To Win Her Love

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To Win Her Love Page 22

by Mackenzie Crowne


  He glanced away too quickly, looking at their entwined fingers. “Did you ever try to contact your father?”

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. He was like a dog with a bone. “No.”

  “Why not? Aren’t you curious about him?”

  So curious she’d become a football junkie in a pitiful attempt to share something of his life. She shrugged. “I’m a computer geek, remember? With a couple of keystrokes, I learned everything there is to know about him.”

  He cocked his head in question. “Does he know about you?”

  Ughhh! “I have no idea.” She shifted to leave the bed.

  He tightened his hold on her fingers to prevent her from going.

  His intent gaze tangled with hers and stayed. “With your computer skills, you’d be able to find out about anyone, but with most people the data available is limited. Unless he’s a public figure.” He left the unspoken question dangling.

  Her heart lodged in her throat. The less said the better, but if she was going to avoid being steamrolled into confessing all, she’d have to rely on his compassion. If he had any.

  She sighed. “A public figure with a family I’m not willing to destroy. You, of all people, know how vicious the press can be. Please, Jake, drop it.”

  Chapter 26

  “Good morning, lovebirds.” V breezed into the kitchen the next morning, shortly after the girls and Mary left for the day, and crossed to the coffeepot.

  Gracie choked on her coffee. Jake whipped his head around to follow V. “Do you want to explain that comment?”

  V carried her mug back to the table and slid into an open chair. Tugging the folded newspaper from under one arm, she tossed the morning edition on the table between Gracie and Jake. Gracie almost knocked over her mug as she snatched the paper toward her. He immediately rose and rounded the table to stand at her side.

  “Shit.” He bent at the waist, slapping a big hand on the table beside the paper and began reading.

  Dismay cut off Gracie’s air supply like strangling fingers. She scanned the front page, but there was no need to read the article. The large photo and accompanying headline were bad enough.

  “‘Custody Battle Or Hideaway For Country Lovers?’”

  She slid her hand over her mouth. “Oh, no!”

  “Oh, yes.” V locked her unhappy gaze on Jake. “I’m not even going to ask what you were thinking.”

  An instant blush heated Gracie’s cheeks.

  Jake straightened at her side. “Good. My personal life is none of your business. Nor is it theirs.” He jerked his chin toward the paper.

  V snorted delicately. “You know better than that. What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t we have enough to deal with already without you letting your Johnson do your thinking?”

  He propped his hands on his hips. “Leave my Johnson out of this.”

  “I wish I could.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, the reason I’m here at this ungodly hour is because I’ve been on the phone since six doing spin control. Tom called and woke me.”

  Gracie went cold and couldn’t control her gasp. Oh, dear Lord. She glanced away from Jake’s concerned gaze.

  “Doug Costa is on the warpath.” V pointed a finger at his face. “He wants to see you in his office at one today.”

  Gracie moaned. Holy hell. What had she done? Jake rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, obviously reading her anxiety as concern over what this new uproar would mean to his career. Which was true—partly, but not completely.

  “Relax, princess. He doesn’t have a leg to stand on, and he knows it.”

  V laughed harshly. “Tell him that.”

  “I’d rather tell him to go fuck himself.”

  Unhappy color bloomed on V’s cheekbones. “Oh, that’s lovely.” She slipped her phone from her pocket. “Let me get him on the line. I’m sure he’d appreciate hearing your response personally.”

  “I mean it, V. I didn’t fight him on the fine, but this isn’t business. This is my private life and has nothing to do with him or the league.”

  Gracie slapped her fingers to her forehead. Oh, if you only knew. Neither of them paid her any attention. He swept up his empty coffee mug and stalked to the pot.

  V arched a perfectly shaped brow at his back. “He obviously disagrees.”

  Jake spun around. “Tough shit. Call Tom back. It’s his job as player liaison to run interference in cases like this. He can use whatever language he wants as long as he lets Costa know I’m not taking his shit on this one.”

