Secrets of a Playboy

Home > Other > Secrets of a Playboy > Page 3
Secrets of a Playboy Page 3

by Janice Maynard


  His stomach turned at the thought of some idiot guy trying to take advantage of a woman like Frannie. Echoes from the past disturbed him. “If I’m honest, I don’t like the idea of you working alone at night,” he said. “It doesn’t feel safe.”

  She gave him a wry smile, then thanked the waitress when her daiquiri arrived. Frannie took a sip. “I’ve been doing this work a very long time, Zach. I can handle myself.”

  It wasn’t the moment to argue, nor was it his place. He wasn’t her brother or her father or even a lover. The fact that his company was hiring her gave him no rights at all when it came to Frances Wickersham.

  So, he changed the subject reluctantly. “Tell me about college,” he said. “Was Oxford everything you thought it would be?”

  Frannie beamed, her joy lighting up her face and turning her from attractive to flat-out beautiful. “It was, Zach. I wish you could have gone, too. The history and the sheer respect for learning. My God, you would have wallowed in it. I had to pinch myself every morning. I loved it so much, I seriously considered settling in England permanently.”

  “But...” He swallowed the hot coffee cautiously, inhaling the aroma and tasting the kick of the liqueur.

  She grimaced. “My parents would have revolted. I was already a disappointment to them, so I gave up the idea.”

  Zachary gaped at her. “You’re brilliant and academically overqualified in every way, but you were a disappointment to them? How the hell does that happen?”

  She shrugged. “They’re both doctors. I refused to go into medicine. They think what I do is little more than a childish hobby.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah.” She curled her straw through her drink.

  The burst of animation she exhibited when he asked about Oxford had faded quickly, making him wish he’d never mentioned her parents. “Do you have siblings? I’m sorry to say I don’t remember.”

  “Nope. Just me. That’s a lot of pressure for an only child.”

  “I can only imagine. So, what did you study?”

  “I did a double major in computer science and mathematics. But I also took a ton of literature electives, just because I loved it so much. Can you imagine studying The Canterbury Tales and then actually visiting Canterbury? I was drunk on learning. Those were the best four years of my life.”

  “And did you ever think about an advanced degree?”

  “I considered it. But I was ready to make my mark in the world. Does that sound arrogant?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “My first job was a government gig in London. The US government,” she clarified. “All classified stuff. When it was over, my parents were nagging me to come home. I had already figured out that private sector pay would be much better. So, I went home to Massachusetts, spent time with my parents and soon snagged a job with an enormous security firm.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “I enjoy what I do. It pays the bills.”

  “Don’t be flip,” he said. “I know you. I am you. Beating the system gives you a charge. You love hacking. It gives you a high, doesn’t it?”

  She leaned back in her seat, eyes wide. A flush of hot pink crept up her throat. “Wow. No one has ever said that to me before.”

  “Am I wrong?” He dared her to lie.

  The silence stretched between them. “No,” she said finally. “You’re not wrong. But I’m tired of talking about me. Let’s focus on Zachary Stone.”

  * * *

  Frannie felt uncomfortably exposed. No one she knew could have nailed her personality so succinctly. The fact that Zachary had shouldn’t have surprised her. He was right in one way. They shared a guilty secret. Their mental agility was both a gift and a curse. Only someone in their shoes could fully understand that.

  Hacking for Frannie was like a gateway drug. She needed bigger and harder challenges all the time to satisfy her hunger. At the moment, the spurt of professional excitement she experienced was all because someone might be targeting Stone River Outdoors.

  Zachary summoned the server. “Straight coffee this time for me,” he said. “And whatever the lady wants.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Frannie?”

  She bit her lip. “Will you judge me if I ask for nachos?”

  That beautiful, masculine smile made her breath catch. “Never. I like a woman with an appetite.”

  She blinked. Had Zachary Stone just made a suggestive comment? Surely not. He wouldn’t bother to flirt with her.

