To Win Her Love

by Mackenzie Crowne

  Amazing as it seemed, tonight she’d be walking out the front door of the farm without worrying her life was about to explode before her eyes. For the first time in months, she could finally relax and be herself without the specter of discovery hovering over her like a ghost from her past. She’d be spending a rare evening in the arms of the man she loved, building memories to last a lifetime, and if that weren’t enough, she was also looking at one hell of an added bonus. Though he’d never know it, tonight Jake would give her a gift she could never repay.

  The league was the official sponsor of tonight’s event, which meant her father would be in attendance. She sucked in a bracing breath to ward off the sudden lightheadedness. Quite a trade-off. The loss of one dream for the realization of another.

  Butterfly wings battered against the lining of her belly as she swept up her purse and turned to the girls. She tapped a fingertip to her puckered lips. “Am I missing anything?”

  “Lipstick!” Angel bounced on the bed.

  She laughed and her spiraling nerves settled some. A few moments later, they descended the stairs. All three of their smiles sported a slick application of dusky rose. Both the nerves and the lightheadedness came galloping back the moment she reached the landing and spotted Jake speaking with Mary in the foyer.

  Oh, Angel, you’re wrong, baby.

  Jake Malone in black tie wasn’t pretty, he was drop dead gorgeous. Tall and lithe, yet impossibly broad through the shoulders, he was the quintessential modern day warrior. Straight and proud, his muscled body exuded good health and power. Undeniably attractive, he was James Bond handsome and Chippendale sexy. And tonight, he was all hers.

  He turned his head and his emerald eyes widened. His focused gaze slid down her body like a heated caress. Goose bumps popped and her girl parts puckered helplessly. When his gaze stalled at the silky straps crisscrossing her ankles and lower calves, and he swallowed convulsively, her lips tipped up in a smug smile.

  Oh, yeah. A man’s healthy fetish did wonders for a woman’s ego.

  Her smile skittered away when he lifted his head at last and his gaze locked with hers. None of the usual teasing humor she’d become accustomed to seeing lingered in his eyes. The twins were right. Something was off. Subtle tension rode his shoulders, stiffening them beneath his black suit coat. Intent and sober, his concentrated study held her pinned in place.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head. “How could anything possibly be wrong when I’m looking at you in that dress?” As he’d done several times before, he instantly shed whatever nerves hung over him. Dimples winked on with his smile. He folded his fingers around hers and held out her arm to give her another once over. He whistled through his teeth. “Wow. You’re beautiful.”

  She shook off the subtle fingers of unease trailing down her spine and returned his smile. “You’re pretty wow yourself.”

  He winked and leaned close to stare into her eyes. “Something’s different.”

  She forced a smile. “Must be the contacts. Aren’t they fun?”

  He nodded then lowered his head to brush his cheek against hers. “Nice, but I hope you don’t mean to wear them all the time. Your violet eyes drive me crazy, baby.”

  He straightened and, as if noting the blush heating her cheeks, winked. She sucked in a ragged breath in lieu of fanning herself. He laughed and turned, crouching down in from of the twins.

  His gaze bounced between them. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting either of you lovely ladies.”

  Charlie immediately collapsed against his shoulder in a fit of giggles. Angel propped her hands on his hips and cocked her head. “We’re Angel and Charlie, silly.”

  He jerked back and made a production of studying them. “No way! Angel and Charlie are only six. They don’t wear lipstick.” He shook his head. “You’re both way too grown up to be my sisters.”

  Gracie’s heart squeezed. Did he realized this was the first time he’d formally recognized them as sisters? With no hyphens? No qualifications?

  Angel giggled hard enough she could barely speak. “It’s us. Auntie Gracie let us try her lipstick, but we have to wash it off before we go to bed.”

  “Which I’ll make sure they do.” Mary appeared at Gracie’s side. “Go on with you now. Have a good time.”

  Jake straightened to his feet, accepting Gracie’s long dress coat from Mary. He shot Gracie a smile as he helped her into her coat, but the humor didn’t translate to his eyes. Unease chilled her. No matter what he said, something was definitely wrong.

