Quarterback Casanova (Kansas City Griffins #1)

by Lisa Rayne

  The click of the lock turning on her side sounded then the sliver of light under the door went dark. He placed his forearm against the door and dropped his head against it. Her face when she’d talked about his college legacy flashed through his mind. He hadn’t realized she believed that much in him—or rather, in his abilities. It was heady stuff, this feeling that someone had unflappable faith in you. He’d forgotten what it felt like … until tonight.

  Yes, he’d made the decision to end things between them. For the first time, he regretted that decision. “No,” he whispered aloud. He wouldn’t let regret take hold; he couldn’t let himself fall under her spell again.

  Tomorrow, they’d arrive in Ibiza and he’d commence his plan to purge himself of her demons for good. She’d put him off tonight, but it would be the last time.

  *

  Naomi took Dash’s hand and let him pull her from the taxi in front of the posh Ibiza resort the next day. A wall of glass marked the entrance and slid open automatically at the center when approached. The overhead awning offered the only shade in the sun-drenched location. The orange and blues and greens of the tropical flora gracing the front landscape preened in Technicolor brilliance.

  A valet came forward and scooped up the luggage planted side-by-side on the ground by the cabbie. “Welcome back, sir,” the valet said to Dash. “Always good to see you again.”

  The valet headed into the hotel with their luggage.

  Naomi looked at Dash.

  “Don’t look at me. I’ve never seen the guy before.” He stared after the valet in disbelief.

  “Well, he sure seemed to know you.” She walked past him, and followed the valet and their luggage to the checkin counter.

  Dash joined her at the counter. Completing ignoring Naomi’s presence, the woman behind the counter smiled at Dash. Her welcoming look offered more than good customer service. “Hello, sir. Are you staying in your usual suite?”

  “Um …” Dash glanced at Naomi. He looked like he’d stepped into The Twilight Zone.

  The receptionist’s hands flew over the keyboard for the reservation system. She frowned. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t seem to have a reservation for you starting tonight.”

  Naomi presented their confirmation ticket. “Here. I don’t believe the reservation was made through the usual channels.”

  The woman took the sheet and read. Her eyebrows rose, and she gave Naomi an assessing once over. “I see.”

  The hostess’s fingers flew over the keyboard again then she programmed two electronic keys and slid them across the counter. “Here are the keys to your adjoining suites.” Her eyes flicked to Naomi’s as she said the words adjoining suites, not even pretending to give a fake smile. Her eyes warmed when she turned her gaze back to Dash. “As always, please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you during your stay.” She managed to give him another smile that looked more like an invitation. “Anything at all.”

  Hello! Naomi thought. Am I not standing here?

  While she and Dash weren’t actually a couple, this twit didn’t know that. The need to put the brazen hussy in her place made Naomi put her left arm around Dash’s waist. She leaned into him and placed her right hand on his chest. “I’m sure he appreciates the offer.” The look she gave the heifer behind the desk was the furthest thing from a smile. “But I’ve got him covered. Thanks anyway.”

  Naomi grabbed both keycards off the counter. When she glanced up, Dash’s amused expression made her want to smack him. She stormed over to the elevator bay and stabbed the call button.

  Dash followed her, a smirk of satisfaction on his face. “So you’ve got me covered, huh?”

  “Don’t let it go to your head. It wasn’t personal.”

  He leaned against the wall. That satisfied look getting bigger. “Seemed pretty personal to me. Jealous?”

  She scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s the principle of the thing. I can’t stand women who flirt with a man when the woman he’s with is standing right there.”

  The elevator dinged and its doors opened.

  “But we’re not together, Naomi.” Dash held the door at bay so she could enter.

  Her glower pierced him as she slid past. “She didn’t know that.” She stabbed the button to their floor. “The twit.”

  He chuckled at her indignation, and she turned on him. “Don’t make me hurt you, Janssen. I don’t appreciate being laughed at.”

  He raised his hands palms out. “I’d never laugh at you, sweetheart.” He leaned in. “If the situation were reversed, I’d have been jealous, too.”

  His words skipped over her and jacked up her pulse. They rode in silence all the way to their floor. By the time the elevator bounced to a stop and Dash exited in front of her, she had a warning voice whispering in her head: You are in so much trouble, Naomi Pellier. What were you thinking?

  She caught up with Dash at the doors to their suites. A bellman waited with him. Dash took his keycard from her and opened his door.

  The bellman followed them into the room and unloaded Dash’s luggage. “Shall I take the lady’s things next door, sir, or shall I leave them here with you.”

  “Leave them. I’ll take care of it,” Dash said.

  The man placed Naomi’s luggage on the floor and accepted the tip Dash handed him. He bowed and gave a big grin. “Thank you, sir. And welcome back.”

  After the man departed the room, Dash turned to her. “What the hell is wrong with all these people?”

  She studied him, looking for signs of prevarication. “Are you sure you’ve never been here before?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re joking right?”

  “Dash, that guy was happy with your generous tip, but he wasn’t surprised by it. You don’t just look like someone they know, you’re also acting like him.”

