Page 24 of The CEO

“You’ve already got it, but I’ll get you a drink too.”

Poking her tongue out in response to his corny comeback, she waited until he headed to the bar before grabbing a coaster and fanning her face.

Every second she spent in Zac’s charming company confused her further, but she’d agreed to his invitation because she didn’t want to head back to her tiny cabin just yet.

Tonight was the anniversary of Jax spitting the truth at her, the night he’d dumped her in no uncertain terms. While she’d made a new life, moved to a new city, taken up new activities, she couldn’t forget the devastation and embarrassment after making such a monumental error in judgment in allowing him into her heart.

She couldn’t be alone tonight. She needed to be distracted with funny quips and compliments no matter how meaningless, a night to erase the memories of how naïve she’d once been.

“Are you okay?” Zac asked, as he placed their drinks on the table and pulled his chair closer to hers, concern creasing his brow.

Annoyed that how morose she’d been feeling must’ve shown on her face for a moment, she blinked rapidly and pointed to her contact lens. “Still not used to these darn things. Spectacles are so much easier.”

His eyes narrowed as they locked onto hers, probing yet compassionate. “I’d believe you if I hadn’t seen your expression.”

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the bar. “From over there, you looked like someone had died. Then I get back here and you’re almost crying—”

“I’m not.” She sniffed as a lone tear chose that moment to squeeze out of her eye and roll down her cheek, plopping on the back of her hand clenched in her lap.

“The hell you’re not.” He brushed a thumb under her eye, so tenderly she almost burst into tears on the spot. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”

She shook her head, mortified he’d seen her like this, frantically wracking her brain for something halfway plausible to tell him, anything other than the truth.

He placed his hand over hers, and gave an encouraging squeeze. “Tell me.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, and repeated her goldfish impersonation, her mind blank apart from the glaring truth: that it had been eighteen months since Jax dumped her and the memory still had the power to make her blubber.

“It’s a guy, isn’t it?” His mouth settled into a grim line. “What did the jerk do?”

Her gaze focussed on his, her tears rapidly drying under all that fierce, fiery blue. He almost looked possessive, protective, and she found herself wanting to tell him, a small part of her thrilled he actually seemed to care.

“Tonight’s an anniversary of sorts.” She stared down at his hand covering hers: tanned, comforting, strong. Some of that strength transferred to her as she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I loved this guy, thought he was the one. He said all the right things, did all the right things, but turned out he was only after one thing.”

She almost blurted the truth, that Jax had only been schmoozing her for what she could do for him at the museum. He’d wanted insider info on items for his private collection, but Zac couldn’t know about any of that, considering he thought she was a fitness instructor.

Not that it would matter if she told him the truth about her real job, but she’d caught him watching her conduct that aerobics class when she stepped in to save his butt, and she’d never had any guy look at her like that: with intense need, like he couldn’t look away.

She liked how it made her feel—empowered that she could make a guy like him want her—and telling him she was a museum curator now would be irrelevant anyway.

“We didn’t really click, so he dumped me.” She shrugged, hating the lance of pain still lodged deep in her heart. “He said I was just a fling, a bit of fun.”

She hiccupped, a pathetic half-sob, angry at the sting of tears, furious for being such a gullible fool. “He laughed at me for getting so involved, for being ‘old-fashioned’ in taking our relationship seriously.”

Zac cursed under his breath and turned his hand over to intertwine his fingers with hers. “You listen to me. That piece of slime didn’t deserve you. He isn’t worth anything, let alone you giving him a second thought.”

“I know.” She sighed, enjoying the secure feeling of her fingers intertwined with his way too much. Holding her hand was a fleeting, comforting gesture, something a guy like him would do. But for one, tiny moment, it made her feel beyond special, like he really cared.

“Come with me.” He leaped to his feet, practically dragging her with him.

“But what about our drinks?”

“Forget them. Let’s go.”

“Where?” She had to almost run to keep up with him, his long strides determined.

“Somewhere I should’ve taken you first rather than easing into this date with a drink.”

Her jaw hit the deck as he pushed through a heavy glass door and led her out onto the open promenade. “Date?”

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