A shiver wriggled up her spine. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t as immune by the eww! factor as she’d thought. She gathered her shoes and socks and put them on.
She wished she would have thought to grab her cell phone. She needed to talk herself down. She needed Christian to talk her down. He would convince her she’d find her one and only. He might even volunteer for the job himself—again—and then they would both laugh themselves silly when she turned him down. Again.
The thought of Christian gave her the mental fortitude to get herself off the bathroom floor and out of the handicapped stall. She washed her hands, splashed her face with cold water, and dabbed it dry with a few paper towels. Purposely, she didn’t look in the mirror. She wasn’t a pretty crier. She didn’t have to see her reflection to know her eyes were red and puffy. Her entire face would be splotchy. And she knew the tip of her nose would be fuchsia.
She tugged at the rubber band holding her ponytail and shook her head. Digging her fingers into her head, she massaged her scalp. She flipped her head over and shook her hair before standing up and yanking it all back into a tight ponytail at the base of her neck.
Working out had never let her down before. She hoped this time would be no different. She exited the bathroom and followed the sign at the main corridor toward the gym.
Wouldn’t you know it? No punching bag. Just when Frankie needed to hit something desperately, there was nothing to actually hit. She guessed she could go back up to the room and beat the ever-livin’ snot out of Xavier. He deserved it.
“Well, hello.” Frankie recognized the deep, slightly nasally voice of Bradley Matthews.
“Hi.” She climbed up on the treadmill and hit the start button. The tread moved and so did her feet.
He moved to the stationary bike, putting her in his direct line of sight and she shuddered a bit. She bought the best sports bra money could buy, but no matter how tightly it held her in place, she still jiggled. By the way he licked his lips, he’d been counting on it.
“So, why you here all alone?” He already huffed and puffed. She hoped the guy didn’t keel over because she’d seriously consider letting him die before offering mouth-to-mouth.
“I run every morning.” Okay, so not every morning, but … yeah, whatever.
His lecherous eyes ran over her body. “I like a woman who’s in shape. Maybe you and I could—”
“If you finish that statement, I’m going to have to tell Xavier.” Just like she’d hoped, the color drained from his face. She didn’t let the threat drop. “And then he would have to kick your ass for even suggesting it.”
Oh, how she wished it were true.
Another round of tears burned her eyes. She clamped them closed and increased her speed on the treadmill. Her feet pounded, as did her heart. If she showed weakness to this asshole, she’d never forgive herself. Dealing with assholes was nothing new. She’d dealt with Xavier head-to-head for the last few months and survived. For the most part.
She could do this. She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out through rounded lips. She opened her eyes and glared at Bradley. Not that he noticed with his eyeballs glued to her chest. She whistled. “Up here, Dick.”
His slow lazy gaze found her face. He smiled. “I’m Bradley.”
“I know.” She flashed a smile of her own. “If you’re going to sit there and ogle my girls, the least you could do is pretend you’re not.”
His eyes just about bugged right out of his head. Color flooded up in neck, filling his cheeks, continuing until it disappeared under his hairline. “You’re a fiery one.”
Man, she wished she had her iPod to drown out the leering.
He cleared his throat and ran a hand over his cheek. He shook his head. “What’s a girl like you doing with Matt Xavier?”
Self-doubt started in her moving feet, burning its way up her legs, clenching her stomach, squeezing her lungs, stinging her eyes. She’d wondered the exact question a thousand times. X was out of her league. Christian knew it. She knew it. Hell, even this idiot who’d had a two second conversation with her knew it.
She never should have given any part of herself to Xavier. Not that she really had. Except for her heart. Oh, crap. She’d known the train approached, building steam on a downhill advance before slamming directly into her. And she hadn’t done a thing to stop it.
“Hello?” Dick cleared his throat again.
“Are you fighting allergies?”
His brows folded in the middle. “No. Why?”
“You keep clearing your throat.” She shrugged. “Contrary to what you and your friends so desperately want to believe, I really am a doctor.”
She didn’t know why she felt the need to clarify that little tidbit. Their opinions of her didn’t matter. She winced. But they did matter, and they really shouldn’t.
Dick’s face split with a grin. “You really are a doctor?”
“Yes.” Seriously! She slowed the pace of the treadmill to be able to talk without huffing and puffing.
“Huh.” He thought about it for a second. Simple concepts seemed to be difficult for simple-minded people. “So, are you a doctor of like books or dinosaurs or—”
“I’m a medical doctor.”
“Well, shit!” He slapped his thigh. “That means you’ve gotta be really smart!”
“Most doctors are.”
“Okay, well, then. What’s a smart doctor like yourself doing with Matt?”
She reflected on the question for a split second before offering the truth to the swine. “I love him. And what the heart wants, the heart wants.”
“That is something I can understand. Believe me.” He nodded, sadness clouded his eyes, softened his features, but only for a moment before Dick returned. “I have to admit I’m a little disappointed you’re into him.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why?”
“Because, honey, you’re smokin’ hot. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. You are amazing.” He looked her over, licking his lips, and the happenings in his lap had her pulling the escape cord on the treadmill and jumping to the ground.
