Seven
RATHER THAN ANSWER, he held out a hand. “Zairn Lomond.”
What was he doing? Introducing himself, why would he be…? “Oh, I get it,” Roxie said, catching up to his motivation. “You’re trying to erase the last five minutes.”
“Trying a different approach. You don’t know me; that won’t change unless I do it right.”
“I am not easily charmed.” Or eager to trust his intentions. “Or intimidated.”
“I noticed that,” he said, raising his hand higher. “And you would be?”
“Roxie Kyst.”
Relenting because it was polite, she kept her suspicion locked onto him as his fingers curled around hers.
They didn’t so much shake as just hold hands; the heat of his began to permeate hers, lighting something intimate in his gaze.
Uh-uh. Nope. Dial it down, Cowboy. She took her hand back in a hurry.
“Nice to meet you, Roxie Kyst. Roxie’s short for Roxanne?”
“Roxanna,” she said. “But close enough.”
“It doesn’t upset you when people get it wrong?”
A slight smile curved her lips. “There are real, honest to God problems in the world that should upset all of us. A stranger making assumptions about my name isn’t on that list.”
“That’s a good attitude,” he said, retreating to the minibar. “Do you want a drink?”
“Do I want a drink?” she asked, her eyes widening. This guy had some set on him. “This is my room, shouldn’t I be the one offering the hospitality? I haven’t invited you to stay… I haven’t decided if I want to.”
“You have no choice. It’s your position, right?
” he said, retrieving a shooter bottle of scotch and a couple of others in his opposite hand.
“This isn’t good enough.” Roxie assumed he was talking to himself.
He put the bottles down and retrieved a phone from his pocket.
A second later, he was talking into it. “We need drinks.” Lowering the microphone, he looked at her. “What’s your drink?”
“Lime-drop martini.”
Back to the phone again. “Vodka, Grand Marnier, sugar, limes and iced martini glasses,” he said, then paused to listen. “Yeah… No, I’ll mix it.” He hung up and put the phone in his jacket before taking it off. “What do you do, Miss Kyst?”
“How did you know the ingredients like that?” she asked. “You know everything about every drink?”
“Everyone starts at the bottom, me included. Entertainment is what I do.” That was almost funny. Licking her lips, Roxie tried and failed to hide her amusement. “That’s funny?”
“Imagining you behind a bar slinging drinks? Yeah, sorry, but it is.”
He didn’t seem offended as he walked by to hang his jacket over one of her dining chairs. “I have to be proficient in every position,” he said, removing his cufflinks.
When he angled his chin toward his shoulder to glance her way, there was no mistaking the playful glint of flirtation shining on her.
Raising a pointed forefinger, Roxie intended to be clear. “I am not one of those women. You won’t get me into bed just because you buy me a drink.”
“Or because I pay your living expenses, gift you an around the world trip, provide global exposure, and give you an allowance for anything you want?”
“Yes, even all that won’t do it,” she said. “I don’t care how much you spend. Sex wasn’t part of the deal.”
“No, because we couldn’t put that on national television… and there were men in the mix.”
“Were there?” she asked, watching him fold the cuffs of his shirt to reveal his forearms. Tanned and strong and tempting, she’d always had a thing about forearms for some peculiar reason.
Don’t go there. Divert line of thinking.
Roxie tightened the belt of her robe. “We thought Bree would be your pick.”
“Bree?”
“She was one of the other potential winners. In the final five.”
He bobbed his head. “I didn’t make the decision.”
Roxie strutted his way. “Bree was young,” she teased, sliding in a little innuendo of her own. “Nineteen, innocent, nubile.”
“Mm,” he said, his chin rising as he turned toward her.
“Corruptible… blonde… great rack.”
Observing his interest, Roxie stopped, assuming she’d whetted his appetite for Bree. Always the same. Men couldn’t resist hot and perky.
His brows flicked up. “Would you like me to arrange for you and her to have some time alone? Invite her to the hotel while we’re still in town.
You’re allowed to have people in your room, I don’t set rules like that…
Though I probably should, given you spent last night in jail.
A few rules might be exactly what you need, Miss Kyst.” Confused, she didn’t realize she was frowning until he laughed.
“Young and nubile aren’t high on my wish list. The phrase ‘been there, done that’ comes to mind. ”
“Oh yeah?” she asked, doubting his veracity.
“Yep,” he said and bowed to murmur in her hair above her ear.
“Nineteen means she can’t drink at most of my bars.
” He straightened to meet her eye. “Not much use to me…” He scanned her figure, sending a quivering chill up her spine.