  V rolled her eyes, all but snarling her disapproval, and shifted her angry stare to Gracie.

  She blinked. Silly her. In her haze of pleasure at playing family with Jake and the others who visited the farm, she’d forgotten first and foremost, V was his publicist. The realization hurt, but the truth was, what Gracie saw as a potential for friendship was nothing more than V’s single-minded attention to Jake’s career.

  She flinched when V tapped a red-lacquered fingernail to the photo filling the front top fold of the paper. The photographer captured the moment she’d thrown herself into Jake’s arms yesterday. Though her face was obscured, thanks to Jake’s voracious kiss, the image clearly showed her wrapped around his body like a clinging vine.

  V’s Texas twang sharpened with her anger. “If you’re going to insist on remaining out of the spotlight, this is not the way to achieve your goal.”

  “V!”

  His barked warning wasn’t necessary. Gracie fought her own battles. As he approached the table with his mug, she lifted her chin and met and held V’s angry blue glare. “Do I need to point out that picture was taken while I was on the porch of my home? My private, secluded home. Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated.”

  V’s flinty blue gaze flashed with frustration before she slumped back with a long sigh. Her eyes slid shut momentarily, and she forked her fingers into the curls at her temples. They held an apology when she opened her eyes once more. She dropped her hands to the tabletop. “I’m sorry. Truly. I don’t mean to take this out on you. On either of you, but I’ve had a bitch of a morning.” She jerked her chin toward the mug in front of her. “And that’s my first cup of coffee.”

  Gracie nodded her acceptance of the apology and swallowed against the guilt gnawing at the lining of her belly. V had good reason to be pissed. She’d warned Gracie the press wouldn’t give up. They both had, but had she listened? Of course not.

  She shifted her gaze between V’s dismayed frown and Jake’s angry scowl. Her stubbornness had accomplished exactly what she’d been trying to avoid. In her blind attempt to protect her secret, she’d drawn the attention of the league’s front office. Worse, she’d dragged Jake into this mess with her. The fact she’d already decided to give the press a statement only made her feel like a bigger heel.

  Jake claimed V was brilliant at handling spin. Gracie hoped he was right. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. Would it help if I agreed to speak with the press or has the time passed already?”

  Jake dropped into his chair, surprise wrinkling his brow.

  V sat forward. “That depends.”

  “On?”

  “On whatever it is you’re hiding.”

  She stiffened and sliced Jake with an accusing glare. Frigging blabber-mouth.

  He cocked his head and met her gaze steadily. “Really? When you’ve been sneaking around the farm like a guilty wraith for weeks. Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t have to say a word.”

  She’d love to argue his point. Unfortunately, she couldn’t.

  V cleared her throat. “Your secrets are your business. The last thing we want to do is pry.”

  “Speak for yourself.” He slumped back in his chair.

  V rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, Jake.”

  “So am I.”

  Narrowing her eyes, Gracie met his smug smirk with a scowl.

  “My point is,” V continued
, “if what you’re hiding will hurt Jake’s image, I’d prefer you keep your distance from the microphones.”

  “Fuck the microphones.”

  Gracie’s gaze snapped back to his. The smug smile was gone, and the pleading intensity in his eyes set her girl parts to quivering and her heart to pounding.

  He sat forward to cover her hand with his. “Talk to me, baby. Tell me his name.”

  Not fair. How was she supposed to keep a clear head when he dropped his voice to a crooning purr? He didn’t clarify who he meant and didn’t need to. He’d asked directly after the man’s identity yesterday and clearly concluded her father was the source of her fears. Tough luck for her, he was right.

  Ignoring him seemed the best bet. She met V’s concerned gaze. “I’d as soon keep my distance from the microphones period, but that’s not an option any longer, is it?”

  “It never was, sweetie, and you didn’t answer my question.”

  “I promise you, nothing in my past can harm Jake’s image.”

  V nodded, apparently satisfied.