  He stepped up to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Listen to me.” He leaned till they were eye to eye. “I’ve never been here before. I’d never heard of Ibiza before three days ago in DuChamps’s office. I’ve never kissed a man. Or let a man kiss me.” His voice rose. “I’m not gay. I’m not bisexual. Right now, what I am is confused as hell.” He shook her once. “And if you continue to doubt me, I’m going to completely lose it and go find the nearest bar where I can pick a fight and proceed to beat the crap out of someone.” He released her, and threaded both hands into his hair. “At this point, it won’t matter who. Anyone will do.”

  His eyes bored into hers with a frustration that matched his voice. He waited for her to respond in some manner.

  “I’m sorry, Dash.” She moved closer to him. “I believe you. I had to ask though. You understand that, right?”

  He huffed out a sigh. “Yeah, I know. It doesn’t make this any easier.”

  He walked over to the bed and sat. After a few seconds, he flopped backwards onto the bed and spread his arms as if about to make a snow angel. “If the intent of whomever is behind this was to drive me batshit crazy, it’s working.” Both his hands came up and raked over his face.

  She moved to the edge of the bed and looked down at him. “Then what are you lying there for?”

  He dropped his hands to look at her.

  “How about we change out of these clothes and go figure out what’s going on? That way, you can at least beat the crap out of someone who deserves it.”

  “I like the sound of that.” He sat up, reaching for her hand. “Have I ever told you how much I love the tough girl side of you?”

  She laughed and tried to pull away from him. “No. You haven’t.”

  He tugged her hand, making her fall across his lap. “I do.” He steadied her and looked into her eyes, those amber orbs piercing her. “A man like me appreciates a woman with a little scrap in her. You’re one in a million, Naomi Pellier. Thanks for believing in me.” His head dipped towards her.

  She averted her head before his lips reached hers and jumped out his lap. “You’re welcome.”

  She rushe
d to her suitcase and grabbed up the telescoping handle. “I’m going to change and make a few phone calls. I’ll meet you back here in about an hour.” She didn’t wait for his response. She hurried through the adjoining door to her suite, making sure to lock the door behind her.

  *

  After a shower, Dash changed into a Ralph Lauren t-shirt and linen pants with cuffs that rolled up to mid-calf. Brown leather sandals on his feet, he stood staring out the window waiting for Naomi’s return. He thought about her easy acceptance of his declaration that he hadn’t been here before. Faced with all these people who seemed to know him, she’d shown remarkable faith for a woman he’d dismissed when she’d asked him to do the same for her.

  Guilt gnawed at him.

  Initially, he’d looked at this trip as simply a way to get her in bed. His body still wanted her. He had chocked that up to basic chemistry, a simple case of lust, but this pull he felt came from someplace other than pure hormonal overload.

  Twice now, he’d gone to kiss her without conscious thought. The urge hadn’t been a precursor to getting laid. He’d wanted to feel his lips against hers, plain and simple. He’d wanted the connection. He’d wanted that connection specifically with her. Yet, she hadn’t welcomed his advances. In fact, fifty minutes ago, she’d fled from him like he carried the bubonic plague.

  He glanced over at the locked door between their suites. He’d told himself his goal was to make sure that door stayed open between them so he could seduce her. Now, he questioned whether he truly wanted events to play out that way.

  He’d never thought he’d want her back—not all of her. Want more than just her body. Want her heart and her loyalty and her soul. After the jealousy that had tap danced all over his ego the day he’d seen her with Shave Stephens, he wasn’t so sure any longer.

  He paced to the center of the room and then back to the window.

  Peyton had warned him he wouldn’t be able to move on if he didn’t hear Naomi out about the article she wrote with her colleague about Dash’s life in foster care. Maybe it was time he listened to his foster sister’s advice.

  What if he’d wrongly accused Naomi? Had he gone through this distance from her for nothing?

  After he’d pushed her out of his life, he’d felt a depth of loneliness he hadn’t experienced since before he’d aged out of the foster care system and bonded with his college teammates. It had shaken him. He wasn’t interested in anything permanent with a woman. He accepted that much about himself. Having never had a real family, he had no illusions that he’d make any kind of family man.

  Even after he’d made it to the pro league, his mindset hadn’t changed. Women came after him all the time, but they were after the image, the glamour, the bank account. None of them really saw him: mediocre student; guy with a temper; at home as much in the middle of a brawl as on the gridiron.

  What did he know about commitment? About being the kind of guy a woman could count on and would be proud to walk beside even if he weren’t wearing a league uniform?

  The only woman who’d ever made him feel like he was more than his quarterback position was currently changing her clothes on the other side of a door she’d locked to keep him out. She didn’t trust him not to use her for sex, and he didn’t trust he was more to her than a story.

  The door opened behind him, and he turned to watch Naomi stride back into the room wearing a sundress filled with orange and yellow flowers against a white background. Everything in him stood at attention. The orange-painted toes displayed by her braided, gold leather sandals gave him wicked ideas involving honey and her laid out on a bed with those toes in his mouth.

  Maybe for the time being, he could pretend they had more between them than a photographic mystery. If he could have her back in his life for a while, maybe he could knock off the chip that had crept back onto his shoulder over the last few years. She used to silence the voices that niggled at him. He had to find out if she could silence them again.

