Playing the Game

by Stephanie Queen

  “Nothing. The odds are definitely against it. But then those are the kind of odds I like.” He grinned. Roxanne thought she knew then what it was like to be a hunted animal.

  “This is all a big game to you, isn’t it?” She knew the answer.

  “Isn’t it?”

  “Not even a time out?”

  “You can call the game any time you want. But I have a feeling you’re enjoying it as much as I am. You should be, though I have to admit it, we both know you’re winning—so far.” His grin faded slightly. Faint tension formed lines around his mouth.

  “You may be right. But the stakes keep getting higher and higher as time goes on and…” She looked away.

  “And what?”

  “And the last time I played this game, winning wasn’t so much fun. My late husband turned out to be a very poor sport.” Barry flinched, ever so slightly. Even as she remembered Don, she could not ignore the mounting excitement Barry caused within her. Especially since her reminder seemed to give her an advantage over Barry, giving her control of this supremely self-controlled man. What happened to her resolve not to play with men? What if he was the one man who might win? Her eyes widened at her thoughts and her mouth softened, almost trembling as she stared back into his eyes.

  “Don’t worry about me.” He left unspoken the words that hammered through her mind. Worry about yourself this time, Roxanne.

  They stood close. She leaned against the counter and he kept her pinned motionless with his weight against her. He didn’t hold her in his arms, but with his hands poised on the counter on either side of her. He moved slightly against her and she felt his hard full erection. It was difficult not to react, but she kept herself cool on the outside even as she felt her insides melting into the creamy irrationality of sexual desire.

  “Well?” He pressed closer, breathing the single word through his tight mouth. She saw his mouth twitch. She knew he was at his breaking point.

  “Well what?” Her words were too breathy, definitely not the casual tone they were meant to convey. His predatory instincts were too good to let that go unnoticed.

  He chuckled, pulling back from her.

  “I’ll meet you upstairs.” He turned away.

  The desertion left her chilled, but she lifted her chin. He glanced back at her with a nod as he went through the door.

  He wondered where she was as he crashed through her bedroom doors. He wasn’t surprised he was the first to get there. He only hoped he wouldn’t remain alone. Cursing aloud, and hating the doubt she always managed to make him feel, he had to consciously remind himself it was not his imagination that she was breathless with desire. He inwardly scolded himself into using some self-discipline. He stepped to the windows and watched the mesmerizing waves crash over rocks in the starlight and listened to the muffled rhythm.

  The click of the door on the other side of the room preceded her scent. She came to stand beside him. He looked down at her, warning himself to remain in control even as he felt the leap of his pulse.

  “I see the view has you captivated again. Watch out. It can become addictive,” Roxanne said, looking out the window.

  “Yes.” He hadn’t taken his eyes from her. She laughed in that seductive way she had, causing all kinds of jumps in his nerve endings. He told himself to stay calm.

  “And dangerous. Look at Don. He was so drawn by it that one night he went out there and never came back.” She walked over to the bed and sat, leaning back on her arms. She crossed one leg over the other and proceeded to kick off her heels. The telltale strain in her voice gave away her attempt at playing cool

  He stared at her, watching her no-doubt calculated movements for a full minute. “Is that supposed to be some kind of warning?”

  She went still. “No. Never mind. You have me unnerved is all.”

  “If I’m willing to take the risk then you shouldn’t care. You’re getting soft.” He came to sit next to her on the bed. She looked at him, her expression suddenly devoid of the teasing glint that he usually saw there. Her face was serious, but it wasn’t the expression he’d seen before. That had been born of passion. This was different and he had no idea how to react. He searched his mind for a lighthearted quip that would return her to the fun-loving woman he knew how to handle. But she spoke first.

  “Why do you always have to have the upper hand, Barry? Do you ever ask yourself that?”

  She asked the questions rhetorically, but he tried to think of the answers all the same. His instincts told him he’d better not. The questions, and her searching gaze, drained him of desire.