  Because she was flustered, she went on the attack. “I’ve bared my soul,” she said. “Your turn.”

  For a moment, his expression was bleak. Or maybe she imagined the flash of something in his dark-eyed gaze. “My tale isn’t as fun as yours,” he said, stirring sugar into the steaming elixir the server had dispensed from a glass pot. “I went to Penn State. Drank too much. Partied too much. Pulled myself together for the last two years and graduated with the GPA everyone expected from a genius. Did an MBA. Took the money my grandparents left me and circumnavigated the globe. Then Dad died and Quinten was hurt, and I had to make something of myself.”

  “You’ve been there for your family. I respect that.”

  “I don’t know that I’ve done a lot. Keeping the finances in order isn’t exactly rocket science.”

  “What did you want to do with your life, Zach? In high school you spent a lot of time pretending you didn’t care about anything at all. But I know that’s not true.”

  “Do you?” The sardonic comment was at odds with that same flash of disquiet in his eyes.

  “Tell me,” she said. “It’s just us. And I’m good at keeping secrets.”

  For a moment she thought she had reached him, the genuine, complicated man beneath the carefree facade. But maybe she’d pushed too hard, because he changed the subject. The tension in his frame was the equivalent of a Keep Off the Grass sign. Zachary Stone didn’t want to be dissected or analyzed.

  Fair enough.

  “I’d help you if I could,” he said. “With the forensic stuff, I mean. But computers were never my forte. I know how to turn them on, but that’s about it.”

  “Oh, please,” she said, frowning. “Don’t expect me to fall for that.”

  “So you want my help?” He grinned.

  “No. I work alone. You’re welcome to look over my shoulder once in a while. After all, you’re paying the tab.”

  “I trust you,” he said. “Though to be honest, I’m really hoping you don’t find anything. It disturbs me to think that some person or some entity wants us to fail. Or at least to struggle. If we lose market share or even go under completely, our employees are the ones who will suffer the most. My brothers and I would be okay. We have investments and savings. But SRO provides hundreds of good jobs.”

  “Maybe it’s nothing,” she said, trying to erase the worry from his eyes.

  He shook his head slowly. “I wish I could believe that.”

  The nachos arrived, and the conversation turned to lighter topics. Frannie licked a dollop of melted cheese from the corner of her mouth. “You’re lucky to be so close to your brothers and your sisters-in-law. I always wanted a sibling. My parents were too focused on their work to try for number two. Sometimes I’ve wondered if I was an accident, but I’ve always been afraid to ask.”

  “Did you ever consider doing what they wanted? Becoming a doctor?”

  “Not really. It wasn’t a rebellion thing. Medicine didn’t speak to me. If I’d had any leanings in that direction, I might have pursued them. To be honest...” She gave him a rueful smile. “I’m better alone than I am with people.”

  “You could have done research. That’s usually a solitary field.”

  She shrugged. “Boring. For me, anyway. I love what I do. A lot. My parents don’t particularly like it, but they’ve given up on trying to change me at this point.”

  “Good. Y
ou should be able to do the thing that makes you happy.” He paused, an odd look on his face. “I have an idea.”

  “Oh?”

  “You don’t want to spend the next two days stuck in a hotel room.”

  “I don’t?”

  “No. Why don’t you let me take you north? To my place on the ocean. I think you’d like it. Keep the hotel room while you’re gone if it’s simpler. We’ll cover that. But come with me, Frannie. I’d like you to see my home away from home. Please...”

  Her brain went muzzy, and her body heated from her toes all the way to her flushed cheeks. Surely she was misunderstanding him. “Are you hitting on me, Zach?”

  He blinked. Paled beneath his tan. And unless she was kidding herself, a flash of hurt swept through his gaze. “Why would you say that?”

  The question was low. Taut.

  Frannie swallowed, suddenly lost in high weeds. “Well, you do have a reputation. It’s not exactly a secret.”

