Dare to Tempt

by Carly Phillips

“Just tell me what’s wrong.” She hated suspense.

  “I was talking to your brothers. They thought this whole situation was either a false alarm or a prank. Then one of the firefighters told Deke that there was a man who was pretending to be one of them. And after mixing in and I assume getting into the building, he left in his car, not in the fire engine like the rest of the guys.”

  Her heart skipped a beat at the implication. “You think it was John?”

  “We don’t know but it’s a possibility.”

  “That stupid son of a bitch.”

  “The problem is that you have no proof he’s stalking you, which means you can’t get a restraining order,” Damon muttered.

  “He’s good at stalking. And cheating.” But she wasn’t going to let John ruin her morning. “Can we stop talking about something I can’t change? I’m sure Mack is going to end up having someone drive by here often if he doesn’t do it himself.”

  He looked like he wanted to argue … or say something more, but as if she’d summoned the food, her bell rang. Damon strode there first and looked through the peephole before opening the door and accepting the package, discovering she’d already paid and tipped with an app.

  “I would have paid for your breakfast,” he said as she took the bag from him.

  She smiled. “I know. And I can afford to treat you.” She unpacked the Styrofoam holders and moved the pancakes onto plates, setting them on the table with maple syrup and utensils.

  They sat next to each other at her kitchen table. Sun streamed in from a nearby window as they each took their choice of pancakes.

  Damon took the plain kind and she wrinkled her nose at his unimaginative choice.

  “Come on, don’t you want a taste of chocolate chip or apple pancake? They’re so good,” she urged, taking a bite of chocolate chip herself.

  She moaned at the taste of the chocolate and syrup sliding down her throat. At the sound, his gaze locked on hers, and she gulped down the end of the piece she’d eaten, then lowered her fork and placed it down.

  He leaned in close. “Know what I like the best about pancakes?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “The maple syrup,” he said and licked her sticky lips. He groaned as he swiped his tongue over her bottom lip, followed by her upper, then darted across the seam. A sensual request to be let inside.

  She parted her mouth and tasted heaven. He kissed her thoroughly, as if afraid he’d miss one bit of the syrup, but the longer he lingered, the more she knew he was devouring her. And she liked it.

  One hand came to rest at her neck as he tilted his head and thrust his tongue in deeper. She moaned and kissed him back, her body pulsing with desire. She’d never felt such honest emotion in a kiss before, and she didn’t want it to end.

  When a ring sounded, she was sure she was just lost in sensation, but the sound continued.

  He leaned back, breaking their connection. “It’s your cell,” he said gruffly.

  She glanced up at him. His lips were damp from their intense kiss. “Can I ignore it?”

  He chuckled, the sound low and deep. “It’s up to you.”

  She glanced at her phone and hit accept immediately. “Hello?”

  “Evie? It’s Gavin at MSP Laboratories.”

  She looked at Damon, who’d returned to eating his pancakes, but didn’t tell him who was on the other end. “Hi. What did you find out?” she asked Gavin, who she’d gone to college with. They’d met living in the same dorm, but his classes hadn’t overlapped with her criminal justice major.

  “Nothing in that pain patch but lidocaine, capsaicin, methyl salicylate, and menthol. All standard ingredients.”

  Dammit. Although the results didn’t rule out the trainer completely, she’d hoped the answer would be simple.

  “Thanks, Gavin. You know where to bill me.”

  She disconnected the call and met Damon’s gaze, putting her phone down on the table.

  “Bad news,” he said, not even bothering with a question.

  She nodded. “There’s no banned substance in the pain patch. Just the things you’d expect. I’m sorry.”

  “And the hits keep coming.” He groaned and pushed his plate away. A waste of delicious pancakes, she thought sadly.

  “Hey.” She put her hand over his. “It was a long shot. There’s still a lot of ground left to cover.”

  He treated her to a forced smile, and she decided to change the subject, not that he’d like this one any better. “So … that kiss.”

