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“Won’t quit what?” Marguerite teased him.
“Come with me, little girl, and I’ll show you.”
“Stop growling like some lecherous wolf, Sam, and take it somewhere private,” Luke muttered.
“Jealous?”
“Hand me a cigar, then go home. Both of you.”
Sam plucked a cigar from the humidor on Luke’s desk, snipped off the end and passed it to his cousin, along with a lighter. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” Luke caught the look that passed between Sam and Marguerite. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Turn off most of the lights, too, please.”
He waited until the door closed before he groaned. As soon as the swelling subsided and the medication kicked in, he’d be able to function again. He knew the drill. Until then, he had to lie still.
He blew a smoke ring, then another. Sam’s innocent query gave him pause. “Jealous?” he’d asked. Yeah, he was jealous. Jealous of Sam’s unbroken body. Jealous of his having a companion to share his life with. But not jealous of his impending marriage, not when Luke could see how hot Sam was for Marguerite.
Luke had made that mistake twice in his life—confused lust for love. Not this time. This time he would choose a woman he knew would be a good companion outside of the bedroom. And someone who didn’t want his money, either. He’d prefer a woman whose body was the exact opposite of either of his voluptuous ex-fiancées, a woman who didn’t make him fantasize.
He knew what he wanted. Home and hearth. Continuity. They had to be on the woman’s wish list, too.
He relaxed as his pain eased. Maturity hadn’t sneaked up on him—it’d slapped him full in the face. First, with the arrival of his thirty-fourth birthday six months ago. Then the damned injury two months later. He might have tried to continue playing ball for another couple of years, hoping that he wouldn’t totally destroy both knees, but he’d decided to stop sacrificing his body for his sport, difficult as that decision was.
Finally, the last big change, the sudden opportunity to take Titan to a whole new level of competition in the industry when his grandfather had turned over the presidency of the company to him. His entire life was going to be different from here on. A normal existence, finally. One where he wasn’t taking orders from coaches and trainers and owners, but leading the team, instead, and deciding the future. And marriage, of course.
Lust wasn’t going to make his decisions for him this time. Not that dubious emotion love, either, whatever that was. Nope. This time he was choosing a helpmate, a companion, a friend.
Gingerly, he swung his legs around and sat up. He’d already had surgery on one knee. Day after tomorrow, the other. Cautiously he stood, not moving until he got his balance, then he walked to his desk, switched on a light and opened his top drawer. He plucked a small velvet box from the corner he’d shoved it into and pushed up the lid. A flawless, three-carat diamond ring sparkled back at him. A ring his jeweler insisted any woman would be thrilled to wear. He snapped the lid shut and picked up his neatly typed list, examining it, top to bottom.
Each name was followed by the details he thought important. They represented a spectrum of professions—Realtor, two lawyers, orthopedic surgeon, physical therapist, actress, loan officer and television sportscaster. Five of them already had children—a definite advantage in his book—but it also meant an ex-husband to deal with forever because of kids being involved. Of the three childless women, he could conjure up the image of only one, the sportscaster for a San Francisco station, whom he’d met last year. He supposed he remembered her face because he’d seen her on television since.
Names. They were just names.
His plan suddenly seemed idiotic. Juvenile. And yet, how else could he get what he wanted? He had to start somewhere.
He let the paper drift back onto the desk, the sound as it landed seeming to whisper a word. He glanced out his window at the darkening sky. A moment later he picked up a pencil and scrawled an addition to the list—the name that had been in his head trying to get out all afternoon:
9. Ariel Minx—
He hesitated. What did she do for a living? Did she have any children? He realized how little he knew about her.
Finally, he added: professional do-gooder. That made him smile.
He took the paper with him as he returned to the couch and stretched out again. He drew on his cigar, contemplating Ariel. He admired that she hadn’t asked for help for selfish reasons. Had she begged his assistance for herself alone, he might have agreed without learning whether it made sense for Titan She hadn’t used that leverage.
Because she’d been so adamant about his not contacting her after the cruise, he hadn’t considered her before, but he could see that she would make a good wife. A great hostess. A phenomenal mother She wouldn’t care that they’d have to adopt, either. She’d love those kids just the same as if she’d given birth to them.
The scent of her perfume drifted over him before he realized how impossible that was. He’d already filled the air with cigar smoke. Wait. There it was again. Soft and flowery. He turned his head toward the back of the couch and sniffed. The leather seemed to breathe her fragrance.