  Chapter 29

  One would think after spending the last three months in Jake’s presence, and experiencing the frequent visits of his famous teammate friends, Gracie would be immune to the spectacle of pro football’s most recognizable athletes mixing with famous faces from the entertainment industry, finance, politics, and the press. Not so. Busy searching the crowd milling about the atrium in the Metropolitan Museum’s Sackler wing for one particular famous face, she couldn’t stop herself from gawking.

  It was difficult to tell who schmoozed whom as the players worked the crowd. They laughed, chatted, posed for pictures, and in the process, secured jaw-dropping pledges from star-struck, deep-pocketed patrons. Having witnessed Jake’s charm first-hand, she shouldn’t have been surprised at how good he was at this sort of thing but, holy cow. She’d nearly spewed champagne over the matronly wife of a retired Wall Street mogul when the diamond-adorned woman puckered her time-wrinkled lips to blow dry the ink before handing Jake her check for a cool half million.

  After an hour of smiling at strangers as Jake worked his wiles, she left him to wring a bundle of cash from a senior congressman as famous for his watchdog interest in the spending of the people’s money as for his family name and fortune. Wandering around the edges of the crowd, she scanned the room for a familiar head of blond hair and a broad set of shoulders, but though her heart lodged in her throat several times, none of the big blond men she spied were the one for which she searched.

  Disappointment settled between her shoulder blades like an overstuffed backpack. What if her father didn’t plan to show after all?

  Spotting Dina Sutton scanning the room as well, she plucked a glass from a passing waiter and pushed through the crowd to pause at the foot of the Temple of Dendur. Considering the staggering amount of money changing hands, the grandeur of the ancient stone edifice was the perfect backdrop for tonight’s party. She stared up at the ornately carved columns framing the entrance to the temple porch. Sipping at her glass, she sensed someone at her side and turned her head. Expecting Jake, she smiled at Tuck.

  He dropped his arm around her shoulders. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “You have? I thought you’d be angry with me.”

  He cocked his head. “For turning me down tonight in favor of Malone?”

  She nodded.

  “Nah.” He sipped from his glass. “I forgive you for that. You’re living in the same house with him. I know how whiney he can be when he doesn’t get his way.”

  She laughed. “Whiney?”

  He bared his teeth in a leering smile. “What can I say? He’s a diva.”

  “As opposed to you.”

  He looked down his nose. “I don’t whine. I get even.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  He chuckled. “Hey, there’re a lot of jealous people out there willing to spread lies. You can’t believe everything you hear.”

  She turned away to study the hieroglyphics on the right column. “Then I shouldn’t believe Jake stole Daphne out from under your nose, or that you’ve stolen countless women from him over the years?”

  His smile morphed into a wide grin. “Oh, you can believe the part about the countless women I’ve stolen, but the Daphne thing is patently untrue. Jake only thinks he won that round. I’d already dumped her for a curvy redhead.”

  She shook her head and he dipped his head
to peer into her eyes.

  “Does the idea of me with countless women bother you?”

  She smirked. “Get real.”

  “Because, for the right woman, I’d be willing to change my wicked ways.”

  “Why, Tuck?” She batted her lashes. “Are you saying I’m the right woman?”

  He cocked his head and considered her face. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m willing to spend a few nights with you to find out.”

  He grunted when her elbow landed solidly in his side, and she couldn’t help but join him when he chuckled.

  He indicated the temple with his beer glass. “Cool, huh?”

  “Very cool.”

  “Ever seen this kind of stuff in person?”

  She glanced at him. “You mean, have I been to the Middle East?”

  He nodded.

  “No. Have you?”

  “Nope. The Marauders’ front office is filled with a bunch of tight asses. They insisted on including a safety clause in my contract. No base-jumping ski trips. No mountain climbing. Not even hang gliding, and no traveling anywhere I might say something that could get my head chopped off.”

