It destroyed Liam’s resolve. He lost sensation in the lower half of his body. His feet failed to move. The treadmill, on the other hand, kept moving. And in a split second, in a room full of the finest athletes America had to offer, Liam Connelly found himself on his ass on the ground, an empty treadmill spinning its boards in front of him.
Someone, somewhere, made a whooping sound. Supposed friends shouted “Nice job, old man” and “Way to go, Connelly.” But Liam’s eyes were riveted on the mirror, on the image of a woman shrugging into her warm up jacket, an expression on her face telling him that she knew exactly what had happened. And what she had done. On purpose.
When she hadn’t beaten him on the treadmill, she’d used any available weapon to kick his ass. Including her body.
What would she do to win this thing with Troy?
Liam felt like ice water had been poured down his back.
It was time to take Spencer Hightower seriously.
In ten minutes, Liam was in Troy’s room, sweaty, embarrassed, and demanding that Troy listen. NOW.
A spread of snacks and drinks was on the coffee table. The TV was on, to ESPN, naturally, and Troy reclined on the couch, Pastor Langston and George Clayton flanking him.
“What is this about?” The pastor demanded. A guilty expression crossed Troy’s face. Troy hadn’t told his spiritual adviser about the presumed virgin’s paternity claim. That was probably par for the course.
Spilling the beans couldn’t be helped. With a quick brush, Liam explained the situation to Langston, who seemed less than surprised. Liam guessed the pastor had doubtless heard thousands of similar tales.
“This is how it’s going to be,” Liam coached his client. “She’s not playing.” Spencer had been circulating among the team owners all day, he told Troy. She was in tight with them, and in tighter with Franklin Mahoney, the guy who was going first in the Draft pick.
Liam spelled it out to Troy. From the looks of it, Spencer Hightower somehow was manipulating the NFL Draft through the owners. “She can’t do that, can she?” Troy asked.
Liam could tell from Troy’s face that he’d gotten through. Finally. He was scared. Spencer was hitting him where it would hurt. Troy’s football career was on the line, and with it, Liam’s future. He bit down the panic, determined to keep his head in the game.
George stayed silent, making Liam do the talking, making Liam the bad guy. Fine. Whatever. Shoot the messenger. Liam threw up his hands. “Maybe. Yes. Who knows? She gave us an ultimatum—paternity test by the Draft or she’ll go public. Our sources tell us she’s got the whole press conference already set up at Dallas State. If she can get you held off, she’ll do it. If she’s got Mahoney’s ear….” Liam shook his head. “Do you want to take that chance?”
“She doesn’t have anything,” the Pastor spoke up, his authoritative bass sounding like it did at the pulpit. “This young man only has to answer to God. If he says the baby is not his, that’s it. His record will speak for itself, not the machinations of this Ms. Hightower.”
“I think you underestimate the efficacy of machinations,” George said deferentially. “Christ himself was brought down by political machinations.”
The feeling of dancing with the devil came back to Liam.
George continued. “Although I agree with you about the test. He shouldn’t agree to it. No paperwork. No medical records. Now, if he still wants to offer some sort of payment to the young woman…”
The Pastor cut George off. “Payment? For an accusation? That’s blackmail!”
“That’s a business expense,” George replied. “An investment in a very promising football career, and who knows? Politics? Public speaking? The ministry?”
Troy jumped up from the sofa, his long, muscular legs propelling him like a rocket. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here! I get a say! And where is all this money coming from anyway? I don’t have any-that’s what Liam’s for…”
Everyone shifted their attention to Liam.
“What do you think?” Troy asked. “You’re my agent. I want to play ball. Is Dalynn going to keep me from playing ball?”
The weight of the world settled on his shoulders. Or more accurately, the weight of Troy’s career. Langford and Clayton had their own concerns and their arguments had merits. But Liam knew the business. Knew football. Knew what Spencer could do-maybe what she had done-to Troy’s prospects.
“You’ll play ball,” Liam reassured Troy. “You just may not get the contract we were planning on.”
