by Skye Jordan
Noah’s gaze clicked with Finn’s, and a silent what the hell? passed between them.
“Why’s that?” Noah asked Tiffany.
“Because Dirk Phillips is on the guest list. He’s got another engagement tonight, but I’ll bet you my next Nike contract he’ll show. The bastard never misses an opportunity to sniff someone’s ass, and there are some powerful booties here tonight.”
Dirk Phillips… Phillips… “Sorry, can’t place him.”
Tiffany’s dark brows shot up. “Linebacker-slash-receiver, Pittsburg Steelers?”
“Wait, isn’t that the guy who got suspended for beating his girlfriend in that parking garage?” Finn asked.
“What?” Noah said.
“Phillips and his girl—” Finn started.
“His baby mama,” Tiffany corrected.
“…got in an argument in the garage of his high-rise apartment in downtown Pennsylvania,” Finn continued. “The whole thing was caught on camera. He decked the girl, man. Then, when she was down, he kicked her. It was brutal.” Finn looked at Tiffany. “Didn’t that go to court?”
“Stupid bitch dropped the charges,” Tiffany said. “Bastard bought his way out of prison.”
“How does Julia know him?” Noah asked, bracing for an answer he didn’t want to hear.
Tiffany shrugged. “Word from Phillips’s camp is they met during physical therapy for his knee, had a fling, he broke it off, she was pissed and threatened to go to his wife. Phillips took it to her boss, and she got fired.”
Even braced, that hit Noah hard. So hard he couldn’t think straight enough to speak. Finn took one look at Noah and picked up the slack.
“I know you always have the best juice, Tiff,” Finn said, “but that’s pretty out there.”
“Happens all the damn time,” Tiffany said. “Where have you been living, Boy Scout? From what I knew of her, I couldn’t see it, but she never fought the allegation. She just walked off the job. No lawsuit, no settlement, no nothing. She had a client list of who’s who. You don’t just walk away from a great job like that if you weren’t in the wrong. And who lets that kind of shit tarnish their records if it’s not true? I sure as shit don’t believe his side, but nobody knows hers.”
That didn’t sound like the Julia Noah knew either. They might not have known each other long, but they’d been living with each other eighteen hours a day for over a month, and her character never wavered. She had set values and solid morals. She was sweet and funny and thoughtful and kind. Yes, she worked him hard, but rewarded him later, and always put his health first. In fact, she was almost egoless when it came to his recovery. He always came first—even before her own needs.
But there was just enough credence to the tale to make Noah’s gut burn. “What records?”
“Her golds,” Tiffany said with her do you live on another planet? attitude. “I worked my ass off for my one Wimbledon trophy. You can bet if someone tried to get in my face about something I didn’t do, I’d fight for my reputation. Jesus, she’s got four golds in swimming, of all things. You couldn’t pay me to swim one damn lap.”
“She has four gold medals in swimming?” Noah repeated to make sure he was hearing correctly, because with that many medals, he should know her name.
“Yes,” she said as if Noah were an idiot. “Didn’t you say you know her?”
Well, hell, maybe not. “Are we talking about Julia Bailey.”
“Oh no. I mean yes, but no. She changed her last name when she left the sport. Told me she wanted to make it as a trainer on her skills, not her name. She won the golds under Julia Kingsley. Her father is some muckety-muck in computers. Designs and sells security systems and accessories or something.”
Holy crap. Julia Kingsley was rehabbing him.
Holy double crap. He’d slept with Julia Kingsley.
“She blew out her shoulder in the race that earned her the last gold.” Tiffany pointed to Noah’s left, and he glanced toward where Annabelle and Linc were chatting with reps from Monster. “Annabelle was her teammate. When Julia couldn’t swim in the last event, she pushed Annabelle to do it even though butterfly wasn’t her best stroke. Annabelle had always played second fiddle to Julia, getting silver when Julia got gold. But without Julia in the race, Annabelle got her first gold, which netted her several million dollars in endorsements.” Tiffany glanced over Noah’s shoulder again to where he knew Julia stood across the club. “Ironic, really. When Annabelle was raking in the cash from endorsements, Julia was getting bled dry by that POS boyfriend of hers.”