  To get that opportunity, he’d have to address more than the lock status of the adjoining suite door. He’d have to brave the conversation he’d been avoiding. She’d given him the benefit of the doubt in this photo matter. He couldn’t be so petty as to refuse to do the same for her.

  He escorted her from the room. They had some footwork to do at the moment. As soon as he got the chance, he was going to find a secluded spot for them to sit down and talk.

  Chapter 9

  Face raised towards the sun, Naomi waltzed out the hotel’s front entrance as Dash held the door for her. “What a beautiful day for a walk on the beach.” She spun in a circle. “I may never leave here.”

  When she stopped spinning, Dash stared at her with a strange look on his face.

  “What?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted, causing one of his dimples to pop. “Your hem rises when you do that. It kinda gets to a man.”

  She smoothed down the skirt of her dress and looked around. Several men watched her with amused looks on their faces.

  She blushed. “Now you tell me.”

  He leaned towards her. “Sweetheart, you have the best thighs on the island. Why on earth would I deny myself that view?”

  She turned towards the promenade and mumbled under her breath, “How could people possibly think a man who hounddogs women the way you do is gay?”

  He chuckled, slid on his sunglasses, and fell in beside her. “So, what’s first on your agenda?”

  “I did a little research. I have an approximate location for where that photo was taken. Let’s head that way and see what we can find.”

  “Sounds good.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled quietly beside her. His lips flattened and the serious expression that overtook his face made him appear unapproachable.

  “You know, we’ll probably get more cooperation if we act like a couple of tourists rather than a reporter and a guy with an axe to grind.” She glanced at his preoccupied face. “So try to look like you’re happy to be here with me.”

  “I am happy to be here with you. The circumstances that brought us here, however, are less than desirable.” Dash grabbed her hand and pulled her against him, placing a quick kiss—she didn’t see coming—on her lips. “How’s this?”

  She pushed him back a space. “Don’t oversell it.”

  He smiled. As they strolled towards the promenade, he continued to hold her hand. The warmth of his touch seeped through her palm, and sent a mellow contentment through all layers of her skin. Disengagement from his touch should have been her first thought, but the urge succumbed to the amicable bliss she hadn’t felt in three long years.

  Hand-in-hand, they hit the shoreline and cruised through several shops. They didn’t run into any more people who thought they knew Dash nor find anything helpful to their search. The afternoon sun moved along the sky, and they meandered along at an unhurried pace. They fell into a pattern of easy existence reminiscent of old times.

  Naomi noticed lots of men watching Dash as the two of them progressed. True to form, if it didn’t wear a skirt, Dash didn’t bother looking. By the time they hit the fifth shop, Dash finally caught on to the attention. The look on his face when he realized men were checking him out nearly made Naomi break into a fit of laughter. She squashed the urge. Dash wouldn’t have appreciated the sentiment.

  When they exited the last shop, a man on the way in winked at Dash. Naomi covered her mouth when Dash’s head whipped around in a double take. The man had turned as well to get an eyeful of Dash’s behind. Catching Dash’s look, he said, “Lookin’ good, big guy,” and winked at Dash a second time.

  The giggle that slipped out beneath Naomi’s hand drew Dash’s attention back to her.

  “That is not funny.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her the rest of the way out of the store.

  “I thought it was pretty funny.” Her giggles continued to trickle out.

  Dash pulled his sunglasses off the front of his shirt and put them on. “That guy was staring at
my ass.”

  “Why not? It’s a pretty spectacular ass. Women stare at it all the time.”

  “What? Hardly.”

  She snorted. “It was certainly one of the first things I noticed about you. You think football draws female fans simply because we enjoy the athleticism?”

  He stared at her, lines forming in the middle of his forehead.

  “Don’t be obtuse, Dash.” She shook her head. “No. Definitely not. Even those of us who love the sport as much as men greatly appreciate the bonus of getting to stare at players’ asses in those tight pants.”

  She flounced away with a switch of her hips, and Dash burst out laughing. He followed quickly and slid an arm around her waist. “Well, it’s nice to know that I’m appreciated for everything I bring to the sport.”

  “Trust me.” She spun into his hold and gave him an appreciative once over with her eyes. Patting his chest, she said, “Everything you bring to the game is much appreciated … big guy.”

  “Is that right?” Dash’s grip on her tightened.

  Naomi realized her mistake almost too late. The sunglasses didn’t hide the predatory look that slunk onto his face. She could literally see him gearing up for a kiss.

  She extricated herself from his embrace only a second before he made his move. She took slow steps backwards. “Oh no you don’t. Not again.”

  He took slow steps forward. His husky voice taunted her. “Where do you think you’re going? It’s not like you can get away from me if I decide I want you.”

  Her eyebrows rose in open defiance, but her internal sage analyzed the busy concrete promenade in conjunction with her sandals and figured he was right.

  But on the beach …

  Her head turned to survey the sand.

  With a head start …

  In an unpredictable burst of optimism, she whipped off her sandals and sprinted for the beach.