  “Damn it, Roxy. What are you trying to do?” He looked at her for one long moment, with a scowl, then he stood abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets because he didn’t know what else to do. “And you’re a fine one to talk about needing to have the upper hand.”

  “I know. And now I’ve gone and ruined the game.” She sighed and stood also. He turned to look at her again, ready to leave, or at least return to the party.

  “But that gives me the upper hand doesn’t it?” Her face lit up again with the familiar glint and the seductive giggle emerged from her triumphantly. He could do no more than stare at her, at a complete loss what to think anymore. She was playing with him good; faking left, then right, up and down like a yo-yo and he was letting her get right by him. He said the only thing that came to his mind in that moment of complete and utter frustration.

  “You make no fucking sense to me.”

  Her eyes were bright with challenge as he closed in on her. What would he do now? The expected thing? He knew she expected him to throw her on the bed and make wild love to her. She wouldn’t stop him. As he thought about it, his body responded, telling him it wasn’t a bad idea. But looking into her eyes and pasting on his game face—he stepped back. Both mentally and physically.

  “Okay. You win. Game’s over.” His jaw clenched as he said the words. The very act of conceding the victory lessened the pain, though he knew she would feel no better. If the best he could do was give her a hollow victory, then that’s what he would do. Nothing like cutting off your nose to spite your face, he derided himself as he swept past her. She looked very unsure, even vulnerable.

  He paused in the door and turned to look at her again to make sure. Maybe she wasn’t the woman he thought he was playing games with. But when he glanced back at her she stood casually putting her shoes back on. A cryptic, almost puzzled look on her face as if to say “where did I go wrong?” But surely not vulnerable?

  “Later.” She nodded to him with the lilt of promise in that tantalizing voice of hers.

  He quirked a smile at her then left the room, bolting down the stairs with the distinct sensation of having made a narrow escape. Escape from what he wondered? But then he decided not to wonder and joined the crowd at the bar.

  Roxanne stared at the doorway of her bedroom. Her hands shook as she put her heels back on. She glanced back at her empty bed. This game wasn’t so much fun anymore. Something changed. Was it she or Barry? She didn’t like the empty feeling she had right now one bit. It struck her with sudden intensity.

  She didn’t know what Barry Dennis thought of her any more. Or how she felt about him. Roxanne swirled into one of the overstuffed chairs by the fireplace and swiped the tear from her face. Then why was she bothering with him? Why was she taking such a chance playing games with him? This was ridiculous. “What am I doing?” she said out loud.

  “That’s what I’d like to know.” Bonnie entered the room and when she got closer, Roxanne tried to avoid the woman’s eyes.

  “Honey, what is it? What did that man do? What did he say?”

  “Nothing.” Roxanne looked up, not bothering to wipe the latest tears away. She smiled, then laughed because she knew it sounded silly. It was silly.

  “Roxy? I’ve never seen you this upset over a man.”

  “It’s not him.” She waved her hand, cutting Bonnie off before she could say anything more ridiculous. “It’s ev
erything—all this business about money and Don’s death, and Penelope’s threats.” Roxanne felt much better now and she looked at Bonnie, letting anger take hold. “You know that Penelope’s talked all our major donors out of giving us the seed money we need to launch the special campaign? But she won’t stop me.” Roxanne stood. She felt much better. She’d think about Barry later.

  “I’ll have to work extra hard, line up some new candidates—but I’ll get the money. Now that we have Barry as spokesperson, I’m sure it will get off the ground.”

  “Of course it will. You should know better than to worry about that. You have a house full of people downstairs that are right behind you.”

  “Yeah, we better get down there now before anyone decides to leave.” She smiled at Bonnie and gave her a hug as they left the room.

  The party was louder than when she had left it only thirty minutes earlier. Roxanne got to the middle of the room, but before she had a chance to approach anyone, Paul Paris took her elbow and leaned toward her ear, almost falling on top of her in the process.

  “Hey, Rox. Where ya been? I’ve been looking all over for you. Saving this dance for you. What do ya say?” He recovered his balance admirably and she laughed.

