Simone felt her heartbeat quicken, and took deep breaths of the warm summer air to try and calm herself. She couldn’t deny there was some kind of chemistry between her and Brad, but he needed to concentrate on the match, not on her.
She mouthed the word, “Concentrate” to him.
* * *
Brad saw Simone silently tell him to concentrate so he tried to bring his thoughts back to the match he was about to play. It was difficult. Simone was a damn fine-looking woman, and when he saw her, he had a longing for her that came from his bear nature, which was difficult to ignore. It gave him a hollow feeling in his gut, but at least that was better than the pain he had experienced at his hotel room.
He felt like he was walking a knife-edge between the human and the bear inside him. Both parts wanted Simone, but the human part told itself that it only wanted her for a little while, to have some fun. The bear part wanted her for something entirely different. It wanted a mate, a lifelong commitment.
Brad wasn’t ready for that, and so far he had managed to keep the bear locked away. The problem was, the more he saw Simone, the more insistent the bear became.
He had heard tales of The Call, when a bear shifter recognized his mate and became overwhelmed with the need to make The Claim.
Luckily for him, his bear nature was still buried deeply enough that, although it recognized that Simone was his mate, Brad hadn’t actually felt The Call. That meant he could go on living his life the way he wanted, without worrying about going rogue because he had ignored The Call. You can’t ignore what you don’t feel.
Working with Simone, being close to her, increased the danger of feeling The Call at some point. He didn’t want that, but if he refused to work with her, the bear part of him wasn’t going to let him play tennis. It was going to make him ill.
So he was stuck in a tricky situation. Part of him wanted to stay away from Simone because she threatened his current lifestyle, while the other part of him wanted to change his life completely by settling down with her.
And here he was, about to play in the first round at Wimbledon, and all he could think about was the woman sitting in the crowd who had just told him to concentrate.
He really was fucked.
He looked over at Salvador. His opponent looked calm and ready to win, but Brad knew that could be all a mind game. Salvador was probably just as nervous as Brad was.
The umpire announced that the match was about to begin.
Brad sighed and got to his feet.
He dared not lose.
4
Simone watched nervously as Brad fought to win the first set. His movements were quick and flowing. He played shots instinctively most of the time, but every now and then he played shots that were too flashy. They looked good, and made the crowd gasp, but they weren’t the best shots to play under the circumstances, usually losing Brad a point because he hit the ball out of the court or left himself in a bad position when Salvador returned the shot.
When Brad finally won the first set by six games to four, he pumped his fist into the air and stalked back to his seat.
Watching him move so fluidly, so animal-like, Simone wondered what he would be like in bed. She was sure he would be like no lover she’d ever had before.
You’re getting ahead of yourself, girl.
She was, and she knew it, but she couldn’t help it if her mind fixated on fantasy images of herself and Brad. He was a sexy guy, and the only man she had ever met whose mere presence made her pulse quicken.
He obviously had some psychological issue that made him need to prove something to the world, and that was affecting his career, but even that flaw made him seem more attractive to Simone. She knew there were many layers to Brad, and she would like to discover them all.
What was that about getting ahead of yourself?
Tony turned to her and said, “You see, Miss Jackson, Brad is doing just fine without your help. He’s going to win this match in straight sets. No problem at all.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure just yet,” she replied. “If he keeps making mistakes because he’s showboating to the crowd and the cameras, he’s going to have a fight on his hands.”
Tony laughed. “I told you, that’s his style.”
“You think so, huh?”
The coach nodded. “Yes, I do think so.”
“You also thought I was a prostitute when I arrived here earlier. You were wrong about that, and you’re wrong about Brad. He isn’t just showing off out there, he’s trying to say, ‘Look at me, I’m doing good. And I’m having a great time.’ The question is, who is he trying to get that message to, and why? That’s what I need to find out when I work with him. Because until he faces it, and puts it aside, he’ll never go all the way in a tournament like this one.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “You’re crazy, lady.” He sat back in his seat and focused his attention on the court.
Simone stood up and said, “I’ll contact Brad later. I’ve seen enough to know how I can help him.” She left her seat and found the exit. She wasn’t going to sit there and be insulted by Tony Cotton, and she wasn’t sure how much more of the match she could watch without her thoughts getting scrambled.
This morning, she had slapped Brad and stormed out of his hotel room full of anger. Now, she was thinking dirty thoughts about him as she watched him play tennis. Being near him was giving her a one-track mind. She had never felt so turned on by a guy before, and it unnerved her.
Maybe she shouldn’t have taken this job after all.
With Brad’s coach calling her crazy, and her sex drive revving up every time she was with Brad, she knew this was all going to lead to trouble.
* * *
Her phone buzzed a few hours later as she sat in her hotel room watching the sun go down over the city. After returning from Wimbledon, she had ordered a mojito at the hotel bar and sat at one of the tables, trying to unwind. When that hadn’t worked, she had gone up to the room and watched TV for a while before standing at the window and gazing at the orange sunset.