Troy stood a little straighter, like he was preparing for a punch. “First round?”
Liam gave a little shake of his head. “Not if this comes out. Someone will take you. Your numbers are too good. But the prize money goes first. And they’re not spending it on someone who’s got a big old scandal poppin’ up.” Lying liar. Spencer’s words floated in Liam’s memory. He recognized it all now. She knew what she was doing, and she had them in a tight corner. Only one play was left.
Troy was silent for a few long moments. “No,” he finally said. Which confused almost everyone in the room before he set his jaw and continued, “I’ll take the test.”
Liam nodded in approval and patted Troy on the back while he got out his phone and dialed. “Meet me in ten.”
…
Spencer’s moment of triumph lasted all of ten seconds before Liam dropped his second bombshell.
“You wouldn’t,” she said.
“That’s the deal, take it or leave it.”
Her brows drew together. “And what makes you think you have that kind of power?”
Liam spread his arms at the media madness surrounding them. They were meeting in plain sight of dozens of print and television journalists, just two more hangers on, wheeling and dealing, that no one was paying attention to. “These guys say I have the power.”
“You can’t block access to every station.”
“If Dalynn goes public before we get a result, I’m pulling all of OPM’s athletes from whatever station you use, whatever publication you use. And I’ll let them all know, if they go with Dalynn’s story, they’re not getting an OPM athlete for a very, very long time, and I’ll let everyone know it’s thanks to you. Plus, we drop a few bombshells of our own.”
Spencer raised a questioning brow.
“You’re not the only one with a private investigator on the Dallas State campus,” Liam explained.
“And when we do get a result?” Spencer wanted to make sure she inspected every angle, every nuance before committing to anything.
“Hush hush, just like you said. I understand these things are confidential in Texas, but Dalynn’s going to sign a few extra pieces of paper to ensure she stays quiet.” Liam lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I have a responsibility for my client. And his hypothetical child.” He offered his hand, to close the deal. “And future baby mamas don’t need to hear about this.”
Spencer waited for the flare of battle to rise in her chest. But different kinds of responses settled and nested. Satisfaction. Respect. Satisfaction in a hard won compromise, fair and equitable. Respect for a man who was brokering that compromise, doing exactly what she would have done.
She accepted Liam’s handshake. “We have a deal.”
…
The doctor swabbed the inside of Troy Duncan’s cheek and handed the thin stick topped with cotton to the nurse. The nurse slipped the swab into the pre-labeled plastic bag and sealed it. Spencer stepped forward, held out her cell phone, and snapped a picture of the sealed bag and the label. With a tap, the picture was sent to Rainey, who was standing in Dalynn’s obstetrician’s office in Dallas. In a second, it was done. Spencer murmured her thanks to the doctor and the nurse as they left the hotel suite.
“What now?” Troy asked, belligerence present in his voice, and in his posture as he slouched in the chair.
“The New York lab will overnight the sample to Dallas. We should know in a week or so.”
“What about the D
raft?” Liam asked her after Troy had signaled something to him.
Spencer met his even stare. “What about it?”
“Are you talking to the press?”
“I don’t see any reason to.” She switched her attention from Liam to Troy and tried to sound friendly. “You’re either the baby’s father or you’re not. I hope you understand that this was only about securing a name and a future for Dalynn’s child. Everyone wants to see you succeed.”
Troy still looked skeptical at Spencer’s reassurances. “Can I see you out in the hall?” Liam asked her, more curt than she would like.
Liam shut the door to Troy’s room behind them. In a flash, Spencer was nervous. It was a rare experience. She could count on one hand the number of times that had happened to her in the past five years. And at least three of them were due to Liam.
Liam stayed quiet, as well.
“Are we okay?” she asked, wishing she sounded more confident.
He nodded. Again, she wondered if he was nervous, too, or too mad to speak. The cool, calm, and collected Spencer had disappeared. In her place was the trembling, tortured, and tense Spencer. Not her style.