  To her shock, his smile grew wider and more genuine. “What about it?”

  She swallowed hard, but she’d never backed away from honesty when it was important. “You’re my client.”

  “And?”

  “And we’re pretending to be together and there’s nobody around now to impress or prove anything to. So, what’s going on?” Because she honestly didn’t understand. “Up until a couple of days ago, you barely tolerated me.”

  “Hey, that’s not true.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “We certainly didn’t click.”

  “Because I didn’t know you then.”

  She sighed. “Damon, let’s be real. You all but said I’m not your type. Hell, I had to dress up just to prove to you that I could pull it off.”

  He frowned at that. “I’m an asshole. And I was wrong. I always thought you were gorgeous but I didn’t see you.”

  “And you do now.”

  Reaching out, he pulled a strand of her hair, sliding it back and forth between his fingers. “Yes, I do.”

  “Well, you don’t do relationships and neither do I. Not anymore.” He didn’t argue the point, so she went on. “Not to mention the fact that we have important people in common. It would be stupid to let things go any further.”

  Quinn, her best friend in the world, was with his brother. Evie didn’t ever want to make her choose.

  “I didn’t say anything about a relationship. It was a kiss. A damn good kiss and one I want to repeat. And so do you.” He tugged on her hair. “And as far as Quinn and Austin are concerned, we’re adults. Whatever happens between us, I’m sure we can handle it without pulling them into it.”

  She couldn’t concentrate, not with how he was lightly tugging on her hair, the feel surprisingly arousing. “You’re suggesting we … what?”

  “See where things go and have fun.”

  Could she do that? Just give in, let go, and enjoy? Didn’t she deserve some good in her life for as long as it lasted?

  “Stop thinking so hard,” he said, leaning in close, his forehead touching hers.

  “Okay.”

  “Well, okay then.” A slow, sexy grin lifted his lips, one she couldn’t resist.

  And now she didn’t have to.

  * * *

  Damon left Evie at her door with a deep kiss that had his cock hard and his body aching for more. More seemed to be the theme of things right now. For the first time, he wanted more from a woman than she wanted from him. Because of her hesitancy, he’d let her believe he desired a short-term, fun fling, because if he’d even hinted that he was quickly becoming invested, she’d run far and fast. She didn’t trust readily and for good reason.

  But for Damon, Evie was a beacon of light in a dark time in his life. He knew now that the fake girlfriend aspect wouldn’t work. He’d been counting on the idea of winning his appeal and her being able to meet his teammates and others with whom he had daily contact. Now he was banned from the stadium. From doing anything that might make the NFL think he was viewing plays, watching practice, having contact with team personnel. The list went on.

  He thought back to his initial conversation with his brother and realized Austin had known all along what the end result would be. Bri had, too. Damon hadn’t wanted to face or hear it, and they’d offered him Evie as a PI who could play his girlfriend and assess the people around him. But that idea was now dead in the water.

  Of course, there were still times they might run into people, a
nd he knew Evie would look and play the part to the hilt. But as far as reality was concerned, he was relying on her private investigator skills to dig deep and help him find out who had set him up.

  And he believed she’d do just that.

  He pulled his McLaren into his garage, put the car in park, and shut the engine. As he disarmed the alarm and walked inside, his mind was back on his career. Damon didn’t know whether to be relieved his trainer hadn’t tried to dose his pain patch or pissed he still didn’t know who had it in for him.

  He just wanted a fucking answer.

  * * *

  After another day of rest and losing his mind, Damon eyed the weights in his basement longingly but knew better than to test his concussion by working out. Not when he was slowly getting better, his head hurting less, the dizziness decreasing. Evie had checked in, assuring him she was working, but hadn’t been specific as to how she was handling her investigation into who had framed him.

  Considering what she now had to deal with personally, he admired her focus on her cases, because he assumed he wasn’t the only client she had. He’d asked her if she’d had any further issues or contact with her ex, and she’d assured him she hadn’t, which didn’t stop him from thinking or worrying about her.

