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Zane followed her line of sight. One of her brothers had thrown his head back with laughter at something another model said. He wasn’t certain which twin it was, but he took a wild guess. “That one’s Charlie?”
“It is,” his sister confirmed. “Apparently, Pete called me out here for nothing.”
Her delectable pink mouth flattened into a line. “Not for nothing,” he coaxed, secretly enjoying the angry set of her jaw. “It’s a pretty day, and I’m happy to meet you.”
She gave him her full and startled attention. Zane struggled not to laugh. For whatever reason, this cutie wasn’t expecting to be flirted with. No doubt his amusement showed in his eyes. Rebecca’s brows drew together in confusion. “Why are you here exactly? Aren’t you too important?”
He did laugh then. “I usually do the interviews for our annual Hot Men of Harvard piece. Bad Boys Magazine has its own staff these days, but now and then I get nostalgic. When we started, I did everything from layout to selling ads. Anyway, I like to see what the latest generation of Harvard lights is up to. Your brothers were standouts. Very well spoken and personable. Their account of how you raised them is inspiring.”
Rebecca let out a gasp so sharp he couldn’t miss hearing it. “They told you that?”
“Shouldn’t they have?” His answer was the pallor that swept her face. If that weren’t enough to clue him in that something was wrong, one of her knees buckled. She looked as if she were going to boot or faint.
“Hey,” he said, quickly getting an arm around her. “Let’s find you somewhere to sit.”
He grabbed a bottled water from a passing magazine staffer, not wanting to pause more than that in guiding his distressed damsel to a shady spot. The nearest he saw was under a huge weeping willow. Rebecca was shaking as he settled her on the bench. He handed her the water, which she took a sip of.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m all right. That just took me by surprise.”
Zane sat next to her, figuring she could use his warmth. She seemed to be in shock. Her side was actually cold.
“Look,” he said, laying his hand gently on her knee. Despite being attracted to her, he tried to keep the touch platonic. “If you need me to pull the interview, I will. Your brothers didn’t act like they were breaking a confidence, and God knows my tiny journalist streak will cry—as human interest goes, the story is great. I will kill it, though, if it bothers you that much. We’ll find something else to sell issues.”
Rebecca rubbed her forehead. “I guess it’s not a deep dark secret anymore. They’re too old for anyone to take them away from me.”
Zane’s throat tightened the same way it had when he first saw her eyes. “Your brothers should have warned you they were going to spill the beans.”
To his surprise, she laughed. The sound was nice, low and a bit throaty. “Pete and Charlie know me too well to ask permission about some things. They must have decided I’d been holding on to that too long.”
“So you don’t mind? God knows I’d like to run the piece. Their stories of how you tried to pretend your father was still around were hilarious.”
Rebecca laughed again. “Did they tell you about our Christmas Eve with the mannequin?”
“How Charlie stayed up all night and moved it from chair to chair to convince the neighbors that it was real?”
“What about the Brazilian fry cook I hired to impersonate our dad for parent-teacher night? He had gray eyes, which was perfect, but he barely knew English. We pretended he had laryngitis and couldn’t speak.”
“That one I didn’t hear.”
Rebecca leaned back against the bench, her shoulders almost relaxed. “He was illegal and really sweet. I promised I’d sponsor him for a green card as soon as I was old enough and had a job where I could.”
“And did you?”
“I did. He works in LA now for Wolfgang Puck. That frosts me a little. He was a damn good cook. I’d be happy if he was still with me.”
Her smile was wry but totally beautiful. “You must have been scared,” he said softly. “Raising two boys by yourself at sixteen.”
“Terrified,” she said humorously. “Sometimes I still am.”
They smiled at each other, and something inside his chest swooped like a wave dropping. He’d had Trey to help him through his nightmare years. This woman had no one. “Your brothers were lucky to have you.”
“Oh no.” She shook her head in disagreement. “I’m lucky to have them. They’re such great kids. I don’t know how they turned out so good.”
