Hot Item

by Carly Phillips

  She figured John had a point though, since the woman’s husband had tracked him down and threatened to smash his face in if he went near his wife again.

  “It also would have been nice if she’d mentioned that he was an amateur boxer.” Roper downed the rest of his fruity alcoholic drink. “Glad I ordered another,” he said.

  “It’s amazing the media hasn’t picked up on this one.”

  Roper laughed. “It’s early in the season. Give them time.”

  Sophie sipped her drink. “Perhaps you ought to know a little more about a person before jumping into bed with them?” she suggested, trying to think about what her sister would tell her friend. Thank goodness Micki would be back in two days. Then she could handle Roper’s latest crisis.

  “And take the mystery out of it?” Roper asked, laughing. “No, you’re right. And contrary to popular belief, I don’t pick up strange women often.”

  “Well, now you’ve been reminded about the reason why.”

  The waitress suddenly appeared and placed an unopened bottle of wine on the table.

  “There must be some mistake. We didn’t order this,” Sophie said.

  The other woman turned and pointed across the room. “Compliments of the man at the bar.”

  Both Sophie and Roper glanced over. A blond stranger smiled at her.

  Sophie also noted that Riley had disappeared in the few minutes since she’d last seen him. She tried not to care, but her hands sweated and nausea overtook her at the thought of him leaving the bar with another woman.

  Roper examined the bottle. “Nice vintage, Soph.”

  She didn’t care about the cost. “I can’t go anywhere without being harassed,” she said on a frustrated groan.

  “I’d hardly call a ninety-dollar bottle of wine harassment,” Roper said.

  “It is if you aren’t interested.” She looked up at the waiting cocktail waitress. “Please tell the gentleman that I appreciate the offer, but no thank you.”

  The other woman inclined her head. “Whatever you say.”

  “Hey wait!” Roper complained, as she left with the bottle.

  Sophie couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t you think that instead of wishing you could take the free drink, you ought to be insulted that strange men are sending expensive bottles of wine to me despite the fact that I’m sitting here with you?” she asked.

  He leaned back in his seat. “Nah. We’re obviously platonic friends. Not like those two.” He tipped his head in the direction of the dance floor, where Cindy and Miguel were locked tightly together.

  A real pang of envy flooded Sophie, for what she’d had with Riley and what they’d never have again. She turned away from the sight of Cindy and her new love.

  The waitress returned, this time with a bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne. “He’s stubborn. He said to ask how you liked the flowers.”

  “I’ve received so many I lost count,” she muttered.

  The other woman laughed. “Apparently he knew you’d say that, because he said to tell you that his name is Steve Harris and his were the two dozen red ones along with chocolates from your favorite store.”

  Sophie shivered, recalling asking Nicki, their temp, how the man knew where to buy her chocolates. Nicki had assumed Sophie wouldn’t mind and had questioned Sophie’s secretary, then divulged the information to the stranger. Sophie had nearly fired her on the spot. Only her begging and promise not to mess up again had saved her job.

  Roper laughed. “Do you like persistent men?” he asked Sophie.

  She rubbed her forehead with her hand. “I have a splitting headache and this man’s pushiness is borderline scary.” She waved away the second bottle. “Please tell him no thank you and I’m not going to change my mind.” Sophie had had enough and rose from her seat. “No offense, but I really need to go home.”

  John immediately stood, too. “Are you taking a cab?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll walk you out and help you hail one.” Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew some bills and left them on the table.

  She placed a hand on his forearm. “You stay,” she urged. “Why should you lose a perfectly good table just because I’m a spoilsport?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

  She nodded. “Tell Cindy I’ll see her at work in the morning, okay?”

  “No problem. You take care.” He gave her a friendly hug.

  Sophie smiled. “Thanks, John.”

  A few minutes later, she’d wound her way through the crowded bar and ended up on the street. The sun had set while they were inside and a warm breeze, too warm for the time of year, settled on her shoulders.

  She brushed her heavy bangs off her forehead and searched uptown for a taxi with a light indicating it was vacant, but typical of New York City at night, she had a long wait.

  Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder. She whirled around and found herself face-to-face with Steve Harris, the man who’d sent her the flowers, chocolate and both bottles from the bar. Bottles she’d turned down. And he didn’t appear too pleased with her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  RILEY WAS PISSED OFF. Sophie had deliberately ignored him, and Mike, hoping to work the jealousy angle in Riley’s favor, had hooked them up with two gorgeous women at the bar. Mike had taken off with one of them in a cab, assuming Riley would do the same, but Riley’s interest wasn’t there. Not one iota.

  There’d been no point in going home with her when he wouldn’t have been able to get it up. He didn’t want to be with any woman other than Sophie and to pretend otherwise just to soothe his ego had been a damn stupid move.

  They’d had to walk a long way to find an empty taxi, but eventually he’d hailed her a cab and sent her on her way alone. Then he headed back to the sports bar. No sooner had he turned the corner where Quarters was located than he heard the sound of Sophie’s voice.

