He tossed the phone on the nightstand and lay on the bed, feeling lost and alone for the first time in a long, long while.
* * * *
Three days later, Marc lay in the middle of that same bed, smelling the pillow Sofia had rested her head on. There was no doubt in his mind that he had gone off the deep end. Sofia’s abandoned robe still hung on the back of the bathroom door. It still smelled of her, too. She’d left behind a book she’d been reading, and each time he glanced at it, he thought of her.
He’d worked out, ate, and slept since she’d gone, but it had just been him going through the motions. He wanted her back, but knew he’d destroyed what little they’d shared.
His phone rang, and he grabbed it quickly, hoping it was Sofia.
It was Max.
“Hello?”
“Hey, buddy, I got you a meeting with the commissioner. It took a lot of salesmanship, but I think he’s finally willing to listen.”
“That’s great,” Marc said, not feeling as excited as he probably should.
“You don’t sound impressed, Marc. I busted my ass for this, so get packed and back to New York ASAP. The meeting is tomorrow afternoon, so you need to get your ass in gear.”
“You got it,” Marc answered, his heart suddenly not in the game.
He hung up and tossed the phone to the side of him before he rose from the bed and started gathering his belongings. Marc stopped, realizing he needed a shower and a shave. He walked into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like shit, which was perfect because he felt like shit. Three days of beard growth and dark circles under his eyes weren’t a good look for a meeting with the commissioner. Marc fished out his razor and shaving cream, the movements rote.
When he looked back into the mirror, he realized a part of him was lost. After she’d left, he’d sort of shut down. Now he was The Iceman, completely numb.
He spread the cream over his beard and started shaving, wondering what the hell he was going to do to get his fire back.
Marc wanted to go to Sofia, to beg her forgiveness, but he had a plane to catch for New York. And once he went back to the real world, what would become of them?
Chapter Fourteen
Sofia glanced at the laptop’s screen as she lounged on the veranda of her parents’ home. She’d run back to daddy when all else failed. The disconnect with Marc had illuminated the disconnect she had with her entire life. She wasn’t happy, so she needed to find what it was she wanted.
She’d modeled for her mother. She’d taken the reporting gig to make her father happy and to get away from modeling. Now it was time to consider what she wanted to do with her life. The game on the beach had rekindled her love of soccer, even if it had been the start to the downfall of that relationship. It had reminded her of the excitement and her love of the game.
Sofia had always dreamed of sharing that love and excitement. She wanted to coach. And she wanted to go to college, like she’d planned. She’d saved enough money to pay tuition to a reasonably priced university and her expenses for the years it would take her if she budgeted carefully. And she’d do it on her own, without her family’s help. Her father couldn’t demand anything of her if she’d made her own way. Sofia could finally start living the life she’d wanted for herself.
A sudden thought hit her. She’d been trying to appease everyone but herself her entire life. Her mother, her father, and now Marc.
Marc.
She glanced at the screen again. Loyola. In Baltimore. Even in her decision to be stronger and live her own life, she was looking at colleges close to him. She missed Marc. It had only been a little over a week they’d shared together, but the connection she’d felt was timeless. The flirting over the months in the locker rooms, the underlying lust as they’d sparred with one another had culminated into this strange week of altered reality. They’d lived in a bubble where no one, not even time had gotten to them.
Marc had pushed her to extremes, and she’d loved every minute of it. On that final night, he’d pushed too far and she’d not felt safe enough. He’d thrown her over the edge without a safety line, and it had scared her.
The act itself had been sexually stimulating. But without knowing where his head was, or what he might do to her, her trust had been shattered.
Did he care that she’d run from him? It had been three days since she’d left, and she hadn’t heard a peep. At first, she’d appreciated the quiet, allowing her to reflect. Now, she felt the chasm between them grow even wider, the tears in their relationship widening as well.
Sofia entered Marc’s name into the search box and hit Enter. His handsome face, in his football jersey, smiled back at her. Tingles of desire rushed through her body at the memory of his hands on her. He knew every single inch of her body, and the sight of his picture was enough to cause a physical response. She sighed, wondering how long it would take to get Marc Anders out of her system.
A little news story caught her attention. She clicked on it and read the headline. Anders Rumored to Meet Commissioner.
She briefly read the first few lines of copy.
Baltimore Outside Tackle and Defensive End Marc Anders is rumored to be returning to New York today to meet with the commissioner of the NFL. The meeting, alleged to be about his early return after his six-week suspension, is a shock to no one as the fans have aggressively demanded their favorite Baltimore player return to the field. Anders was slapped with that suspension rather harshly, some say, as a signal to others in the league that unsportsmanlike behavior would not be tolerated. Fans won’t be discounted, many of them screaming their support and demanding player Brian Brooks deserved the punishing blow Anders gave him on the field.
Brooks sat out one game, but has since returned to the field amongst boos from his own home team fans.
Snapping the laptop closed, she sat it on the lounger beside her and looked up to the sun trying to penetrate the clouds. Marc was returning to his reality while she was still clamoring trying to figure out what was going on in her own life. He had probably already forgotten her, ready to head back to Baltimore and his team.
