The Executive's Decision
Page 50

When Zach felt the softness of Regan’s lips on his, he opened his eyes. She gazed at him solemnly, her hair curtaining her face. “It’s Saturday morning, and you are thinking too hard.”
“You’re right. I was.” He touched her hair and then ran his fingers through it. “I’m starving.”
Regan lifted her head, and concern shadowed her eyes. “Please tell me your mother keeps groceries in the house.”
He pushed back his shoulders and considered. He hadn’t even thought about filling the house with food for the weekend after everything that had happened. “I… well, I don’t know. We’ll go look and see what we can find. We may be having caviar and champagne for breakfast.
Regan fell backward onto her pillow and lifted the back of her hand to her forehead. “If we must,” she teased, and then she sat up and planted a warm kiss on his lips. His body temperature rose and so did other parts of him. Looking at her, her face dark with bruises, he couldn’t bring himself to touch her yet. The thought of hurting her sank into his gut and burned. He found her a robe made of silk, which would be soft against her skin. After crawling around on the floor, looking under his own bed like a dog, he found her a pair of slippers that, though unfashionable with the robe, would keep her feet warm on the cold tile floor. Then they headed toward the kitchen on an adventure to find food.
Regan seemed pleased to find that Audrey had a stocked pantry as well as the refrigerator. She pulled out a carton of eggs, a package of bacon, and a container of cream. “Oh, a big breakfast. This is just what I need.”
“I swear to you, if you don’t pour it into a bowl and add milk to it, I don’t know what to do with it.” He perched himself on the island counter and swung his feet carelessly, watching her and trying to be calm and normal around her when all he wanted to do was hold her and nurse her cuts.
“I bet if your mother saw you right now, she would put you over her knee.”
She couldn’t see her own face to know how it tore him apart to look at her. He watched as she moved about the kitchen, finding ingredients to make a meal as if nothing had happened. He admired her strength. “You know my mother all too well. And you know she could get away with it too.”
Regan searched the cabinet under the stove for a pan. “She knew we were staying here, didn’t she?” She lifted her eyebrows at him as she set the pan on the stove.
“Well, my father did. I would assume the fact that there are edible items in the kitchen was his doing.”
“I love your father.” She moved to the counter, opened the eggs, and began hunting for a mixing bowl.
This normalcy was such a farce. Didn’t she see what she was doing to herself? Zach jumped down from where he sat and reached for her arm. “Careful, Regan. You just might stumble on something.”
“What are you talking about?” She looked down at where his hand gripped her arm, and he realized he was probably hurting her. He quickly let go.
“So careless for you to use those words when you won’t tell me you love me.”
He knew as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth, they’d hurt her more than if he’d hit her.
“Oh, Zach, really.” She turned back toward her eggs, but he spun her around again. This time he crushed his lips to her, gathered her in his arms, then deepened the kiss. How was it he could hurt and be in love? He wanted to hear the words. He needed to know that the woman he loved, loved him back.
“Tell me you love me,” he pleaded, but her eyes grew dark.
“Zach…”
“Either you love me or you don’t. You have to tell me one way or another.” She said nothing and he shook his head. “It’s not going to change how I feel, Regan. I love you, and I wish to hell you could tell me you love me too.”
Her eyes were open wide, and he’d obviously caught her off guard with his bitterness. But he couldn’t help himself. Pure, raw emotion charged through him, and he didn’t know what to do with it. Never would he lash out at her physically, but because someone had, he would lose her.
Before he could hurt her again with his words or demand more from her than she could give, he turned and walked out of the house through the patio doors.
Regan stood in the kitchen and watched Zach pace the patio. Her heart raced from his words, and her body ached from the strikes she’d taken the day before. She lifted her fingers to her lips. They stung from the cuts on them. They had swelled from the blows Roger Byers had dealt to her face. Zach’s kiss should have soothed them, but it hadn’t. It had made her angry with herself for not giving him what he really needed, confirmation of her love for him.
God, she did love him. She had come to grips with that. Why couldn’t she tell him? She lifted a hand to her aching head and closed her eyes. Her cheeks were sore from where Roger Byers had hit her. Her arms still ached from where he’d grabbed her and bruised her. The cuts were visible reminders of what had happened only the day before. All because she loved Zachary Benson.
But nothing hurt as badly as her heart did when Zach stormed out the door. She saw him walking in the rose garden, and she took a deep, cleansing breath. It had been a year since Alexander left her for dead, just as Roger Byers had intended to do. It was time to put the pain of her past behind her.
She rested one hand on her stomach and the other on her cheek. It had been a hell of a year. She needed to move on.
A few minutes later, Regan walked to the entrance to the rose garden with a mug of coffee. Zach turned when he heard her, and she handed him the mug. “I made breakfast.”
“Thanks.” He took the mug and held her gaze, but he said nothing else. Finally she walked back to the house. When he followed her, a seed of hope grew inside her.
“It’s only eggs, bacon, and toast. But I think it’ll do.” She picked up the plates she had readied and set them on the table.
They ate in silence.
When he was finished eating he gathered the plates. “I think I’ll grab a shower. Feel free to make yourself at home.” Then he disappeared up the stairs.
Regan cleaned up the rest of the breakfast dishes and pans. She refilled her coffee mug and headed out the back door, leaving it ajar so Zach would realize where she’d gone. It was time to show him she loved him.
She strolled down the path through the rose garden and out into the pasture, her pulse drumming faster as she headed toward the creek behind the trees. The air was already hot and thick. To sit and listen to the creek roll past her as she waited for Zach would be heaven.