  “What part of no don’t you understand?” she asked, her voice rising.

  A guy Riley didn’t recognize stood too close, invading her personal space. Riley hadn’t liked it when he’d seen her with Roper, a baseball player he knew by sight not acquaintance, and he liked this even less. He stepped closer so he could hear the conversation.

  “Come on. I saw the interview on TV. You’re single and available. How many guys bother to find out where you buy your favorite chocolates? Quit playing hard-to-get.” The jerk placed a hand on her arm, which Sophie promptly shrugged off.

  Riley stiffened.

  “Back off,” she warned the guy in an angry tone, one tinged with fear.

  “Are you trying to tell me you like it rough?” the guy asked.

  “She doesn’t, but apparently you do.” Riley had had enough and he lunged forward, shoving the guy away from Sophie with enough force to make him stumble backward on the sidewalk.

  “Hey! Mind your own business,” the guy said, pulling himself together.

  “She is my business.”

  The other man shot him a disbelieving look. “That’s not what her uncle said on television and it’s not what it looked like in the bar.”

  “But it is what I’m telling you and unless you want me to smash your face into that building over there, I suggest you take my word for it.” Riley took another menacing step forward, knowing his adrenaline was pumping and his body primed for a fight.

  “Riley, no!” Sophie grabbed his arm and held on tight.

  Only her panicked voice kept him from taking a swing.

  “Okay, okay.” Sophie’s attacker backed off first. “She’s probably not worth much in the sack anyway,” he said, stepping away.

  Riley waited until the man had disappeared around the corner before facing Sophie. “You okay?”

  Her cheeks were flushed pink, her blue eyes flashing with a mixture of emotion. “I am too worth something in bed,” she muttered.

  Riley burst out laughing, then reached to run his hands up and down her arms. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She no
dded. “I’m fine.” But she swayed slightly, making her words a lie.

  “You’re dizzy.”

  “Light-headed. There’s a difference. Dizziness is usually vertiginous. You know, vertigo, the sensation of spinning like a top. I’m just light-headed and unsteady on my feet—” She suddenly paused, her eyes narrowing, focused on his face. “What’s with the smile?” she asked.

  “You’re just so predictable. If a situation makes you uncomfortable, you reach for the safety of an explanation. That’s all.”

  “First I’m not worth much in bed and then I’m predictable?” Her voice rose, trembling with what he guessed was a release of the fear she’d experienced.

  He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. “The first is untrue. I can vouch for how good you are firsthand.”

  He inhaled and his body hardened at the familiar, intoxicating scent. He reminded himself she needed reassurance, not another come-on, but he almost lost it when a purr of contentment escaped from her throat.

  “Let me get you home,” he said in a voice rough with desire.

  Sophie stepped back. “This is where I should tell you I can get home all by myself.” But she was too tired to play games and too scared to actually let him leave. And she wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

  She ran her hand through her hair. “My uncle means well, but someday he’s going to be the death of me. Things were awkward after he did the initial interview, but since Dateline picked up on the idea, lunatics have been coming out of the woodwork.”

  Riley frowned. “You didn’t say anything about that today.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t think it would get so out of hand. Besides you’re not responsible for me.” Even if she liked it when he took charge.

  Sometimes she grew tired of being the one who oversaw everything in order to prevent problems or tragedy. As if she could control such an outcome anyway.

  He strode into the street and held his hand in the air, flagging a cab. “Since you’re not planning on telling me to take a hike, let’s get out of here.”

  As soon as the cab screeched to a halt, Riley opened the door and waited for her to climb in before sliding in beside her. Sophie gave her address to the driver and settled in for the short ride. Riley didn’t crowd her in the back seat and, as much as she appreciated the sentiment, she craved his arms around her and the security he offered more.

  Before she could act on her feelings, they pulled up to her building. “We’re here.” The driver stopped the meter.

  Riley pulled cash out of his pocket and slipped it through the Plexiglas divider. “Keep the change.”

  A few minutes later, she let Riley into her apartment for the first time. He stalked the place, a man unashamed to study the unfamiliar environment and take it all in.

  Her cheeks flamed as he studied her wall of photographs. Each had been meticulously chosen and framed by Sophie herself. They were spaced one inch apart on the wall directly across from her bedroom, so she could make out the outline of each picture at night. Even if she couldn’t see the individual photos, Sophie knew which picture held which place, and why.

  She swallowed hard. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  He straightened from where he’d focused on a photograph of Sophie, Annabelle and Micki, taken the day they’d come to live with Uncle Yank. Each sister wore a matching frilly dress in order to make a good impression. What the picture didn’t show was the bow on each of their behinds, she remembered, and laughed aloud.

  He shot her a curious look at her abrupt outburst. “I’d love a Coke. I’m thirsty.”

  “Coke it is,” she said, grateful for something to keep her busy.

  “What was so funny?”

  She pulled a can from the cabinet and filled two glasses with ice, dividing the soda between them. “I was just wondering what Uncle Yank must have thought when he saw the three of us for the first time.” She handed him his glass.

