Her back tightened. He’d been so open and cheerful about his family that she envied him. Her family was filled with enough drama and secrets to warrant a reality TV show. “What do you mean?”
“Well, for starters, he never mentioned you before Saturday night.”
“I told you. Our father had some trouble keeping his zipper up. He had a fling with my mom while he was married to Tre’s mom.”
Frank nodded, the light in his eyes telling her he was grasping far more than he dared to say. Her mixed race was something she’d dealt with her whole life. Her mom had been blond and blue eyed, so as soon as people saw Kiana, they knew her father was black. Her mother’s backwoods Georgia family shunned her for her black blood, just like Tre and some members of her father’s family had shunned her for her white blood. She’d grown up caught in the middle of two worlds, never really accepted by either.
But the man staring back at her didn’t seem to curl his lip in disgust or crack a joke about her nappy hair. To him, it seemed she was more than just her race. He looked at her as though he saw beauty and nothing more.
“So did you grow up between households?” he asked, making it sound like her parents had been divorced and sharing custody.
If only it had been as simple as that. Her father spent years denying she was his, only to rescue her when she needed him the most. “No. I lived with my mother’s family until I was eight. Then Dad took me in.”
“And his wife was cool with that?”
She nodded, the corners of her mouth rising up into a smile. She’d much rather talk about her relationship with her stepmother than her half-brother. “Denise has a big heart and raised me like I was her own daughter. She told me that she’d forgiven him and wouldn’t hold his mistake against me.”
“Sounds like a good woman.”
“She is. She’s as much my mom as she is Tre’s.”
“Is she active with the foundation?”
Kiana nodded. “As much as she can be. I think she’s still grieving over Dad, and anything associated with it seems to dredge up old memories.”
“I can see that.” The serious Frank resurfaced for a moment. “My mom went through something similar after my dad passed away, but it gets better with time. I think keeping busy with her church and bridge club helped.”
“Not to mention keeping seven boys out of trouble.”
He laughed and covered her hand with his own. “Are you saying I’m trouble?”
“Most definitely.” She found herself leaning closer and closer to him until their lips were inches apart.
“But only the best kind, right?”
He had no idea how correct he was. She knew the danger of giving into temptation, and yet her lips longed to touch his. Her mind cautioned that one kiss would be the beginning of a slippery slope, but her body decided it would be worth the risk. She closed her eyes and closed the gap between them.
Frank’s lips were firm and demanding from the start, moving against hers with subtle variances of pressure that heated her blood and sent a thrill coursing through her veins. He kept the kiss in check, though, and that helped to rein in her own desires. They were in a public place, after all, and she needed to maintain her respectable image.
But damn, if they were behind closed doors, she definitely would’ve indulged in what he had to offer.
She caught the flash of a camera when she opened her eyes. The jolt chased away the warm, fuzzy feelings elicited by the kiss and left a chill of fear in its wake.
Frank laced his fingers through the hand he’d been holding and cupped her cheek with his other one. “Relax,” he said in a soft, soothing voice.
“But someone just took a picture of us kissing.”
“Um-hmm.” He placed another of those feather-light kisses on her forehead. “Let them. Remember your plan.”
Part of her wanted to pull away, but she feared what the repercussions might be if she did. “Did you just stage that kiss?”
“Nope.” But the mischievous twinkle in his eyes told her he might have had something to do with the photographer.
“Frank Kelly, you are something else.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” He placed one final kiss on the tip of her nose and pulled back. “Ready to go?”
She nodded, and he flagged the waitress for the check. Her stomach churned, and she only wished she could’ve blamed it on the deep-fried goodness she’d had for lunch. Just when she’d thought she’d figured him out, some new and unexpected facet appeared. Frank Kelly was proving to be as complex and dazzling as a brilliant cut diamond. But his charm had been so blinding that she’d almost fallen for what seemed to be nothing more than an act.
He paid the check and escorted her out of the restaurant, holding the door open for her. “I think that was one of the best lunches I’ve had in a long time.”
“Was that before or after dessert?” she asked with a healthy helping of attitude. She’d show him that she wasn’t as gullible as some of the other ditzes who’d fallen for his Romeo act.
“Dessert was on a whole other level.” He wrapped his arms around her, oblivious to the scene they were making on the sidewalk. “Don’t you agree?”
She started to push him away, but the second her hand touched the center of his chest, she felt the rapid thudding of his heart. Despite his teasing demeanor, he was either excited or scared. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether we’re still in the photographer’s lens.”
His laugh sounded a bit too tight to be casual. “Do you really care?”
She couldn’t answer him right away. Part of her did care. She wanted to be the face of a respectable charity foundation, not some D-list celebrity trying to raise her status by sleeping with A-listers. But when he closed the space between them until their foreheads met, the urge to kiss him again almost became unbearable. The man knew how to turn the sexy on like a light switch.
“Remember that I run a charity for children,” she said at last.
“Fine,” he said with a playful pout before pulling back and tapping his cheek with his finger. “But can you spare just one PG-rated kiss here?”
