Power Play

by Anna DePalo

  Jordan grinned. “It must have been some kiss.”

  “You don’t remember it!”

  “But you do.”

  Sera felt herself heat. “Only because you’ve become famous.”

  He frowned. “I would have remembered an unusual name like yours.”

  “I didn’t give you my name, and anyway, you probably would have thought I meant S-A-R-A-H.” It was a common mistake that she was used to.

  “So you like to operate anonymously?” he said, enjoying himself.

  “I’d just turned twenty-one.” I was young and stupid.

  Jordan rubbed his chin. “Let’s see, eight years ago...college break. Destin, Florida?”

  “Right,” she responded tightly. “Hundreds of students clogging the beach. Beer flowing. Dancing. You angled in...”

  They’d locked gazes while she’d danced, and the sexual attraction had sizzled. In swim trunks and with all his smooth, tanned muscles, he’d been an Adonis. And she’d never felt sexier than when he’d looked her over in her aqua bikini, appreciation stamped on his face, and had started dancing with her.

  She’d known he wanted to kiss her and had met him halfway when he’d bent, searching her eyes, waiting for her cue. Once Jordan had started kissing her, however, they’d been egged on by the crowd. In minutes, they’d been plastered together, arms around each other, making out to an audience.

  “Why didn’t you say anything when we met again at Marisa’s fund-raiser a couple of years ago?”

  “Please, I know your type.”

  “Of course.”

  She tossed her head, ponytail swinging. “It wasn’t important, except for the fact that spring break experience backed up my impression of your reputation since then.”

  “Naturally.”

  Her brows drew together again. “Are you humoring me?”

  “I’m still processing your bombshell. Our lips have touched.”

  “Another reason I didn’t mention it. We’re in-laws. It would make things awkward.”

  “Or interesting. I’ve thought that family gatherings could use some spicing up.” His lips quirked. “So I knew you in your wilder, younger days, Perini?”

  Her naive days—when she was like Danica.

  “What went wrong?”

  She folded her arms.

  “So let me get this straight. Your grudge against me is that I don’t remember kissing you?”

  “When it was over, you turned away and laughed for the benefit of your friends.” As if nothing had happened. As if she didn’t matter. Her heart had plummeted. She’d crashed to earth—sort of embarrassed and humiliated. “And then you merged into the crowd.”

  Her ego had taken a hit back then—only to be run over by Neil a few years later. She had to face it—she sucked at dealing with men.

  “Hey—”

  “My job here is done,” she said, cutting him off and checking her watch.

  This time, she was the one to walk away—fading quickly into the crowd. But all the while, she was aware of Jordan’s gaze on her back...

  Five

  Sera gritted her teeth as she made her way to her car in the dark parking lot. It was an older-model domestic sedan that she’d bought used after dealing with a slippery salesman. Slick men—the world was full of them!

  She should never have done Angus a favor by coming in to waitress. Her blood still thrummed through her veins from clashing with Jordan Serenghetti. Or rather, she’d clashed while he’d looked underwhelmed—blowing her off as if he were amused by the whole scenario. Typical.

  She fumed. She had a bad experience that she’d been nursing as a secret for years. And when her big moment had finally arrived and she’d let loose, Jordan’s response had been mild. What was the big deal?

  It all reminded her of...oh, yeah, her confrontation with Neil about his cheating. Or rather his using her, unwittingly, as the other woman in an affair. Even confronted with the incontrovertible truth, he’d been full of justifications and excuses. You’re special. I meant to tell you. And her favorite: It’s not what you think.

  Serafina still burned every time she remembered how she’d been taken in by Neil’s lies. She’d told Marisa and Dante the cursory details. In fact, she probably shouldn’t have divulged anything at all and simply said the relationship had ended. In the aftermath of that debacle, she hadn’t wanted anyone to think she still needed protecting and couldn’t be trusted to exercise good judgment.

  She’d told herself that any woman could have been duped by Neil. He oozed charisma and charm. Just like Jordan Serenghetti.

  Oh, Neil had lacked fame, but notoriety would have interfered with his twisted schemes anyway. The press would have made it much harder for him to hide the fact that he had a wife and kid tucked away in Boston. The rat.

  Do you really know a person if you see only one side of him? Sera had had plenty of time to contemplate that question since breaking up with Neil.

  She got behind the wheel and pulled out of the lot for the drive home. She lived in a two-bedroom condo on the opposite side of town that she’d inherited from Marisa. When her cousin had gotten married and moved out, Sera had jumped at the chance to buy the apartment for a very reasonable price. Fortunately, because traffic was light and she knew the route well, she could drive practically on autopilot.

  As she started on the main road, Sera replayed the evening. The only reason she’d agreed to help Angus was that she had a whole four consecutive days off from her physical-therapy position. What was one Saturday night helping out a friend and former boss? Plus, she was paying off student loans, so she could use the extra wages and tips from a night moonlighting as a waitress, an aproned superhero saving innocent young women who were easy prey for—

  Sera snorted. She should have known it wouldn’t be a simple favor. Of course Jordan would be there. Saying things she hadn’t expected him to say. Looking almost...normal...relatable. She couldn’t afford mixed feelings where he was concerned. Danica isn’t my type. It made her wonder who was—and that was the problem.

