A Perfect Distraction

Instead of turning him off, she had him wondering if those shapely calves meant her legs were gorgeous all the way up. Did she paint her toenails fire-engine red or shell pink? How much smooth, creamy skin would be revealed if he undid one of those large jacket buttons?

Unexpected heat flashed through Jake.

This was crazy. He was surrounded by the most beautiful women in New York, yet his body chose to spring to attention at Miss Prim and Proper?

Pull yourself together, Badoletti. He shook his head to clear it.

“Is something wrong, Bad Boy?” A model in a hot-pink crop top, which emphasized both her tan and her jutting shoulder and pelvic bones, touched his arm.

Fighting the urge to brush off her hand, he shook his head again. “Excuse me. There’s someone I need to see.”

She followed his gaze. “Sure,” she said, flicking a dismissive glance at the woman in brown before sauntering away with a deliberate swing to her hips.

As Jake walked across the room, Tru appeared beside the intriguing newcomer.

“Hey, bro, this is Tracy’s sister, Maggie.” Curiosity gleamed in his green eyes. “Apparently, you have a meeting.”

“We do.” Jake grinned. “Thanks for coming, Maggie. Hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”

“Not at all.” She shook his hand.

Her accent made her sound cool and polite. Yet the instant their fingers touched, tiny sparks of heat danced across his skin. Desire speared through him, even as she pulled her hand away.

“Don’t keep her working too long. This is a party.” Tru laid his hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “Hope to see you again very soon.”

“Thank you for your help.”

Her soft smile at his friend as he left caused Jake’s stomach to tighten.

“Let’s find somewhere quieter to talk,” he suggested, motioning for her to precede him out of the master suite.

“All right.”

Maggie’s expression was stony as they walked down the hall, past several laughing, tipsy couples, toward the spare room he’d commandeered as an office. He was surprised by her stiff attitude until he noticed the wariness in her chocolate-brown eyes.

Realization dawned. She thought he wanted to turn their meeting into a private party.

Disappointment twinged. It was his own damn fault. He’d spent too long living up to his image and courting publicity, relishing every column inch and glossy photo.

That would all change after today. And she was here to help.

Jake reached past her to fling open the door. She flinched when it banged against the wall. Jeez, the woman was uptight.

“I’m sorry for the mess.” He gathered up folders from the marble-topped coffee table and tossed them into a box. “There’s so much paperwork associated with a transfer.”

Maggie scanned the room, then joined him. A hint of her light, fresh fragrance teased his nose as she handed him some files.

“I’ve seen worse. Besides, the boxes help distract you from the—” she waved a hand to indicate the purple-and-gold-flocked wallpaper, the matching curtains and gold-leaf-encrusted furniture “—unusual decorating style.” Her lips twitched.

So Miss Buttoned-Up had a sense of humor.

“Yeah, it’s kinda over-the-top.” He grinned, feeling a kick of pleasure at her answering half smile. “The owner’s a young basketball phenom who’s moving to Miami. He didn’t want to give up his apartment and it suited me to rent from him.”

Maggie pulled a folder and pen from her briefcase. “We should get started. I don’t want to keep you from your guests.”

He didn’t bother to correct her assumption that he wanted to return to the party.

“Grab a seat.” He shifted some boxes from a pair of purple-and-gold silk-covered armchairs.

As she sat, Maggie’s hem hitched higher, momentarily displaying more smooth leg. She quickly straightened her skirt so it covered her knees once more.

The tantalizing glimpse sent a spike of heat through Jake. He brushed it off, annoyed. He wasn’t some long-haired dude in those romance novels his mom read, who got turned on by a nice ankle. Then why did his body tighten uncomfortably as he watched her undo those big buttons on her jacket to reveal a demure neckline? He’d been right about the creamy skin.

Focus.

Maggie put on black-framed glasses. They should have made her look worse, but they actually made her look cute. He imagined her removing them and letting down her hair like in those old movies.

Concentrate, damn it.

She turned her earnest gaze on him. “Is there anything you need me to do for you?”

Her businesslike tone should have doused the crazy feelings. But his traitorous body found another meaning to the innocent question, responding in a way that would have shocked her down to her covered toes.