He smiled. That all-business suit and hairstyle had thrown him at first, not looking like his recollection of her. But the fire in her eyes hadn’t changed. That she’d rebuffed him once before didn’t matter. He had a clean slate, he figured, since she’d come to him.
He tried to recall their kiss, but he’d been in so much pain, he hadn’t really been able to concentrate on it at the time. Without being able to put much weight on one leg, it was all he could do to stay upright. Still, if the lust had been strong enough, it would’ve wrestled the pain out of his mind, wouldn’t it? Yeah. He was sure of that. He’d had plenty of experience with lust. He’d only kissed Ariel because she’d all but challenged him to.
Yeah, right. Got some other fairy tale on your mind, Luke?
He stared at her name before folding the paper carefully and sliding it into his shirt pocket. He could make his own rules this time—and there was no rule saying he had to start his search at the top of the list.
Three
Ariel hung up the phone and flopped back on her bed, covering her eyes with her arm What a stubborn man Lucas Walker was. He hadn’t succumbed to any carrot she’d dangled in front of him Yes, Titan was going to save the Couch Potatoes event, but, no, Luke wouldn’t make a personal appearance. She’d thought for sure she’d be able to convince him. Ha!
A week had flown past, with phone calls back and forth, faxes sent and received. In the end, Titan would not only be the largest sponsor of the event but would also provide each participant with a new pair of athletic shoes, as well as T-shirts not available to the public yet. Luke had lined up a ton of autographed sports paraphernalia, not just from football players, but from most other pro sports as well. The ticket sales for the dinner-dance and silent auction were twice what her committee had anticipated during the initial planning, three times what they were a mere week ago.
Sold out. She couldn’t ask for more.
She was asking, however. She wanted him there, in person.
The thought curled around her like a drift of his cigar smoke, stinging her eyes. As long as she was being so honest with herself, she might as well take the truth the whole way—she wanted to dance with him again, to be in his arms again, maybe even kiss him again.
A memory of their last evening on the cruise had surfaced during the past week. She’d gone for a swim, enjoying the empty pool as everyone else partied. When she’d finally emerged, Luke had materialized out of the shadows, wrapping a towel around her from behind, his arms enfolding her, drawing her against him. Even through the fabric she’d felt the warmth of his body all the way down to her toes.
They’d stayed like that a minute or two, awareness sizzling. It was then that he’d asked to see her again.
She’d almost said yes. The truth was, she’d almost invited him to her cabin. Then someone walked by, calling his name, and she’d remembered his place in the world. Remembered the stack of Sports Illustrated magazines with him as the Super Bowl MVP on the cover that he’d autographed for the fans who’d donated big money just to be on the same cruise ship with him.
She’d found the strength to turn him down because of it. He didn’t have a clue about how hard it had been for her to give up the chance to see him again, when, in fact, she’d found him charming, appealing, exciting and very, very tempting.
Luke seemed to have all the determination this time around, however. He had no intention of being in San Francisco while his team played in the Super Bowl. The pain of not playing was more than he could bear.
Oh, he hadn’t said so, but she knew it.
The phone rang. She shoved herself up to answer it.
“Hi. It’s me again. I know you’re probably ticked off at me.”
“I won’t ask you again, Lucas. I promise. You’re not coming. I accept it.”
“Actually, I changed my mind”
“You did?”
“Under one condition. If I do your event, you do mine.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I can’t seem to get the Dusters’ owner to take no for an answer. Everyone expects me in the box for the game. I’m asking you to go with me.”
Ariel clutched the receiver closer. He didn’t know what he was asking of her, of course. Didn’t know that she shunned the spotlight—and why. Could she risk a public appearance with him?
Sacrifice. The word bound them together. They would both be sacrificing something. Hers was greater—
“Ariel? You there?”
“I’m here.” She swallowed “And you’ve got yourself a deal. Where will you stay, though? I heard on the news that every hotel is booked.”
“Darlin’, darlin’ You don’t really think I’d have any trouble linin’ up a room, do you? Celebrity has its perks.”
The teasing tone didn’t completely cover some emotion she couldn’t quite name, but that she could hear, beneath the surface of the words. If he stayed in a hotel, he’d be hounded by the media. How many times could he answer the question of how it felt not being able to be part of history? She knew how intrusive the media could be.
She sighed at the inevitability of what she was destined to ask him next. First, sacrifice, now risk. “If you don’t mind not having room service or the media camped outside your door, Lucas, why don’t you just stay with me at my apartment?”