  Jake wasn’t. He shoved back from the table and pushed to his feet. Grumbling beneath his breath about stubborn women, he stalked from the room without sparing her another glance. She wanted to call him back and plead with him to understand. She remained silent and started slightly when V squeezed her hand on the tabletop.

  “You’ve tweaked his ego. He’s not used to women who don’t jump to do his every bidding. Well, except for me.” She smiled softly.

  A smile tugged at Gracie’s mouth then dimmed quickly. “He wants me to talk to him about things I don’t discuss.”

  “He wants your trust.”

  She knew that and wished she could give it. She couldn’t. Not in this case. She shrugged helplessly.

  V spoke hesitantly, and what she said proved Jake wasn’t the blabbermouth Gracie accused him of being in her mind. “Gracie, it’s none of my business but, if some man hurt you, you should talk to someone about it.”

  “Oh, no!” She shook her head. “Oh, God, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s…complicated.” She shrugged. “Believe me, there are a whole lot of people who would be better off if I kept my mouth shut. Including Jake.”

  V considered her in silence for a moment then nodded. “All right, but if you change your mind and need someone to talk to, I hope you’ll come to me. I’m a great listener and spin control is my specialty.”

  “You don’t say?”

  V grinned. “And don’t worry about Jake. He’ll get over it. Now, speaking of spin control.”

  * * * *

  This is a bad idea. A very bad idea.

  Only sheer force of will, and Jake’s arm, kept Gracie in place. Despite the oversized sunglasses covering her eyes, she blinked at the flashing cameras and dug her fingernails into her palms in an effort to ignore the urge to flee.

  Tweaked ego or not, Jake seemed to sense her faltering courage or maybe her shaking in her calf-skin and goat hair, furry white knockoffs clued him in. He gave her shoulders a squeeze and dipped his head to whisper in her ear. “Picture them naked. It’s what I do.”

  She snapped her head around and up to meet his gaze.

  He jerked back and barely avoided her head butting him in the nose. He grinned at yet another near miss and dipped his head once more to rest his cheek against hers. “Relax, princess. V knows what she’s doing. Watch.”

  She wasn’t sure whether to punch him or kiss him when he nipped at her earlobe before straightening. Either way, she couldn’t suppress the shiver. When he chuckled, the scale tipped toward the punch, but clobbering him would have to wait.

  Cool and serene, V addressed the vultures, laying out the story they’d agreed on for the statement. Denying the two of them were involved in a hot and heavy affair was out of the question, considering the picture on the front page of the paper, but everyone loved a love story, V had insisted. Why not use that to their advantage?

  Like a bard of old, she wove a dreamy tale of boy meets girl, where the handsome, famous boy and lovely, talented girl overcome their public difference of opinion to care for orphan twin girls and find romance in the process. If she wasn’t so nervous, Gracie would’ve laughed at the predicted response of the vultures.

  With the exception of a particularly cynical press babe named Dina Sutton, who made her doubt clear with a constant smirk, the vultures bought V’s story like romance readers at a paperback convention. They latched onto the romantic element of the story with single-minded intensity and went wild when V played their ace in the hole. After V announced Gracie’s online identity, all interest in her true identity evaporated beneath a voyeuristic desire for juicy details.

  Jake wore his most charming smile, skirting the more pointed questions. He worked Dina and the crowd like the pro he was. Innuendo and charm were his weapons, and he wielded them expertly. As previously agreed, he also fielded the questions directed at Gracie. Except for Dina, whose narrowed eyes gave Gracie the willies, the press didn’t seem to notice. That suited her fine. Her energy was focused on not throwing up. If she’d been forced to speak, there was a good chance a scandal of a different kind would be documented on the front pages of tomorrow’s morning editions.

  When, at last, V pronounced the press conference ended, relief made Gracie’s legs weak. She wasn’t stupid. The vultures’ dangerous attentions wouldn’t simply fade away, but she’d accomplished what she set out to do. The mob had their story and, thanks to her subtle disguise, her resemblance to her mother wouldn’t be evident in any of the pictures they snapped.

