Billionaire Bad Boy (13 page)

"You look incredible," he said quietly, his
voice sounding unnatural to his ears.

"Thanks to the dress," she said in that
self-deprecating way of hers. Why did she do that? What made her think she
wasn't good enough?

"No. The dress is just a piece of material. But
you..." He took her jacket and placed it around her shoulders. He caught a
whiff of her perfume and had to hold himself back from burying his face in the hollow
of her throat.

"Ready?" His voice caught. He coughed to
hide it, but she'd noticed.

A small smile crept across her lips and he was damned
if he didn't feel himself blushing. He must be, because her intense blue eyes
sparkled with laughter.

"The bike's parked outside," he said.

The sparkle disappeared. "The bike! You don't
expect me to—"

He grinned. "No, I've brought the Aston Martin."

"I didn't know you owned a Aston Martin."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about
me."

"I'm beginning to realize that."

Annie told Snoopy not to wait up then closed the door
behind them. Zack opened the car door for her then got into the driver's seat.

"So where are we going?" she asked.

"Jacques. It's a nice little restaurant—"

"I know where it is."

"You've been there?"

"Not recently." Like never. She couldn't
even afford the hors d'oeuvres. "So what's the big occasion? Is this part
of the curriculum?"

He shrugged. "Sort of. Our kiss last night got me
thinking. I suppose it was part of your training. All eighteen-year-old guys
love it when an older woman comes onto them."

"But I don't want to come onto him! He's a kid
and he's annoying." And she didn't like Zack encouraging her to kiss other
men...er, boys. Besides, there'd been more to that kiss than he'd let on. She
was sure of it.

"Don't do anything with him, Annie! He's a kid.
Just flirt with him a little, nothing more than that."

She shook her head to clear it. "I'm confused. What's
this got to do with going to dinner tonight?"

"You need to learn to flirt."

"But why a classy place? Why not a bar or a fast
food restaurant?"

"We have to eat, so why not eat somewhere nice? Men
are the same no matter where you go. Anyway," he flashed a smile, "I
wanted to see you in that dress."

His words warmed her. His reaction to her entrance had
been extremely satisfying and worth the pain of the hairpins digging into her
scalp.

Jacques restaurant had a perfect view of the sunset
over the water. It was a favorite haunt of Hollywood producers and actors with
recent box office success and the occasional wealthy industrialist or investor.
Annie wasn't exactly sure which of these last categories Zack fit into, or if
he did at all, but he seemed at home in the understated style of the
restaurant. Even the snooty waiters smiled and greeted him by name.

"Your usual table, Mr. DiMarco?" asked a
young waiter who obviously hadn't learned the art of waiting in exclusive
restaurants because his smile seemed genuine. They were led to a table by the
window with a spectacular view.

The waiter held Annie's seat out for her then
discretely disappeared.

"Seems you come here often," she said,
studying the menu that had no prices.

"Don't get excited about the table. Everyone in
LA has their own table at one restaurant or another."

"But what if someone had been sitting here?"

He hadn't bothered picking up the menu. "Jacques
charge a fortune so they can afford to have a favorite table free on any night.
It's the way the system works."

She made a clicking sound with her tongue. "So
cynical. Especially for someone who thrives on this."

"Thrives?" He leaned forward and studied
her. "What gave you that impression?"

"The fact that the waiters know you. The fact
that you're always attending one function or another." The fact that he
dated publicity-seeking starlets.

He frowned and his eyelids lowered, glaring. "I
attend only the things that are necessary for a man in my position. A few
charity functions, the occasional movie premier to keep in touch with some
people. Nothing outrageous." His eyes narrowed and she picked up
vibrations of annoyance from his side of the table. "Let's get one thing
straight, Annie. I don't like the limelight. And I hate being pigeon-holed even
more."

Oh-kay.

CHAPTER 11

Annie nodded quickly and studied the ocean. Night had
descended while she wasn't looking, but she could still make out bobbing boats
on the water and the occasional seagull searching for scraps. It seemed like a
totally different world compared to the cool air-conditioned environment of the
restaurant.

She turned back to Zack. His eyes smoldered. Maybe
they needed to discuss something safer.

"What is it you actually do, Zack?"

"I'm an investor."

"What do you invest in?"

"Whatever I think is going to make money. New
companies, poorly managed companies with potential, sometimes movies if a good
one comes my way." He chuckled, his recent simmering anger now dispersed. "I
thought you knew. The curiosity must have nearly killed you."

"Nearly."

The waiter brought a bottle of wine, which was amazing
because Annie didn't remember ordering any. He poured a small amount in Zack's
glass, waited while he did the ritual tasting and nodding thing, then filled
both glasses to a fashionably low level before leaving.

"So you're thirty-four, handsome and rich,"
Annie said, pretending to study her wine. She was going out on a limb but she
wanted to see his reaction. To hell with being safe. "Why aren't you married?"

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. When
she glanced up, he was watching her, grinning in that unnerving way that
implied he was going to toy with her. "I'm not answering unless you answer
my question. Why did Bob give you a job as an agent?"

Hey, no fair. She'd asked first. "Because I'm
good."

He leaned back. "No offence, Annie, but you're
not. You don't go to parties, you don't know many people in the business and
you hate shmoozing with the ones you do."

She choked down her rising temper, not wanting to make
a scene in a place like Jacques—although it would be quite satisfying to
embarrass Zack in front of his peers.

