Billionaire Bad Boy (3 page)

So much for go with the flow. She didn't like the
direction the conversation was heading in. She couldn't believe what she was
hearing. Where did she start? With the "more like me" comment or the
fact that he thought she was a slab of wood to be carved into whatever took his
fancy?

"What makes you think I think you're an arrogant
pig?" she asked, taking him to task on the least offensive comment. She
should be polite to him, for now.

His lips twitched in that annoying, mocking way. "Women
like you usually do."

She drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Okay,
I know I'll regret this, but what do you mean, women like me?"

He shrugged and stared directly at her with those
sinful eyes. "Intelligent, conservative women."

She bristled. "You think you know me already,
don't you. Well, Mr. DiMarco you've been here all of about ten minutes and let
me tell you there's a lot more to me than a brain and, and...the clothes I
wear."

"So you admit your clothes are
conservative?"

"There's nothing wrong with my clothes! Some
people might think they're conservative but a businesswoman can't wear sexy
outfits or T-shirts with offensive slogans."

"Why not? Maybe you should try it one day. In
fact, maybe I'll get you to try it this weekend. Something like what those
girls are wearing."

He indicated the two starlets at a nearby table in
their white shorts and low-cut tops with a good length of bare midriff exposed
in between. Suddenly aware that the object of their temporary obsession was
actually taking notice of them, they stopped giggling, replaced their grins
with practiced expressions of boredom and thrust out over-sized breasts.

But Zack's attention had already returned
to Annie. She had to admit, it felt good to be with him. He was smooth,
sophisticated. Most men would let their gaze wander to the starlets, but he
gave her his undivided attention. He knew exactly how to make the woman he was
with feel good—and he was probably going to use every trick in his
repertoire on Annie, just to amuse himself. Well,
she
certainly wouldn't
fall for any of them. Plenty of men like him had tried when she was younger,
but none had succeeded. She didn't care about their fickle, fake interest.

"I wouldn't be caught dead in something like
that." She sniffed. "Besides, I don't have the figure for it."

Big mistake. Zack's gaze traveled from
her face to her throat, then languidly over her breasts—where they
lingered way too long—and down to her hips and legs. Her face flushed and
she wished she'd worn long pants like usual instead of the short skirt.

"Oh, I don't know," he said quietly. "You
might be able to pull it off."

She didn't know whether to be offended or flattered so
she didn't say anything.

"I've embarrassed you," he said. "Sorry."
He didn't look sorry. He looked amused.

"I'm not embarrassed. I'm just not sure this is
appropriate conversation for two people who've just met."

"Maybe we should get to know each other first. That
way I can work out what needs improving."

"Improving?"

He held up his hands. "Sorry, wrong choice of
words. It's just that Bob was very specific about what he wants. He wants a
rebel. And," Zack sighed as he studied her again, quickly this time,
"I just don't see an iced tea-drinking, suit-wearing woman as a
rebel."

He had a point, but he didn't have to be so offensive
about it.

"Speaking of Bob," she said, "how do
you two know each other?"

He shrugged powerful shoulders. "He helped me out
when I needed it most. Now it's my turn to return the favor. Bob asked, so here
I am. Besides, it could be fun. It's not every day I get to teach an attractive
woman how to behave badly."

Annie's entire body went numb.
He thinks I'm
attractive?

"Annie? Are you still with me?"

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Uh, yeah.
So you were going to tell me why you owe Bob."

"It's no big deal. But it's not casual
conversation. Maybe I'll tell you when we know each other better."

Damn. She hated mysteries. She'd never been any good
at reading crime novels, always skipping to the last page to see whodunit. Pity
this wasn't a book. It would kill her to wait. All she knew from the gossip
pages was that Zack had come from a poor background. But how did he get started
in big business? He would have needed capital, contacts and financial know-how.

Zack watched as Annie's brain ticked over. He could
almost see the cogs turning, considering every possibility. He doubted she'd
ever guess how much Bob had done for him fifteen years ago.

But Like he'd said, it was no big deal. He just didn't
want it splashed across the newspapers. In order to make ends meet, he'd stolen
a vehicle. Bob's. When he learned who Bob was, Zack, possessing the gift of the
gab, talked him into listening to a demo tape of his late father's, a
songwriter. Bob had liked what he heard and agreed to represent Zack, his three
brothers and two sisters. He landed them a very nice deal and the family
collected a tidy sum from the royalties. Zack used his share to buy his first
investment.

"So do you like LA?" he asked, hoping to
relax her with idle chatter. She was so tense, like a coil spring wound tight. He
had a task ahead of him.

She creased her brow in that cute way he already
decided he liked, and glared at him. Great, she was going to argue with him. Again.
Jeez, she was uptight, and smart. Bob could've warned him. It seemed nothing he
said, no matter how innocent the intention, slipped past her. But far from
being annoyed, he found it challenging. That was one thing his life lacked
these days.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked,
her blue eyes narrowing. She had amazingly long lashes that leant Fifties-style
innocent beauty to her pretty face. She wasn't attractive in the classic sense,
although there was something about her high cheekbones and wide eyes that he
found interesting and ethereal. With heavier makeup and elegantly messy hair,
she could definitely pass for a twenty-something with attitude. She had the
attitude part down already.

"It's supposed to mean, do you like LA? Nothing
hidden there, Annie. Don't challenge everything I say. Although it's a step in
the right direction as far as turning you into a rebel is concerned."

