She tugged gently on Gracie’s arm until they were moving down the hall again. “This situation between you and Jake is news, Gracie. Big news. It’s my job to spin the story so it shows in the best possible light. Something I can’t do if my clients refuse to cooperate.”
“I’m not your client.”
“No, but Jake is. He’s also my best friend, and I won’t see him or his career hurt when I can do something to avoid it. Since the two of you are a package deal for the next three months, you’re in this, whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t.”
She pulled Gracie through the kitchen doorway and finally released her arm. “Yes, that much is obvious. I suggest we all sit down and you can explain why.”
Elbows leaning on the kitchen table, Jake sat alone, a deck of cards in one hand, a beer bottle in the other. He shrugged, bumping up a shoulder as if to say, don’t blame me, this was her idea.
Gracie paused inside the doorway and crossed her arms. Explain she was the love child of a league insider? Right. News? Hers was the kind of story that made journalism careers and destroyed lives. No way in hell. Whether her father knew of her existence or not, he didn’t deserve to be blindsided. Neither did his family, and she had no interest in having her face splashed across every rag and cable broadcast in the country. “I’d rather not.”
Jake sipped at his beer before setting the bottle aside. “You might as well talk to her. She’ll wear you down eventually. She’s stubborn.”
V smiled serenely at her friend and client.
Gracie shook her head. “Tell me about it. What’s her alma matter? Bull Dog State?”
His bark of laughter brought her a reluctant smile.
V huffed out a breath. “If you two don’t mind, I suggest we get to work.”
Gracie eyed the aftermath of his poker game. A dozen empty beer bottles sat on the counter behind him. A pile of multi-colored chips rested by one elbow. The stubs of several cigars lay in an otherwise clean ashtray.
“Where are the poker jocks, and I hope you didn’t smoke those things in here? Mary will have a fit.”
He chuckled. “Relax, princess. We stepped out back. V sent the poker jocks on their way so we could have our powwow.”
“With instructions to keep their big mouths shut.” V slid into the chair across from him. “But the clock is ticking. Whatever statement we come up with, we need to release it first thing tomorrow morning.”
Gracie swallowed back a rush of nausea. “You don’t need me for this. I don’t care what statement you put out as long as the girls are protected and it doesn’t include me.”
V sat back, her gaze intent. “We’ll protect the girls, but leaving you out of the press release is impossible.”
“Why? The press has plenty to chew on with Jake and his surprise sisters. You don’t need to mention me.”
Jake cocked his head. “Why would a woman who runs such a popular blog shy away from free publicity? I’d think you’d jump at the opportunity.”
The question hit a little too close to home. She crossed her arms. “Well, you’d be wrong.”
V leaned forward, her face deadly serious. “Unfortunately, you don’t have a choice. As soon as they learn Jake is here and in competition with you for the girls’ guardianship, you won’t have a moment’s peace. They won’t stop until they know everything about you.”
Unease bloomed into full-blown panic. “Fine. Make something up. Tell them I’m a maid from the Bronx or a clown with the circus, I don’t care, but keep my face out of the limelight and my name out of your press release.”
“Lies always come out, Gracie. I won’t jeopardize Jake’s career that way.”
True. But sometimes the truth was more dangerous than the lie. “Then tell them this. The twins’ maternal aunt is in the running for guardianship. At the end of the allotted time, a determination will be made and the situation settled. In the meantime, she wishes to retain her privacy.”
“They’ll never accept that.”
She was going to throw up. “They’ll have to, because that’s all they’re going to get.”
Chapter 15
“We’ve been invaded.” Mary’s voice shook breathlessly.
Gracie sat back in the coffee shop booth and tucked the phone closer to her ear. “Invaded? By whom?”
“I’m looking out the front window. There are three news vans outside the gate. You know, the one’s with the big satellite dishes?”
“Oh, shit.”
“Language, young lady.”
Gracie winced. “Sorry.”
“The phone hasn’t stopped ringing for the past hour. Reporters are calling, asking for Jake.”
Oh, God! She’d expected some type of fallout, but why hadn’t she considered they’d flock to the farm once V released the story this morning? “Are the girls all right?”
“They’re fine. Their bus arrived shortly before the first van showed up.”
“Thank God. Have you called Jake?”
“He’s on his way, as is Miss Price. He asked for your number and said he was going to call you. I wanted to warn you of what you’d be coming home to, in case he didn’t reach you.”
“I appreciate that.” More than she’d ever know. “Do me a favor? Call him back and tell him when he speaks to the press…” What? She’d made her wishes clear, but what of the girls? She didn’t want their pictures plastered all over the news any more than hers and with a crowd outside constantly, they’d become prisoners in their home. An unacceptable possibility, but would the press stay clear of the farm if he insisted?
She pulled her beeping phone from her ear to glance at the screen. Manic butterflies burst into flight in her belly. “Never mind, Mary. There he is now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She pressed the screen to switch calls and didn’t bother with a greeting. Anger and dread made her tone harsh. “Damn it, Malone. Why are the press at the farm?”
