Billionaire Bad Boy (9 page)

"Annie?" The fluffy head turned in her
direction and traveled critically from her loosely tied hair to the new red shoes.
The woman, age indeterminate, attempted a smile. But it didn't pass the fake
test. She couldn't manipulate her rubbery bee-stung lips into anything more
than a smirk.

The woman glanced back at Zack and it was obvious she
was waiting for an introduction. He didn't give one. "Well," she
chirped too sweetly. "I need to keep moving. Shopping to do. Toodles."

Annie waited until they were alone then she turned on
him. "Why didn't you introduce me?"

He shrugged. "I couldn't remember her name."

She doubled over with laughter. "If I ever bump
into you and you don't introduce me to your companion, I'm going to make you
squirm, Zack DiMarco."

He placed his arm around her shoulders and kissed the
top of her head. "I'll never forget
your
name, Annie
McCallum."

She froze until he let her go. Something about the
affectionate way he kissed her brought up a dim memory, something to do with
the night before. She shook her head. She wouldn't worry about that right now. Last
night was probably way too embarrassing and best left forgotten. Whereas his
action just now was definitely memorable. Her skin where he'd pressed his lips
still tingled.

With her strappy red shoes clicking along the
sidewalk, she followed Zack into one shop then another. They bought a
tight-fitting little black dress, a pair of black hipsters, knee-high boots,
two short skirts with death-defying side splits and three tops in assorted
colors. Everything was skimpy. And pricey. And the smaller the outfit, the more
it cost. Annie shook her head at the prices but Zack didn't blink an eye as he
paid for them with plastic—the gold variety. He assured her Bob had
promised to reimburse him.

Next they purchased a heavy leather jacket for riding
and a lighter, three-quarter length one to wear with her new outfits on cool
evenings.

"I'll look like a prostitute with this jacket and
those skirts."

"Good. That's exactly the look all the young
things are trying to achieve these days."

"I'm nearly thirty!"

"Not until Dug-E leaves town, you're not. I think
you could pass for twenty-two."

Great, another blow to her already fragile ego,
although the shopping expedition had helped inflate it somewhat. Not only had
Zack put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head, but when she tried
on a pair of tight leather pants, his eyes had glazed over.

"They look great on you," he said huskily as
he studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. She blushed and turned
around so she couldn't see herself, then realized too late that she was giving
him a perfectly good view of her rear end in the mirror. She blushed again and
raced into the changing room. The sooner she got the pants off the better.

Obviously Zack liked the sort of women who wore tight
leather and skimpy outfits. She never wore them. And when this was over, never
would again. He wouldn't want to know her then.

But she bought the pants anyway.

It was five o'clock by the time they finished
purchasing makeup and handbags and Annie wished she'd gone with her safe
practical shoes instead of the red ones. She ached from her toes to her back. All
she wanted to do was flip the shoes off and bathe her feet in a soothing tub.

"Hey, Zack," someone called. Annie groaned.
Here
we go again.

All day women had stopped him to say hi. Most
he introduced her to, others he didn't—at those times she tried not to
laugh. Sometimes she was even successful.

This one, a brunette in tight black pants
similar to the pair Annie had just bought, rubbed herself up against him.

To his credit, he subtly put some
distance between them then placed his arm around Annie's shoulders, pulling her
to him. The brunette got the message and moved off, her nose in the air and
breasts thrust forward like weapons.

"You know," said Annie
innocently, "giving these women the impression we're dating isn't good for
your reputation."

"I know. Nor is it good for my love
life."

Now she was intrigued. "So why are
you doing it?"

"Pretending you're my
girlfriend?" He shrugged. "I'm taking the week off."

She thumped him on the arm and he smiled.

But then his face straightened and he
gazed directly ahead. "Don't worry. I'll make sure everyone knows we're
not an item."

"Oh," she said, returning to
reality with a thud. So that's how it was. She was nobody. That stung, more
than she cared to admit. But she should have seen it coming. Of course she was
an embarrassment to him considering the women he dated—beautiful and
buxom with confidence oozing from every de-toxed pore. She was a mousy bore who
never went to parties. No competition. Not even close.

She sighed. As much as she was enjoying
his company, she needed to keep things in perspective and not expect a
fairytale ending. For now, she should just enjoy herself and maybe she'd make a
friend in the process.

Zack could feel tension vibrating off
Annie. She was annoyed at him. Ah well. It was easier having her annoyed, so
that's the way he'd try to keep things between them.

Except he couldn't, not always. Having
women approach him all day had helped keep Annie's temper simmering. He hadn't
realized how many women he knew until today. And not one of them could he call
a friend. He hoped he could call Annie one after this was all over.

Although being around her, constantly
reminded of his feelings, could spell disaster.

He'd loved the day. Just being with her
had been fun. Buying her things had been great. He'd lied about Bob paying for
the clothes. Probably Bob would, but Zack had no intention of telling him. Or
Annie. She'd make him return everything and he definitely didn't want to do
that. Then he'd never get to see her in those leather pants again, or that
short skirt. His step faltered as he remembered how her ass had looked in the
tight leather. H O T.

Then again, since he couldn't—shouldn't—have
her, maybe he'd better return them...

They headed back to the Ferrari parked outside the
Prada shop and piled their shopping bags in, then themselves. Zack cranked up
the air conditioning and Annie placed her hands on the dash, spreading out her
arms to get the full affect of the cool breeze.

