Page 25 of To Tango, with Desire

I saw the frustration, as well as a myriad of other emotions, cross his face. Then the shutters came down and he was back to being the enigmatic billionaire.

“What happened between you?”

Zane drew his hand back, staring at the wall behind me. Just when I thought he wasn’t going to answer, he spoke. “Kade betrayed me,” Zane revealed, voice low.

“How—”

He looked at me, eyes serious. “That’s all you need to know.”

“But—”

“It’s time we called it a night.” He stood swiftly and then paused. Frowning, Zane reached out, caressing my cheek. “There are some things that are best left buried, Amira.”

Before I could blink, he was gone.

AMIRA

It was two nights later that I received a follow-up email from the event organizer. We’d been told that both parties would have to agree to a match before personal contact details were exchanged. I was glad of that policy, given I had no interest in pursuing any of the men on offer.

But out of curiosity, I scanned the short list of men who had shown an interest in pursuing a one-on-one date with me.

I zoomed out and scanned the list again. Then a third time for good measure.

Zane’s name was absent.

Stabbing disappointment pierced through my chest.

Of course he didn’t want to marry me. I’d made it very clear that the process had left me wanting. So why did I feel wounded? I hadn’t put his name on my list. In fact, I hadn’t put anyone’s name down.

I was being ridiculous. Irrational. I didn’t want or need a husband right now. While it would get my parents off my back, I would have to sacrifice my happiness to do so. And I was not prepared to be offered up like some lamb to the slaughter.

So why in the world did I feel like I’d been rejected? More to the point, why the hell did I even care?

My phone rang, a persistent, piercing cry that made me jump a little. It was the real estate agent.

Crossing my fingers and toes, I answered.

“Amira? Hi, it’s Glen. Apologies for the late call, but I’ve some news that I think you’d like to hear.”

SEVEN

ZANE

Ipaced my study.

The image of a certain brown-eyed beauty in a bold red dress penetrated my every waking thought. I couldn’t seem to execute basic tasks without thinking about her. The discipline that I’d developed over the years, the very thing that had saved me from becoming like my father, seemed to fail me now.

My work ethic and laser focus made me a pro at filtering out all the noise.

Until now.

Until her.

Fuck.

I wasn’t looking for a distraction. I wanted a wife. An easy-going companion with whom I could share my life. Not some auburn-haired spitfire with a body made for sin.

I should know.