“Would you like to get changed? You didn’t finish your dinner, are you still hungry? ”
Uneasy, Roxie couldn’t figure out his game. “No, I am not hungry,” she said, glaring. “I don’t like this.”
“Like what? Getting to know me?”
“Yes!”
“Why?”
Because he wasn’t what she’d thought he’d be. Yes, he projected the expected confidence and ease, but those weren’t the source of her agitation. The playfulness was fun. He teased and rose to her challenge: he matched her. She hadn’t expected that.
“I am going to get changed.” Not because he said it, but because she chose to be in more than just a robe. She pointed at him again. “Do not come anywhere near my bedroom.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, smirking.
Going to her bedroom, Roxie took the time to reevaluate her position.
At Sunset, seated a distance away from him, it was easy to make snap judgments.
When he was right there in front of her, it was harder to see him as a thing.
A “thing.” That’s what it was. Celebrities, politicians, businessmen, they didn’t feel like real people to the masses consuming them through the media’s lens.
She got dressed and combed her hair away from her face.
Lomond was a person. Not one like any she’d met, but a person nonetheless.
His world view would be skewed by his life experience, everyone’s was.
That experience wouldn’t earn him any credit.
She’d give him a chance but wouldn’t cut him a break.
If someone, anyone, was rude or being unfair, she’d tell it straight.
Regardless of his infamy, Zairn Lomond would get the same treatment.
See, all she’d needed was a little pep talk. Now she was prepped to get back out there and out-sass anything he threw her way.
Lomond was on the couch, facing the entertainment unit on the opposite wall. Her computer was closed and the dinner plate gone.
“I told the kitchen to expect feedback,” he called without turning around.
How did he know she was there?
“Feedback about what?” she asked, passing the dining table to go around the end of the couch. Their drinks were on the coffee table. Good, she could do with one, except…Why did he look so confused? “What?”
“Hmm?”
He was just looking at her. Not her face. No, her body. But it wasn’t a leer, it didn’t seem like he was checking her out. The longer she stood there, being scrutinized by him, the more Roxie felt like a science experiment gone wrong.
“Geez, take a picture why don’t you?” she said, opening her hands on her hips. “Stop looking at me like that. What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “Sorry, please, sit down.”
“Again, I remind you…” Roxie said, closing her eyes in a long blink. “This is my room.”
“A room I’m paying for.”
“I imagine it’s a business expense,” she said, putting a foot on the couch to climb onto it. Folding her legs against her torso, she rested back on the high arm. “Why were you looking at me funny?”
“I wasn’t looking at you funny,” he said, leaning forward to pick up their drinks.
Roxie took hers and drank, monitoring his every nuance as he settled in the opposite corner of the couch.
When he squinted at her pants, suddenly it made sense. “You were expecting lingerie.”
“No,” he said, maybe a little too quickly.
“Yes, you were,” she teased and sighed. “Women all over the world throw themselves at you every minute. You expected me to walk out here in something lacy or see-through. Plaid pajama sweats and a Lola Bunny racer-back just aren’t a part of your universe, are they?”
“I didn’t know the rabbit had a name,” he said, glancing down, though he wouldn’t see the cartoon character on her shirt with her legs in the way.
“Do you watch a lot of cartoons?”
“No, but if they look like that, I might start.”
“Are you lusting after Lola Bunny?”
Tilting his head, he raised a shoulder in a loose shrug. “I wouldn’t send her home early.”
“From what I know through the media, you wouldn’t send any prospective lay home early. What are your criteria exactly? Famous and flashing the fur?”
“In their defense, not many of my exes have had fur.”
That was funny and alarming. “Not many?” she asked. “So some of them did?”
“Do those yappy little dogs count?”
Roxie laughed. “I bet you’ve adopted many of those little fuzzies. Do you pay doggie support?”
“If they could take me to court for it…” he said, enjoying a mouthful of scotch.
“You can afford it, I guess,” she said. Something struck her. “I don’t even know if you have kids.”
“I don’t,” he said.
“I don’t either.”
“I know.” Her frown was question enough. “The questionnaire you filled out served a purpose. The questions weren’t random. We had strict criteria. You met them.”
“Me? I met the criteria. What were they?”
“Young, free, and single.”
“I wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend?”
“They get jealous.”
The arrogance! It was so unbelievable that she couldn’t keep the laugh from her voice. “Are you kidding me?” His superiority didn’t fade. “Your winner couldn’t have a boyfriend because they’d be jealous of you?”