THE morning sun stabbed Lena’s eyelids, demanding she open them. But there was no way she’d ever move again. Every muscle ached. Most especially her heart. Yes, now reality intruded. The doubts so easily silenced last night screamed now. And there was that soft part of her already whispering, wishing—because he’d been wonderful, so playful and passionate and tender.
She frowned, refusing to be weak. She was in control here and this was just the one night. She couldn’t let herself think she cared for him just because he’d been nice to her in bed. She couldn’t let herself think this could become anything more. To ensure that, she knew there couldn’t be any further interaction between them. The knots in her tummy tightened as she shifted to test her body. She breathed in sharply, knowing she was going to have to force some greater effort shortly. While it had been the most amazing night of her life, there’d be no replay. He was gorgeous and generous. He was also a very successful, rich player—definitely not someone she should hang with for long. Dynamite didn’t do duration. It went boom, then was over.
‘You even chuckle in your sleep, do you know that?’
Her muscles ignored her stern thoughts and warmed at his low tease. ‘Do I?’ She frowned, trying to stop the melt. ‘Must have been a good dream.’
‘That’s what I figured.’
Just a dream—this had to be treated as lightly and as gently as that. A bubble that would float on a gentle breeze, out of the window, beyond sight. She didn’t want to burst it, so she’d have to tread carefully—but firmly all the same.
She twisted to face him. Her stomach knots headed north, causing an ache in the centre of her chest. Saying no was going to be hard enough already, but now she could see the sleepy-cum-saucy expression in his eyes. With his overnight stubble and his hair tousled—by her passionate hands—he was the epitome of the irresistible lover.
She forced herself to sit up. ‘I have to get going.’
‘It’s early.’ Deeper, sleep-rusted, his words made her bones quiver.
She steeled her muscles and slipped out of the bed, quickly covering herself with her robe despite the fleeting stiffness the movement caused. ‘I’ve got a lot to do. It’s a busy time for the team. There’s no such thing as an off-season.’
He rolled over, propped his head on his hand and managed to look even more the picture of morning-after wicked. ‘So no lazy lie-in and I’m guessing you don’t want to go to a café for breakfast or anything before work?’
‘That’s a nice idea,’ she said crisply, turning away from him so she stayed on track. ‘But it can’t happen, sorry.’
‘Can’t happen today, or any other day?’
She froze, halfway across the floor to the door. He wasn’t slow, was he? She inhaled and turned to face him. ‘Any other day. Sorry.’
He still lay reclined like a glorious bronze sculpture. ‘So that’s it? You’re giving me the boot? Going to make me do the walk of shame home?’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘Not the walk of shame.’
‘No?’ he drawled. ‘You’re not having some regrets right now?’
She blinked and then forced a smile, faking confidence in both her decision and her ability to enforce it. ‘Oh, no, I don’t regret what happened at all. It was amazing. But…’
‘But it was just the one night.’
‘That’s what we agreed,’ she reminded him carefully.
‘And even though it was incredible, you want to stick to that plan.’
She paused, trying to dilute the wave of pleasure from hearing that he’d thought it was incredible, too. ‘That’s right.’
‘Any particular reason?’
Was he disappointed? Wasn’t this the usual modus operandi for him—easy come, easy go?
‘Seth.’ She walked back to the bed and sat beside him, making the mistake of looking into his narrowed eyes. ‘Last night was like having this incredibly rich dessert. Really decadent and delightful but if you have too much…it’s not good for you. You know?’
He silently looked at her, then swiftly sat up. The sheet dropped low to his hips. She mentally screamed at herself not to look down—but her peripheral vision was feasting anyway and she could feel her flush blooming.
He grinned and slipped his hand to the back of her neck to pull her close. She didn’t resist. This was the goodbye. This was absolutely the goodbye kiss. And, hell, he knew how to do it. His lips teased hers, his tongue tormenting with the promise of that sweet, carnal seduction all over again. She leaned closer, opened deeper, the roughness of his stubble sending delicious shivers down her spine. Passion, hunger, heat grew. She slid her hands wide over his shoulders and arms, celebrating his hot skin and the hard strength beneath. Her will weakened, almost dissolving completely in his fire.
He drew back, delight shining in his eyes and smile. ‘How can too much of that not be good for you?’
She focused on regulating her breathing and restoring calm to her seriously overwrought system. ‘Some things,’ she said carefully, ‘are best just left. You know?’ This was definitely best left—for so many reasons. It had to stay as a fantasy. One that was finished.
Now both his smile and eyes widened as silently he studied her expression. She toughened up under the scrutiny—determined not to reveal her weakness. Determined to beat her weakness. He knew how to play it—he’d just tried already. So she didn’t move a muscle as he stroked down her jaw with the back of a finger.
‘You’re very strong,’ he murmured. ‘What made you so strong?’