***
Xavier hoped he’d find Frankie in the hotel’s gym. The opened door gave him the verification he needed. She was in there, alright, and she wasn’t alone. The whirring of the treadmill and steady footfalls gave him a pretty good idea of which piece of equipment she used. He doubted Bradley Matthews could run at that pace for that long, even if he’d been set on fire.
X stood on the sidelines, much like he had his whole teenage life, listening to Bradley try to sweet talk a woman. But this time, it wasn’t just any woman. This was Frankie. His woman. He resorted to clenching his fists since he really wanted to hear how their conversation continued.
Frankie held her own as Brad gave her shit about being a doctor. She gave short simple answers when he questioned her about being smart. Xavier heard the frustration in her voice and was about to put an end to the interrogation when Bradley’s inquiry stopped Xavier’s heart.
“Okay, well, then. What’s a smart doctor like yourself doing with Matt?”
Xavier held his breath. An eternity came and went in the space of a heartbeat while he waited for Frankie to answer.
“I love him. And what the heart wants, the heart wants.”
His knees turned Jell-O and he reached out for the wall. In one step he leaned against the wall and breathed. Surely he’d misunderstood. She had to be playing the part. That was it. Had to be.
Puffs of breath entered and exited his lungs. His vision went a little wonky and he thought he might be sick. What if she wasn’t playing? What if she really had feelings for him?
As Bradley made the jump from patronizing to letch, Xavier got over himself and strode through the doors, staking his claim.
All the rest could be sorted out later.
“Hey, sweetness.”
She looked up, a panicked shadow floated across her eyes.
He strode right up to her, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in tigh
t. He smiled. “I thought I’d find you down here.”
He knew he shouldn’t, but knowing he shouldn’t do something hadn’t ever stopped before, and he’d be damned if it would now. Maybe she’d only been playing the part he’d cast her in for the weekend, but their time wasn’t over and he wasn’t finished with her. Maybe he never would be.
He bent his head and captured her surprised gasp with his lips. She stiffened, her mouth tight. Just as he was about to admit defeat and pull away, devastated, she softened against him. Her tongue teased his bottom lip. Her breasts pressed into his chest and she ground her hips into his groin. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and held her tightly against his body, hoping she’d just melt into him so he wouldn’t ever have to let her go.
“You are one lucky sonofabitch, Matt.”
Frankie tried to pull away, but Xavier wasn’t about to let that happen. He slipped his tongue out to tangle with hers, and lifted an arm to the voyeur, extending his middle finger in salute.
Xavier registered the closing of the gym doors and hoped Bradley had left instead of creating a captive audience scenario. Thoughts of pushing Frankie against the wall, of bending her over the small weight bench, of slaking the consuming need boiling through him, rushed through Xavier’s brain.
An ache accompanied his arousal. He’d never needed a woman so badly. And doubted he ever would. Frankie had ruined him for any other woman.
She eased away from him. Her eyes were sad, her gaze agonized when she looked at him. “I can’t do that again.”
“You want me.” She was killing him. “I know you want me as much as I—”
Her fingers trembled, trapping the words before they crossed his lips. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean.” She shook her head. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. She closed her eyes, sighed heavy, heartbreaking breaths. When her eyes opened, tears shimmered in the deep blue depths. “I know this is a game you’re playing. And you’re very good at it. But I don’t wanna play anymore.” She put her hand over her heart. “You’re a very dangerous man, Matthias Xavier.”
Cupping her neck in his hand, he used a thumb to rub the tear from her cheek. He leaned down to kiss the very tip of her nose. “And believe it or not, Doc, you’re a very dangerous woman.”
***
He didn’t expound, and deep down she was grateful. She didn’t need him to declare an undying love he didn’t feel just so she’d sleep with him. Because, smart as she was, she probably would have.
Xavier had become her drug of choice. She wondered how many other women were addicted to him. Hell, she could probably start a support group. And could use Rockets Field as their meeting place, there’d be so many of them.
Hello, my name is Frances Holden and I’m addicted to Matthias Xavier III.
Hi, Frances.
Xavier’s warm hand encased hers. “I thought we could go see some of those sights you wanted to see. It means spending the day with me, but I promise to be on my best behavior.” He flashed his cocky smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Please.”
She nodded slowly. He smiled, and with her hand clasped in his, he led her out of the gym, toward the elevators that would take them back to their room. She sighed, heart heavy.
Less than forty-eight hours and she could get back to her real-life. Xavier had healed enough to no longer need her. She’d turn his PT over to Jeff, and go back to being everybody’s doc. Christian would be happy to be her sponsor in her recovery. It’d be hard getting Xavier out of her system, but she was tough.
She could do it.
She would do it. She didn’t have a choice in the matter.
Xavier’s past had been an unsafe one and his future would likely continue down the same road. Despite the claims of being careful, the tests only proved he’d been lucky.
She could try and fool herself into believing she was capable of being one of the many. But she knew better than that. She needed a one-woman man. And hard as walking away from him would be, she refused to settle for anything less.
20
“So what do you want to see?” Xavier yelled toward the bathroom.
