Playing to Win

by Shelley Munro

  Kate winced at the hint of panic shining in his gray eyes. Regret closed her throat. “I’m sorry…I… We’d better go inside. The door’s wide open for anyone to see.”

  In the kitchen, Kate automatically started making coffee. Although her back faced Lane, his silent presence filled her senses. Concentrate. Measure the beans, grind the beans and add the water. The longer she delayed, the more the words jammed in her mind. Her hands trembled, spilling some of the coffee grounds on the counter.

  After wiping the surface clean, she turned to face him. “The wives at the match started talking at halftime,” she blurted.

  His face grew watchful, his eyes intent. “It must have been bad to upset you so much.”

  “I…yes. They repeated gossip from your agent’s office.”

  Lane propped his hip against the kitchen counter. His eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you going to tell me what they said?”

  “Why did you tell Caryn you were suing for custody of Jamie?” she countered, eyeing him uneasily. His attentive gaze seemed to drill right through her, and she felt sure he had picked up every single insecurity she possessed.

  “I’ve never discussed our situation with Caryn.”

  “Really?”

  “No, apart from discussing the initial story in the paper. The press contacted Caryn first to let her know they were publishing the story and asked for further comments. She rang straightaway to prepare me for the article.”

  “I see.” But it was a lie. She didn’t see anything except half-truths and newspaper articles full of innuendo. Was it any wonder confusion dogged her, filling her mind with uncertainty and draining confidence?

  “No, damn it!” Lane pushed away from the counter, no longer calm and relaxed. He prowled the space between the table and the counter, reminding Kate of an agitated leopard. “You don’t see. You and me, our relationship, is private. The only person I’ve ever discussed my personal life with is you.”

  Kate sighed, guilt prompting a burst of restless shuffling. “Someone in Caryn’s office is spreading gossip.” With bowed head, she blurted, “Lane, I’m sorry. I listened to every vicious word they said, and I…I guess I panicked.” And that was the truth, she acknowledged. Her chin wobbled and tears burned behind her eyes. Every ugly word had screwed her judgment, tangling her in knots of doubt. “They said I wanted your money, that I intended to use Jamie to extort…” Her voice hitched, her throat knotting so much she had to stop speaking.

  Lane paced past Kate and swept a frustrated hand through his damp hair. “I don’t know who’s responsible for the gossip but I intend to find out.” He grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and punched speed dial.

  “Caryn? Can you come over to the apartment? In about an hour? Okay.” He terminated the call. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Go where? Not to the after-match function?” Even though she knew it cowardly, the idea of facing any of those women again made her stomach cramp with stirrings of acute panic. She shook her head.

  “It’s not safe for you to stay here alone.”

  Kate opened her mouth to say no, that she’d stay here, then she remembered the flat tires on her car. Anger mixed with common sense to produce a grudging nod of acceptance.

  “Good,” he said. “Do you need anything or are you ready to go? Where’s your car, anyway? I didn’t see it outside.”

  “It’s parked near Eden Park. Someone put Z-nails in front of my tires while I watched the match. When I drove over them, my tires went flat.”

  “Do you think it’s related? Did you call the cops?” He shot her a fierce look when they paused to lock the door then walked down the footpath to his car. “And you wanted to stay here alone.”

  They climbed into the car before resuming the conversation.

  “Yes, I called the police. I feel as though I’m being driven from my home,” Kate said, closing her eyes and leaning back against the passenger seat. “I don’t like it.”

  Lane took in her pale face with the violet circles under her eyes and gave a resigned sigh. This woman mattered to him. When she hurt, the same sensation pulsed deep within him. His jaw locked in determination and he drove toward his apartment. Caryn had better produce answers. He had told Kate nothing less than the truth. Apart from the original article, he hadn’t discussed anything with Caryn or anyone else in her office. Their meetings were business, which begged the question, what the hell was Caryn playing at?

  * * * * *

  “What’s all the mystery?” Caryn shrugged off her black leather jacket and dumped it on a chair before stepping over to Lane and kissing him full on the lips.