“I thought I saw you out here,” a male voice called, drawing her out of her self-pitying. Sofia looked at the French doors and saw her brother stagger out, his futbol uniform a mess. He was muddy and grass stained, but a wide smile stretched his handsome face as if he didn’t look a sight. “Do you want to have dinner with me in the square tonight? I’m meeting a few friends there later.”
She smiled. Her brother had been trying to get her to come out of the house the last couple of days, but she hadn’t let him. She needed the quiet to think. “Not tonight, but I hope you have fun.”
Angelo sat down next to her laptop, bits of dirt and grass falling off him. She cringed at the thought of what the house looked like. Even now their housekeeper was more than likely cursing him under her breath. “I’m worried about you. You need to forget this man that’s twisted your head.”
Sofia frowned. How had Angelo known? “I never said it was a man.”
“There’s someone who’s broken your heart. I can see it in your eyes. And when you’re ready to tell me who it is, I’ll go break something of his for you.”
Sofia chuckled. “Just leave him be. He’s not worth your effort.”
Angelo frowned, his fists clenching. “So I was right?”
There was no reason not to share a little with Angelo. He’d been her shoulder too many times not to unload some of the emotional baggage she now carried. “You were right, but there’s no reason to attack. I let things go too far and started having feelings he didn’t return.”
“Who wouldn’t have feelings for a woman as beautiful and intelligent as you?” Angelo asked. “The man’s an idiot.”
That last bit was an understatement, but she’d been an idiot, too.
The housekeeper came to the edge of the veranda. “Sofia, hay alguien en la puerta para usted.”
Someone was at the door for her?
Who? No one knew she’d returned home.
She stood and slowly made her way to the front door. Opening it, she sucked in a breath, her heart beating rapidly in her chest.
“Please let me talk,” Marc said, his face ashen. “Ten minutes is all I ask.”
Sofia leaned into the doorframe, her knees ready to give out. Wait, wasn’t he supposed to be somewhere else? “I thought you were in New York, meeting with the commissioner?”
His face was emotionless. “There was something more important.”
More important than football? Sofia knew he had to be kidding. He wanted back on that field more than anything.
Yet here he was. At her door.
“Can I come in?” he asked impatiently.
She stepped back to let him pass and saw her brother standing at the edge of the foyer, glaring at Marc.
“Is this the cabrón?” Angelo asked.
Marc turned to look at Angelo, his shoulders stiffening. “What did you call me?”
Angelo rushed closer, getting into Marc’s face. Marc had her brother by a good inch or two, but Angelo wouldn’t back down in the face of a fight, especially if he was protecting his little sister. “I called you a cabrón. You know, a bastard, asshole, shithead, whichever expletive you want to use.”
“I know what the word means.” Marc got face to face with Angelo, his shoulders lifting as he glared at her brother. Suddenly, before Sofia could get in the middle of the two, Marc backed off and turned to look at Sofia. “Yeah, I am a cabrón.”
Angelo frowned, apparently as shocked as Sofia was to hear the comment.
“I was a total asshole to your sister, and I’m here to apologize to her. It’s the least I can do.”
Angelo looked between Sofia and Marc. His body relaxed a tiny bit, but Angelo was still on guard. “Do you want to hear his apologies, Sofia, or do you want me to throw his ass out of the house?”
Sofia loved her brother so much for protecting her, but this was her battle. “I’ll listen to his apologies. But stay close, I might want you to throw him out after.”
Angelo nodded and then backed off, glaring at Marc the entire time he left.
Marc spun to face Sofia and caught her gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“For?” she asked, needing to know exactly what it was he was sorry for. There was no way she was going to make this easy for him.
“For using my feelings as a weapon against you.”
Her eyes widened with that. “What?”
“The night you left, you hurt me. When I overheard that phone call, it stung to hear you say you were going to do the story after all. I believed you when you said you weren’t going to write it, but the hurt lingered. I needed to exert control, because the feelings I have for you were spiraling out of control.”
Her chest tightened. “What feelings?”
“At the time, I didn’t know. I really still don’t, not completely. But it was more than a simple sexual relationship. You weren’t just my mistress.”
She prodded him, needing more than that. “That’s not enough. What do you feel for me?”
Marc stared at her, silent several heartbeats. “I don’t do emotions. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Is it so hard? If it is, maybe it’s not right. I won’t force you to feel something you don’t.”
Sofia turned from him and walked to the door, opening it for him in a silent plea for him to leave. Seeing him broke her heart, and she knew he’d come here instead of New York. But if he wasn’t willing to say what he felt or why he’d come to her, then it was all for naught.
“When you were on the beach, while we were playing, your smiles were so large and the happiness you felt was infectious. In that moment you were the most beautiful creature I’d ever laid eyes on. I want to be the man who makes you smile like that every single day. And that scares the shit out of me.”
“Scares you?”
