Page 94 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Zara

"That’s what he said? That the two of you can never be friends?" Solene asks from the screen of my phone.

"That’s what he said." I pour myself a cup of coffee and carry it to the window of my office.

It’s been three weeks since Hunter threw those words at me and took off in his car.

He left one of his security detail behind, who insisted on following me on the drive back to London.

They ensured I was safely inside my house before they left.

I felt protected by Hunter’s gesture, that despite the fact we parted on what were not the friendliest of terms, he insisted on making sure I got home safely.

At the same time, it’s not like he asked me if his team could escort me home.

He simply assumed I’d be fine with it and ordered his team to to it.

I could hardly tell the team not to do so when they approached me.

To do so would have made me appear churlish.

Besides, I was glad they were following me home, given how treacherous the roads still were after the snow last night. So, I accepted their offer.

Which meant, ultimately, he won, even though he agreed to walk away from me, just as I asked him to do.

And he did. And now, I feel his loss so deeply, I feel like the biggest loser of all.

Instead of feeling joyful to have escaped his clutches, I feel empty inside.

Like I had a chance and wasted it away. Like all that’s remaining in my life now is empty evenings and nights in a bed that feels too big and too cold, like…

I’ve lost a part of me, a part I could have had but refused.

"Zara, you there?"

"Eh?" I turn to my phone. "What did you say?"

"It’s not like you to be so pissed off over a man’s words."

Only, he’s not just any man. He’s Hunter. He’s the man who I can’t stop going toe-to-toe with, the man who I was sure I didn’t like; the man who gave me the most memorable night—okay, nights—of my life.

This is what happens when orgasms addle your brain.

You can’t think straight. Not that it seems to have affected the day-to-day life of the jerkhole.

He’s been in the news almost every week, spotted at openings and galas, each time, with a new woman on his arm.

And he hasn’t called me. Not once. Nor texted. But neither have I.

"It must have been some weekend break with him. The sex must have been phenomenal."

I flush. Her jaw drops. "OMG, did you just blush, Zara?"

"So what?" I flip my hair over my shoulder, trying to school my features into an expression which I hope is casual.

"So what? I’ve never seen you blush.”

"I blush." Especially when I’m in the presence of the poshhole.

"Not when it comes to talking about sex, you don’t."

I raise a shoulder. "Yeah, so I have a liberated view about sex, in general.”

"And a rather low opinion of men, in particular," she points out.

"I did—" I admit.

"So, not anymore?"

"I mean, I still do," I say hastily.

"Umm, I think not." She chuckles.

"Can we change the topic?" I scowl.

"No way. In fact, I’m going to dial in Isla."

"No, wait! Don’t. What are you—"

My screen changes view, and a third window pops up with Isla’s eager face. "What’s happening? What did I miss?"

"Hello to you, too. I assume you are finally back from honeymoon number five?" I ask in a droll tone.

"It was our sixth, actually. Although, since we decided to move to the island, every day with Liam feels like a honeymoon," she says in a dreamy voice.

Solene and I exchange glances. It’s almost funny how much Isla is in love with her husband. Truth is, he seems just as crazy about her. And the few times I’ve seen them since they got married, they couldn’t keep their hands and their gazes off of each other.

"Anyhoo” —Isla beams at both of us— ”I didn’t jump on the call to talk about myself. Tell us about your latest man."

I look down my nose at her. "Why does it have to be about my man?"

"Because I’m married, and Solene is, more or less, in a relationship." Isla’s referring to Solene dating Hollywood heartthrob Declan Beauchamp.

"I’m not," Solene butts in.

"Okay, so she’s not, at the moment, but given we know their ups and downs last until one of them misses the other and they get back together—"

"Or not," Solene chimes in again.

"Or not, which I don’t believe for a moment. Either way, it’s not as if she’s interested in anyone else. You though" —Isla’s smile grows broader— "you are Zara Chopra, Ms. Shark herself—"

"I’m a tough negotiator." I shrug off the title the media seems to have thrust upon me.

"Indeed. And you are not easy to please. So, if you have a new man in your life—"

"I don’t," I snap.

Both women look at me.

"Okay, fine. So, I may have had a dirty one night stand," I finally admit.

"I knew it." Solene does a mock fist pump.

"It’s Hunter, isn’t it?" Isla bursts out.

When I don’t reply, Solene chimes in, "It is Hunter. Also, he told her they could never be friends."

"And when has that bothered you?" Isla asks.