  “Are you sure you can dance, Paul? You can hardly stand. You’ve been hanging out at the bar haven’t you?”

  “Only all night. Want to take me outside for a walk? I do feel a little dizzy. Maybe we can look at the stars or something.” He looked her with an almost childlike expression.

  “Okay. Stargazing it is. But only for a few minutes. It’s very cold out,” she said as she led him through the dining room and kitchen to the back deck. She figured Paul could use a dose of brisk air. Tim and Laura were in the kitchen, and when Roxanne glanced over her shoulder to say she’d be back in a few minutes, she held her tongue. They were locked in an embrace and engaged in a steamy kiss that caused her to smile inside. She silently pulled the French doors closed behind her, and joined Paul at the railing of the deck. The cold air made her shiver but it didn’t seem to bother him as they both gazed out at the ocean.

  “You’ve got a million dollar view here, you know.” He turned to look at her. He sounded much more sober now than she originally thought him to be. The tingling of the hairs on her arms must have been from the icy air. But maybe not. She didn’t enjoy being out on her deck the way she used to—since Don’s death. And this man made her uncomfortable. Roxanne finally admitted that fact to herself. She wasn’t at all pleased by his attention to her and she didn’t know why. Normally she appreciated men who appreciated her. But not now. Not Paul Paris.

  “It’s colder out here than I thought. I’m going back inside.” Roxanne hugged herself. Not waiting for his response, she brushed past him and reached for the door.

  Paul stopped her. Grabbing onto her elbow, he swung her around and into his arms. He held her tight, pushing her back against the deck railing. “I can keep you warm. In fact, I’d love to keep you warm all night.” He kissed her with open hunger.

  Roxanne felt the cold rail against her back. A tingle of panic ran through her body, racing toward her mind. She imagined Don falling over this railing and crashing onto the rocks below. The scene came to life so vividly in her mind, even though she hadn’t been there, that fear welled up and the thrust of her shove against Paul was powerful enough to knock him back a step. She stifled a scream and stared at him, at first surprised not to see Don in front of her. What was wrong with her? Of course it wasn’t Don. Don was dead and she would never have to push him away again. She had rejected him one too many times. And in a flash came the stinging realization that she couldn’t be guiltier of his death had she actually been here that night and shoved him over the side.

  She bowed her head and buried her face in her hands, digging down deep for the presence not to let the tears escape.

  “Are you all right? I’m sorry…I thought…” Paul took a step toward her again.

  She evaded him and went to the door to step back inside. When she entered the kitchen she came face to face with Barry Dennis. There was ice in the blue of his eyes. Seeing him was like receiving a calming slap in her face. All hints of her hysteria were gone and her balance returned as if he stopped her world from shaking.

  Paul came in the door behind her and began to put an arm around her. Roxanne pushed him away more sharply than she should have. So much for her poise.

  “I’ll get you some coffee, Paul.” She stepped away from him and closer to Barry. She smiled at Barry in an attempt to erase that too-cool look from his face, which she realized was mostly being leveled at Paul Paris. She darted a glance back at Paul to see that his return stare was equally cold.

  “Don’t bother with coffee for me. I’m not ready to call it a night yet. I think I’ll have another drink.” Paul spoke to her, but looked at Barry. Then he turned and moved in her direction with a suggestive smile. “Roxy, why don’t you come and join me? We didn’t have our dance yet.”

  Roxanne felt Barry stiffen. She saw Barry’s jaw clench. He put an arm around her and attempted a relaxed pose before he spoke, staring unerringly into Paul’s eyes. She recognized his game face.

  “Maybe you didn’t realize. Roxanne is my date tonight.” Barry smiled through clenched teeth, only succeeding in making himself look like a growling animal.

  “That’s true. Barry and I haven’t even had a chance to dance yet,” Roxanne said. She was not enjoying this and hoped to ease the tension.

  “One dance won’t matter.” Paul challenged Barry.

  “Yes, it will.” He drew her closer. “You heard her. Find someone else. You seem to be making it a habit of going after what’s mine,” Barry said.