“Gladly.” She placed a peck on his cheek and waited for the next flash of a camera.
But it never came.
“Thank you.” Frank took her hand and started them back toward her office building.
“So that last kiss wasn’t for the camera?”
“Nope.” He gave her a cheeky grin. “That was purely for me. Any time I can get a lovely lady to kiss me, I’ll take it.”
A player, just like her father. At least he was being honest about it. She gave him a half-hearted punch in the arm, followed by a laugh. “Something tells me I’m going to have my hands full with you.”
“Oh, I’m more than a handful.” A playful wag of his eyebrows added an extra layer of innuendo to his statement. “But since I’m offering my support to your foundation, I’ll try to be respectable, too.”
When they got back to her office, he waved to Sherita and followed Kiana into her office, closing the door behind them. For a moment, she wondered if Frank was trying to steal more than a kiss now that they were behind closed doors, but instead of taking her into his arms, he pulled out a thumb drive. “Can I give you a few files to use for your campaign?”
“What kind of files?”
“Official pics, possible quotes.” He shrugged. “Stuff like that.”
“But I thought you wanted to do this fake dating thing for a while before jumping on board with the foundation.”
“I’ve seen enough already.” He offered her the thumb drive again.
She took it, offering a silent prayer it didn’t contain any viruses, and inserted it into the USB drive. After a quick scan for malware, she checked out the files. It contained various photos of Frank in his football uniform, just like he’d said. She clicked on one and stared at the stern countenance so at odds with the light-hearted man she’d just had
lunch with. The intense glare and hard jaw belonged to a man determined to get what he wanted.
“Yeah, I know, it looks scary, but I have a rep to maintain.” He took over her mouse and clicked on another photo. “I’m actually smiling in this one.”
She studied it for a moment before nodding. “I’ll use this one for the ads, then.”
She took the mouse back, saved the file on her computer, and then dragged the image to the ad she’d been working on before he arrived.
“Jesus, what is that?” he asked.
“An ad for the gala that I need to get to the newspaper by the end of the day.”
“Move over.” He didn’t wait for her to respond before rolling her chair out of the way and commandeering her computer. “Your spacing is all off.”
He made a few changes to the layout, and her curiosity was piqued enough to let him continue.
“Will this be a color ad or black and white?” he asked, continuing to make changes to the text.
“Color.”
“Then you need to add more colors that pop, like this.” He made the important text red with a golden outline, making it stand out more from the black text. “And, then, of course, you need the most important part.”
He grabbed the photo of himself and placed it in the ad. A few more tweaks later, he leaned back with a satisfied smile. “Now that’s more like it.”
She peered over his shoulder, her lips parting in a silent gasp. The ad looked far better than she could’ve hoped for. “Where did you learn how to do that?”
“I was a marketing major in college.” He smoothed his hands on his Notre Dame T-shirt and rose to his full height. “I may have left early to enter the draft, but I still learned a few useful things.”
She glanced at the ad one more time, marveling at how he’d turned it from something blah into something she could be proud of in only a few minutes. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Besides, if I’m going to put my pretty face on something, it had better look as good as me.”
And just like that, the cocky player had returned.
She bit back a laugh and gave him a dramatic sigh. “Yes, you have a rep to maintain.”
For a split second, his expression wavered, revealing a moment of hesitation and uncertainty. The cheeky grin took over again, but not before she’d gotten another glimpse of the man who lurked under the surface. Frank Kelly wasn’t all he appeared to be, and those brief revelations eased her fear of getting mixed up with him.
“Absolutely.” He took a step back and wiped his hands on his shirt again, his gaze never wavering from her lips. He removed the thumb drive. “I think we have enough to get the ball rolling.”
“More than enough.” Especially considering the fact a picture of them kissing over dessert might already be making the rounds on the Internet.
“Then I’ll check back with you next week and see if we can come up with some more ideas to promote the foundation.” He straightened his shoulders, erasing the traces of vulnerability he’d displayed moments before. “Until then, lovely lady.”
He left the office and said something to Sherita on the way out that set her friend off in a fit of girlish giggles. A minute later, Sherita popped into her office with a dreamy grin. “That man is all that and a bag of chips.”
“Oh, he’s more than just that.” She nodded to the computer screen. “Take a look at what he did.”
Sherita hustled over and let out a low whistle. “Brawn and brains.”
“With a side helping of trouble.” She saved the ad and sent the file to the local newspaper.
“Out with it.” Her friend leaned against the desk, one balled-up hand on her hip. “I want details.”
“We just had lunch.”
“And I don’t believe a word of that.”
One of the many problems with working with a friend who’d known her since high school. Sherita could spot a lie from her like a beautician could spot a bad weave job. But how much did she dare reveal about the fake romance she was trying to cultivate? “He flirted.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” She fanned herself like it was a sweltering ninety-degree day. “That man can get me hot and bothered with just a glance, but that still didn’t change the fact he was only interested in you.”
“He’s interested in me because I’m the head of the foundation,” Kiana replied, turning her attention to the emails that had arrived while she was gone.