“Okay.” She knew it was the lamest way ever to end a conversation. Then she proved herself wrong by adding, “See you later.” Spencer gave him another second to say something-anything. Anything would be good. But he just lanced her with a blue gaze and a tight, tense jaw. Before she did something really embarrassing, she nodded and backed away.
Chapter Thirty
Seeing Troy with the cotton swab in his mouth, Liam had been wracked with doubt. He’d failed Troy. He hadn’t stood up for his client. He’d surrendered to the enemy.
Liam jerked the minibar door and twisted a beer bottle open. No. He made the best decision with the information he had at the time. He protected Troy’s chances at the Draft, got rid of a pesky legal issue, and arranged complete confidentiality. It was a good deal, just like all the deals he brokered for his client. There was nothing to regret.
He had it all, everything he’d ever wanted, plus something he’d never known he had. A connection with someone like Spencer Hightower, a woman who had done the unthinkable and made him think that forever sounded pretty good.
The dark thoughts swirling at the edge of his mind were going to go away, if he just ignored them. She’d never sleep with him, just to soften him up. The idea made him take another drag on his beer. If she were that kind of woman, she’d have given in a hell of a lot earlier. Too many years of suspicions and lies were making him think this way.
When there was a knock at the door, he knew he had made the right decisions. For all the right reasons. When he opened the door and found Spencer, he was gutted. She was smart, beautiful, fierce, and, when he pulled her into his arms, she was his.
…
Wrapped up in a large male body and twisted sheets, both exhausted and exhilarated, Spencer declared it was the best morning ever. All she needed was coffee and she would want nothing more out of life. And then, her man picked up the phone and ordered coffee from room service.
Spencer sighed and snuggled up to Liam, who she had discovered during the night had a delightful endurance. When she’d complimented him on it, he’d assured her it was due to years of athletic training. Which had made her laugh because that was a team she needed to see. The laughter warmed her heart as much as his skills warmed her body.
A few minutes later, a knock sounded on the door. “Mr. Connelly, room service.”
Liam got out of bed, stepped into his jeans and answered the door. Carrying the tray, Liam gave her a wink. “Sugar and creamer?”
“Yes, please.”
Liam poured the coffee, doctored it just the way she liked it, and even stirred. Spencer sighed as Liam brought her a cup. Best. Morning. Ever.
Liam nuzzled her shoulder as she leaned against him in the bed. She knew the cuddling wouldn’t last. Most men started off strong and eventually got to a point where they stopped trying, rolled over, and went to sleep. But, hey, by that point, she wouldn’t mind it. She would enjoy the Liam she had now and worry about the rest later.
Later. The fact that there could be a later was blowing her mind. After Troy’s test, she wasn’t sure they had successfully navigated the awkward ground rules they’d agreed on after sleeping together. Liam had been tense and distant and she’d feared the worst. But when she’d knocked on his door, all doubts vanished. All thoughts of Troy and Dalynn and paternity tests melted away as they stripped each other down and focused on getting to know each other again. And again. And again.
Spencer smiled to herself even as he reached for the remote. It showed how relaxed she was, how utterly content she was that she didn’t even mind him reaching for the remote. After all, he had gotten her coffee. How could she resist?
He stopped when he saw her eyes on the remote. “I just need to check on…work.” He had the grace to pause, at least, but she understood his excuse. Work crept up on you then demanded your attention. It wasn’t personal.
“Go for it,” she offered before taking another sip of coffee. For hotel room service, it wasn’t bad.
The television flicked on, and it took Spencer a second to realize they were watching ESPN. Of course he was. She figured she’d better get used to it, being with a jock and a sports agent to boot. Surely, it would be more entertaining than the CSPAN that one of her exes used to enjoy.
It was a testament to Spencer’s relaxed contentment that it took another few seconds before she realized what was on ESPN. The coffee cup kept her from jumping up faster. “LIAM!” She glared at him. “What are you doing here?”
Liam tried looking innocent as though he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. He lifted an arm and brushed his fingers through his hair, only exaggerating his messy bed head. “What?”
