Question Mark (8 page)

Jenny filled him in on a few more details from her meetings before winding down. Hearing the depression in his voice she said, “Give him something to remember you by, Zane. Make sure that when you walk away, he has a reason to follow. Know what I’m saying? You’re  a great, gorgeous guy. His response to this will clue you in on the type of person he is as well. If it’s any help, I’m rooting for you.”

***

The noise started out as a gentle tapping that squeezed its way into Mark’s dream.
Tap, tap, tap.
He readjusted his head, pushing further into the pillow.
Tappity tap
. More insistent now. He groaned and pulled the blankets up over his head and fought his hardest to stay in that dreamlike state before certain wakefulness. It had to be a bird. Did woodpeckers have habitats in Tahiti?
Tap, tap, tap
. It grew into a full-fledged knock and Mark lifted his head groggily. Not a bird.

Who in the hell? He wondered. Had he forgotten he signed up for some bullcrap sunrise yoga and Pilates thing? He didn’t
do
yoga. There was no way he’d sign up for that. Breakfast in bed? Newspaper? Did Tahiti even have newspapers?

The knock sounded again, really meaning business now, and when he heard his name being called, he managed to wrestle his way out of the blankets to a wobbly stance at the end of the bed. He stared hard at the door like it would swing open from the weight of his bleary-eyed glare.

“Mark?” The voice was muffled, but he would be able to recognize it anywhere now.

“One sec,” he called out hoarsely. First thing in the morning he always sounded like he was doing a lousy James Earl Jones impression. Mark looked down at himself and realized that the boxer briefs wouldn’t do, so he hopped back and forth getting his legs into his shorts, his coordination shot. He should maybe reconsider the yoga thing.

Shuffling to the door, he swung it open wishing he had time to brush his teeth. About to apologize, his words stopped short in his throat at the sight of Zane standing on his doorstep.

The man was in designer jeans and a black t-shirt, his sunglasses blocking his eyes but not his grim expression. He was
still
perfectly, awesomely attractive. That expression, though, it had Mark uneasy—and then he noticed Zane’s bags sitting behind him.

“You’re leaving?” he blurted, stupidly hurt. The year’s worth of snark that had built in him during his futile attempt to get Rafe, came roaring to the surface just when he thought he’d gotten over that bitchy shit.

Zane pulled off his sunglasses, his eyes filled with regret. “I really wish I didn’t have to, but I got a call after I got back last night and there’s a hitch in this project I’ve been wanting to do for years. I need to go and take care of it.”

Mark leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb and braced his opposite arm on the door. “What about your vacation?”
What about me?
He sighed inwardly at the pathetic question that sprang to his mind unsolicited. They’d had
one
date. Zane owed him nothing. But…

“I’m not going to check out of my room so that if I can make it back there’s no problem. This job,” he waved his hand around, “is getting out of control in L.A. and unfortunately, the vacation comes second on this one.”

Mark nodded and let go of the door to run his hand through his hair, knowing he must look like shit. Sappy shit at that. The thought that he wished Zane had woken him up the night before once he’d heard this news flipped around in his brain.

This is dumb, he thought. Really dumb. There was no reason to feel attached to this man, no matter that he was the best first date Mark ever had. Because that was just it: Zane was a
first
date. There’d be more dates in his future with other guys…probably. He hoped. And who was he trying to kid? Zane could have anyone he wanted, male or female. How could Mark measure up to all those people out there pawing for the man’s attention? He told this to himself over again and sighed when he knew it was going to take more than that to convince him. Why couldn’t Mark keep things
simple
?

“Mark.”

Zane’s voice was softly intense, an attention grabbing combination, and Mark’s eyes shot to his.

“I have zero interest in screwing around, here.”

Mark blinked, surprised at the harshness of what he heard. He guessed he knew where he stood and it was a shocker after thinking their date went so well last night. Before he could say something equally cutting back, Zane started in again.

“My work makes it hard to trust a lot of people, so I don’t. Dating is more risky than it’s worth most of the time, as my last few relationships have proven, and I refuse to get caught up in a game of my making or anyone else’s.”

Mark smirked and turned to head back into the living area of his bungalow, fighting a surge of bile. He didn’t do anything yesterday that was remotely in the realm of game playing—and if anyone knew how to play games it was old Mark, the one who specialized in fucking with people simply because he could. Zane could go screw himself if he thought Mark would stand around and listen to a bullshit lecture he didn’t deserve.

He made it less than two steps into the room before a warm hand grasped his wrist and swung him back with enough force to nearly slam his chest against Zane’s.

“Listen to me,” Zane ground out, his face piercing in its intensity.
I’m listening
, Mark thought, dazed.

“Last night was…amazing. If I had the luxury of staying with you the rest of the time you’re here, I would do it in a second—as long as you’d let me. I want to see you again. I want to talk to you while I’m gone. And I want you to want the same things. No games.”

Somewhere in the middle of that little speech, Mark’s heart commenced to pounding and his breathing pumped up until his chest managed to close the remaining distance between him and Zane with each inhale.

That was so not what I thought was going to happen…

“We’re both adults and like I said, I’m not interested in screwing around. I’m choosing to trust you, Mark. If you don’t want anything more, I’ll leave right now and you won’t have to worry about me bothering you ever again.”

Was he insane?

Mark looked back and forth between Zane’s eyes, seeing the subtle flecks of color in the blue. If he thought that just being on a date with the man was surreal, then hearing these words pouring out of him, and being this close to him was nearly impossible to soak in. Funny, he always thought it would be awesome to have a man say exactly what he was thinking and just be honest about whether or not he wanted to pursue a
relationship
—not only sex, but a relationship. Having Zane do it swept Mark’s legs out from under him. He hadn’t thought there was a man out there capable of it.