Finn’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not talking about… Holy shit. She’s the chick who was dating some older European guy, all savvy and full of himself. A diver, wasn’t he?”Bai
“Yep. Duncan Ashford,” Tiffany said. “Douche bag had her so wrapped, she agreed to joint bank accounts. When her shoulder blew, he stole everything she had, then picked up the next hottest new athlete, who also happened to be a former swimsuit model, and bailed on Julia for greener—or in this case, golder—pastures.”
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same woman?” Noah turned, found her chatting with a prominent sportscaster from ESPN. “The Julia I’m talking about is standing with—”
“Kevin Dowling of ESPN,” Tiffany said. “That’s Julia Bailey-Kingsley.” Tiffany’s gaze turned on the front doors. “And speaking of the devil who dragged her down… Told you he’d show.”
Noah’s head was spinning, his stomach shredded. “Who? What?”
“Phillips just walked in. Damn, I wish I’d made a real bet on that.”
Noah’s gaze swung toward the main doors, where a man walked in, dressed in a tux, his tie hanging loose around his neck. Now that his memory had been nudged, Noah remembered Phillips’s stats claimed him as part-Hispanic, part-Samoan. And he looked it at six and a half feet of bulk. Alarm tingled through Noah’s belly, and he glanced over at Julia again, who seemed oblivious to this turn of events. Events he wasn’t one hundred percent sure would be a problem. Even if the situation did turn bad between Phillips and Julia, Noah had no certainty that the story Tiffany had told was true.
“Excuse me,” Noah said. “I’m going to get a new drink.”
He needed room to think. To figure all this out. To understand why she’d kept it all from him. He understood these weren’t crowning achievements she would have wanted to brag about, but he thought they’d built a friendship. He thought there was trust between them. Hell, he’d told her about his white-trash family and his dyslexia. Half his closest friends didn’t know that shit.
At the bar, he requested a refill on his tonic water and lime, then tapped out another text: Come keep this lonely boy company at the bar.
But the sportscaster introduced Julia to another man, then drifted toward a different bar, one of the many in the club. She glanced at her phone, then over at Noah, at the exact moment Stella Dominic slid onto a barstool next to him. Goddammit all to hell.
He ignored Stella’s direct stare and tapped out another message; Wow. I couldn’t have timed that worse if I’d tried.
She read the message, grinned, but didn’t look at him again. She started chatting with the guy, who looked intently interested in Julia—hell, who wouldn’t be? He was clean-cut, midforties, nondescript brown hair, glasses. Probably with a sponsor company, because the guy had an ordinary build and wore khakis and a blazer.
“Don’t you look edible?” Stella said, then ordered a glass of burgundy from the bartender.
“Thanks. You look great too.” She wore the standard short black dress, but her body made the ordinary look spectacular. Tits the size of cantaloupes, junk in the trunk, and a small waist, she was curvy, curvy, curvy.
But all that interested Noah anymore was sliding against Julia’s toned, perfectly proportioned, tight little body.
“I came with Dalton Kennedy, but he’s being a royal ass tonight,” she said, her voice like smoke. “Tracy and I would love to hook up with you after this thing runs i
ts course.”
An offer for a threesome with two of the hottest women roaming this joint?
“Thanks,” he said, “but I’m tied up tonight.”
She picked up her wine, stepped close, and ran a provocative hand across his shoulder and down his arm. “Suit yourself. You know how to find me if you change your mind.”
She walked away, clearing his view of Julia. But there was no Julia.
Panic surfaced, and his gaze scanned for Phillips, who was holding court closer to the entrance, with no Julia in sight. He relaxed and searched again. She’d moved to a seating area and was giving the ordinary guy her rapt attention while he explained something that looked relatively serious. Her brow was furrowed, and she was leaning forward, as was he.
Noah typed: That looks serious. And sent the text.
Julia didn’t even glance at her phone. Dammit.
