by Debra Kayn
“Yeah, sounds good.” He looked up as a woman passed him, giving him an interested look. He smiled politely as he talked with Gary. “Want me to reserve a room for you?”
“No, I fly out late the same night. On my way to a game,” Gary said.
The woman sat down in the cushioned chairs in front of the window. She smiled and crooked her finger at him. He raised his brow and pointed to his chest. She nodded. He held up a finger to signal he’d be there in a few minutes.
“Okay, so give me a call the closer the day comes to remind me.” Juan headed across the lounge. “I’m glad you called.”
Gary roared with laughter. “Go be with your wife, Santiago.”
He stopped at the reminder that he was married. “Later.”
What the hell was he doing? He glanced at the woman, pivoted, and walked away.
A hand slipped behind his elbow. “Whoa there, sexy. Don’t run away too fast.”
The woman slid up against him. She was attractive — tall for a woman and, if he had to guess, artificially enhanced. From the hair extensions to her breasts, she yelled wealth and plastic surgeons. A typical snow bunny.
“I’ve heard it’s customary for women to buy the first drink around here.” She trailed her finger down his chest. “You look like a man who could use a bourbon on the rocks.”
Her flowery scent overpowered him. He extracted his arm from her grasp, but she quickly tucked her fingers into his back pocket. Instead of amusement over her attempt to seduce him, he found her fake and pathetic.
“I wish I could, sweetheart.” Juan pulled her hand out of his jeans and held it between both of his. “But I have a — ”
“Wife.” Dana’s voice came from behind him.
He spun around and smiled. “Yes! My wife. How — ” he kissed her forehead, “are you, babe? All warmed up?”
Dana refused to look at him and instead stared the other woman down. “Yes. I’m hot. So hot, honey, that I’m wondering what you’re doing with — ” she pointed, “her.”
“Wife?” The woman backed away. “I thought you were single.”
“Obviously.” Dana laughed, and the response warned him he was in deep shit.
Okay, he’d noticed the woman, checked her out, but he wasn’t going to do anything. He had to work his fans, keep them psyched, and motivate the youth … although the woman was over the age of twenty-one, right? He peered closer and exhaled in relief. She was an adult.
Socializing was what he got paid to do, and harmless flirting was part of the job.
He looped his arm around Dana’s shoulders and swayed her away from the front of the lodge. For his health, he ignored the other woman. He wasn’t stupid. His wife was pissed.
“I thought you were staying in the room and waiting for me.” He pushed the elevator button.
“You thought wrong.” Dana crossed her arms.
“Babe … ” he said. “You’re my wife. That woman was just another fan.”
Dana’s lips pursed and she shot him a death glare before going back and staring at the elevator doors. He puffed out his cheeks and exhaled slowly. Now probably wouldn’t be the right time to let her know her temper amused him, and that he instantly wanted to trap all those emotions in bed and have sweat-induced sex with her.
They rode the elevator up to the third floor together. He let her stew in her anger all the way upstairs. Out in the hall, she burst ahead of him and opened their suite door first. He stepped in and shut the door.
Candles lit the table and there were two mugs sitting on the placemat. Dana rushed over and blew the candle out. His chest tightened. She’d been in the shower when he’d left.
Dana stomped to her room and shut the door. He walked to the table, picked up a mug, and brought it to his nose. He inhaled the chocolate aroma, sipped, and groaned as the bite of alcohol burned his chest. Shit.
He’d screwed up.
All day, he’d flirted and played on the slopes with Dana. Hell, he’d walked her back to the suite with the biggest hard-on and the desire to climb into the shower with her to warm up too, but he’d backed off. He hadn’t wanted to freak her out when he was enjoying her company. Besides, if they had sex, he could kiss an annulment goodbye.
A Santiago never divorced.
He hung his head. This was all his fault.
A flirtationship. That’s what she called their relationship, and she was right. He’d led her on, teased her, and left her alone in the hotel room. She’d expected more, planned for more, and he’d disappointed her. And to make her disappointment in him even worse, she’d caught another woman making the moves on him.
“Dana?” He walked to her bedroom and knocked. “Babe? Come out for a second.”
Silence answered him. He turned around and leaned his back against the door. What a mess.
He couldn’t tell her that he’d ran downstairs to meet his manager to make sure her future wasn’t hampered by their quick, and rather stupid, decision to get married. She’d ask questions, and then he’d have to tell her what he did with the money from her dad. Regardless of what she thought of him, he wasn’t going to be paid to stay married to Dana.
Call him stupid, but he wanted Dana to walk away in a month with respect for him.
Chapter Ten
Dana paced the bedroom. She slapped her forehead. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
The whole time she’d been in the shower after coming in from outside, all she could think about was Juan. How he’d teased her into enjoying their time on the slope, how they’d held hands, kissed, and touched while she pretended that what they were doing was safe. How at the end of the day, it was the best date she’d ever gone on.
A flirtationship.
Who was she fooling?