  Sera flexed her fingers on the steering wheel. The last thing she needed was to be mooning over Jordan Serenghetti. She didn’t need to be wondering—mulling—what was on his mind.

  Suddenly, she spotted a flurry of movement from the corner of her eye. In an instant, a bear appeared directly in front of her car. Sera sucked in a breath and then jerked hard on the steering wheel to avoid hitting it.

  Then everything happened in a blur. Sera bounced around in her seat as the car went off the road in the darkness. She heard and felt tree branches hit the windshield and the car doors. Fear took over, and she hit the brakes hard.

  An eternity later—or maybe it was just a couple of seconds—the car jerked to a stop, and the engine cut out.

  Sera sat frozen with shock. What...? It had all happened so fast...

  She threw the emergency break and then blinked at the debris marring her front window. Taking a shaky breath, she leaned her head against the steering wheel. Tremors coursed up her arms from her grip on the wheel.

  Great, just great.

  At least she hadn’t hit the bear.

  Could this night get any worse? She wanted to cry but instead gave herself a scolding. After several moments, still shaken, she raised her head and stared into the darkness. It wasn’t safe to be a lone woman stranded by the side of the road at night. On top of it, she didn’t know where that bear was, but with any luck, she’d managed to frighten him off with their near miss.

  Of course, she could use her cell phone to call for help. Dante or another relative would come if she called. Still, she hated being poor, helpless Sera again in the eyes of her family—which was how they would see it.

  Suddenly, headlights appeared in her rearview mirror. Sera shook off the touch of fear. It was just someone driving by. Some
one who would most likely simply keep on going—because she didn’t even have her hazard lights on. Statistically speaking, it was unlikely to be an ax murderer.

  But the car slowed down as it passed. Then, a few yards down the road, the driver pulled over.

  When the person behind the wheel got out, she immediately recognized Jordan Serenghetti even with only the dim illumination of his flashlight.

  Sera suppressed a groan. Not an ax murderer, but someone even more improbable. Jordan. Though she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised, since he’d been at the Puck & Shoot, too, and the bar was minutes away.

  Unsteadily, she got out of the car, determined to put on a brave front. His appearance just added to her turbulent emotions.

  Jordan’s face was pulled into an uncharacteristic frown as he approached, looking from her to her car and back again. He even looked attractive with a scowl.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, for once not displaying his trademark devil-may-care expression.

  “Isn’t that my line?” How many times had she asked him the same thing during a physical-therapy session? She raised her chin, but with horror, she realized there had been a slight tremor in her voice. Not all right. Damn it. She cleared her throat.

  He came close, and she’d never seen him appear more serious.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Checking you for obvious signs of injury. Relax. I’ll take it as a good sign that you were able to get out of the car under your own power.”

  His gaze searched hers in the dim light. “Despite what you think of me, I like to give a hand when I see someone in trouble.”

  She blinked. “Oh.”

  “Anything hurt?”

  “No.” And then she blurted, “What are you doing here?”

  Jordan managed to look aggrieved—another new expression for him. “I decided to leave right after you did.”

  “The fun was gone?” Impossibly, she was challenging him, even though she’d just been in an accident—maybe because she’d just been in an accident. She didn’t like feeling vulnerable.

  “You could say that, but I guess it was good timing—” he gave her a significant look “—because I happened by right after your accident.”

  “I would have been perfectly fine without your help.” No way was Jordan Serenghetti her knight in shining armor.

  “Well, judging by your mouth, you’re not hurt. And I figure you’re going to deny being shaken up. So what happened?”

  It irked that he could tell she was rattled. “I swerved to avoid a bear in the road.” She grimaced and scanned the woods around them. “In fact, I hope it’s not hanging around.”

  “It’s unlikely to view you as a threat.” His lips quirked. “I, on the other hand...”

  She flushed. Considering she’d just tried to stage a takedown of his womanizing ways back at the bar, she could hardly argue. Next, she expected a critique of her driving skills, but surprisingly it didn’t come.

  Instead, Jordan examined her car, training his flashlight on the front.

  She bit back a gasp as the badly dented front fender was illuminated. And the headlight had been taken out. Her car was a piece of junk, but now she’d have to add automotive repair costs to her budget.

  Jordan tucked the flashlight under his arm and pulled out his cell phone.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Being practical,” he responded mildly, walking a few steps away. “I’m getting highway patrol out here.”

  “You’re calling the police?” she said.

  His gaze met hers. “So you don’t have to. Your insurance may require a police report.”

  Sera wrapped her arms around herself. The night was warm, but she suddenly felt chilled. She could fume at his take-charge attitude—or grudgingly accept his help, despite what had just happened between them at the Puck & Shoot.

  Within minutes, as Jordan continued his inspection of her car, the police showed up. Sera could only conclude there must have been a highway-patrol car in the vicinity.

