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“I aim to please, ma’am,” he said in his best Wild West accent and she burst out laughing again. God, he could listen to her laugh for days on end. He would make it his mission to keep her exactly as she was at this moment: Sitting in the sun smiling, with wisps of dark hair curling around her face as she treated him like a man, not a movie star.
“Saw you staring, by the way.”
Heat pricked at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry?”
“I might have liked it.”
“Really?” Good God, could he come up with better replies than this? His so-called smooth lines were rougher than a cold reading of a script.
She held out her finger and thumb, bringing them together until they almost touched. “A little.”
“Shall I do it again?”
“I think you’ve exceeded your ogling limit.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a tiny purple flip flop decorating the lobe. “What time is it?”
He glanced at his watch. “Almost five,” he replied. “Why? Big date?”
Her cheeks, reddened by the sun, turned pinker. “Actually, yes. I met this guy in the lobby and he wanted to apologize for tripping me in the airport. He texted me while you were otherwise occupied in the pool earlier.”
That wasn’t in the realm of acceptable answers to his question. “You’re going out with that lawyer? And he has your number? I don’t have your number.” She’d just met the guy. He could be some homicidal maniac or, more importantly, interested in having sex with her. Besides, Christian had been interested in having sex with her first.
Holy mother of God, when had he ever thought such blatantly possessive and juvenile things about a woman?
“You didn’t ask.”
She had a point, but logic be damned. “Give me your number and I’ll take you out instead of Mr. Brooks Brothers Suit. We’ll go to one of the clubs, then hit up a bar that has fantastic VIP rooms.”
Green eyes narrowed. “Taylor Harper and I have reservations at Gigi’s in two hours. That’s what grown people do. Go out on real dates, at real places and eat real food.”
“But Gigi’s is where you take a woman when you want to do things with her,” Christian said, trying to ignore the darts of jealousy hitting him in the chest. “Of the sexual kind,” he growled.
“Does that mean you have a frequent diner card with them? Or a table always on reserve?”
She was so close to the truth that it galled him. “Cancel your date.”
Instead of answering him, she got out of the pool and walked toward the private cabana. Vanessa texted on her phone while Wade snored.
Christian trailed after the small, wet footprints on the tile.
After wrapping a towel around her body, she collected her belongings. “Thanks for inviting me to hang out with you.”
“That’s it—after what happened in the elevator and today?”
Sighing, she picked up her bag and hefted it on her shoulder. “It was a mistake I enjoyed making at the time while today was…the two of us playing it up to the public.”
“Not buying it. You don’t operate that way.”
“But it’s how you operate.” She moved to the entrance of the cabana, pausing at the opening. “I can admit I’m attracted to you, Christian, but I’m not attracted to your lifestyle, your ideas of dating or temporarily changing your ways to get your way.”
His jaw tightened, the pressure giving way to pain. “I’m not doing this to get my way.”
“Then own the mistake of the pictures before they go viral.”
“It’s not that simple.”
Disappointment colored her features. Her shoulders drooped a little. “You can keep my book. Consider it a gift, and I truly hope you get the part of Dimitri.” Once again, she walked away from him and what he offered. She stopped, turned back and gazed at him.
“Yes?” Had she changed her mind? Doubtful, but hope sparked inside of him anyway.
“Everyone deserves the chance to redeem themself.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “So if you’d still like my help tomorrow, I’m available. Emphasis on the word help. Nothing more.”
Relief eased the pain in his jaw. “More than I deserve.”
“See you later.”
“Count on it.”
He kept an eye on her as she made her way through the maze of chairs, tables and people. Ideas zoomed around in his head as he plotted. There was no way in hell Taylor Harper would be on any date with Zoe, not tonight or for the rest of his stay. No matter how Cro-Magnon it sounded, Christian had already staked his claim on her.
“It’s Ian Romanov,” someone squealed and he whirled around. A large group of fans rushed him, but his bodyguards quickly secured the area.
“It’s okay Nathan, Henry. I’ve got this.” A genuine smile kicked up the corners of his mouth as he greeted the people that made him famous.
Chapter Nine
Christian knocked on the hotel room door, slid the key in the slot and turned the knob. He opened the door a crack and called out, “Housekeeping.”
“I think you have the wrong room.” Zoe appeared before him, wearing a plush robe and a towel wrapped turban style around her hair. Her jaw dropped when their eyes met. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Actually, yes.” He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
“Get out. I have a date to finish getting ready for.” Her lips puckered liked she’d just swallowed a lemon. It was becoming her signature expression when he annoyed her. He rather liked it.
Noting the absence of flowers and an abundance of clothes scattered everywhere, Christian raked a hand through his hair in annoyance. “Where are your flowers?”
She tilted her head to one side, hands fisting on her hips. “You broke into my hotel room to ask about flowers?”
“Can’t accuse me of that crime, love.” He waved the room key in his hand. “I got this all fair and square.” Nicking it from the housekeeper’s cart had been good use of the skills he’d learned to play a thief, and he might have already had prior practice while attending Eton.
“Way to use your celebrity powers for good.”
Her assumptions amused and annoyed him at the same time. “Wasn’t my celebrity she was after, Zoe.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Ian.” She bent at the waist and shook her hair out of the towel. When she stood, it fell over her shoulders in soft, sable-colored waves still damp from the shower. “You need to leave. Taylor will be here soon.”
