The Billionaire Bad Boys Club(29)
Author: Emma Holly

Trey came into the bathroom as Zane scraped five o’clock shadow from his cheeks. Stubble didn’t suit him like it did Trey.

“Going out?” Trey asked, sounding a bit surprised.

Zane rinsed the razor under the tap. “Yes. With the older sister of some kids who were in the shoot today.”

Trey leaned against the doorway. “Pretty?”

“Yes.” He started on the other side. Part of him suspected he ought to tell Trey his date was Rebecca. She was his employee, and he might worry Zane would mess that up. The thing was, Zane didn’t want to be told to watch his step with her. The chances they’d have a second date were small—or that this one would go so badly she’d feel a need to flee the state. In any case, Trey hadn’t told Zane he’d hired her. Maybe Zane was being stubborn, but he shouldn’t have to get Trey’s approval.

“Missed a spot,” Trey said, taking the razor from him. He tipped Zane’s chin sideways with his fingers, dragging the blade carefully up his throat. His touch was pleasant and familiar, creating a heaviness in Zane’s groin that wasn’t quite an erection. Finished, Trey set down the razor and smiled at him. “Now you’re perfect.”

His green-gold eyes were fond. Emotion rose inside Zane, strong as a summer storm. “You’re perfect,” he said back.

Trey laughed and kissed his cheek. “You have your car, right? I can take the limo home without you?”

“Yes. I don’t think I’ll be home too late. This woman is no sure thing.”

He spoke without considering how the claim would sound. Trey lifted his dark brows. “Not losing your touch, are you?”

“Doubt it.” Zane grinned even as a prick of guilt for holding back information urged him to be honest. “This one is nice to talk to is all. We had some common ground.”

“Well, good,” Trey said, but as if he wasn’t sure it was. He hesitated. “Have a good time.”

He left before Zane could figure out how to close the odd little distance that had opened between them. He shrugged as Trey shut the mini-apartment’s outer door. He probably shouldn’t worry. He and Trey were solid. Nothing stayed off between them long.

~

By the time her cheap bedside clock ticked to six, Rebecca was ready to admit her brothers were right about her wardrobe. She had nothing date-appropriate to wear—not her work clothes, not her jeans, not her suddenly sorry-seeming beige shirtwaist dress.

It was just her luck that the doorbell rang while she was in it.

“Screw it,” she said to her reflection. She’d showered and shaved her legs and slapped on both lipstick and mascara. This was as good as she got. If Zane Alexander didn’t like it, she couldn’t help that now.

When she opened the door, the warmth of his smile nearly wiped out her nervousness.

“You look so nice!” she exclaimed, unable to hold it in. He was wearing pale linen trousers with a thin designer-y black T-shirt. His narrow leather belt probably cost more than her dress, and never mind his sharp-looking shoes.

“Thank you.” He bent to kiss her cheek, wafting the scent of soap and cologne over her. “You look pretty nice yourself.”

“Ugh,” she said, at which he raised his brows. “All right, I’m supposed thank people for compliments, but I know you’re lying. I’m afraid this is the only dress I own.”

“You could have worn jeans.”

“I considered them, believe me. This is what I was in when the doorbell rang.”

He laughed, seeming to enjoy her neurotic honesty. “I could mention that, to me, you’d look good in a sack.”

“Hm.” She gazed at him sidelong. “You’re pretty good at this lying thing.”

He laughed at that too, further lightening her mood. With a flair she couldn’t help but appreciate, he presented her with a bent elbow. “Ready to go?”

Sliding her arm into the crook of his was a pleasure she wasn’t prepared for. His skin was warm, his golden body hair like silk. Her arm was bare against both. She shivered, and then he did, and then he laughed again.

“See,” he teased. “You don’t need fancy dresses to get to me.”

Rebecca didn’t know if their destination was his original choice, or if he’d switched gears to make her more comfortable. Whichever it was, he took her to The Cellar Pub, a local hole in the wall that offered a dizzying array of craft beers and burgers.

“This okay?” he asked as she scanned the menu posted outside the entrance.

“Perfect,” she said, only to be surprised by how genuinely pleased his smile of response was.

The place was crowded with young people—of which you are one, she reminded herself. Zane got them a booth in a back corner. Rebecca decided he was one of those people who felt at home anywhere. Like a big slouchy cat, he relaxed against the seat, arm stretched along the back and knees sprawled casually. Rebecca wished she could imitate him. Her limbs all felt as stiff as pokers.

When the waitress came, he convinced her to bring them a tray of small samples for the beers. “With labels,” he said, slipping a folded hundred into her hand. “I know it’s a hassle, but we’d really be grateful.”

“How did you know I wanted to do that?” Rebecca asked.

“Just a guess,” he said, pleased again. “Chefs like to taste things, don’t they?”

“They do,” she said, pleased with him as well.

By the sixth tasting sample, Rebecca’s neck unkinked.

“So . . .” Zane said on a teasing note. “What’s the story about that dress?”

“Oh God.”

“I told you I didn’t mind but, seriously, only one? What do you wear on dates? And don’t tell me you never go, because you’re too pretty.”

“I guess I don’t go on date-y dates.”

Zane put his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand. He was silently—and grinningly—inviting her to go on.

“Oh fine. I feel most comfortable in work clothes. My closet is full of black trousers and button-up white shirts.”

She turned the shot glass she was currently sampling from in a circle. Zane reached lazily out and covered her hand with his. His touch stilled more than her fingers. She could actually feel her pulse slow. “Why do you feel most comfortable in work clothes?”

“You don’t really want to know that.”

“Yes I do.” His thumb rubbed the side of hers, stirring hot sensations his knowing eyes seemed completely aware of. Rebecca tensed her thighs. “Does it have to do with raising your brothers?”