by Violet Paige
The woman behind the desk looked up from her phone.
“You can’t go up there.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t entirely surprised. I knew my badge didn’t give me unlimited access in the village. “Can you call him or something? I haven’t been able to reach him. It’s extremely important.”
“Are you his coach?” She smacked a piece of gum in her mouth.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Are you a trainer?”
“Um, no.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “You can wait, but your pass expires in two hours.”
“What? Why two hours?”
She pointed at my chest where the badge hung around my neck.
“There’s a village curfew. The gates close in two hours and you can’t be in here. It’s only open for athletes and coaches.”
“But I need to see Lachlan. It’s important.”
“You can wait for him here, but in two hours you have to leave.”
I pinched my forehead together. This was crap. I had to see him tonight. I thought about trying to explain how he was going to ruin my career. How if we had to push this game back or find another celebrity, he could ruin other people’s lives. People who had worked on the game. People in programming. People in marketing. His decisions affected an entire division of Revolution. I was their voice. Their champion. Saving the Kenzie game was bigger than me.
But as she smacked her gum and messaged someone on her phone, I realized she didn’t care what Lachlan Kenzie did.
I looked over my shoulder at the lobby accommodations. There were bright blue, red, and purple couches grouped together. Half of them were covered in athletes.
“Okay, I guess I’ll wait.”
She nodded her head. “Have a seat.”
I didn’t see what choice I had. She wasn’t going to give me his room number and there was no other way to find him in this chaos. I felt like I had stumbled into one of my old dorms, only instead of kids studying for finals, these people were built like gods and goddesses.
I straightened my pencil skirt and scooted into a corner of one of the blue couches.
I didn’t want to think what would happen if I didn’t see him in the next two hours.
I pulled up a picture of Lachlan on my phone. We had never met, but I was sure I would recognize that man anywhere.
I tried to look at him with a professional gaze. He was part of my portfolio. But in almost every picture I had of him, he was shirtless. His abs rippled with chiseled indentations. Most men weren’t made like Lachlan. He had jet black hair and eyes to match. He wore his shorts low on his hips, showing off the firm muscles of his chest and torso. Client. I reminded myself. Game ambassador.
But there was a reason Revolution had chosen him. He had fiery sex appeal. There was no denying how women reacted to him. Twenty-somethings thought he was a complete badass. The entire success of the game hinged on him being able to appeal to all ages. Our test markets in the US and UK liked him because of his bad boy image—but it had never been this bad before. I placed my phone face down, hoping I would see him walk through the lobby door any minute.
We couldn’t lose him. I smoothed the wrinkles out of my skirt and pulled my jacket together, covering my chest. There were two men having a conversation next to me in what I thought was Italian. They were clearly athletes. Arms and legs like that put them in the track and field category, but I wasn’t completely sure.
I wasn’t sure about a lot of things as the minutes ticked by.
7
Lachlan
I pushed through the door. I’d lost my appetite for partying tonight. Rick pissed me off. The team pissed me off. The media pissed me off. Everyone was coming at me and I couldn’t find any relief. I was knackered from the entire fucking day. I’d sleep it off.
But as soon as I stepped over the threshold, I heard my name.
I thought this place was supposed to be media-free. Did someone let one of those pissers in here?
I turned my head as a blonde ran toward me in a tight skirt. Her ass was poured into it. She was the only one in the lobby in a suit. I noticed her long legs were tan and firm. My eyes landed on her high heels.
“Lachlan, I’m Aspen Pitch from Revolution.”
I stopped. Holy fuck. This was who Revolution sent? I had done everything over the phone. I’d never met a single one of them. I let Rick handle it.
I raised my eyebrows after raking over her body. Her tan legs disappeared under the hem of her skirt. Her long hair fell in waves over her shoulders. She had the kind of lips I’d seen on enough models, but these were real, lush, and ready to be kissed. Was this some kind of a set up?
“How did you get in here?” I asked, skipping over the introductions.
“I have a pass.” She held up her badge as if I gave a shit about her credentials. “I’ve been waiting almost two hours for you.” She looked annoyed.
“Did you try calling?”
She glared at me. “Of course I did. You didn’t answer your phone. Neither did Rick, your agent. It’s been impossible to get in touch with you. We need to talk.” She sounded like a damn headmistress.
Rick warned me this was coming. I wasn’t in the mood. I hadn’t taken a call since I spoke with him. My phone was turned off for the rest of the day. But I couldn’t stop eyeing her. She was annoying, but sexy as fuck.
“I’m going to bed. I have practice tomorrow.” Truth was I hadn’t decided if I was going back to the stadium in the morning.
I tried to walk past her, but she jumped in front of me. “You don’t seem to understand how serious this is.”
“Sleep is serious.”
She sighed. “Your contract with Revolution is more serious. We need to discuss it. Do you not care about your game launch? It’s in jeopardy.”
She was gorgeous. I’d give her that. But I wasn’t going to let some American chick start dictating my life. I’d had enough of that today.