The guy looked like a brainiac. Was probably some crazy computer wizard at one of the startups like Guru or a big sponsor like Epic who was talking about technical things, complicated things. Things that challenged and inspired her. Things that Julia could relate to because she was so damned smart.
And then there was Noah, who’d barely made it out of high school. All he and Julia talked about were fitness, food, sports… He couldn’t even talk about sex with her anymore. Frustration boiled higher. Was she simply way out of his league? Was that why she’d fucked him when she’d never planned to see him again, then put the brakes on when that spark had potential?
God, his mind was spiraling out of control. But the animated way she’d gotten into this intense conversation with the guy Noah didn’t know was grating on him. Then the guy pulled a card and pen from his pocket, scribbled something, and handed it to her. Julia was smiling and nodding, and goddamned sonofabitch, if she’d accepted a date with that guy, Noah was going to implode.
Then she took another card from him, wrote something, and gave it back.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He texted her again. Did you just give that guy your number? Seriously?
She didn’t look at her phone this time either.
Noah blew out a breath and glanced around the club again. Things were in full swing. The space was packed with the elite, the powerful, the rich, the famous. Sponsors on every athlete’s top most-wanted list trolled the crowd.
His gaze caught on Phillips, and he followed the direction of the man’s attention—straight to Julia. Noah straightened. Someone was trying to talk to Phillips, but he wasn’t listening.
Noah tried another text.
Hey, beautiful. I need to talk to you about something important.
He waited and watched, but she seemed to be tying up her conversation with Mr. Ordinary, oblivious to Noah’s messages. Also oblivious to Phillips working the crowd on a path in her direction.
Noah picked up his drink and started that way, unsure if the hairs on the back of his neck should be standing up or if he was overreacting.
Phillips stopped in front of Mr. Ordinary and Julia before Noah could squeeze through the throng. He paused nearby as Phillips’s deep voice touched Noah’s ear.
“Tim,” Phillips said. “How’s your practice going?”
As the men chatted, Noah took a more diagonal approach, trying to get a better view of Julia. From this angle, it looked like Phillips’s position had trapped her in the chair.
“Excuse me,” Julia said, trying to stand. Phillips didn’t acknowledge her and shifted his body in a way that made Julia fall back into her seat.
“No way, asshole.” Noah plowed through the crowd, straight toward Julia with a one-track mind—get her out of there and set this Phillips guy straight. So what if he was four inches taller and seventy pounds heavier? No one pushed Julia around like that.
Right. No one pushes her around like that, so…why doesn’t she knee him in the balls?
The thought hit him just as his view of Julia cleared. She was pale, her face tense, making her eyes look huge.
Scared. She was scared.
That realization twisted something deep in Noah’s gut and propelled him through the crowd. But before he could reach the threesome, Julia touched Tim’s arm, drawing his attention. “Would you mind letting me up? I’d like to find the ladies’ room.”
“Oh, oh, of course, Julia. I’m so sorry.” Tim stood, stepped aside, and let Julia pass. He called after her, “I’ll call you.”
But she didn’t look back as she made a beeline for a hallway that led to the bathrooms.
Noah slowed his aggressive forward movement and exhaled in relief. He sidestepped groups and offered quick hellos to people he knew as he passed, working his way toward a seating area off the hall where Julia had disappeared. He wanted to be waiting for her when she came out.
There he milled, chatting with a few acquaintances until Finn spotted him and came over. “Jake and I are about ready to bail. Want to grab Julia and hit a bar with us?”
“That sounds good. I’ll ask her when she comes out of the bathroom, but she might be worn out by all this bullshit.”
Someone called to Finn. He said, “Text me when you’re ready,” and disappeared into the crowd.
Just as Noah turned toward the opening to the hallway, Phillips passed through and disappeared.
He suddenly had to take a leak too? What were the chances?
Noah eased to the opening and glanced around the wall. The hallway was empty except for Phillips, who was loitering. The women’s bathroom door opened, and Julia stepped out, head down as she zipped her purse.