She answered her phone. It was Brad. He sounded happy. “Hey, why did you run out on me?”
“I didn’t run anywhere. I saw enough to give me an idea how to proceed with your case.”
“My case? I’m a case, am I? You could have stayed and watched me win the match.”
“I didn’t need to do that.”
“Because you knew I was going to win, right?”
“I should have had a bet with your coach. He told me you were going to win in straight sets. But judging by the time, I’d say you lost a couple before you fought back and won.”
He was silent for a moment. “Well, yeah, but anyway, it doesn’t matter. Put on your best dress because we are going to The Ritz.”
“The Ritz?”
“Yeah, I got us a table.”
Simone had heard of The Ritz but had never been there. She wasn’t sure that she had an appropriate dress in her suitcase.
“You’re still coming out with me, right?” Brad asked.
“Yes, of course. I said I would. What time?”
“Be there at eight. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too,” she said. But after she had ended the call, she wondered if she was looking forward to dinner or not. She had left Wimbledon early because watching Brad was getting her hot under the collar. Was going out with him a good idea? Yet part of her was looking forward to seeing him again. Her mind and body were sending conflicting signals.
She sighed. “It’ll be fine. It’s not like it’s a date or anything; it’s just a business meeting.”
But as she laid her black dress on the bed, she wasn’t sure if Brad was treating this as a business meeting or something more.
And she was sure that if he suggested turning their meeting into something more, she was going to say yes.
5
As she climbed out of her cab and stepped through the large doors that the doorman held open for her, Simone felt out of place.
She was sure her black dress was too short for an establishment like this. The other female diners all seemed to be dressed in long dresses that reached their ankles, making Simone wonder if there was a dress code she wasn’t aware of. Damn, she should have checked that online before turning up here in a dress that barely reached her knees.
“Simone!”
She turned to see Brad coming in through the doors. He wore a gray suit, white shirt, and black tie, confirming her fears that there was a dress code she wasn’t aware of. He looked damn good in the suit. She had seen Brad in tennis whites, a suit, and towel, and she wasn’t sure which she preferred. He looked amazing in all of them.
“Hi,” she said.
“Are you okay?” His arm slid around her waist and he gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Yeah, I guess.”
He looked closely at her, as if weighing her mood. “You’re not happy here, are you?”
She shrugged. “I…I don’t know.”
He turned her around and guided her toward the doors with his hand at the small of her back.
“Where are we going?” she asked. “You reserved a table.”
“I did,” he said. “They can give it to someone else.” He stepped out onto the street and waved for a cab.
A taxi slid over to the sidewalk and the driver leaned over so he could see Brad through the side window. “Where to, mate?”
Brad gave the driver some instructions that Simone didn’t hear and then ushered her inside the vehicle. He got in beside her and closed the door. Simone wasn’t sure what cologne he was wearing, but it smelled intoxicating. In fact, his closeness to her in the back of the cab made her feel a little light-headed, like a teenager out on her first date. She put that down to her relief at not having to dine at The Ritz and commit some faux pas that would have her locked in the Tower of London.
The taxi pulled away from the curb and joined the flow of traffic through the busy streets.
“Where are we going?” Simone asked Brad.
“We’re going somewhere you’ll feel much more comfortable than a stuffy restaurant.”
“Sounds intriguing.”
“Well, let’s say it’s more down-to-earth. I wasn’t sure if you would be impressed by The Ritz or not. You’re hard to read.”
“Oh, you’re trying to impress me? And here I thought this was a business meeting.”
He grinned and held up his hands. “Okay, you caught me. I was trying to impress you. But it looks like I misjudged you.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So you thought I was a Ritz-type of girl?”
He laughed. “Maybe. I wasn’t sure. As I said, you’re hard to read. I thought that your cool and guarded attitude was because you liked the finer things in life and looked down on everyone else. Now, I’m sure that isn’t so. I think it’s an act. You put up a shield around yourself, but inside you’re just as fun-loving as anyone.”
“You think I don’t know how to have fun? I let my hair down when the time is right.”
His eyes looked into hers. “Let me know when that time is, and I’ll help you take it down.”
Simone turned her face to the window so that Brad wouldn’t see her smile. He had already charmed the panties off of her simply by leaving The Ritz. She had been with a lot of men who would never dream of losing a reservation at a high-class restaurant simply because she was uncomfortable. Brad had already acted more thoughtfully than most of the guys she had ever dated.
This isn’t a date. It’s a business meeting, remember?
Brad was making it too easy to forget why she was here.
“We’re supposed to be discussing how we’re going to work together,” she reminded him.
“Of course.” He moved away from her slightly and sat back in the seat. Simone missed their closeness as soon as he was gone. Brad was making it obvious that he was only going to go as far as she let him. Still, it would be nice if he came a little closer. Simone wondered if her reminder had sounded more stern that she had meant it. She didn’t come across as that cold, did she?