“And I’m a virginal nun.” Sherita shifted until she blocked the computer screen, her arms locked across her chest in a way that said she wasn’t going to leave until she’d gotten all the juicy details.
Kiana leaned back in her desk chair with a groan. “Fine. I got him out of a bad situation in exchange for him helping me promote the gala.”
“And?”
“And part of the reason he took me out to lunch was because if we’re seen together in public, people will think we’re dating, and it will draw more attention to the foundation and clean up his image in the process.”
“Bullshit. That man has the hots for you, and he’s just playing along to get past your defenses.”
She sat up. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“When was the last time you went out on a date?”
She almost replied, “Just now,” but instead she said, “You know why I’m not in any hurry to let a man into my life.”
“No, you’re just hiding behind your kid. Besides, not every man is like Malcolm. Mr. Hottie there, for example—”
“Is called ‘Romeo’ by his teammates for a reason,” Kiana finished. “Besides, he has a temper, and I know better than to get involved with a man who knows how to throw a punch.”
Sherita’s posture went lax, and she hung her head. “Aw, sweetie, I didn’t mean it that way. I just think it’s time you get back out there and remember what it’s like to be a woman.”
“Are you saying I’m turning into some shriveled-up prune?”
“You said it. Not me.” Her friend pushed off the desk and made her way to the door. “But if I had a man like Frank Kelly chasing after me, I’d definitely indulge in a little fun while I could.”
Kiana waited until she was alone before opening up the photos Frank had placed on her hard drive. The smiling version seemed to match the man who’d danced with her in the club and flirted with her over lunch. Charming. Carefree. Confident.
But when she clicked on the stern-faced version, a shiver of fear raced down her spine. This was the man who had a reputation for knocking quarterbacks to the turf on Sundays. The man who’d beaten the crap out of Malcolm and his friend and sent them both to the hospital less than a week ago.
Her pulse jumped, and a metallic taste filled her mouth, reminding her of all the times Malcolm had hit her until she tasted blood. Her hand shook as she reached for the mouse. She closed the image before it triggered a panic attack.
She’d been fooled before, but she’d learned her lesson. As much as Frank Kelly intrigued her, she needed to stay far away from him.
Chapter Five
Frank lifted the barbell with a grunt. His pulse throbbed in his temples, and his lungs burned from the effort of bench pressing two hundred and twenty-five pounds. But dammit, he was going to get to forty reps.
He only got to thirty-two before a loud bang disrupted his concentration. The force of the metal door hitting the wall behind it echoed through the nearly empty weight room, followed by the pounding of heavy footsteps. Frank had barely replaced the barbell with the trainer’s assistance when Tre’s angry faced loomed over him.
“What’s going on with you and my sister?”
Frank’s blood chilled, and a cold sweat added to the perspiration already covering his skin from his workout. The trainer wisely ducked out of the room, but there was no escape for him. He kept his voice nonchalant in the hope it would cool his friend’s ire. “What are you talking about?”
“This.” Tre pulled out a full-page ad from yester
day’s newspaper and poked his finger right in the middle of Frank’s smiling face on it.
His anxiety waned, and he sat up slowly, wiping his face with a towel. At least Tre didn’t know about the kiss. He’d asked the photographer he’d planted in the restaurant to hold off on releasing the pictures of him with Kiana. Not that it didn’t keep him from pulling them up on his phone a dozen times this weekend. They looked good together. Real good. But until he got the green light from her, he was willing to respect her privacy.
“She asked me if I’d be willing to help promote your father’s foundation, and I said sure.”
A muscle rippled along Tre’s jaw, and his hands bunched into fists, crumpling the newspaper in the process. “Fine. But keep your hands off her—understand?”
“And if she can’t keep her hands off me? After all, she was the one who contacted me.”
The veins along Tre’s neck started to protrude, and Frank forced a laugh to break up the tension. “Relax, bro. I’ll behave. Kiana’s a class act, and I admire her for taking over your father’s work. She’s not fling material.”
“Damn right, she’s not.” He flung the paper down and turned away, but not before Frank got the sense there was something else upsetting his teammate. The seconds ticked by, though, and Tre’s fingers slowly uncurled, releasing his anger with them. “Besides, what am I worried about? I’ve already warned her about you, and she’s smart enough to keep you at arm’s length. You ain’t got a chance with her. She’ll push you away before letting you get too close.”
“Gee, thanks.” Frank took a healthy chug from the bottle of Gatorade beside him. “Just don’t ruin my chances with the rest of the ladies.”
“That’s all on you.” Tre nodded toward the barbell. “And what are you doing here, anyway? It’s the off season.”
“Just trying to stay in top form.” Frank stood and moved to the leg press machine. “The draft’s coming up in a couple of weeks, and I want to make sure some rookie doesn’t strip me of my starting position.”
“Whatever, man.” Tre tried to make light of the situation, but a hint of worry laced his words. If anyone was in danger of being cut, it was him.
In the Red Zone Page 4