  He wasn’t used to being concerned about a woman he was involved with. Had never been emotionally attached to anyone he’d dated in his past. Hell, he hadn’t thought about anything but excelling on the field, and that had taken a lot of work in the gym and out, studying tapes, talking to coaches, and running plays. But he’d never expected to find a woman who understood his life and he hadn’t cared. Because nobody had gotten under his skin.

  Until Evie.

  Despite this being a disastrous time in his career, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her light brown gaze, lit up with smart-ass laughter or opened in panic, stayed with him. He wished all he could think about was her sexy body or the taste of her lips. That would tell him it was a casual thing. Instead he kept wondering how she was feeling, if she was frightened, or whether she was okay after the resurgence of her ex.

  Although he’d never admit it, Damon had looked up Evie’s ex, Googling for information, a search that revealed John’s arrest. No mention of stalking afterwards. Damon’s stomach churned at the details that Evie hadn’t mentioned, including a knife wound. As for John, he’d been arrested but had cut a deal, not serving time. He had, however, lost his law license and his job as, ironically, a defense attorney.

  Damon tucked the information away. The only way he wanted to know more was if he heard it from Evie herself. He refused to admit he’d dug into things and violated her privacy. Despite the fact that her assault was public record, she deserved to have the dignity of telling him herself.

  The photo of John Coltrane showed a clean-cut lawyer. He didn’t strike Damon as Evie’s type. Then again, having seen Evie dressed up and dressed down, he couldn’t imagine what her type was, though he was beginning to hope it was him.

  He shut the lights off in his home gym and walked back to the kitchen, pulling out a premade smoothie and taking a drink. He found comfort in routine, something he’d learned as a kid. He’d had to considering his father had been a grade-A asshole when Damon hadn’t measured up to Austin. The physicality of football hadn’t come naturally to Damon as it had to his oldest brother, but the mental aspect of quarterbacking clicked for him.

  But the mind hadn’t interested Jesse Prescott. Only the ability to take a hit on the field had. Over time, Damon learned to merge the two, and his dad, an almost-NFL player who had lost his chance due to injury in college, wanted to live through his sons. If Damon couldn’t make a play, Jesse forced him to pay for it. As punishment, he’d walked home in more blazing Florida heat, cooler weather, and rainstorms than he cared to remember. He’d hated the bastard.

  And last year he’d learned Jesse wasn’t his biological father. He was none of the Prescott kids’ biological father. In an unbelievable revelation, when their Uncle Paul had needed a kidney transplant, he’d come to them and asked them all to be tested as possible matches. Because Paul had been their sperm donor when Jesse couldn’t get his wife pregnant. Another failure in Jesse’s eyes. Another reason to drive his kids even harder.

  Damon frowned at the memory. Austin had been the kidney donor. Damon loved his brother, but he’d always been blessed in a way that either things came easily, like football, or he was the savior, in the case of uncle Paul.

  His phone rang and he glanced at the screen, seeing it was Evie. “Hello?”

  “Hi. I have an idea. I know you’re suspended, but you said we could run into your teammates in public places, right?”

  He heard the excitement in her voice. “Right.”

  “I think we should go out as a couple. A place where you think your backup quarterback might be. I’d like to meet him and assess him for myself.”

  “I like that plan.” Once the season began in earnest, the guys would basically be on lockdown, but right now? They had a chance. “I know exactly where to find Emerson.”

  “Where?”

  “Diamond Joe’s. It’s a huge step down from Allstars. Less privacy and more clinging women,” Damon said.

  “Diamond Joe’s. Oh, joy,” she muttered, recognizing the name. “What’s the dress code?”

  “T and A,” he said, laughing to himself, although from the groan on the other end of the phone, he could envision Evie rolling her eyes.

  “I’ll drive in case your head hurts. Pick you up at ten?” she said more than asked.

  “Yes, boss,” he said with a grin.

