Free Billionaire Bad Boy by C.J. Archer Page A
Authors: C.J. Archer
ice cream at sunset?
Oh boy.
CHAPTER 8
Annie's face burned. Thank God Zack wasn't looking at
her. The idea that he might be interested in her made her head spin and her
knees weak.
But she dismissed the notion as absurd. This was Zack
DiMarco. Women like her didn't end up with men like him. They dated lawyers or
insurance salesmen. Although they probably slept with the Zack DiMarco's of the
world once in a while.
Now there was a goal to aim for. Maybe he'd already
decided to aim for it. Maybe hot, steamy sex with her was his motive for this
romantic walk. Now she was really nervous. And confused.
"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
Oh boy.
CHAPTER 8
Annie's face burned. Thank God Zack wasn't looking at
her. The idea that he might be interested in her made her head spin and her
knees weak.
But she dismissed the notion as absurd. This was Zack
DiMarco. Women like her didn't end up with men like him. They dated lawyers or
insurance salesmen. Although they probably slept with the Zack DiMarco's of the
world once in a while.
Now there was a goal to aim for. Maybe he'd already
decided to aim for it. Maybe hot, steamy sex with her was his motive for this
romantic walk. Now she was really nervous. And confused.
"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