By the time she used the excuse of being cold and needing a warm shower, Juan had worked her up into a tizzy. She wanted him to keep touching her, to never stop. By the time she’d toweled off and dried her hair, she’d decided to give Juan some attention back.
He’d gone out of his way to make her day special, so she was going to repay him. Hot toddies in front of the gas fireplace, a little candlelight, and if things advanced to the bedroom, they both deserved to end their frustrations.
So, she’d planned a night of seduction. Until that bitch downstairs stole her man, and she realized she was making a fool of herself. She swept her pillow off the bed and threw it across the room. God, how stupid could she be? She was married to Amante Español. Every single woman from the age of twelve to ninety wanted a piece of him.
“Dana? Please?” Juan called through the door again.
She quietly walked toward the door and leaned against it. He sounded upset, and yet she was the one who was getting screwed over. She sat down on the floor and leaned her back against the wood.
If staying married for a month was going to make her this miserable, he deserved to suffer along with her.
“I guess if you’re not going to open the door, you can listen to me then,” he said. “It’s true that I earned my nickname. I won’t lie. There’ve been women in my life since I was twelve-years old. I’ve dated. I’ve had one-night stands, and left a lot of broken hearts. I’m not proud of what I’ve done.” He paused. “Damn, this isn’t coming out right. I’m trying to explain what happened tonight downstairs with that other woman.”
She closed her eyes and swallowed. Each confession pierced her heart. She’d never expected him to be perfect, but the thought of him being a player disappointed her. It wasn’t the fact that he had more experience to brag about than she did, but that she would never have the part of him that he shared with others. She’d always be his faux wife in their stupid pretend marriage.
She’d had an intimate relationship with Jace. Her sexual experience came from one man who scheduled sex and took a shower afterward as if it was another part of his job. She’d never lost control over her feelings before. Not the way other women did around a famous athlete … or how she did around Juan.
“Part of my job as a member of the Olympic ski team is to appeal to the people, to build a fan base, and because of that, I’ve gone too far. I know I have and I’ll shoulder the blame.” He thumped on the door. “Babe … even if you weren’t here, and we weren’t married, nothing would’ve happened between me and that woman downstairs. I don’t have sex with women I don’t know during the season. I can’t afford the bad press that would come my way. The rumors and speculations are just that … false. The troubles I get in are rarely what they appear.”
“Right,” she mouthed.
“It’s true,” he said. “And even if I wanted to break my own rule, I couldn’t make myself be with her, because … all I could think about was she didn’t smell like you. You always smell like jasmine. I know that’s the scent, because I smelled your shampoo and read the ingredients this morning.”
She covered her mouth, afraid to move. Oh my God. He smelled my shampoo.
“There’s more about you that I like. When you let go of me after holding my hand, you always hook your finger on mine as if you don’t want to lose my touch, like you’re trying to hold on to the very last second. Do you know what that does to me?”
She stood and put her hand on the door handle.
“I don’t know what we’re doing. When we decided to get married, I thought … I thought it’d be easier than trying to talk my way back on the roster. We started out with a partnership, and today it grew into a flirtationship.”
Warmth filled her, and she smiled. She was right, and he’d sensed what they had growing too.
“But you have to know I’m finding it hard to stay in the same suite as you and not touch you. I want to find out what you would do when I kiss your neck and if you’d make any noise when I sink my hands into your hair and lay you down on the bed.” He cussed, and a thunk landed against the door. “I saw what you did out here with the drinks and the candle.”
She took her hand off the handle and stepped away from the door. She’d jumped to conclusions earlier, and made a mistake. He’d already explained how he didn’t have sex with women he didn’t know during the season.
“So, that’s it. That’s what I wanted you to know. I liked what you tried to do here with the drinks, and … ” He cleared your throat. “You know how I feel, but I don’t know what you’re thinking. I don’t know what you want from me.”
Her heart raced. He liked her.
He might have faked his attraction to her when they first got married, but today he’d shown her how much he enjoyed spending the day with her. She couldn’t let him go to bed thinking she didn’t like him too. She opened the door.
“Juan, wait,” she said.
He turned around. She swallowed hard. Face to face, she hesitated. What if she’d misunderstood?
Juan held out his hand. She stepped forward and hooked his finger with hers, and his eyes softened. At that second, she knew she’d lost her heart to Juan Santiago.
Inside, she vibrated. Outside, she attempted to smile and failed. Adrenaline overpowered her ability to speak, and her thoughts misfired from one worry to one hope until she lost the capacity to think. Juan wanted her.
Her husband admitted he found her attractive, and he’d smelled her shampoo.
“Are you okay?” He hooked her neck with his free hand, pulling her close, and continued holding on to her finger.
She nodded. “I know this wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“It was bound to happen,” he said. “I’m trying hard to be the man who promised you an annulment after I finished the games in Germany. I can’t fuck it up by sleeping with you. You deserve to move on with your life, and I only want to be married once, for the right reasons. I’ve screwed up this time enough for both of us by making our arrangement more stressful.”
She fell forward, planting her forehead against his chest. “This is messed up.”