‘Nothing very exciting.’ She stood and walked away, trying to ignore the memories that ripped the scab from her heart and scalded her with hot, acidic guilt. They killed the temptation to succumb to him again. ‘But once my mind is made up, it’s made up.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, flopping back onto the pillow, his smile sounding. ‘I can see you’ve got your game face on.’
She walked out of the bedroom before that mask slipped and revealed her true feelings. That stupid desire for more—the more that she’d never get from a guy like him. She wasn’t going to waste time and emotional energy getting involved any further with someone who’d never offer what she really wanted. She’d done that once—spectacularly trashing her own life and hurting so many others. So why would she walk into another dead-end situation with her eyes wide open? There was nothing wrong with ‘right now’ but, as their ‘now’ had passed, there was no future.
He appeared, dressed but dishevelled. Looking just like the wild night he’d had and so gorgeous she went weak-kneed. Yes, there was that other problem—like suited like and Seth belonged to a different league from her. She didn’t want to sit around waiting for the next woman to come along and outclass her.
‘You want something to eat before you go?’ She used the kitchen bench and the jug of hot coffee in her hand for defensive distance. Stopping herself from moving towards him.
That teasing smile tweaked his lips. ‘No, I can see you’re busy. I’ll let you get on.’
She nodded, relieved he was now making this easy. Of course, he was a pro at everything women-related and clearly her calling time didn’t bother him all that much. Another sign she was doing the right thing. ‘Thanks for dinner and…everything,’ she finished. So lame, she wanted to slither behind a rock somewhere.
‘My pleasure. I had an amazing time,’ he said easily.
But she heard bucketfuls of irony. She blushed—ridiculous considering everything they’d done. But he seemed so amused, and now the sunlight was streaming through the window the glare hurt her eyes. ‘You won’t say—’
‘Just between us,’ he interrupted carelessly. ‘We both know that.’
‘Great,’ she said with masses more chirp than she felt. ‘Well, thanks again.’
She saw the flash as his amusement deepened but then he turned. And that was it. He was out of the door before she got there to wave goodbye as a polite hostess ought to. She was frozen behind the bench, hot jug in hand, staring into the space he’d left behind.
Seth walked out of her house, got into his car and started driving. Out of earshot, his grin gave way to the full-body laugh he’d been holding back the last ten minutes. She wasn’t used to the one-night scene or she’d have a more polished boot-him-out routine. She’d twisted up and iced over—spoiling her attempt to pull off a relaxed, sophisticated flick-off. But it was interesting that she wanted him out, and he believed that on one level she meant it when she said she didn’t want more. But she did—he’d felt it when he’d kissed her. She’d responded so wonderfully, as she had throughout the night. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told him she wanted a good time, but she hadn’t been completely selfish. She’d delighted in touching as much as she had in taking. Only, now her hedonistic moment had passed, she was back to the woman who said no.
Usually after a night or two of fun, Seth was ready to move on himself, but he and she definitely weren’t yet done. Last night had merely been the preliminary and there’d be ten rounds in this ring. At least.
His phone beeped and he glanced at the screen. A drop of guilt slid like poison under his skin when he saw who the message was from. He was due to meet Andrew this afternoon and he’d promised he’d have a solution. He drew breath, telling himself that his selfish pleasure-seeking moment wouldn’t have messed up the charity’s chances for the following week. Lena would agree—in fact, Seth could use their tryst to his advantage, right? He could, of course, always buy their way into another sports club for the programme. If he had to he would, because he wasn’t letting Andrew and the boys down. Except he wanted to be with the Knights next week, to be at the stadium as much as possible. Because he wanted Lena Kelly to have to say yes. Again. And then again.
He pulled in to his apartment and headed straight for the shower. He’d freshen up and then go in for the fight. Under the steaming jet of water he mulled over the possibilities, formulating a strategy that would see all his problems solved—an inspirational activity for the boys and Lena back in bed with him ASAP.
She might have cheated him out of the chase before, but it was all on now.
For the first time ever Lena was late to work—only by five minutes—but given she was usually there at least an hour early it was notable. This morning she’d stood so long in the shower it wasn’t just her fingers and toes that had turned into prunes, but her face, as well. Or maybe the sour expression was because she was in an extremely bad mood—with herself.
She shouldn’t have done it. Not that it was sleeping with him that she regretted, but her wistful aftermath. She wished she could have gone to breakfast with him at a café, wished she could have showered with him, wished she could have played more with him. Wished he’d want more from her. She wished she were a different person.
Yeah, the more she truly wished for, was from herself.
But while she was trying, some things weren’t going to change, so there was no point in wishing. Instead she cleared her inbox, determined to finish even one job so she’d feel as if she’d accomplished something and was in control of her morning—and of herself. But it was an effort to keep her thoughts on task and she fiercely fought to focus. To help, she put on some music—letting the rhythmic beat be her lead. The one song on repeat became like white noise in the background, a cue for her brain to concentrate.
