The Sport of Romance: A Multi-Author Box Set

by Cari Quinn

  “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.

  Chapter Twenty

  “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 th
e 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.

  “I’m on a tight leash, Doc.” He took her hand in his and moved it over to her own leg. “That’s probably safer. For both of us.”

  “But—”

  “I get it.” He looked straight forward, concentrating on the scenery through the windshield. “You don’t want this to go anywhere. Because of my past. I understand. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “So if I could get over your past—”

  “But you can’t. I can’t give you what you want, Doc, and we both know it.” His jaw ticked, his nostrils flared, but still he didn’t look at her. “Don’t make this into a fairytale because it’ll only hurt us both.”

  Even as her heart dropped to her toes, she knew he knew her, knew she’d concocted all kinds of happily-ever-scenarios. Fantasies. Dreams. And she’d just awakened to the stone-cold reality.

  She’d been fooling herself. And dammit, he knew that, too. Of course he would. She’d been told for as long as she could remember her emotions, her every thought, registered on her expressive face.

  His hand reached for her face before he dropped it back into his lap without touching her. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Frankie. And I sure as hell don’t wanna end up with a broken heart.”

  She laughed. She couldn’t help herself.

  His eyes narrowed and he scrutinized her face, every miniscule pore. He shook his head and went back to watching the road better than the taxi driver. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Oh, but it did. It mattered like nothing ever had before. She hadn’t ever felt about any man the way she felt for Xavier. He filled her dreams, her fantasies. He might just have ruined her for any other man.

  Christian, damn him, had been right. She’d gotten in too deep with Xavier and had lost her heart to him.

  The taxi slowed and stopped. Xavier opened the door, stepped out and handed some bills to the driver. He held his enormous hand out to her. She debated getting out her own door instead of sliding across the seat and accepting his help. She couldn’t resist touching him. She’d give herself the next twenty-four hours. They’d be going home, back to reality in the morning and she needed to kill all her delusions by saturating herself in his attention, drowning in everything Xavier.

  She slid across the seat and slipped her hand into his. He tugged as she pushed off the seat and the momentum sent her into his arms. She slammed into his chest and he heaved a breath at the impact. He held her for a moment as the taxi rolled away.

  “The decision wasn’t that hard, was it?”

  Her brows crinkled. “What?”

  “Whether or not you were going to accept my help out of the cab.”

  “Oh. I just wondered if—”

  “Don’t wonder.” He released his hold on her body, but not of her hand. “Just do what feels right. If it’s too much, I’ll tell you.”

  How about if I rip your clothes off and have my very dirty way with you? Too much?

  His hold on her hand became a vise and he choked softly. “That might be more than I can handle.”

  Heat raced into her cheeks. She buried her face in his shoulder. “I did not just say that.”

  He chuckled. “Not out loud, no, but the look on your face said more than any words could. And just going by that, no matter what you were thinking, it would definitely be more than I can handle.”

  Thank heaven for small miracles. At least she hadn’t told him what she was thinking.

  He shook his hand free of hers and took her by the shoulders, towering over her. His face, an interesting combination of serious and amused, ended up right in hers. He kissed the tip of her nose. “Enough of this. We’re just gonna drive ourselves nuts. How about no more talk about the things we want and can’t make happen? Let’s concentrate on the day. No more. No less. Just today. Just be with me, right here, right now. That’s all I ask. Let’s live in the moment.”

  She stopped and looked up into his eyes. “Okay. I can do that.”

  He grinned and her heart stuttered. “Great. Come on.” He tugged her hand. She walked along next him, not paying much attention to where they went because she couldn’t look away from the bright gold rounded top of the building in front of her.

  “It’s beautiful.” She put a hand up to shield her eyes from the glare of the morning sun. “What building is this?”

  “The House.” He shrugged.

  “Have you ever been inside?”

  He nodded and she could tell the thought didn’t thrill him. He moved behind her and slid his arms around her waist. He stepped into her, their bodies pressing together. No intimacy accompanied the act, almost like he sought comfort.

  “My dad had an office in there. So yeah, I’ve been inside. Many times.” His tone seeped sadness, loneliness and she had the desperate need to snuggle into him. “I can take you inside if you’d like.”

  “No.” She shook her head. She had no desire to see a building containing so many bad memories for him. “Thanks. Where are we off to next?”

  He pointed and Frankie glanced over to see a huge steeple towering above the tree line. He didn’t wait for her to say a word before stepping away from her. Taking her hand, he headed in the direction of what she could only assume would be a church.

  It wasn’t long before they stood in front of another old building. She placed her hand against the red brick and smiled. She knew he’d think she’d lost her mind, but she couldn’t help herself. She pressed her ear to the cool brick and listened.

  He sidled up next to her and pressed his ear to the building, his face only inches from hers. “Whatcha tryin’ to hear?”

  She smiled. “The stories.”

  He closed his eyes and let silence drift between them for a few moments. Then he gasped and his eyes flew open. “Did you hear it?”

  “No. What?” She ground her ear against the rough surface. “What’d you hear?”

  “This church was built in 1809,” he said with a grin, “and some really important anti-slavery speeches were given within these walls.”

  As Frankie stared at the serious expression on his face, giggles bubbled up from her toes. He cracked a smile and she lost all composure. Palms to pecs, she pushed him. He stumbled backward and tripped over a bush. A squeak erupted through her laughter and she reached out to steady him. Evidence of her humor leaked out the corners of her eyes. He put a hand on his abdomen and laughed along with her.

  These were the times she knew she would mourn when their fairytale ended.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The last time Xavier
walked these streets, seen these sights he’d been a child on the annual field trip. Back then he hadn’t enjoyed the outing. The other boys always found a way to belittle him, even physically hurt him. The girls ignored him, which didn’t bother him too much. Better that than having them tease him. The characters in seventeenth century garb annoyed him. He’d played sick more than one year.

  Today’s venture couldn’t have been more different from those of his memories. Frankie didn’t make him feel nervous or self-conscious or fear for what might attack him as he rounded the corner. And yet, it seemed the lack of fear scared him even more.

  Frankie unnerved him. With her tender gaze, her gentle smile, her stubborn streak, and her kick ass body, she made him want things. Want home and hearth. Want her.

  “Ohmigosh!” She jerked on his hand. “We have to go in there.”

  He looked up at the sign. His heart jumped. “Um, okay.”

  Ice floated in his veins. His body went numb as Frankie led him into the jewelry store. He’d purchased a lot of gifts for women over the years, but never jewelry. The sparkly shit was waaay too personal and always sent the wrong message.

  But as she entered the store, she didn’t rush to the jewelry cases and drool over the glitter and gleam. She released his hand and reverently strode to the middle of the room where she closed her eyes. He imagined once again she tried to hear the voices of the past.

  He walked up behind her and slipped his hands around her waist, rested his chin on her head. She leaned back into him and sighed.

  “Do you hear anything?”

  She shook her head, turned in his arms. The serenity on her face calmed him. He never wanted this moment to end. Going back to real life, walking away from his feelings for her might just kill him. He’d never been a man to think about the feelings of the woman in his arms, but Frankie mattered to him.