bed again. She’d be in soon with a needle and thread to try and hem him in.
Cleo waddled up to his chest and stared at him with her big pug eyes and he stroked her head and thought, What the hell am I doing?
He’d told her stuff last night that he could never have envisaged telling another, he had made love, and Zack had not lied with his mouth, he’d adored her.
It was all too close, and that was the very thing he avoided.
He didn’t want to be tied down like his brother had been, or chained to a town as his father was. They were getting far too close and another couple of months of this and, Zack wasn’t stupid, his leaving was going to hurt her.
And no hurt had ever been intended.
It was time to call it now, Zack knew, before they got in any deeper than they were.
Cleo bared her teeth.
She just stared him down and bared her teeth and it was as if she warned him, in or out?
‘Cleo!’ Freya threatened from the kitchen when she heard her growl. She went to make coffee but found she had none. Coffee wasn’t something she drank but she generally kept some in case of company.
She added it to the list she kept on her phone and divided the drink she’d blended into two glasses as the toast popped up. For the first time in the kitchen she was distracted. Freya had bigger problems on her mind than food for once, and instead of preparing just one plate she made two plates and smeared on some avocado she’d mashed and added a shake of black pepper.
She would go and get a pregnancy kit today and get this over and done with. Maybe when she’d found out it was a false alarm she could relax. Freya carried the tray into the bedroom. ‘I was thinking, maybe today we...’ And then she stopped because Zack was sitting on the edge of the bed with his jeans and boots on and he was pulling on his T-shirt.
‘I need to get back to the hotel,’ Zack said. ‘There’s some work I need—’
‘It’s Sunday,’ Freya pointed out, just as he had.
‘Yep.’
‘Have some breakfast.’
‘I don’t generally eat breakfast, and definitely not green ones.’ He was direct, he was honest and, yes, it hurt a lot. ‘It’s all too much, Freya.’
‘Zack—’
‘Freya, I made it clear. I don’t want a relationship, I don’t want someone making plans for my day off, I don’t want to have to account—’
‘You’re annoyed because I suggested you move out of the hotel.’
‘A bit,’ Zack said. ‘Do you know why I like it there, Freya?’ He looked at the tray she’d prepared. ‘If I ask for coffee, I get coffee. When I put the “Do not disturb” sign on the door, guess what? They don’t disturb...’
They weren’t talking about coffee or signs on the door, Freya knew.
Zack didn’t want more than sex. He’d been upfront from the start and she had been more than willing to go along with it.
It was Freya whose wants had changed.
And he told himself that on the drive back to the hotel.
Last night had been amazing—dinner, conversation and the sex had been amazing.
More than amazing.
He wanted to turn the hired car around and go back there. He wanted to have a decent row with Freya and tell her to get out of fixing and sorting mode and get back to bed.
Zack got back to the hotel, went up in the elevator and then passed the maid with her trolley, doling out the toiletries so that five hundred guests smelt the same.
Then he stepped into the room that had been beautifully serviced and he thought about heading out for the day. Just driving into the hills, or taking a walk along the beach.
He needed a shower, he smelt of sex, or rather he smelt of Freya.
Zack did everything on his to-do list. He showered, changed and then headed for the hills, and that evening, instead of the hotel bar, he took a walk on the beach and told himself that this was the life he had chosen. And he had chosen it carefully. He never wanted to be tied down, or have people reliant on or beholden to him.
Not his patients—he fixed what he could and let them get on with their lives.
Not his family—they all knew how that had worked out.
And certainly he did not need someone who decided what he might want to eat for breakfast!
Damned cheek, Zack decided, and headed back to the hotel.
He went to the bar because it really was that easy, only it wasn’t so easy tonight because he didn’t want company.
Only his own.
Back up to his room he went and the bed had been turned down, the towels and soaps all replaced, and Zack found himself kicking his backpack across the room.
IT HURT.
Far, far more than the end of any other relationship ever had.
Even though Zack would insist that it hadn’t been a relationship because he didn’t do that type of thing.
‘Men!’ Freya said to Cleo as they stood in the little patch of garden early one morning, more than a week after their row.
She carried her back up the stairs and, instead of driving to work, Freya decided that she would run. She hadn’t run all week, she’d been huddled on the sofa at night with Cleo and busy with work by day.
It was time to get back on track with her schedules. She had a change of clothes at work so she pulled on her running gear and put in her earphones and did what she loved to do. She arrived at work all hot and sweaty and stood bent over in the stunning foyer.
‘James will have you using the side entrance,’ Zack said as he went past, and Freya actually laughed.
She wasn’t the prettiest sight for such expensive surroundings but she felt better for a run and glad that she and Zack were almost at the point they could acknowledge each other in passing.
There was a meeting with James this morning and Zack would be there so Freya wasn’t looking forward to it one bit.
She walked into the changing rooms and they were like a luxury spa. There was soft music and fluffy towels and Freya stepped under the delicious jets of water, and then everything shifted.
Her legs started to shake and Freya went dizzy. She didn’t even turn off the taps, she just stepped out and grabbed at a towel then sat on the bench with her head down.
‘Freya?’
She could hear Stephanie’s voice and it seemed to be coming from a long way off, except her face was right next to her ear.
‘I’m okay,’ Freya said.
‘You’re ever so white.’
‘I just need a moment,’ Freya said. ‘Could you get me some tea?’
The waiting rooms all had oolong tea, kept warm by a candle, and little glasses and so it was just a couple of moments before Stephanie returned.
By then Freya had put on a robe and was a bit more together. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said.
‘It’s fine.’ Stephanie smiled. ‘I saw that you ran in. Maybe you overdid it.’
‘Maybe,’ Freya said, and she felt a twist of indignation because she knew the implication behind Stephanie’s words. She had, in fact, underdone things this week but it was always