  “He probably calculated the distance to the nearest exit.” Riley grinned.

  She smiled. “No kidding. I don’t know how he did it,” she murmured. “I was always so afraid he’d go away and leave us alone the way Mom and Dad had.” They walked to the sofa and she settled in, curling her legs beneath her.

  Riley sat beside her, his knee touching hers. He remained silent, obviously giving her time to think and relax. She was grateful for the security he brought her and, for now, their earlier disagreements and all they didn’t have in common faded away.

  “You’d think that after all these years, those issues and insecurities would disappear.” She placed her glass on a coaster on her cocktail table.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I mean, if childhood crap didn’t stay with us, shrinks would be out of business.”

  She laughed, but knew that deep down he was also referring to his own issues. It helped to know she wasn’t alone.

  Sophie yawned suddenly, the events of the night taking their toll, especially now with the danger gone and the rush of adrenaline dissipating fast.

  “Come on. Off to bed.” He held out his hand.

  In his eyes, she saw warmth and caring. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t view the flicker of desire in their brown depths, a desire that had stirred to life inside her, too.

  He must have sensed her hesitation, because he lowered his hand to his lap and curled it into a fist. “I’m not going to attack you in your bedroom, Soph. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  A huge lump formed in her throat. Not because she’d insulted him, but because she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had taken care of her, without her pulling the strings behind the scenes. Before she knew it, an actual tear fell down her cheek. She wiped the moisture away with the back of her hand.

  “I didn’t think for one second that you’d take advantage of me,” she whispered.

  “Then why the hesitation? And why the tears now?”

  She smiled. “I was just surprised, that’s all. I’m usually the one in charge of taking care of everyone else.”

  He extended his hand again, this time grasping her hand in his. “Well, it’s time you let yourself go. If you’re exhausted, feel it. If you’re going through a release of tension, then collapse. I’m here to catch you,” he said in a gruff voice and pulled her to her feet.

  She stood, but to her surprise, her knees buckled, another rush of light-headedness assaulting her.

  He was there in an instant, wrapping his arm around her waist and leading her to the bedroom. “When was the last time you ate?”

  “Um…lunch, I think?”

  “And you drank on an empty stomach? For a smart woman, that was pretty stupid.” He flicked the light switch and her night-table lamp flickered to life.

  “I had some peanuts,” she said, her words not much of a defense.

  “If you think you’ll be all right alone in here, why don’t you change into something comfortable and I’ll see what I can scrounge up in your kitchen?”

  “I’ll be fine.” But she chuckled at his other comment. “I take it your own kitchen is pretty bare?”

  He cocked his head to one side. “I’m a bachelor. What do you think?”

  She opened her dresser drawers, pulling out a change of clothes. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by what you find in mine. The question is what you’re able to do with it.”

  He shook his head and laughed. “Oh ye of little faith. My mother loves to cook as a way to release the stresses of living with a man constantly on the run and scheduling events. If I was home, I’d sit and watch her. Sometimes I even helped. I can get by.” He winked at her and headed for the kitchen.

  Her knees turned weak, but this time not because she was hungry. At least not for anything except this sexy man who seemed to want nothing more than to tend to her every need.

  At least for now. A little voice in her head warned her to tread lightly and carefully, to accept what he offered now but not to read anything into
it for the future. Which was fine with her. She knew herself. Knew what would happen if she and Riley even attempted to make this…this…thing between them work long term.

  She already knew what would happen. To keep the fear of losing him at bay, she’d compensate with her need to control and end up trying to control him. Like she had with Uncle Yank’s vision problems and then with his broken hip. Like she had with her sisters until they’d argued back. Like she had with prior men in her life who hadn’t meant nearly as much to her as Riley already did.

  She’d already stepped into his hang-ups in Florida. Without a doubt, she’d blow it with him again. It was only a matter of time before an independent, free-spirited man like Riley would run again, this time for good.

  Better to remember to protect herself first. That settled, she quickly changed into silky drawstring pants and a matching T-shirt, then washed up for the night.

  She devoured Riley’s delicious and impressive fluffy omelet loaded with freshly chopped vegetables and cheese, along with toast and a large glass of orange juice before heading off to bed. With Riley by her side.

  RILEY WATCHED Sophie sleep. No sooner had she crawled beneath the covers than she passed out cold. Of course there had been the few seconds when she’d moved and wrangled beneath the light yellow bedding. While his imagination had been running wild with thoughts of what she could be doing under there, suddenly her pajama bottoms had come flying out from beneath the covers.

  “I can’t sleep with pants on,” she’d explained through a yawn, oblivious to how those words had turned him on.

  Then she’d fluffed her pillow, laid her head down and promptly fallen asleep, leaving him worked up on top of the comforter—where he planned to stay, for her sake as well as his own.

  She needed her sleep. He needed her. There was no point in denying the obvious. It was a fight within himself that he was destined to lose. He had no choice but to go with the flow. See where this thing took him. That she’d let him bring her home was a sign she was softening toward him.