Billionaire Bad Boy(17)
Author: Kendra Little

"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."

"At the bar?"

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."

She caught her breath when his eyelids drooped. His smile vanished and he lowered his face to hers.

The kiss felt strangely familiar, but she ignored that sensation in favor of the other ones assailing her. The ones that made her toes tingle, made her heart beat as fast as a butterfly’s wings and made her forget what the hell she was doing kissing Zack DiMarco, a man so out of her league his team didn’t even play on the same planet as hers.

But the moment was spoiled when he abruptly pulled away and swore. Not the most encouraging gesture. "Sorry," he muttered as he stood. He looked everywhere but at her, ran his hand through his hair, rubbing ice cream through it, and apologized again.

Annie stood on wobbly legs, trying to appear like she didn’t care. But she probably didn’t succeed considering her heart raced and her mind whirled. "That’s okay." What else could she say? The last time a kiss had ended with swearing and apologies, she’d been playing chase with Benny Furland in the school yard and their braces had locked together. Definitely not a good sign.

"No, you don’t understand," Zack muttered. "Hell, I don’t really understand, but you said it yourself last night, I’m not your type. Well, you’re not my type either so let’s just leave it at that."

Last night? Uh oh. Annie drew her brows together. "I said that?" Well, it was true, only she wished they’d avoided the topic altogether. Now things would just get awkward between them.

He didn’t answer her but spun round and walked off up the beach. Running to catch up, she made yet another mental note to never drink again.

***

Kissing Annie the first time had been a mistake. Kissing her the second time was a monumental disaster. Zack couldn’t get her or that kiss out of his head. She’d looked so delicious as she lay on the beach, covered in ice cream, giggling and staring up at him through those brilliant eyes.

It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to feel so much desire, so much need, for one woman. But he did, and now he’d pay for it because he had to be with her, but not be with her.

They drove in silence. Zack wondered if she understood why he’d stopped the kiss. Probably she didn’t, but to her credit, she didn’t pursue it. He wouldn’t have a clue how to explain it to her without hurting her feelings anyway.

But he had to at least justify it to himself. That was easier. Annie was a quiet, sensible woman. She could do better than a playboy with a dubious past. And he certainly didn’t want to be tied to a woman who could wrap him around her little finger. He couldn’t settle down with one woman. One petite, sexy woman…

Okay, so convincing himself wasn’t as easy as he thought.

And there was that little matter of her off-handed comment last night. I don’t like guys like you. Had she thrown that at him in frustration? Or did she really mean it? From what Bob had told him, she usually dated safe men with safe jobs and normal backgrounds. Why would she want someone like him? Someone with a shady past and a reputation for dating every woman he knew.