Wrong again.

His brain was in negotiations with his tongue about the possibility of speaking, so when the flare in Zane’s eyes began to die the longer Mark was silent, he forced the jumbled words out.

“No games,” Mark blurted. “I want more.”

The fierceness of Zane’s gaze sucked the breath from Mark’s chest and it reminded him of those gut-clenching moments he’d seen in the man’s films. Except he
knew
this was no act. That toughness mingled with sincerity and Mark was experiencing it first hand.

“Good fucking answer,” Zane hissed, and lowered his mouth in a rush.

With his brain ceasing all normal thought, Mark could do nothing more than clench his hands around Zane’s tight biceps and let himself get good and kissed. Zane was thorough, demanding, and…brief. Before Mark was able to really kiss him back, the other man was releasing him and dropping his sunglasses back over his eyes. A delicate flush rode high on his cheeks as those perfect lips closed in a line.

It was so hot that Mark thought he could orgasm with little to no effort, except that the moment was over and Zane appeared to be on his way out.

“Wait—”

Zane knelt down next to his bags outside and glanced briefly at him over his shoulder, his lips twitching like he wanted to smile. Mark watched as he unzipped a pocket and dug around until he found what he wanted. It was a heavy-weight business card with the letters ZAW inscribed on the front along with a single number.

“This has my personal cell number on it. I also wrote my private home number, my manager’s number, and my publicist’s number on the back in case you need to get a hold of me and can’t.”

Mark stared, bemused, but accepted the card.
Zane Whitlow’s phone number
. He had Z-dub’s digits! He fought the urge to dance.

“My flight gets in tonight around seven or so and then I have to go to this cocktail party for the suits at the production company. I’m hoping that will be all I have to do before I can get back here, but I’ll let you know either way.”

Mark looked up from the card and frowned. “How will you let me know?”

Zane’s brows rose above his glasses and he smiled. “See, I was hoping you’d return the favor and give me your number too.”

“Hmm.” Mark tried to look unsure. “My agent and publicist are really busy. They’ll be pissed if they knew I gave out their number to some actor. I mean, police dispatching is a crazy profession; you never know what kind of weirdos you’re going to run into…”

Zane’s pursed his lips. “Smart ass. Do you want me to call the hotel instead and have them put me through to your room?”

Mark chuckled and walked back inside to an end table that was sporting a notepad and pen. He scrawled a quick message on the page and wrote his cell and home numbers. Folding it up, he crossed back to Zane and held it out.

“I’ll keep my phone with me unless I’m underwater. I’m not all that good at talking around a snorkel.”

Mark stepped onto the walkway that lead to their bungalows and looked both ways. “It’ll be a quiet ride for you on the shuttle.”

Zane hefted his bags and got up close to Rafe, throwing him off balance with his nearness. Mark’s lips were practically on fire for another kiss.

“No distractions that keep me from thinking about the next time I get to see you,” the taller man murmured. He looked at his watch and growled. “I’m sorry, but I really have to get going.

“Safe travels?”

Zane gave a nod after a lingering look at Mark’s lips and began walking away toward the main resort buildings. “See you soon, Mark Newland,” he called out over his shoulder.

“Soon,” Mark answered, his voice a whisper.

***

Zane’s hands and body were shaking so badly by the time he made it to the shuttle launch that he practically fell into a seat.

That kiss!
Holy hell
.

He’d taken Jenny’s advice to heart. If Mark didn’t remember
that
while they were apart, he didn’t know what else he could have done…well…what else he could’ve done without missing his flight. Zane knew without a doubt that
he
wouldn’t be able to get it out of his own mind any time soon.

CHAPTER SIX

By the time his plane landed, Zane was ready to crawl over the other folks in first class to get to some fresh air. The lady next to him was swimming in the scent of patchouli and his beleaguered sinuses were crying for relief. Too many smells in one tin can.

He rolled up the newspaper he’d been trying unsuccessfully to read and flicked a glance out the small plane window. It was raining hard and the lights from the terminal and baggage trucks reflected in the puddles dotting across the tarmac.

God, he didn’t want to be back in L.A. with the rain and the effing people. At least with the way his schedule was so liquid the paparazzi weren’t likely to be waiting outside the terminal to flash shots of him dragging his luggage off the turnstile with their telephoto lenses. And bless Jenny for setting up a driver.

His mood was south of cranky and making a home in crappy. He’d have to swallow all of it because this cocktail party was huge if he really wanted this movie. Which he did. The producers wanted to hear his interest? They’d hear it. Then he hoped he could skip town again and get back to Mark.

Man, that kiss. His lips still burned from the pressure of the contact and the heat in it. For such an abbreviated meeting of mouth and tongue, he was truly thrown. Zane couldn’t get Mark out of his mind—an incredibly frustrating fact—and he was uncomfortable with how exposed it made him feel. Being blunt with what he wanted was actually quite difficult, and he’d never been so forthright with guys he’d dated in the past. It was probably a big part of why those relationships hadn’t worked. Zane had been right not to trust those men. If only he’d realized that
before
he let them emotionally wreck him.

Now, with his wants out on the table, he wasn’t anywhere near Mark to take action. He had to rely on phone calls and wishes that they’d see one another again soon. The image of that guy, Christian, popped into his mind and he hissed under his breath. That little cocksucker. He had Mark all to himself. The thought had Zane practically levitating out of his seat.