He snorted, a derisive burst of air. “You can’t be that naïve.”
“That’s not what I meant. Why are they at the farm? Why aren’t they chasing you down at the sports complex?”
“My guess is they consider the farm sexier than the stadium, and since they know about the will and its ridiculous stipulations, they know I’ll show up there eventually.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?”
“Where are you? I’ll pick you up. We can discuss how we’re going to handle things on the way home.”
Home? Since when did he consider the farm home? “Not on your life. This is your problem. I’m not coming anywhere near the farm until those people are gone.”
“How do you figure it’s my problem? Last time I checked, there were two of us thrown into this custody competition.”
She groaned and dropped her head into her free hand.
“Sorry, princess, but you don’t have a choice. Take my word for it. The crowd at the gate won’t be going anywhere until they get their story. Have you forgotten about the curfew stipulation?”
Her head snapped up. Crap. As a matter of fact, she had. She lied without qualm. “Of course not.”
“Then tell me where to meet you.”
She swallowed. Run the press gauntlet at the gate—with Jake at her side? No frigging way. If he couldn’t get rid of them, she wouldn’t be going through the gate. There was another way onto the property, but she didn’t look forward to using it. She glanced at her pretty, sex-on-heels boots and wanted to cry. “Don’t let them get any pictures of the girls, Malone. In fact, don’t let them get near them.”
“The girls are fine. Mary’s with them and V’s on her way over there. Where are you?”
“I’ll find my own way home. You get rid of the press.” She hung up before he could respond.
* * * *
Jake leaned a shoulder against the doorframe of the converted gym, crossed his arms, and settled in to see what Gracie would do next. His initial b
elief, when he spotted the unmistakably feminine figure dart from the woods at the back of the property, was one of the reporters gathered at the gate had decided to slip onto the property for a closer look. His promise to keep the twins out of the spotlight fresh in his mind, he left V to handle the mob and went in search of the determined press babe.
The wet snow made the effort easy. He followed the woman’s clearly defined trail straight to the barn, only then realizing his mistake when he arrived in time to watch her slip inside the door. Even at a distance, there was no mistaking Gracie’s fine ass in the hip hugging skirt or her long, slim legs.
Following her inside, he moved stealthily through the dimly lit hallway to stop in the open gym doorway where he nearly swallowed his tongue. Having already shed her coat and kicked off her boots, she bent over at the waist. With her back to him, she reached beneath her skirt and shimmied her hips as she peeled down the soaked netting of her panty hose.
His suddenly dry throat clicked on a helpless swallow. On closer inspection, he’d been right. Despite being red and chafed from the cold, her legs were definitely better wet.
“Holy crap, it’s cold!” She shivered visibly and glanced around. “Yes!” She rushed to the far wall and snatched down one of a half dozen fluffy towels from a rack.
His gaze flicked to her waterlogged boots and panty hose, discarded in a soggy heap in the corner, and swung back to her bare feet. He frowned. She’d obviously arrived back on the farm on foot, but how? From what he understood, the only other access to the estate was a gate at the far end of a half-mile dirt track through the woods. The gate was reportedly locked, and he didn’t think the track had been plowed.
Shit. Had she walked in? A desire for privacy wouldn’t account for such drastic measures, would it? The question was, what did?
Hopping on one foot, she swiped blindly at the other leg and stretched her neck in an attempt to peer out one of the high windows. Her low growl echoed through the room. After an equally ineffective brush over the other leg, she tossed aside the towel and bent at the waist to shove a weight bench up against the wall.
He ran his tongue around his teeth at the visual gift of her tight, short skirt riding up breathtaking thighs. He held his breath as the dark material rose, coming tantalizingly close to displaying a view rivaling Christmas morning and a lifetime of birthday gifts, all rolled in one.
Disappointment coursed through him when she straightened but quickly gave way to baffled amusement when she climbed onto the bench and plastered her body against the wall in a furtive crouch. She dipped her head to the side, barely quick enough to peek through the window with one eye then immediately jerked back.
“Shit! They’re still here.” She dropped her forehead to the wall on a soft whine.
He’d seen enough. Pushing off the doorframe, he crossed the room and stopped a foot from the bench. “Gracie.”
Her scream pierced the air. Only blind luck saved his nose from being broken when she whipped around. He flinched back, causing her flying elbow to glance off the side of his head. Momentum from her flailing arms threw her off balance. She started to topple sideways. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her off the bench and into his chest.
They stared at one another, nose to nose.
“I’m wondering what makes a seemingly sane woman trek through the woods in six inches of snow, simply to avoid a few reporters.”
Her breasts plumped against his chest when she drew in a ragged breath. “You scared me!”
“You nearly broke my nose. I’d say that makes us even. Now, answer my question.”
She squirmed against him in an attempt to free her pinned arms. “Put me down.”
He held her firm. “Answer the question first.”
She flattened her lips in a mutinous line. “I told you. I don’t want any part of your media circus.”