Spencer sighed and put the coffee cup on the bedside table. She needed both hands for this. And then she shoved him. “Get down there. What are you doing up here?”
“Nothing yet.” His eyebrows waggled a suggestion as he looked at her, naked in the bed sheets.
Spencer made an exasperated noise and pointed at the TV. “The Draft is about to start. You have work to do.”
Liam didn’t move. “It’s all done. We have other agents downstairs. Troy has his people. The Pastor and his mom flew in yesterday. They’ll call if they have something important.” He reached out for her. “I want to be here.”
Spencer glanced at the ceiling and counted to five. Deep breaths. Stupid men. She let a long breath out and then glared at the idiot in her bed. “I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t care if you go to work. Lord knows, I jump out of bed occasionally when work calls.”
He still didn’t look convinced. And he still wasn’t moving. Lord help her.
“You have five minutes. Or I’m leaving.”
That made him frown. “Over this?”
She threw her legs off the side of the bed, threatening to leave. “Someone needs to represent Troy.”
“Fine,” He huffed as he threw his legs out of the bed and headed to the shower. “Who knows what kind of deal you’d have him agreeing to.”
Spencer stared at the really nice example of a male ass as he strolled to the bathroom. No doubt he knew she was watching. “I think I’d get him a great deal,” she called out as the sound of water came from the bathroom.
Liam poked his head out, his invitation plain. Spencer bit her lip and jumped out of the bed in a second, ready to see wet, hot tattoos again.
It took more than five minutes, and Liam’s hair was still damp when he ran out the door after Spencer sent him off with a kiss. She truly didn’t mind him going. No one understood better than she. And it wasn’t like he wasn’t coming back to her. It was in her bones. Liam Connelly was hers.
If she wanted him.
And vice-versa. It was terrifying and electrifying, in the best ways.
She took her time getting ready. Although Liam had made sure she was thorou
ghly clean in the shower, she still had hair to dry and makeup to apply. The TV was tuned to ESPN and the first round Draft pick was Troy Duncan, to the San Antonio Renegades.
Spencer had selected a red and black silk dress before Troy had his picture taken with a red and black Renegades jersey, a brand new Renegades baseball cap perched at an awkward angle on his head.
Chapter Thirty-One
As is appropriate for a billionaire owner of a sports franchise, Franklin Mahoney had a two-story New York penthouse with breathtaking views, priceless antiques, and lots of beautiful women.
Liam only had eyes for one of them.
Spencer wore the kind of dress that would drive a man crazy, if he allowed himself to get close. Silky and light, hugging her body in all the right places. Damn, Liam wanted to take her here and now. By some sort of tacit agreement, he and Spencer had kept their distance during the party. Liam hadn’t been surprised when he’d seen her show up. According to his sources, she had a long time personal and professional relationship with Mahoney, and it showed.
The old man put his hands on Spencer more often than Liam liked. Mahoney winked at her and beckoned her over to private conversations. It seemed harmless, but that didn’t help matters. He wanted to claim her, put an arm around her waist, keep her at his side. She’d compared him to a caveman last time he had behaved that way, so Liam kept himself on a leash. And kept watching her.
She watched him, too. Their eyes would meet. Secret smiles were exchanged. No one noticed and it made him want to find one of the five bathrooms in the place, drag her into it, and find out what she was wearing under that dress that didn’t show panty lines.
Yeah, he looked.
What man could resist?
Troy was the big man tonight, celebrated and surrounded by the new team management, OPM agents, and friends and family. He deserved it. Troy had the talent and personality to have a long, lucrative career, and Liam was excited to celebrate with him.
Troy interacted with one of Mahoney’s harem. He was a healthy, red-blooded young man, and it was clear he was interested in the young lady. Liam hadn’t cared about Troy’s claims of virginity. Yeah, they were unlikely, but he didn’t get involved in what people did in their bedrooms. He only cared about what happened in his. Which made him search for Spencer again.
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