"One more stop then we'll head home and have a
cold beer," he said.

She groaned.

"Okay, you can have a glass of wine."

"So where are we headed now?"

"The beach."

"The beach? But it's getting late!"

"That's the best time. All the sunbathers have
gone home and the place actually seems peaceful."

"So why are we going to the beach if not for
sunbathing?" She hesitated. "Oh. You're not going to make me swim,
are you?"

"You'll see."

Annie rolled her eyes. If there was anything she hated
more than an egotistical male it was an egotistical male who said "You'll
see" with a smile as broad as the Cheshire Cat's.

After battling through traffic, Zack pulled the
Ferrari into a parking spot at Santa Monica beach and got out. Annie did the
same and followed him to an ice cream stand.

"We're going to eat ice cream," she said not
really believing it.

"Yep. That okay with you or are you way too
sophisticated for ice cream?"

She scoffed at him. "Do I look
sophisticated?"

He smiled. "What flavor?"

"Chocolate of course."

He ordered and paid for the ice creams and handed the
chocolate one to her.

She licked it. "Now what?"

"We walk along the beach."

"Okay. But I don't see what you're trying to
teach me here."

"To relax and enjoy the sunset."

She frowned, disbelieving. "That sounds a little
too normal. I don't think Dug-E would be interested in sunsets. Sunrises maybe,
after a night of hard partying."

"I don't care what Dug-E is interested in right
now," Zack said, nudging her. "This isn't part of your
training."

She didn't know what to make of that.
Not part of
her training.
Then what were they doing? What possible motive could he have
for taking her for a walk along the beach with ice cream at sunset?

Oh boy.

CHAPTER 8

Annie's face burned. Thank God Zack wasn't looking at
her. The idea that he might be interested in her made her head spin and her
knees weak.

But she dismissed the notion as absurd. This was Zack
DiMarco. Women like her didn't end up with men like him. They dated lawyers or
insurance salesmen. Although they probably slept with the Zack DiMarco's of the
world once in a while.

Now there was a goal to aim for. Maybe he'd already
decided to aim for it. Maybe hot, steamy sex with her was his motive for this
romantic walk. Now she was really nervous. And confused.

"This is nice," she said on a squeak.

He looked down at her and smiled softly. "It
is."

She gulped and licked her ice cream in what she hoped
was a suggestive gesture but not a desperate one.

But she was too subtle. He didn't seem to notice.

"See, isn't it better when you lighten up a
little?" he said.

She nearly choked. So much for hot sex. "Lighten
up? What do you mean, lighten up? I'm perfectly light, thank you very
much."

He groaned. "Me and my big mouth."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He started to say something then stopped.

She really hated when people did that. "You were
going to say something then. What was it?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Tell me, Zack."

"Annie, let it slide. It wasn't important. And
what happened to the girl I've been shopping with all day?"

"Now what's
that
supposed to mean?"

He sighed. "It means you've changed
back to the argumentative woman who doesn't know how to enjoy herself."

"Doesn't know how to enjoy herself! What about
last night?"

He went very still. "I thought you didn't
remember much about last night."

She sniffed. "I don't. But I do remember having a
good time."

She shrugged one shoulder. "Of course. Why? What
happened afterwards?" Okay,
now
she was nervous. She had no
recollection of events after the bar. Did she pee her pants? Did she throw up
on his shoes? Uh-oh. Snippets of the previous night flickered through her
brain. She groaned. "Oh God, I threw up on your shoes, didn't I?"

He laughed, relaxed again. "Yes, but that's okay.
I've got other shoes."

She covered her eyes with her hand. "I'm so
embarrassed. I threw up on Zack DiMarco's shoes! How could I? I'm so sorry—"

"Annie," he pried her hand gently away from
her face, "it's okay. You enjoyed yourself, and that's the main thing. And
that's the only embarrassing thing you did last night, so don't worry."

She nodded but all she wanted to do was bury her head
in the sand.

"I'm never drinking again," she moaned.

"Sure you will. Tomorrow night actually. I'm
taking you to a club. But I'll keep a better eye on you this time now that I
know your alcohol tolerance level is about zero." He grinned and tapped
her nose with his cone, smearing the tip with ice cream.

"Hey!" she shouted, going cross-eyed looking
at the dollop of vanilla.

Zack shook so hard with laughter that he didn't see
her cone coming. His laughing stopped abruptly when ice cream splattered over
his chin.

The sudden silence and the sharp glint in his eyes
stopped Annie's heart. She'd done something terribly wrong. She'd just
ice-creamed Zack DiMarco! She bit her lip, didn't move for a split second, then
spun on her heel and took off across the sand.

"Oh no you don't," he growled.

She turned to see a grinning Zack running after her. With
his long legs she didn't stand a chance, so she stopped, put her left hand on
her hip and held out her right, pointing the cone at him.

"
En garde
," she shouted in her best
French accent.

"You think you can beat me in a food fight, huh? Well
you've picked the wrong opponent, Sweetheart." As he said it, he leaped
forward, grabbed her sword arm with his free hand and stuck his ice cream cone
into her face with his right.

She screamed, collapsed onto the sand in
a fit of giggles and wiped ice cream from her eyelids. "Mmmm," she
said, licking her fingers.

He fell to his knees beside her, grinning. Strands of
black hair fell over his forehead and into his warm, liquid eyes. The grin
faded to a sly smile as he studied her ice creamed face. "You look good
enough to eat."