Chapter 9
“Why?” It may have sounded like a stupid question, but Zoe knew that it was one the male species feared. Most of all, because it required them to lay their emotions on the table. The logical part of her brain hoped he would clam up. The crazy side wished for something else entirely.
It seemed that he wasn’t the kind of man to answer harshly, or without thinking as another bout of silence stretched between them.
“I don’t know. I’ve always followed my instinct; it’s what kept me alive, made me succeed. When I rebelled against it, I paid a dire price.”
Zoe wondered if he thought about his wife when he spoke those words. If he believed that another course of action, one he hadn’t followed, would have saved her and his child. She knew after reading the coroner’s report that even the best doctor in the world wouldn’t have been able to save her.
“So, you only rely on your instinct? It’s contradictory to how you act.”
“No, it’s not.” His voice was rebellious, determined, but it didn’t stop her.
“Yes, it is. You follow your instinct, but you block everybody out using contracts. What if one of those persons, women, could offer you more? Not necessarily as a lover, but as a friend, or a partner, or a business ally with an awesome idea? The contract will put them off.”
“I’ve never had any problem having ideas, connections, or contacts so far. And I realize that if that was the case, the contract wouldn’t matter to me. That’s why I’m here.”
Zoe swallowed hard. “I can’t be your friend, you’re my boss.”
He grumbled behind the door. “Stop that.”
But, of course, she didn’t. “I can’t be your business partner; I don’t have any fabulous ideas for your company. And I don’t think you need more money. You’re filthy rich.”
The smile returned in his voice. “One can never have too much money. But again, it’s not the option I would choose for you.”
Her heart sunk, and she closed her eyes. “I can’t be that last option either. I’m not...” She didn’t want to be self-deprecating, but she knew the world was far from perfect, and even if she had fought hard to regain who she was, they would never be a match. “Let’s leave it there, okay?”
“You’re not what?” His tone was low and so soft, so unusual for him.
“You’re stubborn, you know that?”
“I’m hard-headed, same as you. Just answer me, Zoe.”.
“And you’ll leave my apartment?”
“No. But answer me anyway.”
Maybe she ought to blurt it out and get over with it. “You need someone like Cynthia in your bed, by your side. Don’t get me wrong, I like what I see in the mirror when I look at myself, but I can’t compete. Not in your world.”
Again, an instant of silence before an annoyed growl. “You’re mad!”
“I’m sane. I don’t despise myself, it comes from experience.”
“Who’s the fucker...”
“Please, give me some credit! I’ve lived and seen things. I’m not some sort of princess perched in her high castle. Men like you don’t even look at women like me.”
“Is Zoe still in there or has she been replaced by some sort of crazy woman?”
“I’m serious here.”
“And I’m pissed here! Don’t you see yourself?” Something banged hard on the wall on his side.
“Duh! I see myself, I live in this body, you idiot!”
“Then, you don’t fucking see what I see!”
And now they were shouting at each other. This thing was spiraling out of control and the bath was cooling. She was about to call him off when he started talking again. His tone was calmer, low and rough.