  They shared a grin and he tightened his arm around her shoulders. “However, the world is full of wicked old shit, uh…stuff like this. Say the word and we can be in the air in less than an hour.”

  She grinned. “You do know how to sweep a girl off her feet, don’t you?”

  He ran his fingertips down her arm and dropped his voice to a distinctively seductive murmur. “Your wish is my command, baby.”

  Please. Did he think she was buying his crap? She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Tempting, but my get out of jail free card from the farm expires at midnight.”

  “Then we’d better get going. We can be at my place in ten minutes.”

  “Be careful, Tuck. She may look like a princess, but she’s more skilled at bringing a man to his knees than her dog.”

  She twisted her head around. Jake stood behind them.

  Tuck spoke over her head. “I’m willing to take my chances.”

  Jake bared his teeth in a taunting smile. “I’m not willing to let you.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She stepped clear of Tuck’s arm. “You sound like a couple of Neanderthals. Personally, I’m not interested in being the prize for either of you. No matter who,” she spun toward Jake, “wins this rooouuu…nd.”

  Like lightning bugs on crack, pinpoints of light scrambled haphazardly across her field of vision. She swallowed convulsively as she stared at the two big blond men and the tall redhead who came to a stop behind Jake.

  Doug Costa spoke with a distinctive sneer. “Sounds as if the two of you have finally set your sights on a woman smart enough to see through your games.”

  Jake’s head whipped around. When he turned back, his eyes slid shut briefly. Beneath his tuxedo jacket, his shoulders went stiff and a muscle quivered in his jaw. Tuck’s indignant snort registered behind her, but their antagonistic reactions to the league commissioner’s statement weren’t her problem.

  None of her daydreams throughout the years could’ve truly prepared her for this moment. This wasn’t how their first meeting was supposed to happen. Her father was supposed to pass by her at a distance. She’d look her fill, perhaps move close enough to hear him speak. Then he’d move on without them ever making eye contact, and her life would go on as it had before. Normal. Boring. Safe.

  Unfortunately, normal had disappeared from her vocabulary the moment Jake arrived at the farm and this situation was neither boring nor safe. She struggled to control her erratic breathing and calm her roiling stomach. Jake wasn’t stupid. He was bound to put two and two together if she threw up on his shoes—a distinct possibility considering the churning in her belly. She glanced away, frantically searching the room for a possible escape route. None presented itself.

  Jake closed his fingers around her elbow as Doug stuck out his hand. “Hell of a catch last week, Jake. We’ll be adding your name to the record books before the regular season is over.”

  After Jake’s blatant refusal to meet with him when that damning photo hit the stands last week, the compliment made her blink.

  Jake shook his hand. “Not if New England has anything to say about it. We’ve got our work cut out for us this week.”

  Tuck’s sharp snort made clear what he thought of that nonsense.

  Silent until now, Tom Walden laughed. “Pride goeth before the fall, Tuck.”

  Tuck bared his teeth in a wicked smile. “Skill. Pure, superior skill.”

  As stealthy as she could manage, Gracie leaned her head to the side and spotted an exit sign on the far wall. Would this crowd of oversized warriors buy her claim of not feeling well? It was the truth after all. She never got the chance.

  “Where are your manners, gentlemen?” The redhead smiled and extended her hand. “I swear. Men can be completely rude. I’m Sharon Walden. You must be Gracie Gable.”

  All eyes turned Gracie’s way, and she couldn’t help her flinch. She placed her hand in Sharon’s briefly and murmured something. Her lips were numb and bees buzzed in her ears. She had no idea if what she said made a lick of sense. She suspected not when she turned her head and her gaze locked with the watchful, denim blue eyes her mother’s diary had described in minute detail.

  Sharp creases bracketed her father’s mouth in a strained smile far different than the carefree grin she’d come to recognize from the covers of all those magazines and newspapers she’d pored over throughout the years.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, Miss Gable.”

  And I’ve devoured everything I could find about you.