She bristled. Why did she do that? Did she have a
deep, dark secret that involved rebels? Or was she just a woman who didn't like
a man telling her what to do?

If that were the case, she was definitely
not
his type.

"LA's okay," she conceded with a shrug. "I've
always lived here, so I don't know anything else. You?"

He drew in a deep breath, warring with himself. Should
he give away more information than he usually did on a first, second or third
date? Most women didn't seem really interested in his background, but Annie
leaned forward in her seat and watched him intently. For once, he felt like the
woman he was with really
wanted
to know more about
him
. Not how
much money he earned or what cars he drove, but his family, his background—the
things that mattered.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want
to," she said. "We've only just met—"

"I've got nothing to hide." Not exactly
anyway. It's just that some things were personal and should only be told to
special people. It was too soon to know if Annie would become someone special,
but he wanted to tell her. Maybe if she knew something about him she'd relax a
little.

"I was born in Boston, moved to Detroit when I
was five, then to Canada at ten. I've also lived in New York and Montana."

"You get around."

He smiled. "So I'm told."

There was that cute frown again. He wondered if she
knew what affect that petulant pout had on men. Probably not. She didn't seem
totally aware of her appeal, looking a little uncomfortable in her short skirt
and high heels.

Nope, definitely not his type.

"Okay, what else do you need to know,
sir
?"

He grinned. Better. She was loosening up, finding her
sense of humor. He liked it when she wasn't so obstinate.

Mischief danced in her eyes as she said, "You
like being called sir?"

"Only by attractive women."

She blushed and the mischief vanished. His grin
widened.

Uh-oh. Not good. Annie was having the wrong effect on
him. He hadn't expected to feel warmly towards her. He wasn't supposed to like
it when she smiled or blushed. He wasn't supposed to want to get to know her
better. He couldn't afford to fall for her. He had to avoid women like her, at
all costs, or he'd end up like his Dad.

Time to get her pissed off at him again.

"Tell me, Annie, what's your sex life like?"

A spray of iced tea missed Zack's left ear by half an
inch. "Excuse me?" Annie spat along with the tea.

"Sex. Do you have much of it?"

"That's none of your business!"

He chuckled. Better. Okay, not better but safer. "You're
right, it isn't. But from now on you have kinky sex in unusual places. And lots
of it."

Annie's face darkened and her nostrils flared. He
waited for the dam to burst. He wasn't disappointed. "I've had enough, Mr.
DiMarco." She stood. "This was a big mistake. I doubt Bob meant for
you to hit on me in such an offensive manner. Good bye."

Wow, she was sensitive. Intriguing. But his plan to
distance himself was backfiring before it had begun.

Annie couldn't believe she was about to walk out on
one of the most gorgeous men on the planet. And all because he offered to have
sex with her. What was she thinking!

But there was a principle involved. And standing by
her principles was more important than great sex with the man of her fantasies.
Right? Hmmm...

She stormed past the confused waiter, but Zack caught
her arm before she got out the door. She tried to struggle free, accidentally
hitting him in the crotch.

He swore but didn't clutch himself, although his face
turned a little pale. Annie tried to keep her eyes level with his although she
was tempted to look down at the affected area.

"You're dangerous when you're annoyed," he
said.

"Let go of me."

He did, holding up his hands in surrender. "Fine.
Off you go. I'm sorry I offended you."

She sniffed and stormed out of the café. Let him pay
the bill—he could afford a few beers.

She walked briskly along the sidewalk, regretting
parking her car two blocks away. It wasn't easy to make a point of storming off
when your toes were squeezed into a pair of ridiculous shoes. But her toes were
the least of her problems when the damned heel broke on her left shoe. She
teetered and landed on her ass, her skirt hiked up around her hips.

"Stupid shoes." She cursed. No wonder they'd
been on sale. They were death traps.

She stood and kicked them off. Determined not to look
around to see if Zack had noticed, she continued on, shoes dangling from her
fingers and head held as high as possible considering she'd just made a fool of
herself.

But walking barefoot on a hot day in LA wasn't the
smartest move. She might not break her neck but she was in danger of burning
holes in her feet. The sidewalk was scorching and she was sure she could hear
sizzling. She hopped from one foot to the other, glancing around for the
nearest stretch of grass as the soles of her feet sizzled.

Her heart sank at the sound of a roaring engine
alongside her. There goes that last thread of dignity. She tried to look as
cool as possible, walking as if her feet weren't about to spontaneously
combust.

"Get in," Zack said through the open window
of his black Ferrari. "You'll get blisters."

She didn't turn around. "I'm fine."

"You're not. Your feet hurt."

"Leave me alone. I'm telling Bob the deal's
off."

She heard a frustrated sigh coming from the humming
car keeping pace beside her.

"Look, Annie, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm
just trying to do what Bob asked. I'm sorry if you took it the wrong way."

"The wrong way? You just told me to have sex with
you! Tell me the right way to take that sort of comment."

Her temper increased to the same temperature as her
feet when she heard his soft laugh. The man was infuriating—he'd just propositioned
her and now he was trying to laugh it off! Definitely a jerk.

"I wasn't offering to have sex with you, I was
suggesting you make it
appear
as if you have a lot of sex. And like it. You
know, talk it up a bit at parties, around Doggie-Whatshisname."

She bit her lip. "Oh."

"Look, I'm sorry you misunderstood me. I won't
bring up sex again. Promise."