“Another time, love.”
Her blue eyes flared. “I’m not leaving until we speak.” She looked at her phone. “I only have fifteen minutes before they kick me out anyway. Let’s get started and schedule a meeting for tomorrow.”
“And why is that?” I asked.
“Curfew,” she huffed. “I don’t see how we can get this settled in fifteen minutes. There are a lot of items to go over. I’ve never had to work through something this radical before.”
I arched my eyebrows. She sounded like the kind of person who played by the rules.
I saw two suitcases next to the couch.
“Are those yours?” I asked, pointing to the bags.
She nodded. “Yes, I came straight from the airport. I haven’t checked into my hotel yet. Our meeting was my first priority. You need to realize this is my only interest in Rio.” She took a deep breath. “I have to tell you your game could be pulled from production. Do you have any idea what that would mean? Do you understand the amount of work that’s gone into it? The money? The creativity? This game is going to change soccer in America. Don’t you see that? Don’t you care?”
I took a step back and let her get the speech out of her system. She had probably been preparing it while waiting on the couch. The girl could talk.
I remembered why I had Rick handle this shit for me. I didn’t care about these kinds of details. I never pretended I wanted to be a role model.
If it wasn’t for her bright blue eyes and those lips, I wouldn’t even think about overlooking the fact that she was stuffy, controlling, and uptight. I could tell she was one of those women who liked to steer the ship. She probably stuck to a locked itinerary. It didn’t take five minutes with her to realize she was inflexible.
But I wasn’t the kind of man who shied away from a challenge. There was something about her. A strong energy that soared around her. An energy I suddenly wanted to harness. Fuck, it made me hard just thinking about it.
She exhaled.
“Are you finished?” I aske
d.
She nodded. “For now.”
“If you’re done with the bloody lecture, I think I have a solution for you,” I announced. There was a way I could make this work to my advantage.
“You do?”
I walked over to the couch and grabbed the suitcases. What in the hell did she pack in these things? They were heavy as shit.
“What are you doing?” She chased after me in her heels, clacking along the floor.
“You’re coming with me.” I hauled the bags to the lift.
“I can’t go up there,” she protested. “They won’t let me.”
“You can have all the access you want if I take you.” I winked.
I saw the instant blush on her cheeks. “But now we only have ten minutes. I’ll get locked in. It’s not enough time,” she protested.
“Would you rather get locked in with me or get locked out without me?” I posed the question.
Her eyes darted back and forth. “I am here to represent Revolution. This isn’t a joke to me. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing right now, but I’m not amused, Mr. Kenzie. Nothing about this is funny to me. Millions are on the line. Millions. And all you can think about is a way to get me in your room for the night.”
“I’m trying to help you and listen to what Revolution needs,” I lied. “Did I imply it was something else?”
The lift doors retracted. I stepped inside. “I’m going to my room. Are you coming with me or going back to your hotel?”
I held up the bags. I could easily set them outside of the doors, but I waited while she sorted through her choices. Truth was I liked watching her squirm.
“Fine,” she huffed, stepping inside with me. “But—”
The doors closed behind her.
“But what?”
She folded her arms over her chest.
“This is about your contract with Revolution. We’re discussing the game and your behavior in Rio.”
“We’ll see.”
I smiled for the first time all day.
8
Aspen
The elevator carried us to the twelfth floor. With each ding of the levels, my stomach did another flip. What in the hell was I doing? I was getting ready to spend my first night in Rio in the Olympic village. With Lachlan Kenzie.
I should be tucked into a nice, plush hotel bed with down pillows and crisp white sheets.
“What is your roommate going to say?” I asked nervously.
My belly twisted in knots. I felt as if I was sneaking into an all-boys dorm. I wasn’t eighteen anymore, but the feeling was the same. I was breaking rules. Crossing boundaries. Abandoning all my common sense.
“I don’t have one.”
I followed him down the hall.
“Why not?” I remembered reading something about how the athletes were paired together based on sports.
“The wanker didn’t want to room with me.”
I started to worry that the problems with Lachlan were greater and deeper than today’s headlines. Then I felt the panic of being utterly alone with the British playboy. Yes, a roommate would have been awkward, but at least I wouldn’t have been on my own.
He pushed the door open. I stared at the minimal amount of furniture. There were two twin beds covered in gaudy comforters decorated with whimsical sports logos, two night stands, and two plywood wardrobes. It wasn’t much to house the world’s best athletes. I immediately regretted not rescheduling this meeting for tomorrow. I wanted a hot shower and privacy. I wanted my hotel room and room service. I was starving and exhausted.
And I realized the way Lachlan’s dark eyes followed my every move had started to do something to me. I chewed my bottom lip nervously.
I walked toward the small, boxy window. The pools below were now illuminated. I could see the Olympic rings glowing on the bottom of each pool.
I turned around when I heard Lachlan’s gruff voice.
“Like the view?”