  A heavy cloud of exotic perfume engulfed Kate. Her brows rose as the pretty blonde clung to Lane. That didn’t look like the kiss of a friend.

  Lane pulled away and pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket to wipe scarlet lipstick from his mouth. “Stop kidding around. Kate and I have a few questions for you.”

  Caryn whirled around, her dramatic eyes widening in surprise. “Kate! I didn’t see you there. How was the game? I got caught up with my meeting and didn’t make it back.” She smiled, not at all put out by Kate witnessing their kiss. Kate admired the woman’s unruffled composure.

  “I overheard the players’ wives talking about me and the situation with Lane.”

  Caryn shrugged impatiently, her attitude conveying little surprise at the disclosure. “You and Lane are hot gossip at the moment. What did they say?”

  “Someone in your office told them Lane intended to take Jamie away from me,” Kate snapped, incensed with Caryn’s casual I-don’t-care attitude.

  Caryn drew back sharply, as if Kate had bitten her. “The information didn’t come from me or any of my employees. All my personnel sign a confidentiality clause when they start work for me. Lane hasn’t told me a thing and I haven’t asked. As long as he fulfils his contracts, his personal life is none of my business.”

  The other woman oozed sincerity and outrage at the idea of her firm being held responsible, but Kate persisted. “Then who told them?”

  “I’ve no idea. Believe me, I intend to investigate, but I’ll be very surprised to find the information came from one of my employees.”

  Kate looked from Lane to Caryn and back again. Instinct told her Caryn spoke the truth. They’d had no time to compare stories beforehand.

  Caryn checked her watch and heaved an impatient sigh. “The rumor and innuendo could have been prevented if you’d released a statement to the press right at the start, as I suggested. You don’t need to give the press intimate details. A brief statement will do.”

  “Kate? What do you think? What do you want to do?” Lane asked.

  Kate darted a look toward Caryn. “Could we talk privately for a moment, Lane?”

  Caryn flashed a smile. “Go ahead. I need to use the bathroom anyway.”

  Once Caryn left the room, Kate turned to Lane. “Would we have to mention Nicole?”

  “I think we could keep the statement simple. Something along the lines Jamie is my son, we’re on good terms and I intend to take part in his upbringing.”

  Kate grimaced, the thought of baring more of her life to public speculation distasteful. “I don’t see the need for a statement, especially when we don’t know for sure you’re his father.”

  “I’d rather release a brief statement to kill the gossip than have you ranting at me for something I haven’t done.” Lane stepped toward her, intent written over his stark face.

  A pulse hammered to life by her jawbone, increasing in tempo when he drew near. His spicy aftershave teased her while the fleeting touch of his hand trailing over her cheek spiked her heart rate.

  “I enjoy the making up part better than the fighting,” he said.

  Kate stared. When they argued, his eyes looked cold, full of ice and frost. In this playful mood, she was helpless, eager to bask in his warmth. A sigh whispered past her lips when he drew her close. She sank against his hard muscular chest. The embrace should have
felt uncomfortable with all that muscle, but she reveled in their differences, savoring the press of her breasts against him, the sensation of home, of comfort and rightness.

  “Am I interrupting?” Caryn chirped.

  “Yes,” Lane muttered.

  Kate reddened under Caryn’s interested gaze and tugged from Lane’s touch. “We’ll give the press a statement,” she said.

  Caryn switched to a businesslike persona. “I think that’s wise. It should stop the unhealthy gossip.”

  “How about working your statement out over dinner tomorrow night? Lane can pay,” she added with a cheeky wink. “Now if that’s all, I have to go. I have a date in precisely half an hour and this is one I don’t want to miss.” Her grin widened and she waggled pencil-thin brows a la Groucho Marx. “Justin is a babe. If I play my cards right, he could be my babe, if you know what I mean.”

  Lane pulled Kate against his side and held her there despite her brief struggle.