Jake looked up at the mirrored ceiling with its etched gold crown motif, and tried to calm the heat raging in his groin with thoughts of ice. A great big sheet of ice.

What the hell is wrong with you? Nervous, mousy brunettes weren’t his type, even with a sexy accent—he preferred cool, confident blondes. Plus less than ten minutes ago he’d reaffirmed his decision to cut women from his life until he’d won the Cup. His focus had to be on hockey. No distractions. No exceptions.

His body obviously hadn’t got the memo.

“I want to move,” he blurted, desperate to focus on the meeting.

She frowned, surprise evident in her voice. “You just said this suited you.”

“I thought it did, but I’ve changed my mind.”

“I see.” The surprise turned to concern. “May I ask what’s wrong? Is it the location?”

Jake nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Manhattan. But it’s a long, grueling season—eighty-two games from October to April, half on the road, then a play-off run that will hopefully last through June. It’d be better if I lived closer to the arena and the airport.”

“Won’t you miss everything the city has to offer?”

How did he explain that that was the point? Staying here would be a mistake. Too much temptation, too easy to get sucked back into his old lifestyle, to be distracted. When he’d rented this place, he’d been sure he could handle it. But tonight was proving otherwise. “I’ll still be able to get into the city if I need to.”

“Fair enough.” Maggie pulled some papers out of her folder. “We should complete this questionnaire. It’ll help me figure out the kind of place you’re after.”

“Okay.” He leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs. “Go for it.”

Maggie tensed and scooted way back in her seat.

What the hell? Stunned, he froze.

It took a moment to register that she was uncomfortable with him sitting that close. Carefully, he shifted and eased away. She relaxed visibly, making him wonder why she was so skittish around him.

“So,” she said briskly. “You want to be in New Jersey. Do you have an area in mind?”

“Somewhere near where my parents live.”

Her brown eyes widened. “You want to go home?”

Her question struck a chord. Was that what he wanted?

Six months ago, he would have laughed at the idea of living in the quiet, leafy-green suburbs alongside the workaholic commuters and the soccer moms. Now it seemed like the perfect solution. He could buy a house with a yard. Have room to breathe, the time and space he needed to cope with the stress of the season. Somewhere to chill or hang out with Tru and Ike. A place to be himself—whatever the hell that meant.

Best of all, there would be no distractions in Jersey.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I want to go home.”

CHAPTER TWO

“ANOTHER WEEK of bed rest!”

As her sister slumped against her pillows, Maggie bit her lip to hold back a smile.

“But you’re home, Auntie Tracy, and we’ll look after you.” Emily danced around the room with the boundless energy of a seven-year-old. “We’re much nicer than Nurse Attila.”

“That’s true.” Tracy crossed her arms. “I expect the best service in this establishment. You’ll have to wait on me hand and foot.”

“Will you give me big tips?” Emily widened her eyes innocently. “You said that’s how you get the best service.”

Maggie swallowed a laugh.

Her sister groaned. “I thought a niece did those things for her favorite aunt out of the goodness of her heart.”

“Does that mean for free?”

“I don’t know where you get that precocious streak from,” Tracy grumbled.

“Don’t you?” Maggie arched an eyebrow.

The doorbell rang with a familiar double peal.

“That’s Amy. Can I go and play with her?” Emily skipped from foot to foot.

“What happened to looking after me?” Tracy whined theatrically.

“Mummy can do that. Besides, Amy’s mum is making brownies. With pecans and everything.” Emily turned to Maggie. “Please.”

“You may, but...” Her voice trailed off as her daughter thundered downstairs. “Make sure you’re back at noon,” she called out.

“Thanks, Mummy. You’re the best.” The front door opened, then slammed shut.

“Tossed over for brownies,” Tracy groused.

“Not just any brownies. They have pecans and everything.” Maggie tucked the quilt more closely around her sister. “Enjoy the peace and quiet while you can.”

Despite her banter with Emily, Tracy was pale, with dark circles under her eyes and a sheen of perspiration on her forehead. The journey from the hospital hadn’t been easy, with every bump taking its toll. “I’ll have plenty of time to rest, thanks to that doctor.”

“At least he agreed you could come home.”

“Only if I promised not to work for a week. I bet that’s Nurse Attila’s proviso.”

“She wants you to heal properly,” Maggie said.

