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was more than adequate, with a large office complete with the
meeting room he’d specifically demanded. Setting up here for the foreseeable
future shouldn’t be a problem. And out of the four properties he planned to
view today, this was the closest to Bethany’s place in the East Village. Which
made it a no brainer, really.
    “I’ll take it,” he said abruptly.
“On condition that I can move in immediately.” He fingered the call button
again, desperately hoping that Bethany would pick up this time.
    The realtor’s face lit up with
pleasure. “Oh…that’s great, Mr Savage. Yes of course to moving in immediately.
I’ll draw up the papers. Umm,” she started to move toward him and Zach noted
her hips had taken on a sexier sway, “we also offer a remodeling service if you
need it, with highly sought after designers—”
    He turned away. “No, thanks.
Philip will take care of the papers.” He nodded to Philip and walked out of the
living room.
    He dialed Bethany’s number again
and cursed under his breath when he heard the distinctive click.
    You’ve reached Bethany. Leave me a message.
    He walked into the study, shut
the door and crossed over to the large window overlooking Central Park. Heart
thudding dully in his chest, he leaned forward until his forehead touched the
cool glass.
    “I fucked up. Again. I’m sorry,
baby. I just…this distance…being without you…I can’t handle it.” He stopped and
tried to breathe. But just like everything else since that moment in his garden
in Marrakech, his breathing was off. Every damn thing was off. “I’m sorry…” he
stopped again, his mind spinning with all the things he wanted to say but
couldn’t.
    He’d been floundering every day
since admitting what he did six years ago, like he was on a rollercoaster that
was taking him farther and farther away from Bethany with each passing second.
And he couldn’t get off.
    He’d gone through moments of
detesting her for making him feel these alien, confounding emotions. But the
underlying factor had always remained the same.
    He needed Bethany like he’d never
needed anyone else in his life. That last night in Marrakech had ripped away
any illusions that what was going on between them was run-of-the-mill. Even
before his near meltdown in the toy room and the way he’d taken Bethany, he’d
known his craving ran deeper than mind-blowing sex. It was that knowledge that
had sent him into a disturbed sleep, making him dream - on that night of all
nights - of Farrah and the events of six years ago.
    The moment he’d woken from the
dream he’d known something was seriously wrong. In his short time with Bethany,
he’d grown accustomed to her emotions in a way that stunned and confused the
hell out of him.
    Hell, he could blame that
confusion for his stark confession. Or he could admit he’d been terrified that
not giving her something would’ve made her walk away.
    His lips twisted. Well, he’d
gambled and she’d walked away anyway. After she’d looked at him with confused
terror in her eyes. After she’d paled to the point where he’d been petrified
that she would actually shatter from the grenade he’d thrown at her feet.
    When she’d asked to leave, he’d
fought his every instinct to make her stay. And really, how could he have asked
her to stay knowing he’d brought her to the place that was special to Farrah?
    What sort of asshole would that
have made him? What sort of asshole had he been to take her there in the first
place?
    Sighing, he stared down at his
phone and contemplated calling one more time. In the distance he heard the
realtor leave and Philip shut the door behind her.
    A few seconds later, Philip
knocked and entered the study. “It’s done,” he said quietly.
    Zach nodded at the loyal right
hand man who’d been with him longer than any friend or acquaintance. “Let’s get
the usual people in to get things sorted in here.”
    Philip nodded. “The extra works
included?” he