Cause For Scandal (Dynasties: The Elliotts #3)(21)
Author: Anna DePalo

He decided to let her—and himself—off the hook. “Actually, chances are I’ll be leaving the performing behind sooner rather than later.”

He could tell he’d surprised her. “Really?”

“Yeah, I see myself concentrating on songwriting instead.” He looked around. The crowd had thinned a bit, though the party was still going strong.

“Are you ready to leave?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He looked at her. “I’m ready, are you?”

It was a loaded question, and he knew it, but he wanted her badly. Being near her and holding back was torture.

“Yes,” she said, “let’s go.” She gave no indication that she’d taken him at other than face value.

They wound their way to the front door, saying good-night to people on the way, and he retrieved her coat and his jacket from the attendant at the cloak room.

Fortunately, Shane and Cullen were nowhere to be found. Bryan, on the other hand, just tossed him a significant look that said Zeke had a modicum of his trust and shouldn’t do anything to waste it. Zeke gave him the barest of nods that said the message had been delivered and noted.

He held the front door open for Summer, and when they got outside the restaurant, he pulled a baseball cap out of his jacket pocket and pulled it low over his eyes.

She looked at him questioningly.

“Keeps me from being recognized by paparazzi,” he explained. “Can I get you a cab?”

“No, thank you,” she said. “Home is just a few blocks away.”

“I’ll walk with you, then.”

She hesitated for a second. “Okay.”

Eight

S he was burning up. It was crazy, of course. It was only thirty degrees outside. But beneath her cashmere coat and underneath her wraparound top, she was burning up.

And it was all due to the man beside her.

Zeke.

Her lover.

When they arrived at the Elliott townhouse, Summer watched as Zeke looked up at the huge gray structure, taking it in.

She was used to people being impressed by the place that she and Scarlet used as a weekday residence and that her grandparents used when they were in town.

She tried to see it through his eyes, as if for the first time. The three-story mansion boasted white trim and was set ten feet back from the street, shielded from curious passersby by a black wrought iron gate covered in ivy.

Zeke looked at her. “Your grandfather wasted no words in making a statement, I’ll say that for him.”

His insightfulness surprised her. Most visitors’ observations ended with the physical structure before them. “Granddad started the EPH empire,” she said. “On his way up, I think appearances were very important to him.”

“Yeah.”

“Jealous?”

A smile quivered at his lips and he glanced at her. “More like envious of his privacy.” He added, “And feeling like an idiot now for thinking you’d be impressed by my suite at the Waldorf.”

She flushed. She didn’t like being reminded of how she’d misled him that night, but he didn’t look angry now, only as if he was enjoying teasing her.

Still, now that they’d arrived at the townhouse, an awkwardness fell over her. Trying to cast off the feeling, she heard herself ask, “Would you like to see the inside?”

“Sure.”

As they made their way up to the front door and inside, she had time to rue her impulsive offer. She should’ve said goodbye outside.

Should’ve, could’ve, hadn’t.

Instead, after they had deposited her coat and his jacket and cap in the front hall, she showed him around. The house was quiet because of the late hour, the few servants asleep or gone for the day.

She was very aware of him behind her as they made their way from the grand entry hall, with its impressive stained glass skylight, to the library and then on to the dining room and living room. She showed him the family room and kitchen, and they looked out at the back porch, which overlooked a private garden.

Eventually, he followed her up to the next level, where bedrooms for family and guests were located, and then to the top floor, where she and Scarlet had sleeping quarters.

Finally, he stood in the open doorway of her bedroom.

Trying to gauge his reaction, she babbled, “And this is my room. It’s been redecorated over the years. Fortunately, Scarlet and I never had to share a bathroom. I’m not sure our relationship would have survived otherwise.”

She looked around at the white-and-cream color scheme that contrasted dramatically with the antique cherrywood furniture, and at her brass bed with its matelassé cover.

What was he thinking? Too cozy?

He said nothing, just looked around, and she stopped fidgeting.

Finally, he murmured, “Very feminine.”

He strolled in and stopped by the closed laptop and paperwork on her desk. Looking down, he asked, “You’ve started writing up our interview?”

“Yes.” She walked over to him. She’d forgotten she’d left her draft sitting out.

He picked up some sheets of paper and cast her a curious look. “Do you mind?”

“No—I mean, no, I don’t mind.” She gave a nervous laugh. “As long as you don’t expect the right to censor it.”

He quirked a brow. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “Given all the stuff that’s already been written about me, I doubt I’ll be shocked.”

She waited nervously as he read.

She’d labored over every word of the article so far. And every word had brought back in stunning detail thoughts of him and of that night at the Waldorf.

She’d toiled over how to describe him without sounding trite or love struck. Zeke Woodlow, soul of an artist, body of a sex symbol, she’d written before deleting the words. She’d called herself ridiculous and more, then had stared at the blank computer screen for ages.

Finally, she’d decided to open with the heart of the matter: a quote from Zeke himself on striving to keep his music fresh and relevant.

Just then, he broke into her thoughts. “Very good,” he said. “I like it.”

“Really?” Realizing she’d sounded embarrassingly surprised, she tried again, “I mean, really?”

A smile played at his lips. “Yeah, really. I have just one criticism.”

“Oh?”

He put the article down. “It needs more research.”

“I’m not sure there’s anything else I need to know.”

He moved closer until he was standing within scant inches of her, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.