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"Well you can't spend the rest of your life alone." Her mother's tone was harsh, but it held an edge of desperation—Kimberly really was worried by the thought of her daughter living a solitary life. She'd never bothered to wonder if Annie was single by choice. "Professor Markson is a lovely man. You could do a lot worse."
What her mother actually meant, Annie thought with a stab of old resentment, was that it wasn't as if she had any other options. To Kimberly, Annie was a damaged,and fragile creature most men would bypass. "Is Caro coming?"
"Of course not." Her mother made a sound of annoyance. "We want the professor's attention on you. Much as I like her, your cousin tends to steal the limelight, even now that she's married."
Annie's headache intensified—Caro was usually the only point of sanity at these ritual humiliations. "Right."
"I'll expect you at seven for cocktails."
"I might be a little late."
"Work?"
"No." How did she say this? "I, er, arranged an in-depth tour of Yosemite." Though she didn't live far from the forest, her parents were closer to San Francisco. Even in a high-speed vehicle, it would take her over an hour to make the trip.
"Really, Annie. You knew we were having this dinner."
"I said I didn't want to be set up on any more dates." Especially when she had no intention of marrying or entering into a long-term relationship. Ever. And most certainly not when the men came in expecting someone like Caro and got Annie instead. "I'll try to be there as soon as I can, but I can't promise anything."
Her mother hung up after a few more sharp words. Rubbing her forehead, Annie walked out of the bedroom and to the bathroom, cell phone still in hand. After that call, she definitely needed the soothing properties of a bath liberally laced with mineral salts. Stripping off, she sat on the edge of the tub while it filled, taking the chance to massage some of the stiffness out of her thigh.
Does it hurt?
Such a simple question, without judgment or pity. It had undone her just a little. Not only that, but Zach had continued to flirt with her even after discovering that she was less than perfect. It might not have meant much to him, but it had meant something to her.
No, Angelica, you can't do that. Your leg's too weak.
Too often, it felt as if her mother had been born into the wrong race. She would've made a good Psy, with her analytical mind and need for perfection in all things.
The only place Kimberly had failed was with Annie.
Her mood might've dimmed again, but she was too busy daydreaming about kissing Zach on those beautiful lips of his. The man was too sinful to be real. And the way he flirted . . . wow. It would've been nice to be confident enough to flirt back. "Instead of blushing and going tongue-tied," she muttered.
She'd seen enough DarkRiver couples to identify the kind of women dominant changeling men found attractive—and Zach was definitely a dominant. Those women were all striking in some way, but it was their self-assurance that really shone through. Vividly intelligent, they didn't hesitate to speak their minds, or give back as good as they got. Feminine strength didn't scare men of Zach Quinn's ilk, it enticed them.
And that was exactly what attracted her to him. She knew after having met him only once that he'd never tell her she couldn't do something. Zach would simply expect her to match him. And that was a seduction all on its own.
The bath pinged to alert her it was full. She was about to step in when her eye fell on the cell phone she'd left on top of her discarded clothes. She grabbed it, deciding to give Caro a call. Her cousin was an expert on men, and it was advice on that subject that Annie needed right now.
Putting it within reach, she sank into the hot water with a moan. After ten minutes of just lying there soaking in the heat, she reached out to get the phone. It beeped an incoming call as her fingers brushed the case. Rolling her eyes because it was probably her mother again, she flipped it open without checking the display and answered audio only. *
"It's me," she said, dropping her head back against the wall and pressing her feet flat against the end of the bath.
"Hello, me."
Her breath stuck in her throat at the sound of that sensually amused voice. "Zach . . . Mr. Quinn—" She'd have jerked upright except that she was frozen in place.
"Zach," he corrected. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
"No, I"—water dripped as she raised a hand to push streamers of hair off her face—"I was just relaxing."
"In the bath?"
She blinked, mortified that she'd left the visual feed on by accident. But no, it was switched off. "Leopards have good ears."
Her cheeks colored. "Of course." She stayed very still, not wanting him to hear her splashing about.
"I didn't mean to intrude into your relaxation time." An apology made in a voice that was close to a purr.
