♥ HOW MUCH FOR AN HEIR'S HEART? - ZARRY ♥

Three

"The crisis centre was your mother's idea," Harry casually stated as they boarded the Cessna on their way back to London the next afternoon.

"Yes," Zayn said, nodding to the flight attendant and handing him his coat.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr Malik."

He'd heard those simple words a thousand times in the past few weeks, yet instinctively he knew Harry meant them.

"My mother was committed to causes," he acknowledged as he eased into the black leather seat.

"You must have been very proud of her." Zayn just nodded and said, "Better strap yourself in." Harry nodded and went to his seat further down the aisle.

When Zayn thinks of Tricia Brannan, many things came to mind these days. He'd buried her last month, what now seemed a lifetime ago. The past crowded his head with the suppressed memories of his mother's shocking confession. An urgently whispered confession that he'd put down to the pain-killers.

The only reason she'd confessed was fear-- fear of being discovered.

He balled a fist and thumped it gently on the cold glass window. Like water from a crackled cup, the resentment seeped out, leaving a deep, dark emptiness in its wake.

Everything he knew, everything he'd based his life on was a lie.

Zayn sighed and allowed himself that moment of grief and guilt. The two emotions slowly formed a lump in his gut.

After all this, he was ready to acknowledge a simple fact: Tricia's death hit too close to home. He'd already begun to wonder about his life after her funeral, to silently question just who he is and what he was doing. The inevitable shadows of death had touched him deeply. The painful, scary vulnerability forced him to re-evaluate his ten-year plan.

That plan was close to completion: he had everything money could buy and then some. Everything the Tomlinsons had been born into, everything Tricia had lacked. After this Tomlinsons debacle was behind him, he could fully commit to the last on his list- get himself a wife and start a family.

He glanced back at Harry. He was staring out of the window with a pair of headphones on. Studiously concentrating outside and they taxied down the runway. And just like that Zayn's whole body tightened, forcing a surprised breath from his throat.

With escalating irritation, he silently admitted his plan to intimidate Harry had backfired. It surprised Zayn how calmly Harry took everything in his stride, from an early flight to his subtle commands that had them winging back to London a few hours later. Harry hadn't missed a beat, answering his blunt questions with accuracy, waiting patiently.

This outsider man from the wild fit right into his million-dollar world as if born to it, and he was tempting.

His handsome little Tomlinson's assistant, with his cute, sophisticated business pants and touch-me shirts; thinking about all that made Zayn's groin suddenly ached in a painful remembrance of last night. Harry had invaded his dreams and got under his skin in a way other women hadn't. It was like a part knowledge, a part desire of the unknown. Was Harry a spy? Did he have an agenda? Annoyingly enough, not knowing excited him more.

Zayn scowled, looking but not seeing the runway flash by as they picked up speed and launched into the air.

If he wasn't careful enough, his fascination could become a weakness. He'd been stupid enough to allow one woman to break his heart then let another destroy his trust. It wasn't going to happen again.

But damn, he wanted Harry. Probably, he admitted because he shouldn't have him.

His phone rang then, dragging him away from those dangerous thoughts.