“I seduced you and asked you to be my mistress to stop you from writing that damned story—and because I wanted you. I wanted sex. But that desire I’ve felt for you for months now has grown into something bigger. Sex isn’t enough. I put relationships on hold so I could focus on my career. Now I’m so out of the habit, so closed off from other people, I don’t know what to do with these feelings I have. I’m an asshole and more than likely, I’m going to piss you off again, which led me to close back down instead of open to you.”
“Relationships can’t be one sided. The Iceman can’t stay frozen.”
Marc looked down at the floor then back up to her. “I want to open up to you. I’ve never done it before, so I don’t know how well I’ll do it, but I want to try.”
“How do I know you won’t hurt me again?”
Marc looked around the foyer, seemingly at anything but her. Finally he gazed at her, taking her hands in his. “I’ve spent the last ten years focused on my career, using women as I needed. I’ve been alone all that time and enjoyed it. The minute you left, I felt … lonely. I wanted you back. I almost ran after you to beg you to stay. I need you back in my life.”
I need you back in my life. Her heart sped up as she considered everything he’d said.
“This need you have, to exert control—it will come up again.”
“I broke the golden rule. I made it about me instead of about you. And for that, I can’t even begin to apologize.”
“You can live without it?” Her trust was broken. It would take time for her to ever consider him trying something like that again. If she agreed to give them a second try.
He seemed to completely understand her question. “For you? Yes. I would never ask you to do anything you didn’t want to.”
She watched him. His face was a contorted mask of sadness and reflected the same pain she’d felt since she left him. “Where does this leave us?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I’m going to catch hell for not going to that meeting, so I’m fairly sure my exile will continue. Do you have to go back to the States for work?”
Was he hinting he wanted to know if she’d written the story or not? “I no longer work there. I refused to write a story they demanded I write.”
Their eyes met.
“I can’t believe you came here instead of New York.”
He grinned. “I realized I could live without football. But I didn’t want to live without a chance to know you better.” He stepped closer and slowly lowered his head until their lips were inches apart. “A world where I can’t kiss you every single day seems dreary.”
Marc’s lips gently pressed against hers. The kiss started gently, but soon grew fiery. His hands gripped her waist and pulled her closer. Her body tensed, the need firing her blood overwhelming. She wanted him, then and there, but it was impossible. Sofia pushed him away and looked about to make sure no one had seen them.
“You okay out there, Sofia?” her brother called.
“Yes, good,” she yelled out before looking up at Marc. “Where are you going from here?”
Marc smiled. “Wherever you are.”
She grinned up at him and slipped into his embrace. She felt the warmth of his body seeping into hers, knowing she was exactly where she belonged. Marc still had some making up to do, but she trusted him enough to give him the chance to prove himself to her.
Sofia had glimpsed a little of his thawed heart and wanted to see how The Iceman would look completely unfrozen.
Chapter Fifteen
“I’m so glad you didn’t give up the villa,” Sofia said, the bellhop bringing her bags back in. It was the same sweet man who’d taken her bags out the night she’d fled. He grinned at her after depositing her bags back in the room.
Marc handed the man some cash, and he left them. “I wasn’t sure where I’d go after I saw you. I had no way to know which way things would turn out.”
She looked over the space. Somehow, it seemed different. They’d spent the long plane ride talking. He’d apologized over and over again, but it was a matter
of put up or shut up. They had a few weeks of his exile to play out, and she wouldn’t be able to start school until the spring semester anyway, if that’s the direction she went, so they had a little time.
Why not throw themselves back in the fishbowl and see if it could be different this time, with them both being honest about how they felt.
Marc leaned against the bar island and watched her, seemingly as unsettled as she was. Her eyes caught sight of the freshly made bed and saw the cuffs were still in the middle of the headboard.
An idea sprung into her mind.
She glanced over his hard body, from head to toe and back up again. He wore a simple pair of cargo pants and a t-shirt, with flip-flops on his feet. Marc wasn’t a flip-flops kind of guy, and it made her chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Those shoes. They aren’t you. Take them off.”
The barked command almost threw her for a loop. She’d said it much more firmly than she’d felt.
He eyed her for a moment, then seemed to think it over. He kicked off the shoes and turned to her. “Better?”
“Take off the rest.”
His chest rose and fell a little more rapidly as she watched him. His gaze took in everything. Marc finally pulled his t-shirt over his head and then tugged his pants off. He wore no underwear, so he was completely naked.
“Go get on the bed. Lie down on your back.”
“This got us in trouble last time, Sofia.”
She nodded her head. “Last time, you took from me without giving. This time, I’m going to take my pleasures from you. Then we’ll be even.”
“That’s not how this works,” he said, his voice low. “But if that’s what you want, and what you need, then I’ll do it.”
Marc ambled into the bedroom and pulled the bedding back. He lay down in the middle of the bed and lifted his wrists closer to the cuffs.
Sofia followed him in and affixed the cuffs just as he’d done. Now he was under her control. She could take what she needed from him, knowing she had the power.
Tackling Her Heart Page 10