  Caryn didn’t miss a thing. She winked at Lane and headed for the door. “Tomorrow—Carlton for drinks and dinner afterward. Lane, remember you’re paying.”

  Lane chuckled but his amusement met empty air. “Caryn has always been a powerhouse. She makes me tired just watching the way she rushes about.”

  “I imagine she’s good at her job.”

  “The best agent I’ve ever had.” He grinned down at her because Caryn was the only agent he’d ever had. “Now where were we when we were so rudely interrupted?”

  A sliver of trepidation made her hesitate. Kate wanted time to think, to know she was doing the right thing in letting the relationship advance. With memories of Steve fresh in her mind, she needed a solid foundation of trust. Everything had happened so quickly it felt as though a rogue wave had knocked her off her feet, albeit a very charming one. Kate pressed her palms flat against Lane’s chest and pushed. “Ah, I don’t think…”

  “Don’t think,” he whispered just a fraction of a second before he covered her lips with his.

  Kate thought about protesting, but he kept the kiss light, nipping and teasing, soothing the light bites with a broad sweep of his tongue. Like playing a trout, she thought just before she released her inner struggle and settled in to enjoy the experience. She shivered when his tongue pushed past her lips to explore the softness of her inner mouth. He brushed his hands over her shoulders and down her back, pulling her body flush with his. His erection stabbed into her lower belly and he held her firmly, his large hands grasping her hips when she would have moved away.

  He continued to kiss her, tongues stroking together easily while he soothed her, tempted her with his touch. Kate did some touching of her own, exploring the firm and fluid muscles beneath his heavy cotton shirt, feeling the heat of him through his clothes. Her womb fluttered, moisture pooling between her legs. It had been so long, so long since she’d felt this sort of drugging pleasure. The desire for more lured her onward. What would he feel like, look like without the layer of clothing? Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples aching for his touch, his hands and mouth. A spike of pleasure darted the length of her body at the thought. His mouth. Lord, it felt so good…

  When Lane finally lifted his head, they were both breathing heavily. Kate forced her weighted lids open, meeting his dark, smoldering gaze. Their eyes held for a long moment and he shot her a knowing wink before propelling Kate toward her allotted bedroom.

  What? He intended to stop?

  She wanted to dig her heels in and protest. She wanted to beg him to continue, to rip her clothes off and take her.

  “Go,” he said huskily. “You’re not ready for this. I didn’t intend to take things so far.” His gray eyes glowed, molten with desire. The same yearning thrummed through her body, yet Kate hesitated, the sane part of her knowing she’d regret following her instincts once she had time to think. The man knew her better than she liked. It was the knowledge that gave her the strength to take a shaky step away from him.

  “If you don’t go now,” he warned, “I’m coming with you. Somehow I don’t think you’re ready.” He paused a beat, a twinkle of humor in his eyes. “Yet.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “I can’t believe I overslept,” Kate muttered the next morning, jamming the keys into the lock of her front door. No, a lie. She knew exactly why she’d slept late. It had been Lane’s fault—the cause of the X-rated dreams haunting her during the night. Her nipples tightened at the thought and a swathe of color seeped into her cheeks.

  Luckily Lane wasn’t there to witness her discomfort. His exit words last night had kept her tossing and turning through the small hours. Even now, Kate’s body throbbed for his touch, making her conscious of the yawning emptiness in her life.

  In the last few hours she’d thought more about sex than she had in the past five years. Edgy, she pushed the door open and rushed to her treatment room, relieved to find everything in order and ready for the imminent arrival of her client. She flicked the power switch on the kettle and once it had boiled, she topped up her oil burner with hot water before adding three drops of an uplifting blend.

  Kate rubbed at tired, gritty eyes, aware of an unsettled feeling, a sense of her life rushing out of control. Lane Gerrard’s fault. This morning the man had acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, merely dropping her off and giving her a smile of farewell.

  The doorbell’s chime drove her brooding thoughts out of her head. Kate glanced at the clock. Mrs. Shuker, her first client of the day, had arrived five minutes early. Kate plastered a polite smile on her face and opened the door.