Zane knew. The love she felt for them shone like a sun from her. Whatever mistakes she’d made, her brothers wouldn’t have doubted that. To him, who’d been anything but loved, it was no wonder they’d flourished. He wanted to touch her, more than the hand he’d left resting on her knee. Her cheek looked like it would be soft to stroke, her lips a dream to kiss.
“Would you have dinner with me?” he asked before he’d quite planned to.
She jerked in surprise. “Oh. I—”
“Coffee is fine too, if that seems lower key.”
She laughed and covered her lips. “It’s not that . . . I don’t know if you know this. It’s kind of a funny coincidence. Your CFO, Trey Hayworth, recently hired me to run your new restaurant.”
Zane sat straighter, drawing his hand back from her knee. “The Bad Boys Lounge on Charles Street?”
“That’s right. So I don’t know. Maybe you’re my employer too?”
Zane supposed he shouldn’t be taken aback by not knowing. The restaurant—their first that wasn’t part of a resort—was more Trey’s project than his. It was odd Trey hadn’t kept Zane in the loop, but not overly. “I’m . . . more of a silent partner there,” he said. “I’m pretty sure us having dinner wouldn’t break any rules.”
Rebecca stuck a thumbnail between her teeth, obviously considering this. Zane wasn’t accustomed to hesitation, certainly not from women who showed signs of finding him attractive.
“Should I reiterate the coffee option?” he offered, trying not to sound insulted.
Rebecca removed the thumbnail she was gnawing. “Sorry. I—” She squared her shoulders with a crispness that would have amused if it hadn’t been his ego that was stinging. “I’d be very happy to have dinner with you. I just feel obliged to warn you I’m not in practice for dating.”
Not in practice sounded like Rebecca wouldn’t be his usual speedy catch-and-release conquest. But maybe that was all right. He hadn’t lied to Trey the other night. He was tired of chasing females, only to leave them by the roadside. Admittedly, if this one let him bed her right away, he wouldn’t turn her down, but maybe actually talking to a woman on a date, with no expectations beyond that, wouldn’t be awful. He could relax and let her relax too. If she were as tightly wound as today’s exchange suggested, she needed it.
~
Like his CFO, Zane Alexander packed an extra punch in person. For one thing, he was plain old big—6’4” or 5” with muscle packed onto his muscle and shoulders she was certain could still play quarterback. Staring at him from her height-challenged state easily could have overwhelmed her.
Rebecca was fortunate she was ballsier than she looked.
Her hormones had a harder time digging in their heels. He was a hunk and a half. Great body. Great face. Killer smile and blue eyes. If Trey was quirkily good-looking, Zane was flat out handsome. His hair was a thick sandy color, expertly styled to create a just-rolled-out-of-bed, finger-combed casualness. He wore the same uniform as the rest of the magazine staff: straight-legged jeans topped by a short sleeve Henley with the Bad Boys logo on the left breast. No one looked bad in it, but as he leaned forward over his knees on that willow-shaded bench—the better to meet her gaze—he was drool worthy.
The gray waffle cotton hugged his torso lovingly. Even the sweat marks beneath his arms didn’t lessen his sexiness. From where she sat, his body’s reaction to the August heat just made him smell better. He and Trey both had good taste in cologne.
The fact that Zane had asked her out—and that she’d accepted—somewhat astonished her.
Should she have said yes? Would having dinner with him create more complications between her and Trey? Not that there necessarily was anything between them apart from a work relationship. They’d both agreed their hot-as-Hades indiscretion in the Bad Boys kitchen shouldn’t be repeated.
Crap, Rebecca thought, her insides melting like flambé—both for the hunk in front of her and the one she’d just remembered. A bead of sweat rolled down the small of her back. Could a woman cream through a pair of panties and blue jeans? That would be embarrassing.
“Rebecca?” Zane said like he was about to laugh. The back of one big knuckle brushed the side of her leg. It was a light touch, really, but it raised a pulsing tingle inside her clit.
