“All right.” She could handle this. A hug, even this sweet, wasn’t dangerous. Or so she tried to convince herself.

The elevator dinged again. They broke apart like boxers in the ring.

A healthy flush covered his cheekbones. “I’ll walk you to your room, if you’d like.”

Kneeling to pick up her purse, she mulled over the best way to get herself out of the situation she’d allowed herself to get into.

Christian tried to give her his most disarming smile, but it wasn’t easy when all he wanted to do was push her up against the nearest wall and sink inside of her. He knew without a doubt that they’d kissed before. Nearly every first kiss was an awkward positioning of hands and lips, but there had been none of that. They had come together like old lovers. She’d known exactly where to touch him, exactly how to use her tongue and teeth to drive him insane.

For once in his life, he was bothered by the meaningless kisses he’d given women, because for a woman like Zoe, no kiss was meaningless. They had been intimate before. He’d bet his career on it. At what level, he wasn’t certain.

Despite wanting to know, he respected her decision not to tell him. He knew all about pride and keeping up appearances. Besides, he was confident he could get it out of her later. Perhaps over a few glasses of wine.

“I’m not sure.” She bit at her bottom lip and he had the urge to kiss the spot.

He held up his hands and said, “I’m harmless…remember, knife lady?”

She grinned, and all the tension of the moment dissipated. Taking his arm, they walked down the hallway until she stopped at her door. “This is where I get off.” Eyes widening, her face turned red. “Don’t say it.”

“You’re no fun.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I want to see you again. Tomorrow.” Actually, he wanted to see her for the rest of the night, but he wanted to do things differently with her. Take his time for once.

“Are you asking me out on a date or is this more of the help you’re wanting from someone like me?” she asked, her eyes wary.

“About that—”

“It’s fine.”

“I don’t think that word means what you think it means.”

“Quit worrying,” she said with a little smile. “I’d like that explanation now, if you’re willing to share.”

If he shared everything, she might run in the opposite direction. “There are pictures of me that could negatively affect a worthwhile organization, and my—our agent seems to think that changing my reputation by being seen with you would help things should the pictures go viral.” Leaning closer, he breathed in the honeysuckle scent of her. “I won’t kiss you again, unless you ask me.”

Her eyes clouded. “Let’s keep things purely professional, okay?”

No, it wasn’t okay. But he had plenty of time to convince her to come around to his way of thinking. “Meet me around one at the main pool. I have a private cabana and your name will be on the list.”

She arched an elegant brow and he was entranced by the curve. Good God, if he stayed any longer he’d be composing sonnets to it.

“Aren’t you supposed to pick me up?” she asked with a teasing smile, then bit her lip. “I don’t mind flirting with you, if you think it will help. Plus, it’s good for my ego.”

Progress, no matter how small, was progress. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do all night, woman.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “So, is it a date?”

She pushed open her door and walked in, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Guess you’ll have to wait until one to find out. Well, I had fun tonight. Sorta. It was interesting to say the least. Have a good night.”

“Good night, Zoe,” he said as she smiled at him and shut the door. He heard a crash and a ‘Good Lord!’ “You okay in there?” He pressed his forehead against the door as he waited for her answer.

“I’m fi—okay,” came her shout from within. “Stupid table got in my way.”

“Right, then. Good night.”

“Night,” she called through the door.

He grinned as he walked away, hands shoved in his pockets, ignoring the pain and happier than he’d been in a long, long time.

Chapter Seven

Christian glanced at the Breitling on his wrist. 12:55. He had five minutes until he saw Zoe again. Five minutes before he’d find out if she would show. Five minutes until he lost his damn mind waiting for her.

“What’s gotten into you?” Brennen was sprawled on an enormous lounger trying to get rid of a massive hangover with a little hair of the dog.

A pretty brunette with green eyes and killer wit.

“Nothing,” Christian said, looking at his watch again. 12:57. His heart sped up as a brunette wearing a tiny bikini walked toward them, then slowed as he realized it wasn’t Zoe.

Brennen laughed and then groaned, adjusting his sunglasses before pulling on a baseball cap. “You’re so full of shit, but I’ll bide my time. Can’t wait to meet the hot piece of ass that’s got you standing at attention.”

“She’s not a hot piece of ass,” Christian said, earning a confused look from Brennen. “I mean she’s hot, but Zoe’s—”

“An actual person? I thought zoe was French for awesome,” Brennen said. “I also thought you were out of your mind last night. How many women did you turn down?”

After leaving Zoe, Christian had headed to the nightclub to meet up with Brennen and Wade. As luck would have had it, they’d already become acquainted with Vanessa and the twins.

For once, he had been content to relax, smile for pictures and drink some beer. He’d thought nothing of turning down a few dozen fangirls’ offers of bedtime happy hour. But of course, he’d told himself as he went to bed (alone), it had nothing to do with Zoe Ambrose.

“As many as I needed to. Look, be nice to her. None of your usual bullshit,” Christian warned.

Brennen grabbed his chest and made a face. “You hurt me, bro. You really do.”

Christian swore as he glanced at his watch again. It was past one and still no sign of her. He’d been stood up and he didn’t have her damn number. But he did have her room number. He motioned a pool waitress over.

“You look pissed,” Brennen said.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Christian heard a crash, then a ‘whoops’ and an ‘I’m so sorry’. His entire body relaxed and then tensed in anticipation as Zoe came into view, wearing a bright yellow sundress and wedge shoes. Her hair piled on top of her head like she’d just gotten out of the shower… or bed.

“Never mind,” he said to an obviously disappointed woman wearing a barely there bikini and holding a tray. She tossed her hair and sauntered off.