  His lips firmed in a grim line, and the hand that rested on the table curled into a fist. “I don’t take women there. My getaway is for family and friends.”

  She had offended him. And maybe even hurt him. Regret curled in her stomach. “I’m sorry, Zach. I—”

  He held up a hand, halting her stumbling apology. “Never mind. Bad idea.” He signaled the waitress to bring their check. “It’s late. I’ll walk you back to your hotel.”

  She felt small and confused. Without overthinking it, she reached across the table and laid her hand over his. His fingers were warm beneath hers. “I misread the situation. I really am very sorry. It makes me feel good to know you consider us friends. If we could start over, Zach, then yes. I would very much like to see your getaway house up on the coast.”

  For several long moments, he was as still as a granite statue, his body language holding her at bay. Suddenly, he exhaled, and his shoulders relaxed. His smile was wry. “I deserved that, I guess. But I promise to be on my best behavior, I swear.”

  Frannie wasn’t known for taking chances on the opposite sex. Men had disappointed her time and again. But still she said, “I trust you, Zach. Or I wouldn’t have said yes.” She pulled back her hand, mildly disconcerted by how much she had enjoyed touching him.

  “Did you bring outdoor gear?”

  “A coat and some dressy boots.”

  “Then we’re gonna raid the store,” he said, grinning. “I’ll text Stanley to let him know we’ll be there, so he won’t call the police.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were pulling up in front of Stone River Outdoors. The window displays were classy and appealing. The SRO building sat on a prime piece of corner real estate. When they got out of the car, Frannie shivered. An icy late-night wind had kicked up, whistling through the downtown streets.

  Zachary had them inside in moments. “I’m not going to turn on the overheads,” he said. “I think we can see well enough with the security lights. Why don’t you look for pants and a top over there? Anything that would do to spend some time outdoors. I’ll grab several boxes of boots. What size are you?”

  “Nine and a half,” she said, wincing inwardly. She had never been the kind of tiny, petite woman men seemed to want.

  “Got it.”

  When Zachary disappeared to the other side of the store, she flipped through the racks of sweaters and T-shirts and joggers and leggings and everything in between. She scooped up a mulberry-colored Henley shirt and gray hiking pants in her size. When she turned around to look for a dressing room, Zachary was headed her way carrying a parka over his shoulder and three shoeboxes in his arms.

  He waved her across the store. “Might as well try stuff on. Either that or take everything in a couple of sizes.”

  “I don’t mind seeing what fits. If you don’t mind waiting.”

  The dressing rooms weren’t locked. Zachary set his load of things on the bench inside. “Take your time. I’m going to text my manager to let her know I’ve raided her stock.”

  “Okay.” Frannie waited until he exited the small space. Then she twisted the lock. Not that she thought he would intrude. But she was about to strip down to her undies, so she didn’t want to take chances.

  Quickly, she tried on everything, including the pair of boots that she liked the best. The top and pants were good. The boots seemed a little big, but once she put thick socks with them, they’d probably be fine.

  When she exited the changing room, she found Zachary loitering nearby, but at a discreet distance. “How did those work?” he asked.

  The two of them were standing in a mostly dark store. Moments ago, she’d been nearly naked. No matter how you looked at it, this was definitely an odd experience. She cleared her throat. “I like the top and pants. The shoebox on top is the pair that fits well. But I’ll need socks.”

  Zachary reached in his jacket pocket and waved a small, clear plastic package. “Already got you covered. Come on.” She trailed after him as he returned the two pairs of boots she hadn’t chosen.

  “Do you know how to operate the register?” she asked. “I have my credit card.”

  He stopped so suddenly, she nearly ran into him. When he turned around, he frowned at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is my treat.”

  “I don’t usually accept gifts from a client.”

  “Is that a rule?”

  She shook her head slowly. “No. More of a guideline.”

  Zachary grinned. “Good. ’Cause you know how I hate breaking rules.”