“She doesn’t want me landing back in her ward anytime soon.”

“And you, such a model patient.” Maggie gathered some magazines and placed them nearby. “Time for more painkillers. Are you hungry? I could make you a snack.”

“I’m fine.” Tracy waved her hand impatiently. “Grab a chair and tell me what happened at the party.”

Maggie hesitated. She’d spent most of last night tossing and turning, her body strangely hot and prickly. Though she’d wanted to blame the heat, she knew full well what, or rather who, had caused her inability to relax and sleep.

Jake Badoletti.

The unwanted attraction that had flared during the meeting had remained with her long into the night. She’d berated herself for being susceptible to his roguish smile and easy charm. After everything she’d been through, she should have been immune to the tall, dark and dangerous sports star. His touch shouldn’t have made awareness tingle through her. His deep, rich voice shouldn’t have made her pulse skip as if each word was a seductive caress.

Why? She hadn’t reacted to a man in ages. She didn’t want to react to a man like Jake ever again.

Though he hadn’t acted like she’d expected—no superstar superiority complex, no outrageous demands or sleazy flirting—Maggie had learned the hard way not to be fooled by a handsome facade. To know a devil-may-care smile could hide darkness. She ran her finger over her cheek, the small scar a visible reminder of her last mistake.

Perhaps she was being unfair to Jake, tarring him with the same brush as Lee. But for Emily’s safety and Maggie’s peace of mind, she couldn’t afford to relax her guard.

Besides, she wouldn’t see him again. Tracy would handle all further communication with him. Maggie ignored the twinge in her chest at that thought.

“Was anyone interesting at the party?” Tracy asked.

Safe ground. “I’m sure there were loads of famous people, but I didn’t recognize many. I saw that sexy guy from CSI who’s doing a guest stint with CSI: New York.” She sat in the armchair by the bed. “Apparently, that bloke we liked from Sex and the City dropped by, but I didn’t see him.”

“Bloody typical. I miss all the fun.”

“Weren’t you the one who sat near Tim Robbins at Madison Square Garden? I’ve lost track of all the stars you’ve seen at Yankee Stadium.”

“But I’ve never been to a bash like Jake’s.”

“It wasn’t anything special.”

“I’m not as blasé as you about hobnobbing with celebrities.”

“Jaded, rather than blasé,” Maggie said softly.

“Well, you were one of them, not long ago.”

“Hardly. My only real claim to fame was being a WAG.”

“Being one of the footballers’ wives and girlfriends makes you a celebrity, too.”

“Only because every moment of your life is covered endlessly in the press. What you wear, what you eat, how you look—it’s all discussed and analysed. The paparazzi follow you everywhere, watching and waiting. The appeal of having my picture on the cover of all the magazines and being recognized in the supermarket wore off a long time ago.”

Much to Lee’s displeasure. When she’d first married him, she’d loved the publicity and lifestyle that went with being part of a celebrity couple. It hadn’t taken long for the glamour to fade. For her to tire of having every moment of her life controlled by her ex to optimize media opportunities. “Lee still chases the headlines and the column inches. He’s desperate to be another David Beckham.”

“He’s not a good enough footballer. He’s never played for one of the top Premier League teams or been picked for England.”

Painful memories of what had happened every time Lee hadn’t been selected flickered through Maggie’s mind. Her now-healed arm twinged.

Her reaction must have shown, because Tracy changed the subject, her tone brisk. “How did the meeting with Jake go?”

“Fine.” Maggie pushed the past aside. “He was pleased with the move, but he wants somewhere else.”

“Really? I was sure he’d love that apartment.”

“Apparently, Manhattan is too distracting.” Maggie added air quotes. She found it hard to believe an athlete with his reputation wanted a sedate life in the suburbs. “He wants to concentrate on hockey.”

“Moving to a new team is quite an upheaval, and it’ll be a tough start to the season because he hasn’t played in six months. It’s hard keeping up with that life when you’re healthy, let alone when you’ve been injured so badly.”

“True.” She’d struggled to cope after Emily’s birth and had wanted desperately to withdraw from the social whirl, but Lee had insisted she continue. It had taken a doctor’s intervention to get some respite. “Still, it seems a little sudden.”