She finally got into the rhythm of it, her fingers typing and her head nodding in time, her emotions at ease, letting her brain work through each message. She paused, fingers above the keyboard as she framed the wording of her current email, and glanced away from the screen.
She jerked, doing a double take at the tall figure in her doorway.
Her heart leapt; she tried to suppress her gasp but all the effort did was make her breathless. ‘What are you doing here?’
She had no idea how long he’d been standing there. She had no idea why he was standing there. But her whole body reacted, her numbed nerves screamed back to life—an instant inferno of surprise, embarrassment and that uncontrollable desire.
‘Stalking you.’ His smile was too easy.
Her heart galloped like trapped wild horses who’d just found a gap in the fence. Was he here to ask her out? She was so surprised and thrilled and flustered. ‘I—I thought we agreed—’
‘Don’t worry, I was kidding,’ he interrupted, walking across to her desk and taking the seat opposite in far too relaxed a fashion. ‘There was a misunderstanding yesterday. I wasn’t here to see Dion, I came to see you.’
‘Me?’ Suspicion sharply squeezed her heart. ‘Why?’
‘We probably should have discussed this sooner, but I got…distracted.’
What should they have discussed? She swallowed, suddenly nervous. She refused to think about how he’d got distracted. She refused to think about how dazzling he looked in the tailored suit. How his slightly damp hair was rumpled, reflecting that hint of wicked playfulness she knew was a mere scratch below his surface. She refused to think about how much she wanted to touch him. Now.
He sat back in the chair, his gaze dropping to her scrupulously tidy desk. ‘I’m involved with an organisation that helps at-risk youth. Teen boys mainly, who have had a couple of brushes with the law, who have high truancy levels. Kids who need some guidance and inspiration to stick to a straighter path.’
Lena’s blood chilled as her heart shrank. She waited, knowing he was about to ask her for something and that it wasn’t going to be personal. The man had an agenda. He’d had one the whole time.
His lashes lifted and his blue eyes were cool, his voice measured. He was clearly having no trouble focusing—a little fact that stung her already oversensitive nerves.
‘Every few months we run a course,’ he said. ‘A mentoring programme.’
‘What’s this got to do with me—with the stadium?’ she amended quickly. But she already knew where this was going and she was fighting the crushing feeling.
‘We want to run the programme here—have the boys train alongside the team for a week. Let them see and understand what discipline, drive, dedication and hard work is. We have compulsory workshops in every course but we need permission to use the facilities here for it. And we need approval for our boys to attend training each day and to have the opportunity for some question-and-answer time with the team. The players are the inspiration factor for the boys. The kids need to see how hard those guys work, every day, and of course see what the rewards of extreme effort can be.’
She understood the aim immediately and knew the Silver Knights were a good example. They’d done that sort of thing before. Management encouraged the players themselves to continue with study so they had something to work towards when they finished playing professionally or if, worst case, they were injured and had their careers taken from them. They tried to help them build rounded lives and steer them through the pitfalls of temptation that fame and accolade brought. The rugby guys were driven and worked hard—hard enough to make dreams a reality. Some had come from childhoods of hardship. So, yes, most were inspirational for a lot of people. Of course some played around after hours but every single one was utterly determined and focused when it came to it—the game on the grass came first. Seth’s request made total sense and was nothing new.
But Lena was battling bone-deep disappointment and bubbling anger. He should have told her about this yesterday. Instead he’d toyed with her. He’d let her make a total fool of herself.
‘I have a presentation.’ He pulled a flash drive from his pocket and placed it on her desk. ‘Some slides and footage of the last few camps. It explains everything and only takes a few minutes to watch.’
She ignored it. ‘When did you want to run this programme?’
‘Next week.’
Her jaw dropped; she was stunned that he’d be that disorganised. ‘Leaving it to the last minute, aren’t you?’
He inclined his head and looked directly at her. ‘It was scheduled for our usual place but that’s become unavailable—fire gutted the main training room in the weekend. So I guess I’m throwing myself on your mercy.’
Mercy? Seth Walker had never needed anyone’s mercy—he’d be the one to grant it.
‘I can’t be influenced by any personal—’ she broke off, scrambling for an appropriate word ‘—connection we’ve had.’
‘Of course.’ He was totally smooth. ‘I know that you wouldn’t deny these boys this opportunity because of any awkwardness between us. Anyway, there isn’t any awkwardness, is there?’
She was the one to study the desk then because she couldn’t answer that. She wasn’t feeling awkward, she was feeling insanely disappointed that he hadn’t come to see her for her.
Of course he hadn’t. And why should she mind when she’d told him it was over? But she totally minded. She wished her body had listened as well as he had.