Zoe gave him a big smile. “Hi.”

Without even thinking about it he met her halfway. “You’re late,” he complained.

“But I’m so worth it.” She grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers through his as if it was something they did all the time. And he liked it.

“We’ll see about that. What took you so long?” He took her bag with his free one. What in God’s name did she have in it?

“Thanks for taking that! So, I got lost and then the chick at the desk wouldn’t believe me when I said I was on your list. I needed to show ID which meant I had to go all the way back to my room to get it. Then I bumped into one of the pool waiters, but no one got hurt or covered in anything. It’s the story of my life,” she said with a self-deprecating smile.

“Let’s go. I want you to meet a couple of my friends. If they were here…”

The cabana was empty and Christian had no idea where Brennen had wandered off to. Probably he’d seen something shiny. On a woman.

“Guess my reputation preceded me.” She let go of his hand and he frowned as he realized that he hadn’t wanted her to let go.

“You know, the whole knife thing, then the palm trees,” she added, making a little face. Obviously she’d taken his frown the wrong way.

Setting her bag on a nearby table, he caught himself reaching for her hand, but she hadn’t noticed. He flexed his fingers. “I reckoned I’d let that be my secret weapon if Brennen got too handsy.” He couldn’t stop thinking holding her hand again. Of their fingers entangling. She brushed a strand of hair away from her face and he grew hard. He wanted her hand on him, his body. One way or another he would hold her hand again.

One way or another he’d make himself a doctor’s appointment to have his head examined.

“But I’m yours—your date, I mean.”

“Oh?”

The wicked gleam in his eyes made Zoe flush. She wasn’t his anything. Nothing but supposedly good press. Yet, she knew he wanted more. Then again, men like him, without limitations, always wanted more.

“At least for the general public, I am,” she added.

The wicked gleam gave way to disappointment. “That you are.”

“Do you have a place where I can change? I was running late and had to bring my swimsuit with me.”

He wiggled his brows, completely recovered. “Dying to see me?”

She guessed being an actor had its benefits. “More like dying to see the sun. It’s been freezing cold back home.”

“I’m wounded.”

“I’m sure you’ll recover.” She looked around the cabana. “Anyway, place to change?”

“Well, you could go all the way back inside to the ladies room, or I can hold up a towel for you back here.” He gave her a smile that made her body tingle, as if it’d been asleep and found a reason to wake up.

“Would you keep your back turned?” She pulled the bikini Melanie had picked out for her out of her bag. Of course there wasn’t much to it, but there were women (and men) wearing a lot less.

Christian grabbed a large towel and held it up. “Scout’s honor.”

Zoe gave a little shrug. She could be daring and all it-stays-in-Vegas-like. “Fine.” She gave him her back as she slipped her panties off under her dress and her bathing suit bottom on before she shimmied out of the cotton cover-up. She didn’t want to take the chance she’d flash him, even if he was holding up a towel and supposedly looking in the opposite direction. “Almost done,” she called out, whirling around and finding him perusing her body.

Gasping, she quickly covered her breasts with her hands. “I thought you wouldn’t look. You said ‘Scout’s honor’!’”

He took a step forward and crowded her into the corner, only the towel between their bodies. “I lied.” The heat of his body seeped through the material. “You should’ve warned me.”

“About what?”

“How you’d look in a bikini.” It didn’t sound like he was insulting her, but she couldn’t be sure.

“I don’t have my top on.”

“Trust me, I noticed.”

“I have to put my top on.” Her nipples grew hard against her palms.

Gold-tipped lashes lowered fractionally. “No, you don’t.”

Before she could answer, someone whistled. She rose to the balls of her feet, looking over one of Christian’s shoulders. Two infamous faces accompanied by twins and a tall blonde with an annoyed look on her pretty face stood just beyond the opening of the cabana.

“Oh my God.” She frantically searched for her top, knocking over her bag.

“They can’t see anything,” Christian murmured. “Unfortunately, neither can I.”

She snatched the silver top from the ground and tried to secure it at the back. “But I can see them.” On the second try, the hook finally grabbed the tiny slot.

“You started without me? That’s totally not Zoe,” one of the men called out.

She wrinkled her brow. That was strange. Who did they think she was?

Christian got a funny look on his face before he turned around, throwing the towel to the side. “Cut it out, Brennen.”

“Just saying what we’re all thinking,” Brennen said.

More than a little embarrassed at being caught topless and with Christian, she gave the group a lopsided smile and half waved as they moved closer. “Hi, I’m Zoe.”

“Hell-o, Zoe,” Brennen flashed a confident smile. “I’m Brennen.” He grabbed the dark-haired man beside him and put him into a headlock. “And this bundle of joy is my brother, Wade. Don’t mind the bitch face. It’s his constipated— I mean contemplative look.”

Wade shook off the mock wrestling hold and gave his brother the finger. Turning to Zoe, he said, “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” Zoe struggled not to laugh at the brothers.

“Zoe?” The blonde’s lips twisted on her name. She glared at Zoe, then at Christian.

He wrapped an arm around Zoe’s shoulders, pulling her closer. “Yes, this is my good friend, Zoe.”

Good friend? Oh-kay. “Nice to meet you,” Zoe said.

“It’s so Zoe to meet another one of Ian’s friends,” said the twin in the purple bikini.

“Yes,” Zoe said slowly, “that’s me.”

The twin wearing a white one piece shook her head. “No, Zoe is French for awesome.”

For a couple of minutes, an uncomfortable silence permeated the air. No one but Vanessa would look at Zoe. It was as though everyone was in on a joke, but her. Or maybe the joke was on her. Her face heated in increasingly humiliating levels.