“He’s probably one of those people who makes up his mind to do something and wants it done now, now, now.”

“That, I can believe.”

“What’s he after?”

“A house with at least three bedrooms and a large garden.” Maggie explained briefly what she and Jake had discussed. “Honestly, I don’t think he’s thought through what he really wants. So I’d recommend somewhere with the flexibility to adapt to his needs, like adding a home gym.”

“Sounds good.” Tracy winced as she straightened. “I should get on this right away.”

“You’re not up to it.” Maggie shook her head. “No business for a week, remember?”

“That was before I knew Bad Boy wanted to buy a house.”

“He can wait until you’re better.”

“Even if he’s willing to delay, the Ice Cats won’t be happy. This project is a big step up from the ad hoc assignments I’ve done for them and the clock’s ticking. Until Jake signs to say the job’s finished to his satisfaction, Making Your Move won’t get that retainer.” Tracy’s words tumbled over each other as her voice rose in pitch. “I can’t risk them changing their minds. Becoming their sole contractor for player moves for the next five years would make my business financially secure. Everything has to be perfect.”

“I know this project is important, but so is your health. If you rush back to work, your recovery will take even longer.”

“I have no choice. There are plenty of firms willing to take my place. Unless...” Tracy’s expression became pensive. “I know we agreed you’d only do that one meeting, but would you be willing to help me out again?”

Maggie knew what was coming and hated that she couldn’t refuse. Her sister wouldn’t rest with this situation nagging her. “What do you need me to do?”

“Manage Jake. Mimi, my favorite real-estate agent, will help you find suitable properties. Also, check his rental papers to see the penalties for early termination and...”

Panic fluttered in her chest at Tracy’s list of instructions. It was too much. She couldn’t be responsible for all that. “I can’t. I have no experience.” Lee’s sneering voice echoed in her head. You’re useless. “I’ll make a mistake and blow it for you.”

“Rubbish!” Her sister smacked the bed. “I hate what that bastard did to you. Bad enough that he controlled every aspect of your life like a modern-day Svengali. His belittling jibes did as much damage as his fists.” Her sister softened her tone. “You’re a smart, capable woman. You can do this and much more.”

Tracy forced Maggie to meet her gaze. “Look what you’ve achieved in the past few months. When I fell ill, you moved over here, found a summer activity camp for Emily and sorted out a school for the fall. To say nothing of what you’ve done for me at work.”

“But I might make a mess of things and cost you the business.”

“You won’t. Besides, I’ll be right here overseeing everything.” Tracy’s smile was wry. “Even if you won’t let me use my laptop, I can listen and advise.”

This was supposed to be Maggie’s fresh start. She’d vowed Emily would never see her as weak and pathetic again. Just because things weren’t going smoothly didn’t mean she should give up. She owed it to herself to see what she was capable of.

With her sister nearby, what could go wrong? “It’s only for the week?”

Tracy nodded eagerly. “Most of the work can be done by phone or email. You probably won’t have to see Jake more than once.”

See Jake again? Maggie’s pulse gave a funny little lurch. It had been one thing to dismiss her reaction to him when she’d thought she wouldn’t see him again. Quite another to test her resolve not to be affected by another meeting with him.

Her sister continued, “Then you can return to taking care of the admin, like we agreed. I prom—” She made a wry face. “No promises?”

A smile slipped out. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

“Thanks.” Tracy settled against the pillows. “So, is Bad Boy as sexy in person?”

“He’s nice,” Maggie hedged, cursing the heat that filled her cheeks. “Polite, charming.”

“You fancied him, I can tell.”

Arguing would only fuel her sister’s curiosity. “He’s better looking than his photos,” she conceded. “Why don’t I get you a cup of tea?”

“Thanks.” Tracy must be tired to accept the distraction so easily. “Bring up Jake’s file, too, and let’s see what needs to be done.”

Maggie had made it to the door when her sister giggled. “You should have the next meeting here, so I can see how hot Jake really is.”

Maggie didn’t dignify that comment with a response.

As she went downstairs, she wished for a fraction of Tracy’s self-confidence. Her sister’s bitter divorce from her cheating husband hadn’t slowed her down. It had made her stronger.