“I’ll agree with that.” He laughed softly.
Confident that she could survive the rest of her marriage without going any further with Juan, even knowing they wanted each other, she rose to her tiptoes and kissed him lightly. “Thank you.”
“Let’s go warm up the drinks, and sit in the living room … far, far away from your bedroom.” Juan led her into the other room.
Unsure of where they went from here, she followed. When he put a mug in her hand after heating it in the microwave, she used all her concentration on blowing across the top, cooling it to taste. When she sat on the couch, Juan sat beside her in the middle instead of on the other end.
She gulped the hot toddy and coughed. Juan lifted her cup to her lips, and she took a smaller sip as her chest and head warmed to an impossibly high degree.
“Have I told you I’m not the best cook?” She eyed the drink. “Apparently, I don’t know the right measurement of alcohol either.”
Juan drank, breathing through his sip. “It’s fine.”
She glanced at him. “Can you drink while in season?”
“It’s one drink — granted, there’s enough whiskey in here for four drinks — but no, drinking isn’t against the rules this far out. I don’t touch the stuff a week before competitions.” Juan put his arm on the back of the couch behind her. “I think we both deserve to celebrate … we’re married.”
“Yeah, about that.” She took another sip and sighed. “Sorry about earlier. I assumed the worst about you when I saw that skank hanging on you, and I know I don’t have any claims a real wife would have on you.”
“Don’t apologize.” He kissed her forehead. “If I had a real wife, I’d want her to fight for me.”
She studied him. “You’re not just saying that because the thought of two women rolling around on the floor in front of you jingles your balls, are you?”
“Jingles? No … ” He grinned, letting that image settle. “Well, maybe a little. But I’d want my wife to make a statement. I’m hers, and she’s mine.”
She sipped her drink, which had cooled off enough not to burn her tongue. Juan communicated his desires more than Jace ever had. With her ex-fiancée, she’d had no idea what he was thinking most of the time they were together. Of course, she’d never pressed him, because she had no aspiration to know more about him, other than the date of when they’d get married.
“Can I tell you something without you laughing?” she asked.
Juan stretched out his legs, lifted her knee, and hooked her leg over his, keeping his hand on her thigh. “Sure.”
“I never loved Jace. I don’t think I even liked him.” She stared down into her empty cup. “My father thinks he’s the greatest salesman and can do no wrong.”
Juan removed her mug and set it on the floor. “Why were you going to marry him?”
She shrugged. “It was time.”
“Ah, the life schedule … ”
“Yeah.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “What if I fail? It’s not easy to have a social life, work, and make everything sync together for two people.”
Warmed from the drink, she yawned. She didn’t expect him to understand why a schedule was important to her when she didn’t comprehend why she set herself up for disappointment every single time.
“You won’t.” Juan picked her up and situated her on his lap. “Comfortable?”
She nodded.
Facing him, one leg on each side of him, she looped her arms around his neck. It was the closest she’d ever been to him, and she looked into his incredibly dark and intense eyes.
He was going to kiss her. That much she knew. She might not know what would happen tomorrow or when they finished their deception, but he was going to kiss her, and she’d let him.
His hands went from her hips to her ass. In one tug, she was plastered against him. His heat against hers. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Holy shit he was hot.
Scorching.
Burning.
“I need to see you,” he whispered.
Juan lifted the edge of her shirt, his eyes never leaving her face. Sh
e caught her bottom lip between her teeth and let him take the material higher. She slipped her arms out of the sleeves and then her shirt was off. Juan’s gaze lowered to her chest.
Pleasure flashed in his eyes. She squirmed. Hunger hit her fast and low.
“Please tell me you’re going to kiss me,” she whispered.
He stroked the top of her thighs. “I made you a promise when we first met. Do you remember what I said?”
She nodded. “You told me there’d be more kissing. Lots of kissing.”
“Whenever and however you want.” He placed his hands on her bare midriff and sucked in air. “You want a kiss? Take it, babe. It’s yours to have anytime.”
As if his permission meant everything in the world, she captured his lips. Soft at first, then more aggressive, she thoroughly explored his lips. Nipping, sucking, licking, tasting.
She grew dizzy, whether from the toddy or the breath Juan stole from her, she clung to him with a desperation she couldn’t explain. His hand brushed her bare back. She shivered, and suddenly her bra bunched in front of her from him undoing the hook. She wiggled her arms out of the straps and dove back into the kiss.
Juan took her with him when he stretched out on the couch, tucking her along the length of him. He kissed her neck. She sank her fingers into his hair and arched her back. Heat covered her wherever his mouth landed. Her neck, her collarbone, her ribs, he paid attention to every spot except where she wanted his mouth.
“Beautiful, babe,” he murmured against her breast as he took her nipple in his mouth.
She moaned from the pleasure. As if his tongue had a direct line to her core, she writhed against him. Her leg curled around his hip, seeking more.
Unable to keep her hands off him, she reached between them and cupped his hardness. His head came up and the heat from his gaze thrilled her. She wanted their clothes off, to feel his skin on hers.
