But, if he was telling the truth, it wasn’t something she could ignore.
She gritted her teeth and ordered herself to forget about his opinion. Who cared if he found out she had a weakness for Sugar Bob’s? In a matter of days, he’d be out of her life. She’d leave everything she’d ever known, start all over in another city, maybe Chicago or Los Angeles.
Her throat involuntarily tightened at the thought, and her tears threatened to freshen.
Kaitlin hated being uprooted. She’d started over so many times already, leaving security and normalcy behind as she moved from one childhood foster home to another. She’d been in this small apartment since she started college. And it was the only place that had ever felt remotely like home.
“Kaitlin?” he prompted.
She swallowed to clear the thick emotions from her throat. “Sure,” she told him with grim determination, stepping aside. “Come on in.”
As she shut the door, Zach took in the disarray of packing boxes littering the apartment. There wasn’t anywhere for him to sit down, and she didn’t offer to clear a chair. He wouldn’t be staying very long.
Though she tried to ignore it, her glance shifted involuntarily to the underwear box. Zach tracked her gaze, his resting on the mauve-and-white silk teddy her friend Lindsay had bought her for Christmas last year.
“Do you mind?” she snapped, marching over to pull the cardboard flaps shut.
“Not at all,” he muttered, and she thought she heard a trace of amusement in his tone.
He was laughing at her. Perfect.
The cardboard flaps sprang back open again, and she felt the unwelcome heat of a blush. She turned to face him, placing her body between Zach and her underwear.
Behind him, she spied the open box of Sugar Bob’s. Three of the doughnuts were missing, transferred from the white cardboard and cellophane container to her hips around nine this morning.
Zach didn’t appear to have an ounce of fat on his well-toned body. She’d be willing to bet his breakfast had consisted of fruit, whole grains and lean protein. It was probably whipped up by his personal chef, ingredients imported from France, or maybe Australia.
He perched his briefcase on top of a stack of DVDs on her end table and snapped open the latches. “I’ve had my lawyers draw up our divorce papers.”
“We need lawyers?” Kaitlin was still struggling to comprehend the idea of marriage.
To Zach.
Her brain wanted to go a hundred different directions with that inconceivable fact, but she firmly reined it in. He might be gorgeous, wealthy and intelligent, but he was also cold, calculating and dangerous. A woman would have to be crazy to marry him.
He swung open the lid of the briefcase. “In this instance, lawyers are a necessary evil.”
Kaitlin reflexively bristled at the stereotype. Her best friend, Lindsay, wasn’t the least bit evil.
For a second, she let herself imagine Lindsay’s reaction to this news. Lindsay would be shocked, obviously. Would she be worried? Angry? Would she laugh?
The whole situation was pretty absurd.
Kaitlin anchored her loose auburn hair behind her ears, reflexively tugging one beaded jade earring as a nervous humor bubbled up inside her. She cocked her head and waited until she had Zach’s attention. “I guess what happens in Vegas sometimes follows you home.”
A muscle twitched in his cheek, and it definitely wasn’t from amusement. She felt a perverse sense of satisfaction at having put him even slightly off balance.
“It would help if you took this seriously,” he told her.
“We were married by Elvis.” She clamped determinedly down on a spurt of nervous laughter.
Zach’s gray eyes flashed.
“Come on, Zach,” she cajoled. “You have to admit—”
He retrieved a manila envelope. “Just sign the papers, Kaitlin.”
But she wasn’t ready to give up the joke. “I guess this means no honeymoon?”
He stopped breathing for a beat, and there was something familiar about the way his gaze flicked to her lips.
She was struck by a sudden, vivid memory, instantly sobering her.
Had they kissed that night in Vegas?
Every once in a while, she had a fleeting image of his mouth on hers, the heat, the taste, the pressure of his full lips. She imagined that she could remember his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against his hard body, the two of them molding together as if they belonged.
In the past, she’d always chalked it up to a fevered dream, but now she wondered…
“Zach, did we—”
He cleared his throat. “Let’s try to stay on track.”
“Right.” She nodded, determinedly pushing the hazy image out of her mind. If she’d kissed him even once, it was the worst mistake of her life. She detested him now, and the sooner he disappeared, the better.