He tightened his arms marginally, refusing to feel guilty for enjoying the way her chilled curves molded to his frame from chest to knees. “I’m not buying it, princess. Nobody walks a half mile in the snow to avoid questions when a simple no comment will suffice.”
She shifted her wedged arms until her hands rested against his collarbone. Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits and her thigh brushed against his as she shifted one leg.
He contracted his arms in a bone-crushing squeeze. “Don’t even think about using that knee, or you’ll end up over mine.”
The mental image of Gracie draped ass up over his lap sent a rush of blood flooding toward his stiffening dick. Riotous color instantly flooded her cheeks, and he could swear the sensual image was reflected in her widened eyes. Her nipples, puckering beneath the silk of her blouse, stabbed his chest. She bit at her bottom lip.
Tempted to say the hell with it and drop his head the inch it would take to cover her mouth with his, the militant gleam in her eyes stopped him cold. Considering her surprising skill at laying him out in the foyer the other day, and his increasing hard-on, he was bound to sustain significant damage if she chose to call his bluff. He set her on her feet none too gently.
She skittered out of his reach, immediately heading across the room.
He sighed. “The truth, Gracie.”
The hesitation in her step was slight, but he noted it.
She continued to a cabinet in the far corner and opened the door. “I told you the truth. I can’t help you don’t believe me.”
She didn’t look his way, rummaging for something at the back of a high shelf. He didn’t need to see her face to know she was lying. The stiff movements of her body told the story, but with her quick temper, pushing her wasn’t going to get him any answers, at least not now. “What are you looking for?”
“Something to put on my feet. They’re freezing. Ah!” Her hand reappeared grasping a pair of sneakers. She dropped to a backless bench and bent over her thighs to shove a bare foot into one.
“You should’ve listened to me and changed your sexy boots. They’re ruined.”
She glared at him across the distance. “What are you doing in here? Why aren’t you out front, getting rid of the rabid wolves?”
“V is handling things. For now. But she’s only delaying the inevitable.”
She dropped her forehead to her knees and groaned.
He crossed the room and dropped to a crouch in front of her. “What’s going on, princess?”
She peeked at him from beneath thick lashes, her eyes wary. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Only someone with something to hide tromps a half mile through the snow to avoid driving through the front gate. What’d you do, rob a bank?”
“Of course not.”
“Did you steal a car? Sleep with a married politician?”
She narrowed her eyes.
“I know.” He snapped his fingers. “You’re a computer whiz, right? You hacked into the Pentagon.”
Her lips pulled tight. “Very funny.”
“I’m serious. This is all about custody of the girls for you, and that’s how it should be. They come first, but I also have my career to think about. I’m not sure if you’ve read the sports pages lately, but my reputation is in deep shit these days.”
“Which is your own fault.”
“Yeah, it’s my fault, but I’ve apologized. I’m doing the best I can here. Help me out a little. I can’t afford to give the press another scandal to chew on. If you’re hiding something I need to know about, tell me already and we’ll deal with it.”
She sat up. A bright slash of red stained her cheekbones, but her violet eyes met his. “I assure you, I’ve done nothing I need to spill. I haven’t slept with anyone’s husband, politician or otherwise, and the only law I’ve ever come close to breaking is jaywalking.”
Her eyes quickly skittered away. From her comments the other day, she was none too happy with the interest from the rabid wolves, but traipsing through the woods to avoid them qualified as more than an aversion to the limel
ight. Gracie had secrets. Secrets she wasn’t willing to share. Not today, at any rate. They’d have to do something about that. In the meantime, they still had to deal with the crowd at the gate.
“Then let’s sit down with V and figure out the best way to satisfy the mob out front. She’s brilliant at handling this type of thing.”
“If she’s as brilliant as you claim, she can handle things without my help. I told you. I want no part of this.”
He leaned in menacingly. “I’ll find out what you’re hiding, princess.”
“I’m not hiding anything!”
She shoved against his chest. He straightened away from her but remained balanced on the balls of his feet. The blush deepening on her cheeks pleased him immensely, until she lowered her lashes, shuttering the flickering shadows in her amazing eyes. Guilt or alarm? He wasn’t sure.
He shook his head. “Has anyone ever accused you of being stubborn?”
She bared her teeth in a daring smile. “Frequently. Has anyone ever accused you of the same?”
He grinned. “At least once a week.”
Cupping her chilly calf, he slid his palm down the sleek column of her lower leg. In a slow caress, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the firm tendons. The daring smile slid from her lips, and she blinked. He leaned in closer until her stilted breath bathed his lips. Sensual awareness glazed her eyes, and the pink tip of her tongue peeked out to wet her upper lip, right next to that sexy little mole, before disappearing again.
If she was playing him, the way she had in the foyer… Shit, who cared if she was playing him? The results would be well worth the risk. The blood drained from his head, flowing straight to his dick as, tempted beyond the edge of reason, he dipped his head and nibbled at the corner of her mouth.
She whimpered.
To Win Her Love Page 13