  Jake kept tight hold of her arm and turned her toward the farmhouse. She shuffled alongside him on wobbly legs and shoved the sunglasses higher on her nose. Those colored contacts she’d teased Max about were beginning to sound like a good idea. The moment they got back inside the house, she was going online to order a half dozen pair.

  * * * *

  Ten minutes later, Jake disconnected the call with a satisfied grunt. Tom was right. Hiring a private detective was a bad idea and unnecessary when almost everything could be found online these days. He might not have Gracie’s skills at accessing information on the web, but he had connections who did. She’d asked him to drop the subject of her father, claiming the man’s family would be hurt should his identity become known. In the meantime, keeping the man’s secret was tearing her apart. Recalling the fine tremors wracking her sleek body as she faced the press at last, he refused to feel guilty about utilizing his connections.

  If loving a woman meant suffering an irresistible need to shield her from harm, the question of what he felt for Gracie had been answered. His gut clenched with panic, but he’d never been a man to deny the truth. Like the girls, Gracie had found a way into his heart. What he should do about that was a question he’d have to answer soon, in the meantime, he was through watching her live like a scared rabbit.

  Chapter 27

  Something prodded Gracie from her drowse.

  She stretched languidly and purred as Jake tightened his arm around her waist and tucked his naked body closer to hers. Contentment simmered. The day had been long and busy, but she couldn’t remember a sweeter Christmas than the one she’d shared with Jake and the girls. Not since Sarah’s death anyway.

  A peek from under her lashes showed the glowing numbers of the clock on the nightstand. Midnight. She yawned and considered going back to her room. It was what she should do but, for the life of her, she couldn’t bring herself to move out of his warm embrace.

  From that first afternoon in the cottage, they’d agreed to keep their intimate meetings a secret from the girls. The clandestine nature of their relationship hadn’t changed, but since Mary moved out of her bedroom in the farm house almost two months ago, to take up residence in her cottage, the temptation to sneak into Jake’s room after the girls were asleep became increasingly difficult to resist.

  Perhaps she could’ve held out if he hadn’t been single-mindedly
persistent in his sensual invitations. Then again, maybe not. She was a complete sucker for his love me, baby drawl. All he had to do was whisper his naughty invitation in her ear, and her eventual caving became a matter of when, not if.

  She arrived at his door, several nights later, hot with embarrassment. The heat quickly exploded into flames of excited pleasure when he snagged her wrist and dragged her, laughing, into his big, four-poster bed. She hadn’t looked back.

  Silent laughter shook her shoulders. If she’d proven bold and insatiable, she certainly hadn’t been alone.

  “Jake?” The muffled call, spoken in a childish voice, was followed by a soft knock on the bedroom door.

  Panic exploded in her chest. Oh, dear Lord! Why was Charlie knocking at the door?

  Gracie bolted from his arms, her terrified gaze on the closed door. What had she been thinking not flipping the lock when she slipped inside earlier? Oh, God. What was she thinking sneaking in here in the first place? What kind of guardian gleefully participated in wild monkey sex with two small girls sleeping down the hall? An irresponsible, slutty one, that’s what.

  Jake sat up beside her, slapping a hand over her mouth and cutting off her groan. She scowled at the laughter glittering in his eyes as he held a finger to his lips.

  Was he serious? After ten weeks, he should know the girls well enough to realize a closed door wouldn’t stop either of them, especially not Charlie. Shoving his hand away, she scrambled over his chest and tumbled off the far side of the bed. She landed on her shoulder with a breath-stealing thud.

  “Gracie?” Concern thickened his rumbling whisper.

  Gulping for breath, answering was impossible. She rolled to her back on the thick carpet and lifted her arm high enough to flap a hand in response.

  The bedding rustled and his worried face appeared over the side of the mattress. “You okay?”

  She would be as soon as she could breathe again. Nodding, she sat up then found the air to yelp when Charlie called his name again from the hallway.

 

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