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“I don’t remember asking for anything different, Zoe,” I say, hiding a smile.
Zoe
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You’re making me talk,but you haven’t said much about yourself.”
In fact, he’s watching me as if he wants to see inside my soul. If I wasn’t so attracted to him, it might scare me, but being the subject of his attention feels delicious.
We’re on the restaurant’s terrace with only a waiter, no other patrons, or staff. He invited me to lunch after coffee, but here we are in a lunch-appropriate place, and he hasn’t asked me if I want a full meal. I think it’s because he has plans for me.
Of course, nervous as I am now, I couldn’t eat anyway.
“Maybe I’m a better listener.”
“You are?”
“Not usually, but I like your voice. In fact, I like everything I’ve seen of you so far.”
I keep my eyes trained on the cup of espresso in front of me. “You are pretty straightforward.”
“Life is short, Zoe. I don’t waste time; I’m not that kind of man. When I want something, I go after it.”
“And I am what you want.”
“Yes,” he replies, and an uneasy feeling spreads through me. It hasnothing to do with his straightforwardness but with the casual way he says it.
It doesn’t take a genius to understand that this isn’t the first time he’s after a woman he wants.
With that thought, my bubble just bursts. My dream of being Cinderella and feeling special to him has magically disappeared, and the reality behind the painting I created is not pretty.
Xander wants sex.
Somehow, for some reason, he found me attractive and decided to come after me.
To disguise how much, I feel like an idiot, I check the time on my phone. When I look back at him, I know he immediately realizes that our date is over.
“A long lunch on my yacht is out of the question, I suppose.”
I nod my head up and down. “I have to go,” I say, already reaching for my bag. “I have to go back and get my mother’s souvenirs.Besides, it’s not just lunch you have in mind.”
He doesn’t deny it, and like the needy fool that I am, I feel my heart sink.
Before I leave, he goes behind my chair and helps me up. It isn’t enough that he’s handsome and smells good; he has to be polite too.
He doesn’t pull away, and the heat of his body against my back makes me shiver. I don’t move, but I look back.
Sweet Lord Jesus, the man is such a handsome temptation. If I wasn’t so starry-eyed, hoping to find Prince Charming one day, would I have willingly accepted his invitation . . . to be his mistress? Yeah, I think that’s what men like him have.
I look into his eyes, saying goodbye in my head to the sexiestman I’ve ever met.
The problem is, I may not know anything about life, but I know myself. When it’s all over—and by that, I mean this afternoon, since I have to get back to the ship—I’m going to feel alone and rejected again.
All the love I received from my birth mother is getting further and further away in my head. And as much as my adoptive parents, my incarnate angels, helped heal many wounds, the years of being adoptedand returned to the state again and again left me with a legitimate fear of being abandoned.
I would have to be pretty crazy or stupid to just accept something like this at face value.
He lowers his head and whispers in my ear. “My gut says it would be delicious, Zoe.”
