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After removing a pair of high heels and a pad of post-its from the nearest chair, Christian slouched down in it. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt as she stared at him. Just to watch her blush, he unbuttoned the two more. “He’s not coming.”

“Yes, he is,” she insisted as the room’s phone rang. “Who would be calling me?”

“Taylor Harper calling to cancel,” he said under his breath. Amazing what people would do with the right incentive. While she talked, Christian played ‘Angry Birds’ on his phone.

Turning, her eyes narrowed to slits. “I can’t believe you talked him into standing me up.”

“May I point out that he called to cancel, which is entirely different than being stood up.” A towel smacked him in the head when he looked down again and he lost his momentum. “Hey, I almost had the last pig gone!”

“Who cares about that stupid ‘Furious Pigeons’ game. You stuck your nose where it doesn’t belong,” she accused.

“It’s called ‘Angry Birds’.”

“Whatever.” Her hands fluttered in the air. “And how would you know it’s different? I bet you’ve never been stood up in your entire life, you asshat.”

“Mr. Fulner calls you a prostitute and he’s being ugly while I convince a perv not to go out with you and that makes me an asshat? Jesus, woman, get your priorities straight.” Christian threw the towel back at her, hitting her in the chest. The towel slid to the floor. “He’d been trying to find nude pictures of you on the internet.”

Gasping, she grabbed a pillow off of the bed. “You’re so full of it.”

Yeah, he was but he didn’t give a shit. Besides, the wanker had jumped at the chance to go out with Vanessa, more than happy to cancel his date with Zoe. While Vanessa had been entirely pleased when Christian informed her that Mr. Harper was on retainer for one of the biggest producers in the business.

Zoe smacked him with the pillow.

“Would you stop with the juvenile hitting? One would think a woman knocking on thirty’s door would know how to behave with decorum.”

“Now you sound like an asshat. For your information, I turned twenty eight last week.” She thumped him again, harder this time.

“Stop hitting me.” He shot up from his chair, dropping his phone on the bed. He grabbed her by the wrist, trying to prevent her from smacking him again.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Give me the bloody pillow.”

She managed to get in another blow. He jerked her to him, one arm snaking around her back to grab the pillow from her. A sound of pure pain left her lips. Horrified, he released her. “I’m sorry…I”

“You didn’t—it’s me,” she said.

“Oh, hell. Sunburn?”

Tears leaked from her eyes as she nodded. “I didn’t realize how bad until after I showered and looked at my back in the mirror. And I can’t get the aloe where it needs to go,” she said with a little sniff, then laugh. “I didn’t know how I was going to get through my date tonight. The robe was killing me.”

He gently wiped her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Let me. It’s the least I can do for being an asshat.”

Zoe eyed him, wondering if this was another trick to try get her nude.

“I promise to be very clinical as I go about it.”

“The bottle of aloe is over there.” She pointed at the small table placed beside the windows in the room. Turning away from him, she let her robe fall to her waist.

Christian cursed. “I knew I should’ve told you to put on more sunscreen,” he said, sweeping her hair away. “Do you have something to hold all this up?”

“I did reapply. Megan, one of the twins, helped me get my back, but it wasn’t enough.” Zoe gathered her hair, taking the hair tie off of her wrist, and placed in a loose knot. She heard him open the plastic bottle and squeeze the green liquid in his hands.

“This might be a little—”

“C-cold.”

His fingers glided, whisper light over her shoulders and down her back. She moaned as the liquid cooled her reddened skin.

“More?”

“Please.” Before she could finish saying the word, he spread more aloe on her skin. Then he stopped.

“Better now?”

She pulled the robe up and turned to face him. It made absolutely no sense she was disappointed he’d done exactly as he promised. “Thank you.”

He clapped his hands together. “Now that I’ve ruined any chance of you wanting to ever spend time with me again, I’ll be off.”

“Wait.” Taking a chance and a deep breath, she said, “Let’s go out to dinner.”

“Says the woman whose robe was killing her.”

Gritting her teeth, she strode to the closet and started pulling shirts and dresses out. “I’m sure there’s something backless in here that I could wear.” She found a dark green halter-top and held it up. “Ah-ha.”

“Won’t work.”

“Oh ye of little faith. I’ll be right back.” Taking the shirt off of the hanger, she moved to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She shrugged off her robe and hung it on the back of the door.

Crap, she forgot her skirt. Didn’t matter—she’d get it in a minute. Slipping the shirt over her head, she bit her lip as the material scraped against her skin. She blew out a steadying breath, then quickly tied the straps behind her neck and grabbed a towel to wrap around her waist.

Christian sat in the chair near the window, playing on his cell as she entered the bedroom. “Tada!”

Glancing up at her, he frowned. “That particular shade of green nearly matches the color of your face.” He rose from the bed. “Turn around.”

After she did as he asked, she flashed a smile. “Satisfied?” Yep, she was an idiot. The shirt hurt like hell.

“Satisfied with you being in pain? Hardly.”

Conceding defeat, she tugged at the straps around her neck. “You can go. I’ll stay here and order in.”

“Scissors.”

“What?”

He walked around her, loosening the material of the shirt from where it hit her back. “If you had some scissors, I could cut the material down to the hem. You aren’t burnt there.” His fingers lightly touched the skin between her shirt and the towel. “What’s under this?”

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