“I don’t know. Everything?”
“We only have today, so we can’t possibly see everything.” He stepped away from his laptop and walked to where he could see her inside the bathroom.
Frankie stood at the mirror, wearing jeans and a white tank top. She bent forward at the waist until her nose nearly touched her reflection before swiping black mascara on her blond lashes. She did a funny gaping mouth thing, reminding him of a fish desperately seeking water. She made a swish of the mascara stick thing then switched to the other eye. She stared at herself in the mirror, blinked a few times then twisted the lid closed on the tube.
“What are you grinning at?” She tipped her head and examined him.
“You.” He chuckled. “Your routine. It amuses me.”
A blond brow nearly hit her hairline. “My routine?”
“Yeah, your … the way you…” He waved a hand at her, hoping a stab at charades would help say what he didn’t know how to.
“The way I put on my makeup?”
Deep sigh of relief. “Yes.”
“You think it’s funny?” Her skeptical expression and the gentle shaking of her head told him she thought he’d lost his damn mind.
Maybe he had.
“The way you open your mouth and quirk your lips is amusing, yes. You probably don’t see it because you’re concentrating on not poking your eye out. Which is good. You’d hate to lose an eye and have to wear an eye patch, all because I told you your facial expressions are hilarious.”
She frowned. “Hilarious, huh?”
“Aye, matey,” he growled in his best pirate brogue.
She stared at him for a split second before bursting into giggles. Her laughter bounced off the walls in the tiled bathroom, multiplying her delight. He laughed, too. How could he not?
Listening to Frankie laugh amused him more than the damned pain meds that made everything hilarious.
Her giggles dwindled and Xavier felt the loss. The last few hours had been tough on them both. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind she’d been crying before he tracked her down in the gym. Not that he actually expected differently. Truth was, he’d felt like curling up in a ball and sobbing like a baby, too.
“So what do you want to see? And no, everything is not an option.”
She busied her hands with the task of removing all evidence of herself from the bathroom. “How can I get the most bang for my buck? Or tick for my tock?” She shook her head and laughed, not looking at him. “That sounded better in my head.”
His selective hearing inserted other words, once again triggering images in his mind of getting her naked. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled a sock over his toes, attempting for total nonchalance when he felt anything but.
She closed her eyes, seeming to collect her own thoughts. He wished he could get inside her head to know what she was thinking. Because if it paralleled his thoughts at all, he knew exactly how he wanted to spend the day.
“What are my options?” She exited the bathroom with her overnight bag in hand. “I’d like to see as much as I can.”
“Okay.” He stared at his feet, concentrated on getting his Nikes on because looking at her messed with his head. Hell, maybe he didn’t want her in his life if it meant walking around in a dazed, lust-induced fog all the time. “We could check out Fenway Park.”
She snorted. “And how many times have you been there?” He’d bent over to tie his shoes and chanced a glance up from under his lashes. She had her hand on her hip, her head cocked, a brow raised. She shook her head. “No. What else?”
He sat up, brushed his hands down his thighs. “We could tour the Sam Adams Brewery.” He didn’t particularly like that option. Any form of intoxication, no matter how minute, didn’t bode well. Not where his head was when it came to Frankie.
Her nose wrinkled. “I’m not much of
a drinker—”
“Ok.”
“—but if you want to go there, we can.” She shoved her things into her bulging suitcase. He wasn’t sure how she planned on stuffing all her crap into it for the trip home.
“I know where we’ll go.” He stood and retrieved his wallet from the dresser. He purposefully looked down at her feet. “You should probably wear your tennis shoes.”
Disappointment flashed over her features as her gaze followed his to the dainty white sandals and her bright pink toenails. “But—”
He shrugged. “It’s up to you, of course, but we’re going to do some walking and I don’t want those pretty feet to end up blistered.”
“Okay.” She sighed, disappointed, and went about the task of changing her shoes.
He crossed his arms over his chest to keep from capturing her in a hug. Her fingers shook so badly as she tried to tie the laces, she had to start over three times before the rabbit finally found his hole. He didn’t like her being nervous to spend the day with him, but couldn’t even consider offering her an out.
She stood and he smiled, unfolding his arms. “You ready?”
“Yep.” She picked a small black handbag with a really long strap and threaded it over one shoulder. The strap came to rest right between her breasts, outlining each perfect mound.
Wow!
He swallowed a groan and shifted himself around in his jeans. It was going to be a very long day.
***
She had no idea where they were headed. Xavier had been hush-hush on their destination. Which she guessed was okay. Judging by the smile on his face, he couldn’t wait to get there.
The taxi maneuvered through the streets and Frankie admired the old, history-filled buildings. She couldn’t wait to hear their stories. “This really is a beautiful city.”
“I guess.” He sat so close to the door, he practically hugged it. His enormous legs, normally relaxed were in an uncomfortable cock-eyed position.
She reached out and covered his hand where it rested on his thigh. The muscle jumped. His head whipped around, his eyes wide. He glared at her like she touched him with a lit match. And maybe she had. The dangerous flicker in his eye fired her up.
Out of Left Field Page 15