"It doesn’t bother me."

She scans my features. "Hmm."

"What’s that hmm for?" I glance at my coffee. It’s only four p.m. If only, I could have something stronger.

Only it’s dry January, and I’m trying to detox.

And not just when it comes to alcohol, apparently, because since that night with Hunter, I haven’t wanted to sleep with anyone else.

Or been attracted to anyone else, for that matter.

In fact, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Hunter, which is, honestly, not great.

"Just hmm," Isla’s voice has a sly tone to it.

"What’s going on in that head of yours?"

"Me? Nothing." She widens her gaze and I sigh.

"'Fess up, will you."

"Oh, I’m just thinking that the two of you make a good couple. Of course, not that you are together or anything, but if you were, then you could help him with his leadership campaign."

"It would be a disaster. The two of us would not be able to agree on anything. He wants someone who’s more submissive, and I’m not someone who likes to be told what to do." Except in bed, and only by him, apparently.

Isla blinks. "Umm, are we talking sex, or are we talking about getting on the campaign trail here?"

"Both," I shoot back.

There’s silence, then Solene presses a finger to her cheek. "I think it’s the fact that the two of you challenge each other that makes you both so well-suited for the other. In fact, I think you are exactly the kind of person he needs to help him during his candidature."

"What do you mean?"

"Ever since my track went viral, the number of people who’ve crawled out of the woodwork and want to become part of my entourage has multiplied. In fact, the only people it hasn’t affected are the two of you—"

"And Declan," Isla points out.

"And Declan," Solene agrees, but her tone is hesitant.

I narrow my gaze. "Is it all the publicity surrounding your success that’s made it difficult for the two of you to be together?"

"One of us being in the public eye is difficult enough," she replies and blows out a breath. "But add in the fact that Declan’s last film was a big hit, and the media speculation on our every move, can make things challenging, to say the least."

"Oh, honey, I’m so sorry," Isla says in a soft voice.

"Media intrusion is never easy. The trick, though, is not to give any weight to what they write. Don’t respond to them, don’t engage with them. And never, ever google yourself," I add.

"It’s not easy, though, when you are in the eye of the storm—"

"You find the calm," I murmur.

"Wise words." Solene chuckles. "But again, we’re not talking about me, and neither Isla nor I are letting you off that easily." She waggles a finger at me. "So, going back to sex and the hot Prime Ministerial candidate to-be, you were saying—"

"Not much. I don’t have anything to do with his campaign, or with the man himself."

"Is that why you’re moping?" Solene tips down her chin.

"I’m not moping."

"You refused to come out and meet any of us on New Year’s Eve."

"I was busy." I fold my arms across my chest.

She firms her lips. "How many New Year’s Eves have you spent on your own at home before this?"

This was the first one. It really is not like me to be a shrinking violet.

To prefer my own company to that of my friends, or indeed, a roomful of strangers I could socialize with.

But I’ve been feeling so tired and under the weather, nothing has felt as good as watching the News at ten on BBC, then crawling into bed.

On my own. Jeez, am I growing old before my time? My face falls.

Solene’s features soften. "Didn’t say that to make you feel bad. It’s just that you have dark circles under your eyes. Also, I think maybe you’ve lost weight."

"Gee thanks," I drawl.

"Solene’s right." Isla’s gaze narrows on my face. "You do look a little peaked. Are you coming down with something?"

"I’m fine." I bring my cup of coffee to my mouth and my stomach churns. Ugh, nothing worse than coffee gone lukewarm. I pivot, head back to my table and place the coffee on it.

"So, when do I see the two of you again?"

"I'll be in London in a few weeks. Liam’s board meeting is coming up, and he needs to be there. Also, I have a few new wedding planning clients I’d like to meet in person." The scene behind Isla changes. She climbs up the stairs at the mansion on the island she and Liam now call home.

"I’ll try to stop over on my days off between gigs," Solene chimes in.

My phone buzzes again with an incoming call. I recognize the caller ID and frown. "Can’t wait to see the both of you. So sorry guys, I have a call coming which I can’t not take."

"See you soon."

"Can’t wait."

Both women disconnect. I switch to the other call. "Lord Alan?"

"Zara my dear, how are you this very fine morning?" His familiar voice reverberates over the phone.

"I am well, sir, and you?"

"Never been better." There’s a pause, then, "Remember our last call? I now have more details regarding the project I spoke to you about. I assume you’re up for it?"