  * * *

  Damon was ready when Evie pulled up to his house in her Mini Cooper convertible. He locked up and headed out to meet her. He’d turned off his phone, wanting to give her his full attention tonight.

  She opened her door and met him on the driveway, taking his breath away. A black leather miniskirt hit high on her thighs, a pair of red stilettos—fuck-me heels and he imagined doing just that—showed off her long, tanned legs, and a low-dipped shirt beneath her leather jacket revealed full, mouthwatering cleavage. God, this woman affected him. Not only did he desire her but he liked her witty mouth and smart mind. He was no longer content to look and not touch. Somehow, he had to convince her they were good together for real.

  “Looking good, Evie.” He dragged his gaze over hers once more.

  She grinned. “Glad I meet with your approval,” she said, but her eyes flashed with pleasure. “So, I thought maybe you’d want me to drive your car. Mine’s a little small for you.”

  His head was much better today and hadn’t acted up tonight. He recalled curling up in her small front seat the other night and winced. “You want to drive my McClaren.” He burst out laughing.

  “I can handle it. You think I can’t?” She held out her hand. “Keys?”

  He shook his head. “I woke up this morning finally feeling better. And I have driven when it was an emergency. I just said okay to you driving over because I wanted to make sure I was fine tonight, too.” He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his fob. “Park your car in one of the extra spots and I’ll pull out.”

  “You’re such a man.” Frowning at him, she walked around her car and slid inside, starting the engine so she could move the vehicle.

  “Drive my baby,” he muttered, laughing as he headed back inside to open the electric door.

  He backed his car out of the garage, climbing out and meeting Evie at the passenger side, opening the door for her. She slid in, the scent of her perfume hitting him hard as she brushed past him.

  On the trip downtown, she peppered him with more questions about his life in an attempt to learn more about him before they met up with people he knew at the bar, and he enjoyed answering her questions.

  “Who’s your best friend?”

  That one was easy and plural. “My brothers.”

  “Besides family,” she said.

  He glanced over at her before refocu
sing on the road. “Asher Dare.”

  She slid those long legs to the side and leaned in close. “The Asher Dare? The one who, along with his brother Harrison, owns Dirty Dog Vodka? Harrison Dare, the biggest actor on the planet?”

  Hands on the wheel, he grinned. “And Nick and Zach, the other brothers, and me. I have a small stake in the company as well. And yes, we’re all related. And they have a sister, Emery.”

  She smacked her head against the back of the seat. “I never put it together.”

  “Why would you? They’re cousins on my New York family’s side.”

  “Why go into the vodka business?” she asked.

  “When the guys decided to form the company, I’d just signed my first contract.” He shrugged. “Couldn’t think of anything better to do than go into the start-up with family.”

  She twisted toward him, obviously interested, and he continued.

  Although he spoke to the guys often and they wanted to come by and commiserate, Damon had been too wrapped up in his issues to hang with his buds. Still, he knew the guys wouldn’t take no for an answer much longer.

  She let out a low whistle. “Your family holds some pretty impressive people, even considering who you are.”

  He chuckled and pulled into the parking lot of the closest hotel to the bar with a valet. He’d rather walk an extra block than leave his car outside. Was the price of his vehicle ridiculous? Hell yes. But a man had to have one vice and an expensive car was his.

  After settling things with the valet, he wrapped an arm around Evie’s waist and they headed toward the bar. And damned if she didn’t feel good and right by his side.

  He held open the door and they stepped into the dimly lit tavern-looking establishment. It never failed. As people realized a celebrity was in the house, they went quiet and then the whispering began.

  “You always cause such a stir?” Evie asked.

  He didn’t like it but it was part and parcel of the life he’d chosen. “That’s why I prefer Allstars,” he told her. “People have more respect for privacy. Come on. I see Emerson and a bunch of other guys on the team.”

  He gestured to a table where a bunch of his teammates sat with cleat chasers hanging all over them.