Phillips turned, his big body blocking Julia’s path. “Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”
Julia’s head snapped up; her feet froze. The look that crossed her face could have been surprise or fear, but it was gone in an instant, leaving Noah unsure.
She straightened, pushed her shoulders back, and met Phillips’s gaze head-on. “Don’t do this. Not here. Not tonight.”
“I knew you’d come around, sugar tits,” Phillips said, his voice a deep baritone. “Took you long enough. But the stubborn ones are always worth the extra trouble.”
He ambled closer, and Julia put up her hand in a clear “stop” gesture. “Don’t touch me, or I will hurt you, Dirk.”
Noah started forward but got cut off by two tipsy women crossing the entrance to the hallway on their way toward a nearby bar.
Phillips laughed at Julia. “You think all hundred pounds of you could hurt me, bitch? Leave a scratch on me, and I’ll sue your tight little ass off. You lost your job and your reputation last time you dissed me. Do it again, and you’ll lose everything. I’ve got enough money and enough lawyers to bankrupt you a hundred times over. Now treat Dee Daddy right.”
Noah started down the hallway just as Julia took a step back and Phillips wrapped his meaty hand around her tiny wrist. He swung her around and slammed her back against the wall. A cry ebbed from Julia’s throat, and Noah rushed forward.
“Hey,” he said, coming up on Phillips. Julia’s attention swung his way, but Phillips was oblivious, leaning in to kiss her. “Back off.” Noah curled his hand around Phillips’s bicep and jerked it,only managing to garner a half glance.
“Get lost,” Phillips said. “This is private.”
Julia’s shoulders rocked with quick breaths. Her face was the same milky shade it had been on the plane when they’d taken off. “Noah, don’t—”
This time, Noah fisted Phillips’s jacket, making sure to get the shirt underneath, and hauled the guy backward. “I said, back the fuck off.”
Phillips stumbled a step, releasing Julia’s arm and swiveling on Noah with murder in his eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t you know who I am?”
“A sorry sonofabitch whose got to get his women by force, that’s who you are.”
“No, Noah,” Julia ordered. “Don’t. You’ll hurt your—”
Phillips responded just like every other bully Noah had ever met—and he’d met his share
growing up in the streets of Spokane. Phillips’s fist shot out in a right cross. Noah ducked, plowed his shoulder into Phillips’s sternum, and slammed the guy against the wall. Then planted his own fist in an upward thrust straight to Phillips’s balls.
Phillips grunted, doubled over, and dropped to his ass.
Noah reached for Julia, pulling her into step beside him as he walked her through the hallway, where a handful of guests looked on in alarm. “Go up front and wait by the door. I’ll be—”
One of the women on the sidelines asked, “What happened. Is he hurt?”
“He collapsed,” Noah said. “Go get security.”
She immediately obeyed his forceful direction. Phillips was recovering from the shock and started spitting out curses and threats. Noah gripped Julia’s arms and bent to look into her eyes, big and dark with shock. “Did you hear me? Front door. Have the valets call for the car. I’ll be right there.”
“Why?” Her brain was breaking through the shock, and now she looked both pissed and concerned. “Noah, I swear to God, if you hurt your leg—”
“I’ve got this.” Noah pushed her toward the front of the club. She hesitated, her face a mixture of anger and residual fear. “Go.”
She finally slipped into the crowd.
“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are,” Phillips rasped. “But your ass is mine.”
Noah gritted his teeth and turned back to Phillips where he was pushing himself up into a sitting position, clearly still in pain. Noah stopped five feet away. “You got that backwards, asshole. You attacked her. You threatened her. And you struck out at me first.” He crouched and lowered his voice. “The name’s Noah Hunt, and I’ve got just as much money and just as many lawyers as you’ve got. Plus, I’ve got witnesses. So, if you ever come within a hundred feet of her again, your ass is mine.”
Julia couldn’t control the shaking—a combination of fear, rage, and raw adrenaline.
The driver stood outside the car, waiting to open the door for Noah, and she took the moment alone to breathe deep and focus her mind, the way she used to before a competition. It helped, but not nearly as much as she’d hoped. The tremors still rattled through her.