  Now the issue was out in the open. Barry gripped her shoulder more tightly.

  “That’s what you’d like to think. But your ex-wife was sorry she ever met you. And Lindy, well, she’s never been yours, has she?”

  Barry refused to speak. The man had to be drunk. He clenched one fist and held onto Roxanne harder. But Paul continued his taunting.

  “You’re not even claiming your own daughter now. If it wasn’t for me—and Roxanne—Lindy would be all alone.”

  “That’s enough, Paul,” Roxanne said, her voice hard.

  She was angry on Barry’s behalf and the knowledge exhilarated him. And unleashed his own anger. “Get the hell out of here. And don’t bother going to see Lindy again. I’ll get a restraining order.” Barry didn’t bother to think.

  “You would do that, wouldn’t you?” Paul sneered.

  “Yes. I would. I am a bastard.”

  He watched the man turn red and could see the instant he snapped. Pulling back a balled fist, Paul let it go and slammed him in the midsection before he could sidestep the punch. The force was enough to knock him back against the counter.

  “Paul! Are you crazy?” Roxanne was knocked aside and looked between them, stunned.

  Barry glared at the man. The arm he’d been holding Roxanne with now clamped his stomach and he was slightly bent over. Dr. Oki approached from the other side of the kitchen to appear next to Roxanne. But before anyone had a chance to do or say another thing, Barry recovered. He straightened himself up and launched a blow that landed squarely on Paul’s jaw and knocked him backward to the floor with a cry of pain.

  Roxanne’s hands flew to her face. She looked up at Barry and back at Paul. She could hardly believe the scene before her. Dr. Oki rushed to the man on the floor. Roxanne looked back up at Barry to see him flexing his fingers and then straightening his tie. She couldn’t blame him for taking the shot—but on the other hand, she was appalled. And speechless. She went to the refrigerator and with her hands shaking, took a bag of ice from the freezer and brought it to Dr. Oki. She knelt beside him.

  “I’m sure he’ll live,” Barry said.

  She looked up at him. His face was calm.

  “You’re right about that,” Dr. Oki stood as he spoke. “But he’s out cold and he won’t be doing
much chewing for the next couple of months. His jaw’s broken.”

  Roxanne stood and watched Barry smile with satisfaction. Then he met her stare and his smile was undiminished. Laura, who held the ice to Paul’s face, gave Barry an admonishing look.

  “Laura, can you help me find some volunteers to move him into the guest room? I’ll have Bonnie get him a taxi to the hospital. I don’t think he needs an ambulance, right Doc?” Roxanne didn’t know what to say to Barry. She was sure he was hurting from Paul’s accusations. And she could see that his hand was bruised and swelling.

  “No ambulance needed,” Dr. Oki said. The doctor smiled and looked up at Barry with a suppressed grin. “Your hand okay?”

  Barry’s arms were folded across his chest. “Fucking wonderful.” He didn’t remove the hand from its tucked position to allow examination. Roxanne knew it probably hurt like hell but he seemed to be in a particularly macho mood at the moment. Laura stood.

  “What did you hit him for anyway?” Laura asked Barry as she brushed past him.

  “He hit me first.”

  “Of course.” Laura threw up her hands and shook her head on her way out the door.

  Roxanne tried to stay cool, noting the indignant look on Barry’s face.

  “Don’t worry about Laura. She has a little trouble with this macho stuff.” She didn’t bother to keep the edge from her voice.

  “Is that what you think it is?”

  Before Roxanne could respond, Paul was sitting and calling for her. She turned to him.

  “I’m out of here.” Barry walked from the room. Heaving a sigh, Roxanne reassured Paul and saw him to the guest room. She left Paul, hoping to catch up with Barry. She rushed to the front hall.

  He stood there with his coat on, buttoning his last button. “Good night,” he said. He reached for the door handle.

  “Does this mean I’ll have to take filet of Barry Dennis off my menu for the evening?” Roxanne strived for her teasing tone, but she heard the anxious edge in her own voice.