  * * * * *

  Lane arrived at Kate’s just after five. Since her “busy” sign showed prominently on the door, he waited in his car until she appeared outside with her last client of the day, an elderly man.

  “How was your day?” he asked when her client had left.

  “Busy. I arranged for the local garage to collect my car and fit the new tire. Luckily they delivered it here for me because I’ve been busy with clients all day.” Kate rotated her shoulders. “But that’s good,” she added, before changing the direction of the shoulder rotation.

  Lane’s grin broadened as licentious thoughts filled his mind. He loved the way she unwound and watching her breasts moving with the action. He had no idea how he’d managed to push her away the previous night. One thing was for sure—he wasn’t going to be stupid enough to do it again. “Want me to massage your shoulders?”

  “Go inside,” she mumbled, her cheeks a rosy pink as she avoided his laughing gaze. “I’ll check the mail.”

  Still grinning, Lane wandered into the hall and sniffed the air, trying to identify the scent. He turned when he heard Kate behind him. “What’s that scent? I like—” Her pale cheeks stopped him mid-sentence. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “The certificate’s arrived.”

  Hell. He stared at the innocuous envelope clutched in her right hand. Although he desperately wanted to know the truth, now that the certificate had arrived, fear ripped through him. What if Jamie wasn’t his son?

  He cleared his throat. “What does it say?”

  “I don’t know. I’m too scared to look.”

  Her words summed up his fears concisely. Sudden anxiety chased thoughts through his mind. Until the newspaper story, Lane hadn’t realized how much he wanted children and a family of his own—the package deal. Once the adoration of fans and the huge numbers of pretty women throwing themselves at him had palled, Lane had become aware of a nothing, meaningless life governed by money. At times it became difficult to work out people’s motivation. Were they sincere? Did they want to know him or bask in the light of his fame? Did his date see dollar signs or was she genuinely interested in him as a man? After the narrow escape with Rachel, doubt surfaced quickly and he’d become cynical about women’s motives.

  Until Kate and Jamie…

  Lane curved an arm around Kate’s waist, offering silent comfort. Strangely, close contact with Kate acted as a soother. T
hey would face the contents of the envelope together—whatever they were.

  “Let’s go into the kitchen,” he murmured. “We’ll open it there.” The walk to the kitchen took ages, and once there, he hesitated. “I guess you’d better open it.”

  Kate thrust the plain brown envelope at him. “You do it.”

  He accepted the envelope and ripped it open, his gut roiling uneasily. The tear of paper sounded overloud in the tense, quiet room. Lane extracted the two sheets of paper within and the envelope dropped forgotten to the ground. He grimaced at the giveaway tremor of nerves in his fingers and tightened his grasp on the flimsy pages.

  He scanned the contents rapidly. His eyes widened and a curse escaped. “What the hell does father unknown mean?” he demanded at a near bellow. He was positive Jamie was his son. Why didn’t the certificate confirm it?

  “Give me that.” Kate snatched it from his hand. She read the full certificate and went on to the micrographic copy. Lane already knew they said the same thing. “I don’t believe it,” she said.

  “It’s there in black and white.”

  Kate turned into a virago before his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot,” she snapped. “There must be a reason for Nicole reporting Jamie’s father as unknown. She wasn’t a vindictive person. She wasn’t,” she insisted. “Nicole wouldn’t have wanted Jamie to grow up not knowing the identity of his father. There has to be a good reason.”

  “Like what?” Lane asked, bitterness coating his words. “It’s damned frustrating. What do we do now?” Maybe it was time to insist on a DNA test. He opened his mouth to voice the thought before shutting it again. Hell, he didn’t know what to do without alienating Kate entirely.

  Kate grabbed her denim jacket and thrust her arms into the sleeves. “Cancel dinner with Caryn and we’ll pay Maxine a visit. The press can wait a few more days for a statement.”

  He nodded slowly. Kate was right. Action sounded better than sitting around and letting frustration fuel his anger.