It was time Maggie followed her example. She’d vowed the night she left Lee to do everything she could to provide her daughter with a happy, safe and secure life. Tracy was giving her the perfect opportunity to make that happen. Maggie needed to dip into the well of strength that had helped her survive her marriage and get on with it.

Maggie made the tea, then went into the office. As she grabbed Jake’s file, a picture slid onto the desk. Those killer ice-blue eyes stared up at her. She jammed the photo back into the folder, then put a hand over her pounding heart as if she could slow its runaway pace. The last thing she wanted or needed in her life right now was a man. Least of all, Jake Badoletti.

“He’s just a client,” she told herself. “Nothing more.”

She ignored the inner voice that cackled with disbelief as she went back upstairs.

* * *

NOTHING APPEALED TO him.

Jake studied the property sheets spread across his parents’ kitchen table and sighed. He’d been excited when Maggie had emailed them ahead of their meeting. An hour later, and with Maggie due to arrive any minute, he had to admit he wasn’t jazzed about a single one.

“You don’t like these houses?” His mom gave him a glass of lemonade.

“Definitely not these tasteless monsters.” He gathered some rejected properties into a pile. “These are too modern, lack soul.” He added another group to the stack. “And these...”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this change?” she asked softly, concern in her blue eyes. “You’ve been through so much and this is such a big decision.”

“It’s because of what I went through that I want to change my life, Ma. I have to.”

She didn’t look convinced.

His cell rang, and he glanced at the caller ID but didn’t answer. The popular starlet’s persistence was beginning to tick him off.

“That hasn’t changed.” His mom smiled. “The girls still call.”

“But I don’t call them back. I told you, I’m focusing on hockey. Period.”

“You’re sure?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re a good boy, Jake. No matter what they call you.”

He was glad no one was around to see him choke at his mother’s faith in him. It proved he wasn’t beyond hope. And reinforced why he couldn’t waste this second chance.

He refocused on the property sheets. “These town houses have small yards.”

His mom added them to the no pile.

“That leaves these four. I don’t really like any of them, but Maggie won’t be impressed if I reject everything sight unseen.”

“Who’s Maggie?” His mom’s innocent expression didn’t fool him.

He kept his voice casual. “She works for that relocation agency. She’ll take me around the places I’m interested in.”

“I see.” She sighed heavily. “I’d hoped your new life would include settling down, getting married and giving me grandchildren.”

“One thing at a time, Ma.” He shook his head at her. “Remember, no distractions.”

“Since when is a nice girl a distraction?”

An image of Maggie in that mud-brown suit flitted through his mind, followed swiftly by teasing little snapshots: the momentarily hitched skirt, the undone buttons, her smooth, creamy skin. The way she nibbled her full bottom lip when she was thinking. He could swear a hint of her fragrance wafted past him.

His blood heated.

Maggie fit his mom’s idea of a nice girl. Given how many erotic dreams he’d had about Maggie since their meeting and how many times she’d popped into his thoughts, the mousy brunette was also one hell of a distraction.

“Nothing but hockey, Ma, until I win the Cup.”

“Many players have wives and families and still win the Cup.” She squeezed his hand. “You need balance in your life.”

The doorbell rang, saving him from having to reply.

He leaped to his feet. “I’ll go.”

Maggie stood on the front porch. Today’s gray suit was as drab as the brown thing. The demure neckline had a lace collar that would have suited a nun’s habit. The itty-bitty heels of her gray sandals looked uncomfortable to walk in. No sign of toenail polish. Not that he was obsessed or anything.

He tamped down his jumping pulse. “How’s it going?”

“Fine, thank you.” She smiled uncertainly. “I hope I’m not too early. I’m still finding my way around and get lost, even with GPS, so I leave extra time.”

“Not a problem.”

“Come in.” His mom bustled past him. “It’s too warm to be standing on the porch. I’m Tina Badoletti.” She took Maggie’s arm and ushered her down the hall toward the kitchen, chatting a mile a minute about the weather, her garden and the flowers she’d just picked.

Jake followed behind, shaking his head fondly.

As Maggie walked into the kitchen, she turned to give him a slightly shell-shocked smile. His eyes were drawn downward, over her curves to those shapely calves and ankles and back up to...

Buttons. Lace-covered buttons that looked like sugar-dusted candy. In a line, along the side seam of her pencil skirt.