Page 6 of Engaging his Enemy
He stopped pacing. “What?”
“We were engaged for a few months, but in the end we realized we made better friends than anything.”
“Than lovers?” He crossed to her slowly, like an animal on the attack, and her heartbeat accelerated. He squatted down in front of her. “You’re blushing. That’s a nice touch. Can’t you even say it? Lovers.”
She could smell his scent, a heady mix of sandalwood and spice, and she wrestled with whether to set the record straight or preserve what was left of her dignity. Lying to this man had only brought her sorrow, so she opted for the harder course. “I never slept with Ben.”
He stood abruptly and scoffed. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You were damn near fucking him the last time I saw you together.”
“You don’t have a clue what you saw. He was upset, devastated by your parents’ deaths. He made a mistake.”
“Upset? I was upset! They were my parents, too, and my girlfriend was in bed with my brother.”
“It was a misunderstanding.”
He crossed his arms, nostrils flaring. “Why were you in Ben’s room?”
“He’d been away at college. It was aguest room, remember? It never occurred to me that room was his space when he was in town. I just needed to sleep.” Her palms broke out in a sweat. “He thought I was waiting for him. I thought he was you. He curled up next to me while I was sleeping. By the time I opened my eyes and realized it wasn’t…”
“Your eyes were open when I walked in. You knew exactly who you were kissing.”
“It wasn’t like that.” She swallowed hard. “I felt so sorry for him, Zach.” A muscle in his jaw twitched, and she knew how a mouse must feel staring up at a cat. “I was comforting him.”
“Stroking his face. Resting your forehead against his.”
She remembered it all, knew how compromising a position he’d found them in. Yet she hadn’t cheated on this man, no matter what he believed. “I explained that to you.”
He leaned down, his face only inches from hers, the scent of him filling her lungs and setting her nerve endings on fire. His gaze raked over her features from brow to chin and back up again. “I want a paternity test.”
She put her hands on his chest and pushed him away. Piggy barked at Zack.
“Hey!” yelled Wyatt. She turned toward the door just as her son lunged awkwardly toward his father, hands balled into fists. “Leave her alone!”
How long had he been standing there?
For the briefest moment, she stared at the tableau they made. Father and son, anger and hurt, mirror images of one another separated by only a difference in height. She grabbed Wyatt’s arm to pull him away, surprised to realize he was too strong. “It’s okay, he wasn’t going to hurt me.”
Wyatt’s glare never left Zach. “Who is this?” he demanded.
“This is Zach. He’s here to help Uncle Ben.”
Zach held up his hands defensively. “I wanted to meet you.”
She watched Wyatt’s features for a reaction, any kind of softening, but saw none. She knew what this moment meant to him, knew how much her little boy had pined for his father in his life, but Wyatt’s mouth settled into a sneer. “I don’t give a shit about you.” He shook off his mother’s grip and pointed at his father, just as Zach had pointed at her. “Don’t you freaking touch her. You understand me?”
Zach’s palms were still facing him. “I got it.”
Wyatt turned and left the kitchen, all but storming up the steps.
It was quiet in the boy’s wake, the significance of the moment seeming to hang between them for long moments.
“Where’s Ben?” Zach asked.
She rattled off the address. “Are you going to help him?”
“No. I’m going to kill the rat bastard.”
She could only hope that wasn’t true. The Sato brothers had a lot to sort out between them, and she doubted physical violence was out of the question.