  She sucked air through her teeth as quietly as she could manage. Ripples of joy battled with crippling fear. The competing sentiments rioted through her system and left her weak. She had to lock her knees to keep them from giving way beneath her as she placed her hand in Tom Walden’s. “Likewise.”

  Beside her father, the commissioner dipped his chin and offered her a smile. “I knew an Angela Gable once. You remember her, Tom. She was Simon White’s secretary. As I recall, the two of you were an item for a time. Ah, that is—” He offered Sharon a sheepish smile.

  Sharon waved him off with a laugh, but Gracie’s eyes sliced back to Tom.

  He stared at her mouth, or more precisely the mole at the corner. He looked up and his intent gaze held her spellbound. “I remember. Any relation?”

  This couldn’t be happening. She swallowed. Utterly aware of Jake’s fingers flinching convulsively on her elbow, she couldn’t look away from the question in her father’s eyes.

  Was it possible for a pounding heart to break through the chest wall? Oh, God. “She was my mother.”

  Tom’s face paled. A painful lump formed in her throat and clawing talons clenched her manically beating heart. Her gaze dropped to the hand Sharon silently slid onto his arm.

  “Well, I’ll be.” Oblivious to the melodrama taking place around him, Doug chuckled. “She was a lovely young thing. How is she?”

  Jake’s fingertips dug into her elbow painfully. The lump in her throat expanded, threatening to cut off her supply of air. “She passed away.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “When?” Sadness competed with the dawning shock in Tom’s eyes.

  “A long time ago,” Jake answered sharply before she could. His gaze locked onto Tom’s. “You dated Gracie’s mother?”

  Tom squeezed Sharon’s hand, but his gaze never left Gracie’s face. “She worked for Simon White, my first agent. A lifetime ago.”

  Biting her bottom lip, Gracie chanced a sidelong glance toward Jake and flinched. Horrified fury crackled like emerald fire in his eyes. Suddenly his gaze jerked to something or someone over her right shoulder, and he cursed under his breath. She followed his gaze and mumbled a curse of her own. Dina Sutton had set a direct course and was headed straight for them.

  Jake glanced around and tug
ged her close to his side. He directed his comment to no one in particular. “If you’ll excuse us, Gracie and I need to talk.”

  “Oh, I don’t think—”

  He overruled her. “Now.”

  Clearly not recognizing the gravity of the situation, Tuck stepped in front of them. “Sounds like the lady isn’t interested, buddy.”

  “Shut up, Tuck.”

  At Jake’s growled demand, Tuck held out both hands spread wide. Disapproval beetled Doug’s brow, and Tom opened his mouth as if to object. Jake didn’t give him the chance. He dragged her toward the exit.

  Chapter 30

  Jake stalked down the hallway, ignoring curious glances in his search for a private corner in the busy museum. Other than her grumbling commentary on what she was going to do to him once he finally let go of her arm, Gracie didn’t put up much of fight at being dragged about like a naughty child. Perhaps she’d spotted Dina, perhaps not. Either way, her cooperation was a good thing. Tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her through The Met might contribute to the tale of their romance, but the way his luck was running, he’d end up getting hauled to jail on abuse charges instead.

  The sign above a door twenty feet away caught his attention. He grunted and changed direction. Shoving open the door, he tugged Gracie inside. Startled by his sudden appearance in the feminine enclave, a pair of blondes stared at him wide-eyed from their place in front of the vanity mirrors.

  “If you don’t mind, ladies, we need a bit of privacy.”

  “I mind.” Gracie tugged at her arm.

  He held tight.

  The taller of the two women laughed. “You do realize this is the ladies’ room?”

  Ignoring them for the moment, he dipped his knees and bent at the waist to scan the floor beneath the stalls. All were empty. He turned to Gracie, dropping his head until they were nose to nose. “Stay put if you know what’s good for you.” Releasing her arm, he stalked to the blondes. He offered them a smile, took each by the arm, and escorted them to the door. “I do indeed, and since the two of you are the only ones here, we’ll have plenty of privacy once you leave. Thanks for understanding.”