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At first she tried to look everywhere except at Zack, but her traitorous eyes couldn't stop turning to him. He was handsome, in a Wild West kind of way. That languorous pose displayed the corded muscles under his T-shirt to perfection. His hair hadn't suffered at all by being under the helmet—strands of it flopped across his forehead, messy, sexy. He was gorgeous. What hot-blooded woman could deny it? Certainly not the one sitting beside him, trying hard not to get caught out staring.
"When you've finished staring, maybe we could discuss our plan."
Oops. "What plan?" she asked casually.
He turned to her and those chocolate eyes looked good enough to eat as his gaze roamed with leisurely arrogance across her face. "How we're going to turn you into a new woman."
Annie swallowed the last bite of her sandwich too quickly and nearly choked. She suddenly felt uncomfortable about the whole deal. Trying to be someone she wasn't was...wrong, deceitful. No, more than that. It hurt. Yeah, that's what bothered her. It meant she, the real Annie, wasn't good enough. She forced down the emotions those thoughts stirred up. Long forgotten emotions she wished would stay that way.
But they wouldn't. Not while Zack relished the task of changing her into a wild child. It was as if he couldn't wait to see the results of his handiwork.
And that was just downright insulting.
"So, what's the plan?" she asked through clenched jaw. She tried hard to banish her insecurities—they were for a later time, when she was alone and he wasn't around to unsettle her with his confidence and come-here eyes.
"Tonight, I'll take you to a bar. We'll have a few beers, maybe some spirits if you're coping okay, then—"
"Of course I'll cope," she snapped. Relax, Annie. It's his problem if he doesn't like you the way you are. She knew that. So why did his eagerness hurt?
"Then tomorrow, I'll take you shopping."
"Shopping? For what?"
"Clothes. You can't wear that jacket if you want to hang out with me. You need some outfits that will make you more comfortable around people like your potential client."
Yep, she'd guessed right. He was embarrassed to be seen with her. That hurt, more than she liked to admit. Sure, she wasn't as well endowed as the women he usually hung out with, but she wasn't that bad.
Was she?
"You made me wear that stupid jacket," she countered.
"Don't remind me. I'm just glad no one recognized me under the helmet."
"Yeah, lucky," she sneered. "Anyway, my clothes aren't all terrible."
"After rummaging through your entire wardrobe earlier, I now know what you like to wear. None of it is appropriate for the image I'm trying to create."
Image. So it was nothing to do with her, just an image he wanted her to project. Fine, she could deal with that.
"And what image would that be?" she asked sweetly, playing along.
"Sleazy Hollywood agent wanted by everyone."
"I'm not sure about the sleazy part."
"Me either, but it's my gut instinct and I'm going with it. We'll turn you into the woman every man wants to sleep with and every woman wants to, well, sleep with."
Annie laughed.
Zack grinned back. "That's better. You should do that more often."
Embarrassed, she immediately stopped smiling. Then scolded herself for being too contrary. "I don't know about all this. I'm not sure I can pull it off."
"Why not? A change of clothes, hairstyle and more makeup and you'll at least look the part. Besides, you've got a great teacher."
She cocked a brow at him but said nothing. He didn't really get it. He didn't understand that it was more than just clothes and makeup. It was confidence, and she had a severe lack of that commodity in group situations, especially when everyone else oozed it. Of course, a man like Zack wouldn't ever understand that. He had it all—looks, money, sex appeal. He was perfect—probably always had been. How could he ever come close to understanding what it was like being a nerd? Hell knows, other people had tried to change her—her father for one—and not succeeded. What made Zack think he could?
"So what else?" she said. "Are you going to take me to some parties?"
He shrugged. "I don't really attend many."
"Oh? That's not the impression I get."
His eyes narrowed. "And where did you get that impression from?"
"I, um, have to read the gossip pages in the papers. It's part of my job."
"Sure, I bet it is," he growled. "They're wrong anyway. I never attend half the things they have me at."
Yeah, right. Just like he never slept with half the women they have him sleeping with.
A prickly silence settled into the dense air surrounding them. Annie wanted to say something, anything, to diffuse it but Zack seemed to be brooding. Eventually she decided to return to the one thing they had in common—changing her into a social butterfly. She might as well accept that it was going to happen, temporarily at least.
"So apart from getting drunk and spending money, what else are you going to teach me, oh Master?"
Finally he chuckled. He seemed as relieved as she was to get the conversation flowing again. For someone so arrogant and confident, he was surprisingly sensitive about his own image.
"I'm going to teach you to ride a motorbike."
Annie let out a small yelp of protest. "You've got to be joking."
He shook his head.
"There is no way I'm getting on that machine again after today. Especially to ride it by myself. It's dangerous. Didn't you notice me shaking after I got off?"
He shrugged. "I thought I just made you nervous."
"In your dreams, DiMarco."
His brow furrowed but a smile played at his mouth. "Pity. I thought I had some kind of affect on you. It was good for my ego."
"Like your ego needs any help."
"Hey, my ego's as fragile as the next guy's. Especially when a woman doesn't even crack a smile when he makes a joke."
"You haven't said anything funny!"
"Gee thanks. Now I'm shattered."
She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway.
He lay on his back and closed his eyes. "Well, at least I don't have to teach you attitude. You've got enough of that to knock poor little Doggie back to his mommy in New York."
"His name's Dug-E."
But he didn't seem to hear her. His breathing became soft and his arms, crossed over his chest, rose and fell to an even rhythm.
Annie watched him. Did he really think he actually made her nervous? Unbelievable!
Unbelievably sexy, too. Her admiring gaze traveled the length of him. His sheer size was magnificent, as was the bulge in his jeans that was rumored—according to gossip—to be as impressive as it promised. An image of him naked flashed through her mind and it was all she could do not to jump him and have her way with him.
She let her eyes roam back up to his face. The strong contours of his Italian heritage were a perfect canvas for the high cheekbones, straight nose and almond shaped eyes. And the soft lips, strung into a cheeky bow, was way too delicious too ignore.
She imagined kissing those lips, right now, as he lay on the grass beside her. Would he wake up? Would he kiss her back? She felt like Sleeping Beauty in reverse. Zack was certainly a beauty all right—but this was no fairy tale and she was no Princess Charming. More likely he'd wake up and run a mile.
But since she could never have him on a more intimate basis, surely a little kiss would be all right. Just a little peck on those yummy lips, to taste them. The opportunity would soon pass if she didn't grab it. All she wanted to do was touch his mouth with her own before she lost her nerve.
She leaned forward, her face inches from his, and closed her eyes. It was now or never.
CHAPTER 5
Annie leaned over him. Touched him. Zack, in his semi-conscious state, could sense her closeness. The desire to feel the delicate brush of her skin against his, or maybe a nipple caressing his arm, overwhelmed him. Even his lips tingled in anticipation of a small kiss.
The whisper-light stroke against his forehead might have been a dream but he wanted to believe it was real, that she'd kissed him there.
Do it again.
He felt light-headed, dazed by the heat and his own drowsiness. But there was a definite desire on both their parts—the air between them buzzed with it.
The same feather-like caress brushed the hair from his forehead. In his dreams Annie was so close he could almost taste her. She smelled like roses...
A small gasp near his right ear quickened his pulse. "Annie," he murmured, or maybe only dreamed he did. Then all previous thoughts were swamped by a driving need to feel her lips on his. To feel—