Unearthly silence followed. She filled it. “It’d sure make it easier all the way around. We’ve got to get to and from the Center, then the dinner-dance, and then the game. I think we know each other well enough to coexist for a few days. You have to leave the cigars at home, though.”
“I wouldn’t smoke in your house. Any other rules I should know of?”
“I don’t know if you would consider it a rule, but, just so that there’s no confusion, you will have a bedroom of your own. And this is a strictly platonic invitation.”
“Naturally.”
She swore she could hear him grinning. He had agreed to the stipulation way too fast.
“Okay, Ariel. I’ll be there. Thanks for the offer.”
“When will you arrive?”
“Wednesday night. I’d like to check everything at the Center ahead of time myself. I’m kinda curious, though, why you’re makin’ rules before they become issues. If you’re afraid of something, why don’t you just tell me now, and we’ll settle it before we see each other.”
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Doesn’t sound like it to me, Ariel.”
When they ended the conversation a few minutes later, she wondered the same thing. The answer was easy. She was afraid of him and his very public life. She was also drawn to the vulnerable side of him, the tough guy who she decided didn’t want the world to know how hard it was to leave his celebrity status behind, the identity of “football player,” a role he’d had since he was a boy.
But something stronger had pushed and shoved its way past all that. The acknowledgment that she needed him, too. Needed to feel like a woman, cherished and valued for who she was, not because she was a quintessential volunteer and the ultimate hostess.
She just wanted the fantasy for a little while.
“This is stupid,” Marguerite shouted as she ducked her head against the driving wind and rain bombarding San Francisco. “Just tell her the truth, Luke.”
He returned a quelling look, then climbed the next stair. And the next.
“If she’s any kind of woman, she won’t care about your disability.”
“I don’t want to be coddled. And I’m not disabled permanently. I just decided to put off the surgery until after this weekend. Keep your voice down now. We’re almost to the top. She’ll hear us.”
“Men,” Marguerite muttered, hefting a rain-splattered bag.
“Including me in that tone of voice, sweetheart?” Sam asked, adjusting Luke’s Pullman and suit bag as they ascended the stairs to Ariel’s second-floor apartment.
“For the moment. Talk to him, Sam.”
“It’s like talking to granite, and you know it. He’s—”
“Shh.” Luke came to a stop at the landing. He resisted rubbing his aching knee. “Just set the bags down and scoot on back to the rental car. I’ll take it from he—”
The door opened, spilling light on the three, who probably looked like five-year-olds caught playing doctor, Luke decided.
“Brought your entourage, Lucas?” Ariel asked, opening the door wider. “A big, strong man like you can’t carry his own luggage?”
“Hello to you, too, darlin’.” Lord, she looked good. He brushed past her, letting Sam and Marguerite follow. He got an impression of space and color and warmth as he glanced around her living room.
Ariel tossed a towel at Marguerite, then disappeared into a room and returned with a couple more for the men.
“Take off your jackets. I’ll fix something to warm you up.”
“They’re not staying,” Luke said.
“Don’t be rude.” Ariel gave him a direct look
“I spend fifty to sixty hours a week with Luke as it is,” Marguerite said. “You think I’d willingly subject myself to more?”
Sam chuckled. “Gotta get to the hotel” He passed the towel back to Ariel and placed a hand at Marguerite’s back.
Ariel’s brows lifted. “You have something urgent to do at ten-fifteen at night?”
“After the flight we just had, a hot bath and a stiff drink seem not only urgent, but a matter of life or death,” Marguerite said
“You flew here? I assumed you were so late arriving because the snowstorm in the Sierras made the roads tricky to drive.”
“Blizzard,” Luke corrected her, curious at her sudden pallor “We sat on the tarmac for a couple of hours waiting for a window of opportunity.”
“They should have canceled the flight.”
“Once the tower granted permission, it was my call, since I’m the pilot,” he said, then grabbed her arm when she swayed. “What’s wrong with you?”
“You’re a pilot? You flew yourself here?” she asked, her eyes huge and dark “In a blizzard?”
“It was clear when we took off. Ariel, I’ve been flyin’ for more than ten years. During the off-season I represented Titan all around the country. Flying myself saves a lot of time and hassle getting from place to place, but it’s also my recreation. You have a problem with that?”
She shrugged, the color returning to her cheeks as she pulled free of his hold. “Nope.”
“Good.”
Marguerite snorted.
“Come on, sweetheart. We should get going,” Sam said, tugging on her arm.
“Ariel.” Marguerite called over her shoulder as she was being physically removed from the house, “make sure he doesn’t climb your stairs too many times a day.”
