Only nothing worked with Zoe. Not his usual lines, not his celebrity status and not even compliments. She was the one cock-blocking him from hooking up with her. It made no sense.
He wanted to pound the table in frustration. Instead he calmly replied, “I didn’t realize I had an age limit.”
She shot him a look of pure disbelief. “Did you actually talk to your last five girlfriends or whatever they were? They were all under twenty-three.”
“But over twenty-one,” he said. “And you can’t be more than twenty-five.” So, she knew about his personal life or the internet’s version of it. There was no way she was as indifferent to him as she pretended to be. Unless she’d been the one sending him anonymous hate mail. Although he doubted that very much. Zoe would most likely have it hand-delivered with her name in capital letters and a list of all the things that didn’t meet her goal, motivation and conflict guidelines.
She tilted her head to the side, a mischievous grin appearing on her face. “Are you saying twenty-five is your ceiling?”
Holy hell. He’d say whatever she wanted him to if she kept looking at him like that. Like she didn’t want to stab him again or run away screaming. Her lashes flicked and he sucked in a breath, unable to remember when a woman’s lashes held him spellbound. Hell, he couldn’t remember how old he was at the moment.
“Sure, love, twenty-five is my limit. Can’t have ‘em hovering at thirty,” he said, recovered from his momentary lapse of proper brain function.
She leaned closer and his body tensed in anticipation. Or fear. She had stabbed him. On purpose, mistaking the knife for a spoon notwithstanding. Still, she bloody meant it. Perhaps he should rethink his preoccupation with her after all.
“I hate to break it to you, stud, but I’m practically knocking on thirty’s door as we speak.” Grabbing her glass of water, she took a sip.
He blinked, then blinked again. “How bloody old are you?”
Her face turned red as the entire restaurant seemed to quiet at his shouted question. To his shock, she stood, water goblet in hand, and strode away. He sat there, until the manager came by to ask if he needed anything.
After sending the man off with a tip, Christian contemplated the small bandage on his hand, remembering the searing moment as the tip of the blade pierced his skin. The throbbing was mostly gone, but his interest in Zoe was not. Rising to his full height, he went looking for her. Again.
Chapter Five
Zoe groaned, surveying the destruction she had inadvertently caused. Potted palm trees lay prone, one on top of another like dominoes. While she’d been texting Melanie about her “date”, someone had come along and practically shoved her out of their way. Luckily, she hadn’t gotten hurt and she’d found her phone. Two for two.
A warm hand clamped down on her shoulder, making her jump. “I don’t care where in this hotel you hide. I will always be able to find you.”
They faced each other in the mirrors along the lobby, his lean form looming over her while his blond hair gleamed under the lights. Christian looked like a movie star while she, well, Zoe looked like herself.
She sighed, then turned to face him. His injured hand fell to his side.
“You embarrassed me.”
He frowned. “You embarrassed yourself when you stabbed my ass.”
“It was your hand, you big baby.”
“Look, I’m sorry for shouting at you. It took me by surprise—that’s all”
“Poor thing.” She patted his arm. “You must be scarred for life to discover that women actually age in the real world.”
Pale blue eyes drifted lazily down her body. “Like a very fine wine.”
“Did you just use the cheesiest line in history on me?”
He shot her a disgruntled look. “My original ones weren’t working.”
“Why don’t you try, oh, I don’t know, talking to me like a normal person? Ask questions about what I like to read. Or what’s on my bucket list—”
“Sleeping with the infamous Ian Romanov?” he asked with a wriggle of his brows.
“Or something as mundane as what I like to do in my free time.”
He stared at her for a moment. “Will you help me? I’ve got this PR problem and need to be seen with someone like you.”
“What do you mean someone like me?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way—”
“Never start a conversation with a woman using that phrase.”
“So noted.” Raking his hand through his hair, he gave her a crooked smile. “I need to hang out with someone who’s the exact opposite of me. Someone who’s genuine and accidentally knocks over palm trees in lobbies, because she wanted to get away from an uncouth ass**le who couldn’t keep his mouth shut or his hands to himself. Better?”
Better? More like the perfect thing to say. “It’s a start, but why exactly do you need me?”
“Hey you,” a man shouted.
Christian looked over her head, his eyes widening. “What the hell?”
Turning, she followed his line of vision. An Oasis employee trotted over, wiping at his mouth. There were sweat marks under his arms and across his ample belly. Stopping in front of them, he tugged his pants up by the waistband.
“Are you stupid? The sign says don’t touch the plants and that includes trees. I saw you leaning all over them on the monitor.”
“I wasn’t leaning on them. Someone shoved me from behind, and I fell.”
A fat hand patted down a three-haired comb-over and his beady eyes narrowed in on Zoe. “You need to leave before I call the cops.”
“Why in the world would you call the cops over trees? It’s not like I was trying to smuggle them out of the lobby. Do you really think I can defy the laws of physics to fit one of those in here?” She waved her purse in the guy’s face.
Christian coughed. She turned to ask if he was okay, but he waved her off.
“No, I was gonna call the cops because you’re obviously doing business in here.” He smirked. “Although I could be persuaded to look the other way with a freebie.”
“Why you...you,” she sputtered. Christian stepped in front of her, but she pushed him aside. “I can handle this.”
A slow smile appeared as he appraised her. “Go for it, wildcat.”
She turned back to the odious man. “I don’t think your boss would very happy to know you were being so ugly to guests.”