The Secret Millionaire. Ryanne Corey
should they ever discover he was such an oddity—a rich cop. Besides, how would he explain to Anna how he amassed his fortune? Actually, I’m a genius. I played the stock market for a couple of months just for fun and ended up with several million dollars. Go figure.
“I’m just teasing you,” he said after an almost imperceptible pause. “It’s not my car. You’re right about cops’ salaries, we barely make enough to pay for our donuts. The Lotus…an inheritance from my father. Can we talk about something extremely pertinent to this moment? Like where the devil you’re going in such a rush?”
“You know…places to go, things to do when I get there. Well, it’s been an unforgettable experience.” She turned to face him, sticking out her hand. “Nice meeting you, Zack. You’ve been an entertaining companion.”
Entertaining? Zack could have sworn that something more went on in that basement than simple entertainment. Again, a humbling moment. “What is this? Do you have a split personality or what? Unless I miss my guess, about ten minutes ago we were lip-locked and loving it.”
Anna turned her back on him, fumbling for the Jeep’s door handle. Her face felt as if it was on fire. If nothing else, she’d learned a little lesson about the awkward consequences of giving in to one’s base desires. Sooner or later you had to face reality. “Sure. It was fun.”
“Fun?” In the past being tagged as “fun” hadn’t bothered Zack at all. Tonight, however, the innocent little word felt like a slap in the face. He reached out and took hold of Anna’s shoulders, firmly turning her to face him. “I didn’t notice you laughing hysterically. I did notice your breathing getting out of control and your hands trembling when I kissed you. Was that part fun, too?”
“Yes,” Anna said stubbornly. “When my fingers are trembling, I know I’m having fun. Fun, fun, fun.”
Zack wasn’t amused. “Why do you need to run off like this?”
“I’m late.”
“Late for what?”
“I’m late for arriving at the place where I’m going.” Wherever that was. Anna deftly twisted free of his touch, opening the car door and climbing inside. She knew she was acting like a schizophrenic, but she couldn’t seem to control herself tonight. As good old Frank would say, she was reacting instead of acting. “I’m a very punctual person.”
“That’s wonderful,” Zack snapped childishly. “Fine. It’s been real, kiddo.”
Biting down hard on her lip, she looked up at him, her lavish blue eyes briefly giving away her confusion. She knew this was the point where she should start the car and drive away, but her fingers simply weren’t cooperating. Strange. A couple of hours ago she had found comfort in the thought that he would soon disappear from her life. Now that knowledge was oddly depressing. “Well…”
Zack looked at the ground, scuffing the toe of his sneaker on the asphalt. “Don’t let me keep you.”
“I’ll be seeing you.”
At that his head snapped up, staring hard into her eyes. “No, you won’t. You don’t even know where I live, and I don’t know where you live. And obviously you’re content to leave it that way.”
Anna was silent for a long moment, though she never broke eye contact. “I think it’s better this way,” she said finally. “I’m not…I don’t usually do this kind of thing. I’m a pretty humdrum kind of person.”
“What kind of thing?” Zack demanded. “Kissing men? Are you a nun or something? Nuns don’t usually wear black leather coats.”
She smiled faintly. “Maybe I’m a trendsetting nun.”
“You’re really going,” Zack said, more to himself than to her. He’d dated his last girlfriend for six months, but it hadn’t really bothered him when they’d parted ways. After only a couple of hours, letting Anna Smith disappear from his life was surprisingly difficult. Besides, his pride was killing him. He didn’t have much experience in not making an impression on a woman. “And I can’t make you change your mind?”
“I can’t afford to change my mind,” Anna replied with a wistful smile. “I’m not very good at complications. I’m one of those weird people who like predictability. I have my life all organized and cozy, waiting to welcome me home. Nothing remarkable, but it suits me perfectly. Besides, tonight was…” Her voice trailed off. She looked down at her lap, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.
“Tonight was…?” Zack prompted.
“Perfect just the way it was.” She sighed, leaning her head back against the seat. “The rain has finally stopped. Can you smell how fresh the air is? I love it when the world is all fresh and clean like this.”
Obviously the subject had been changed. Since he truly didn’t know what else to do, Zack bent down, pressing his lips softly to her forehead. Then he stepped back, closing the Jeep’s door. “So be it. At least I tried.”
She gave him one last look, feeling the strange tug of unfamiliar emotions. Then, because she hadn’t really left herself any choice, she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.
Immediately Zack pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote her license plate number on the palm of his hand. He wasn’t through trying…not by a long shot.
Alpha males never gave up.
The motel Zack had seen earlier was managed by a middle-aged woman with a Santa Claus figure and a headful of pink foam curlers. She didn’t like being roused from her sleep, judging by the expression on her face. Zack threw her a preoccupied smile, and she started to blush and fiddle with the rick-rack collar of her pink-and-white seersucker robe. Wonderful. Now the nuclear weapon worked. Immediately he whipped out his poker face and asked if he could pay half price for only using the room half the night. He had discovered long ago that businesswomen didn’t mind being friendly—unless it cost them money. This lady was no exception: “A pretty face won’t get you any special treatment here,” she snapped, abandoning her flirtatious air.
Climbing the metal-grate stairs to his room on the second floor, Zack brooded on his unhappy existence, feeling deeply sorry for himself. A stout woman with curlers in her hair had just called him pretty. Before that, an irresistible woman had resisted him with no trouble at all. He’d kissed her and she’d kissed him back, which was probably a good thing, except for the fact that he now knew exactly what he was missing. Yes, he had Anna Smith’s license plate number, but that didn’t guarantee he’d ever see her again. The Jeep could be borrowed or rented for all he knew. He’d call in the license plate number first thing in the morning and discover just how depressed he should be. He knew that Anna wasn’t going to be easy to track down. And why?
Because he was on vacation and bad things happened to people when they were on vacation.
Though Zack had supposedly been given a nonsmoking room, it smelled heavily of cigarette smoke. He had quit smoking five years earlier, a monumental achievement for a man who had been smoking since he was sixteen. But suddenly he was itching for a cigarette. Naturally he blamed his renewed cravings on his burdensome vacation. The dripping faucet in the bathroom, the air conditioner that refused to turn off and the mattress that seemed to be made out of cement he also blamed on his vacation. It was a fine scapegoat.
He stripped off his clothes and huddled beneath the lightweight bedspread trying to get warm. After a few minutes he put his clothes back on and dove beneath the covers, trying to block out the rumbling of the air-conditioning. He didn’t feel sleepy whatsoever. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Anna. She was grinning at him over her shoulder, fluttering her extravagant lashes and looking so damned adorable. You’re cute, but you’re a little cocky.
Why had he let her go? Why hadn’t he done something?
It was rare for a woman to have this effect on Zack. Since his life was his work, he’d always made a practice of ending his relationships long before either party was