"Sorry," he said quickly, hands up in
defence, "but it's the truth. Now, are you going to answer my question? Why
did Bob give you a job?"

She shrugged and picked up the menu again, temper
swallowed along with a mouthful of wine.

"Just as I thought," he said with a know-all
tone. "Then I can't answer yours."

"Fine," she said. "I don't care
anyway."

He muttered something under his breath which she
couldn't hear and probably wasn't meant to.

"I think I'll have the quail for starters,"
she said mildly.

He grunted then made a gesture and their waiter
miraculously appeared. They placed their orders.

"Guess you want to change the subject then,"
Zack said to her.

She shrugged but didn't answer. Damn it, she hated the
way his eyes sparkled like a naughty child's when he teased her. He had such an
unnerving way of seeing right through her defenses then going in for the kill. Being
teased by Zack was like being tickled—funny for the tickler but
incredibly annoying for the victim.

Zack sipped the wine but didn't taste it. He had to
concentrate on not letting his guard down in front of Annie again. He didn't
want any more disasters like the previous night ruining their companionship.

"Okay, lets get back to our safe topic. We came
here to learn flirting techniques. Show me what you've got."

She blinked those wide, beautiful eyes at him. "Now?
Who with?"

He held out his arms. "Me."

"You? I thought we came here to try it on
strangers?"

"After you graduate. Grade schoolers need to
start with something easy."

"But I can't flirt with you!"

Oh hell. Were his feelings that obvious? "Why
not?"

"Because, well, because you're you."

"Is that a good thing or bad thing?"

"You can take it anyway you want. I can't flirt
with you."

He blew out a breath. Damn. It could have been fun. "Okay
then." He scanned the room. "Flirt with the waiter."

"The waiter?"

"Yeah. He likes you."

She studied the young man who'd taken their orders. "How
do you know?"

"He couldn't keep his eyes off your ass when we
walked in."

"Oh." She straightened and cleared her
throat as the waiter approached with their entrees. "This is
embarrassing."

"You think everything's embarrassing."

"That's because I can't do anything without
putting my foot in my mouth. And I'm not used to...this."

"Just relax. Don't worry about being
embarrassed."

"Easy for you to say."

"Not exactly. I have to sit with you. Guilt by
association."

She frowned at him then turned her attention to the
young waiter. He was cute, probably about twenty and he smiled at her as he
approached which confirmed her earlier suspicion that he'd never waited tables
in an exclusive restaurant before. He was probably a wannabe actor who
suspected she or Zack were producers and could give him a ticket to stardom.

He set the plates down in front of them and politely
told them to enjoy their meal. Annie, aware that Zack was watching her, thanked
him.

She plastered on her brightest smile. "Before you
go, please tell me your name."

"Peter. Is there anything else?"

Uh-oh, he was going to leave.
Quick, Annie, think
of something flirtatious.

"I like what you're wearing."

Peter glanced down at his black trousers,
white shirt, black tie and jacket, then back at Annie. "It's a
uniform."

"Oh." Not a good start. "Well,
you, um, wear it well."

He smiled, looking pleased. "Thanks."
Peter switched his gaze to Zack. His smile vanished. When Annie glanced across
at Zack his face was expressionless but she had a sneaking suspicion he'd just
been scowling. Peter did a short bow as if he'd just ended a performance and
stepped away. Damn, she was about to lose her opportunity to show Zack that she
was a pretty good flirt when she wanted to be. She had to think quickly.

"Do you come here often?" She
did a mental head-slap. Dumbass.

The waiter, coloring, left to the sound of Annie's
groaning and Zack's chuckling.

"Good going," Zack said, still grinning. "Now
the poor guy thinks you're making fun of him."

"No, he thinks
you're
making fun of
him." She lowered her head and picked at the quail to hide her heating
face.

Zack cursed himself for suggesting the flirting. Maybe
he should've thought it through first. The truth was, it was just an excuse to
get Annie to go out with him, in
that
dress.

Lucky for him she was an atrocious flirt. Cute, yes,
and men responded to her when she was being herself, but when the pressure was
on, she failed miserably.

Not so lucky for the young waiter. He must be thinking
he'd got a couple of LA nut cases at table twenty-two. Zack really hadn't meant
to scare him, just discourage him. But he'd lost it when Annie got a smile out
of Peter. Zack knew he had to nip the conversation in the bud, before it took a
direction he hadn't anticipated and didn't like.

His discouraging glare must have worked because a
different waiter collected their plates and delivered their main course. He was
an arrogant, forty-something man with a poor imitation of a French accent. He
didn't smile at them and Annie didn't try flirting with him. Thankfully.

"Dance?" Zack asked as the music softened
and a few couples waltzed onto the floor.

She hesitated before nodding. "I'm not a very
good dancer."

"Just follow my lead."

He held out his hand and Annie placed her fingers in
his like she'd seen them do in the movies. He twirled her onto the floor and
deftly caught her in his arms.

"Show off," she muttered but smiled anyway.

"Just letting everyone see the beautiful woman I
get to dance with."

She blushed.

Zack was an excellent dancer. They glided across the
floor. She felt like a princess in a fairytale. During a slower song, his hand
caressed her back and he pulled her close. She could feel every muscle rippling
in his body as they moved to the rhythm of the music.