  Frannie couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing. “You’ve never met a rule you didn’t want to break. I swear you had detention every day for a month when we were sophomores.”

  He shrugged, looking big and masculine and gorgeous. “That was in my rebellious phase. They used to give me pages and pages of calculus problems as punishment. No one seemed to realize that I loved it.”

  “Well,” she said, deadpan, “it was a school for smart kids, not smart teachers.”

  Now Zachary was the one to laugh. “I’d forgotten how sarcastic you are. I used to love that. You were funny and snarky, and we both shared a similar sense of humor. I wonder if that’s still the same?”

  “I suppose we’ll have to find out.”

  Even in the semidark, she saw the flash of heat in his gaze. “Are you hitting on me, Frances Wickersham?”

  Her heart beat faster. “Not yet, Zach. But give me time.”

  Three

  Zachary woke up Saturday morning with a smile on his face, though he hadn’t slept much the night before. He was still incredulous that he had impulsively invited Frances Wickersham for a weekend getaway, and even more incredulous that she had accepted.

  After their clandestine shopping spree at the store, he had dropped Frannie off at her hotel and handed over the three shopping bags with her new gear. She had offered him a subdued good-night and skedaddled, as his dad used to say.

  F. Wickersham was a conundrum. She certainly wasn’t the mousy, shy girl he remembered. She was a full-grown woman. Assertive. Independent. And to his immense surprise, sexy as hell.

  He’d never been one to go for the studious academic type. He dated women with big breasts and large personalities. In his experience, those types of women knew the score. They dated rich guys for the perks, and when it was over, everyone parted company happily. Nothing wrong with that.

  To his knowledge, Zachary had never broken any woman’s heart. He was a generous boyfriend and an even more generous lover. No complaints. No dings on his record. Five-star ratings across the board.

  The fact that none of his relationships lasted longer than three or four weeks had not been a problem. He was open and honest about what he wanted. Some women appreciated that in a man.

  But he was about to embark on a “friendship” that skated into unknown territory. The all-grown-up Frannie fascinated him. As much a
s he was attracted to her kick-ass body, he was equally looking forward to matching wits with her.

  In high school, Bug had kept him on his toes. What would it be like now that she possessed considerably more confidence and what he assumed was considerably more sexual experience, as well?

  When she met his initial invitation with outright skepticism, he had understood for the first time that the playboy reputation he’d willingly cultivated might actually be a stumbling block for some women.

  He hadn’t been hitting on her. At least he didn’t think so. Everyone knew the subconscious could be a crafty bitch. Had his libido been making plans behind the scenes? He couldn’t deny that the thought of spending two entire days with Frannie on the northern coast was damned appealing.

  When he pulled up in front of the hotel, she was ready right on time, wearing her own clothes still, but this time casual. Faded jeans showcased her long, long legs and narrow waist. Yet another cashmere turtleneck, this one navy, hugged her curves.

  Zachary popped the trunk and hopped out to open Frannie’s door. She tossed her coat, the one she had worn the night before, into the back seat. The bellman put her suitcase and carry-on in the trunk. Then Zachary handed the guy a twenty, and they were off.

  “Have you had breakfast?” he asked.

  “No. I snoozed the alarm three times.”

  “Drive-through okay?”

  “As long as they have good coffee and plenty of carbs, yes.”

  Thirty minutes later, they were on the road headed north.

  Frannie sipped her hot drink with a smile on her face. “Did you bring the Porsche to impress me?”

  He shot her a sideways glance. “Is it working?”

  She sighed, snagging one of the cinnamon sugar doughnuts he had suggested. “Would it surprise you to know I could buy a couple of Porsches of my own?”

  “No. I think I always knew you would do well in your chosen career. Whatever that turned out to be. Why do you ask?”

  Her profile was pensive. “You’d be shocked how many men lose interest when they discover that my bank balance is bigger than theirs.”

 

‹ Prev