  When the patrolman got out of his car and approached, he paused a moment, and then obviously recognizing Jordan, his expression relaxed. “Hey, you’re Jordan Serenghetti.”

  “Yup.”

  “Got into a little fender bender tonight?”

  “Not me, her.”

  Sera watched as the police officer’s gaze came to rest on her. She gave a jaunty little wave that belied her emotions. So this was what it felt like to play second fiddle to Jordan’s star power.

  “What happened?” the officer asked, his gaze now on her.

  “I swerved to avoid a bear that appeared on the road.” She gestured at her car. “And, well, you can figure out the rest.”

  The officer rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh-huh.”

  “She may need paperwork for insurance purposes,” Jordan put in.

  “Right.”

  The police officer put up flares while Jordan summoned a tow truck.

  When the officer got back to her, she had her driver’s license and insurance information ready as another patrol car pulled up.

  Again the officer—another middle-aged blond guy—did a double take when he saw Jordan.

  The first officer patted his colleague on the shoulder as he went by to his car to fill out the necessary paperwork, and Jordan chatted casually with the new arrival, who obviously couldn’t believe his luck at running into a sports celebrity during his shift.

  Sera was miserable. The night had gone from bad to worse. She should be slipping between bedcovers right now in soft, worn pajamas. Instead, she was in the middle of a Jordan Serenghetti fan moment.

  When the tow truck arrived, the driver slowed his steps as he approached Jordan, and Sera resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

  “You’re—”

  “Jordan Serenghetti,” Sera supplied. “Yes, we know.”

  Jordan’s lips twitched. “Don’t mind her, she’s testy.” He shrugged. “You know, accident and all.”

  The tow truck driver’s gaze skimmed over both of them. “Well, at least no one was hurt.”

  Yet. Yes, she was irritable. Sera waved her hand at Jordan. “He is.”

  The driver and the police officer still standing nearby both raised their brows.

  “Knee surgery,” Sera supplied laconically. “I’m sure you two gentlemen have heard about it in the sports news.”

  Before either man could say anything, Jordan added, “Yeah, and my physical therapist is a badass. I go to bed aching.”

  The men chuckled, and Sera narrowed her eyes. What had she been thinking about no one being hurt yet?

  Unfortunately for her, it took another half hour for her car to be towed and the police to be done.

  As both officers headed to their cars after the tow truck departed, Jordan turned to her. “I’ll drive you.”

  “Please. The last thing the two of us need is to be in the same moving vehicle together.” The police had clearly thought she had a ride with Jordan, though—one they no doubt would have loved to take themselves as his fans. Sera gritted her teeth. “I can use the ride-hailing app on my phone to get a car to pick me up. My apartment is on the other side of town.”

  “Yeah, you moved into Marisa’s old place,” Jordan said, ignoring the first part of her reply.

  “So you know just how far it is.” Sera supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that he knew where she lived.

  He tossed her a sidelong look. “Great, my place is closer. Let’s go.”

  Wait—what? Had he not heard what she’d said? She was not going to Jordan’s place.

  As if reading her thoughts, he added, “You’re shaken up, and I’m not leaving you alone to be picked up in the dark by a driver you don’t even know.”

  “As opposed to you? Because you’re the
safer bet? And anyway, chivalry is dead.”

  “So angelic and yet so cynical,” Jordan murmured.

  “With good reason!”

  “I’ll get you a car from my place once I’m convinced you’re all right.”

  * * *

  It was hard to be mad at someone when you owed them a favor.

  And the last person she wanted to be indebted to for help was Jordan Serenghetti.

  Somehow, she was going to live down tonight’s debacle. Somehow, she was going to get through weeks of physical therapy with Jordan. Her mind ping-ponged, hit by a gamut of emotions as she stepped into Jordan’s apartment.

  His place had the ambience of an athlete...a jock...a celebrity...a sports star living there. But shockingly, Sera couldn’t sniff playboy in the air as she paused next to the elevator that had just deposited them in his penthouse. Everything was modern, pristine and orderly. White walls, chocolate upholstery and stainless-steel appliances. It was far from the messy fraternity house existence that she’d been expecting.

  And then, because Jordan was watching her as they stood just inside his apartment, she said, “So this is how the other half lives.”

  “It’s not that fancy.”

  Her gaze drifted toward the back of his apartment. “Your Viking range alone must have cost thousands of dollars. And I’m guessing you don’t even really cook.”

  “No, but my mother does. So she has expectations.”

  The apartment was dim and quiet...and Jordan was standing too close. So much so that she picked up on the scent that she had started to identify as uniquely his.

  As a result of their physical-therapy sessions, she was well-acquainted with the reasons why some women found him attractive. He was all toned and sculpted muscle—with a lean, hard jaw and wicked glint in his green eyes. Even injured, he exuded a powerful magnetism. This close, she had to lift her head to make eye contact, making her even more aware of just how male he was. Now that he was out of his milieu—a sports bar—she could momentarily forget why she didn’t like him. Almost.

  They stared at each other in the dim light.

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Lost for words?”