I swallowed hard, trying not to focus on the fact that I was in a small room with the notorious athlete. Alone. I could almost feel the heat radiating off his skin. There was no room to breathe in here.
I moved from the window and rummaged through my bag, looking for my notes on the Kenzie game, which was on the top page. “It’s fine. Not as nice as my hotel, but we have business to discuss.”
I sat on the edge of one of the twin beds. I noticed the sheets were still folded. Lachlan hadn’t made his bed. It looked as if his bag was untouched.
“Have you been here today?”
“No. First time in the room, actually. We moved in today. The team though it would show unity. I didn’t have much say.”
That explained why he went on a documented drinking and whoring spree through Rio last night. He knew it would be harder to party inside the fence.
“What do you think about the village so far?” I asked.
He walked toward me, towering over the bed. His body was lean and athletic. He may not have been disciplined in his personal life, but I doubted he ever skipped workouts. His arms bulged against the thin fabric on his short sleeves. I wanted to look away, but my eyes were glued to his toned limbs.
“I’m not much of a team player, Ms. Pitch. I don’t feel the need to be in the village. It’s a little rustic for my taste.”
“Are you saying you don’t care about being here for the Olympics?”
I was trying to figure him out. Focusing on his motives was better than getting sucked in by his rugged jawline and penetrating eyes.
“I’m only here because people like you want me here.”
I felt the jab at the reason for tracking him down. He had an open disdain for my position.
“People like me?”
“Yes.” His eyes glowered. “If I’m not at the games, it somehow costs you money. That’s all you care about. That’s why you’re here. Your puppet didn’t perform today so you flew down to pull his strings a little tighter. Polish him for the next performance.”
“That’s insulting.” I threw the open folder on the bed.
“But true.” He stared at me and I felt my pulse beat faster. “I don’t like being your puppet.”
“Puppet? I’m here to save the Kenzie game. Your game. You should be grateful someone is in your corner.”
“Grateful?” he scoffed.
I jumped off the bed. “Do you have any idea what kind of PR nightmare is in front of you? I read the latest on you while I was in the lobby. It’s gotten worse since I landed in Rio. You lost three sponsorships today. Three. And your agent. You might get sued by a sleazy photographer because you knocked him to the ground in front of a crowd of people. Your team apparently hates you and there’s talk you’re not even going to play after that stunt you pulled at the stadium today.” I pressed my hands on my hips. “You left your team before an Olympic practice. Who does that?”
“So, yes. Grateful. You should be grateful you have someone left who hasn’t dropped you like the toxic train wreck you are.” My hands flew to my mouth. I was worked up. It was a long anxious day of waiting and traveling. I said more than I should have. I instantly regretted it.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry.”
Once I started I couldn’t stop. Everything came tumbling out.
“Anything else?” he asked.
I shook my head. I had lost all professionalism. All composure. I couldn’t meet his eyes.
“If you’re done, I was thinking about taking a shower.” He tugged on the hem of his T-shirt and peeled it over his chest.
My mouth hung open.
He wanted me to see his perfect body. How it was crafted into sharp angles and ridges that met more planes of firm muscles.
He strolled across the room and turned on the light in the bathroom. The glow of lights behind him contrasted with his tanned skin and hair. His broad shoulders filled the doorway.
“But the game,” I protested. I knew I owed him a better apology—I had speared him.
“I’l
l be out in a few, love.”
He closed the door and I stared in disbelief.
I heard the shower sputter to life on the other side of the door. I was out of my element. I was in over my head. Lachlan Kenzie was in control, and suddenly I felt as if I were back on that airplane getting ready to take off.
9
Lachlan
I had to stand under a cold shower. Her scent filled my room. I needed to wash the heat off my skin. I needed the cold water to calm my cock. I’d never been so turned on by a tongue lashing in my life. Her eyes sparkled and her pouty lips puckered and danced when she spoke. We didn’t even know each other, but it was clear I had gotten under her skin. And as hard as my dick was, she had gotten under mine.
Part of what she said was true. She might be my last chance. Rick was gone. The team hated me. All I had was this pretty girl from America, ready to throw everything in to save me.
She was the only one who rushed to Rio. The other companies had dropped me without a phone call. I didn’t want to know what that was going to cost me. No one else was here, but this fucking sex temptress who held the key to my fortune’s future.
I ran my fingers through my hair, soaping the strands with shampoo. The problem was I couldn’t think about my career. I couldn’t think about football. All I could think about was what I wanted to do with Aspen in my room. I’d never wanted a woman like this.
I leaned my forehead against the cool tiles. My dick was as hard as a rock. Fuck.
I turned off the water and reached for my towel.
Once I opened that door, she was going to lay into me about cleaning up my image. I’d heard it before. I knew the words before she said them. She probably had a five-point plan ready to go. But how could I concentrate on anything other than her sweet lips?
I wrapped the towel around my waist, not bothering to dry off. I opened the door, letting a wave of steam hit the bedroom before walking out.
“Oh my God. You have to put on some clothes.” Aspen shielded her eyes with her hands.