Maybe she did. Brad had said he thought she looked down on everyone else. If that was the impression she gave, Simone felt terrible. Being business-like was one thing, but appearing stand-offish was another.
She moved a little closer to Brad to let him know she wasn’t pushing him away, and said, “So what do you think is wrong with your game?”
He shrugged. “Maybe nothing. Did I tell you I won today? You might not know that because you ran out on me.”
“Yes, you did tell me, and no, I didn’t run out on you. I want you to answer my next question honestly, okay?”
He narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion and gave her a drawn out, “Okay.”
“When you were fighting your hardest to win that match, at the moment you were giving it your all, what was going through your head? What was motivating you?”
Brad looked out at the street lights for a moment before answering. “I didn’t want to lose.”
“Interesting. So the fear of losing was stronger than the desire to win.”
He frowned. “Isn’t it the same thing?”
“Not necessarily. Tell me why you fear losing.”
“Isn’t that obvious? I don’t want people to think I’m a loser.”
Simone looked at him closely. She usually knew when there was something more behind what a client was telling her, and she was sure there was more to Brad’s statement than he was revealing.
“Have you experienced a moment in your life when people thought you were a loser?” she asked.
“Sure, when I lose tennis matches.”
She shook her head. “No, this goes deeper than that. Is there a specific moment when you were called a loser and it stuck in your memory? Something you think about a lot, even now?”
He stared out of the window again. “No,” he said.
She knew he was lying.
“Okay, we can come back to that at a later date.” There was no point in pushing him this early, but if she was going to help Brad, she needed to find out what memory from his past was affecting him today.
The taxi driver pulled over and parked the cab. He turned around and looked at Brad through the Plexiglas partition that separated him from the passengers. “Here we are, mate. As requested.” He read the total fare on the meter.
“Wait here,” Brad told him. “I’ll be back in a moment. Keep the meter running.” He opened his door and got out.
“Where are you going?” Simone asked.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, closing the door and disappearing into a brightly lit fast-food joint.
Simone leaned over to read the illuminated green and yellow sign above the door: London River Cuisine.
It seemed popular; the tables inside were all occupied by diners, and there was a long line of people ordering takeout.
“Does this place make good food?” she asked the driver.
He nodded. “The best burgers and pizza in this part of the city, miss. Not many tourists know about it, so your American friend must know a thing or two about London.”
Brad returned a while later holding a large brown paper sack in his arms. He climbed back into the taxi and placed the sack on the floor. The smells coming from it made Simone’s mouth water. “That smells delicious,” she said.
“It will be,” Brad replied. He told the driver to take them to Tower Bridge.
“What’s at Tower Bridge?” Simone asked.
“Nothing in particular. But it’s a warm summer night, so we could eat by the river. Go for a walk in the moonlight, maybe. It’s very romantic.”
“We’re not here for romance,” she reminded him. She had to admit, though, that the idea of taking a romantic moonlit walk along the river with Brad held more than a little appeal.
“All right, I get it. No romance. But we can still enjoy good food and watch the boats sail by on the River Thames. While we talk business, of course,” he added.
The driver
pulled over and said, “Tower Bridge, sir.” Brad paid him, grabbed the food, and led Simone out of the car and down a set of concrete steps that led down from the bridge to a wide paved walkway that ran along the riverbank.
A few tourists wandered along the path in small groups, and a pack of joggers in bright-green Lycra ran past. The overhead lights reflected on the surface of the still river while the lights in the windows of the tall buildings across the water competed with the stars in the bright summer sky. The moon was three quarters full, and its reflection lent a silver hue to the river.
Food vendors were selling roasted nuts and hotdogs from small carts dotted along the walkway. The smells reminded Simone that she was hungry and looking forward to whatever goodies Brad had brought from London River Cuisine.
He took her to a grassy area where a wooden picnic table sat unoccupied. Simone sat across from him while Brad took various Styrofoam packets and cardboard boxes from the sack and placed them on the table. “We have cheeseburgers, fried chicken, a pepperoni pizza, a Hawaiian pizza, fries, and sodas,” he said, pointing at the packages as he spoke. “I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got some of everything.”
“Sounds great.” They unwrapped the food and began eating. Simone took a bite of a cheeseburger and closed her eyes in ecstasy. “Oh my God, this burger is amazing.”
Brad smiled, seemingly pleased with himself. “I told you it would be good.” He opened the top button on his shirt and loosened his tie.
“How did you know about that place? The taxi driver said you must know London well.”
He shrugged. “Not really. I played at Wimbledon a couple of years ago. One night, I went walking along the streets to clear my head and I caught the aroma of those burgers in the air. I followed the scent, and the rest is history.”
“Of course,” Simone said, taking a drink of her soda. “Your bear senses.”
He nodded but said nothing as he took a slice of pepperoni pizza from the box.
“Does being a bear shifter help you when you play tennis?” Simone asked.
McClintock Bears Box Set Page 12