‘It’s a good PR opportunity for the team, to be seen giving something back to the community, right?’ he said.
‘We have many good PR opportunities,’ she answered curtly. ‘The team already spends hours on community and charitable projects. Perhaps it’s you who’s really seeking the PR op?’
‘I’m not in any of the pictures, nor is my company logo.’ He grinned. ‘I prefer to keep under the radar media wise. In fact my involvement with the programme is conditional on my lack of involvement with the publicity angle.’
Lena swallowed, knowing she was being backed into a corner.
‘I spoke with Dion and, while he’s happy for us to be at the stadium, you’re the person who needs to let us have access to the team.’ Seth’s gaze speared her; he seemed to take up all her visual space.
‘It’s not me,’ she denied. ‘All I can do is put your request to management and get back to you.’
He leaned back in his seat, looking a lot as if he were a panther and she the hapless creature on whom he was about to pounce. ‘But Dion said you were the key. If we get you onside it would basically be a done deal.’
If ‘we’ get her onside? He was the only one present—so it was if he got her ‘onside’. Was this why he’d been so ready to accept her invitation last night? Had it been a case of sweetening her up so she’d say yes to this? Oh, now she was humiliated. Anger simmered, too.
‘Nothing’s a done deal,’ she said, falling back on the icy armour she’d honed over the last eighteen months. ‘I can make you no guarantees. You’ll have to wait until I’ve reviewed the request and spoken with my superiors.’ She stood, wanting this interview to be over so she could lick away the stings in private.
‘Of course.’ He followed suit and rose from his seat.
Politeness required she see him out. She’d failed to do that in her home this morning. Now she was determined to be nothing but professional—pride dictated it. But it was in stony silence that she walked towards her door.
‘Don’t come out to the lift. I’m sure you’re very busy.’ He smiled—too intimately.
She lifted her chin. ‘It’s no problem.’
His grin flashed wider as if he didn’t believe her. ‘Lena—’ he stopped just inside her doorway ‘—just so you know, I don’t prostitute myself.’ He leaned closer, spoke in an all-out purr. ‘Not even for a good cause.’
She couldn’t move.
‘What happened last night was between us and has nothing to do with this.’ Now he bit.
‘What happened last night is finished,’ she said firmly.
‘You think?’ His lashes dropped; she could feel the sweep of his gaze down her skin as if it were the stroke of his finger. ‘Who are you trying to convince—me or you?’
Oh, he was arrogant and she had the urge to best him somehow.
‘Because, in case you hadn’t figured it out already,’ he continued softly, ‘you can ask me to dine on you again any time you like.’
Dine on her? Heat flared in her cheeks over the crudity of his comment. And the veracity: she had asked, more than once, and he’d licked every inch of her body—inside and out. Just as she’d sucked the proof of pleasure out of him. Her skin burned, not just from anger but also attraction—still that insane attraction to his physicality. And his amusement. For once more laughter sparkled in the depths of his blue eyes, inviting her to laugh with him. Except she couldn’t. She couldn’t move, speak, think….
It took her catatonic brain long enough to realise she was panting. She snapped out of it, marched back to her desk and swiped up the flash drive—to do something with her damp, shaking, desperate hands. ‘I’ll take a look and get back to you.’
‘Here’s my card.’ Remaining where he was, he held it out—so she had to walk back towards him to get it. ‘I forgot to give you my details this morning.’
She had his every detail imprinted on her body. She could still feel his weight, still see the shades of tan on his skin, the whirls of hair on his chest—the arrowing down to his fantastic masculinity. She knew every intimate detail already; she didn’t need more.
She took the card by a corner edge and quickly moved to the open door to avoid any closer contact. ‘I’ll be in touch,’ she said brusquely.
He nodded—too casually—and sent her a brilliant smile. ‘I really do appreciate your time, Lena.’
She turned her back on him and gritted her teeth to hold in the snarl of pure frustration. But she couldn’t say no to his request and he knew it. The team tried to agree to most team-access requests—especially if youth or children were involved. She had to treat this proposal as she would any other—because if their night together ever became public knowledge it would look so dodgy. In truth it looked dodgy either way.
Damn Seth for putting her in this position. He should have been honest with her in the first place. She ground her teeth harder still. Men never were honest—not until they’d got what they wanted. She tossed the flash drive onto the desk and sat down to fire off the relevant emails. Yes, she’d recommend this to management, but only because there was no reason not to and because Dion had already given permission for them to be on-site. It was off-season, the boys were only playing a couple of friendlies in the next fortnight, there was none of the cloak-and-dagger secret-training stuff that happened around finals time.
But while she’d say yes, she’d avoid the pitch completely next week. She’d catch up on the filing or something so she wouldn’t even have to see him. She swallowed her disappointment and stoked her small pocket of pride. She had no intention of having to deal with him direct ever again.