Sporting Chance: A Raw Romance

by Penny Henry

  But it was surely the way that Temple wanted things. "Who the heck do you think you are? What gives you the right to trample over people's lives like a rodeo cowboy stepping on popcorn?" Her anger was all that mattered. Perhaps she might regret it later, but just now she needed it out of her system. "Get the hell off my property," hissed Temple. "I take it that it is still my property?"

  Travis bridled at the unrelenting baiting. But he hadn't built Campbell Properties into the diverse conglomerate that it was today without learning when to back off. "You have twenty-eight days," he barked and spun on his heel. Then he stopped himself. He turned to regard Temple with an ironic smile. "The posters don't do you justice," he said.

  "Get out," said Temple with as much contempt as she could muster. "I'll fight you all the way on this, Travis Campbell." But it was too late. Travis had already pushed through the office door and was striding from the building. The door rebounded on its hinges.

  Temple stood alone in the office. She was trembling. The trauma of her first meeting with Travis Campbell had left her drained. She couldn't be sure whether her confusion had been brought on by her fit of temper, the frustration of seeming powerless to change Travis' mind, or by disappointment after her first striking impression of the man. His leaving had left an unwelcome vacuum inside her that she couldn't comprehend. She could only be sure that her life was in tatters. Her world was crumbling and there was nothing she could do to prevent it happening.

  The door to the office rocked back on its hinges once more. Grace came bursting into the office. "Temple, honey, what's wrong? What was all the shouting about?"

  That was about all the golden goddess of health and beauty could take. Her eyes filled with the tears that she had hidden from Travis. She fell into Grace's arms and sobbed. "Oh, Gracie, what am I going to do? Ben has sold the complex. Everything has gone."

  Grace stiffened. "Ben has sold the complex?" she repeated like an automaton. "Never! Ben would have cut off his right arm before he sold your daddy's dream. There's been a mistake, that's all it is. Everything is gonna be okay, honey. You'll see." Grace cradled Temple to her shoulder and rocked back and forth.

  Temple rested her burning cheek on Grace's shoulder. She didn't know what had hurt her the most. Had it been Travis' confident dismissal of her protests, or her own disloyal thoughts towards Ben? Or was it that for one brief heart stopping moment, she had gazed into the eyes of a man whom she knew could have changed her life. That hadn't altered one little bit. Change her life was what Travis intended to do. It just wasn’t the way she might have wanted. Temple pressed her face to the thick white material of Grace’s keikogi. She hadn't finished crying.

  Chapter Three

  By the next day Temple's tears had dried into icy determination. The reflection in the mirror told no tales of her restless night. She was dressed for business. A light grey business suit clung to her lissome figure. A crisp white blouse showed beneath the elegant lines of her jacket. A hint of gold gleamed from the thin necklace round her slender throat. Her blonde hair carried a silken luster. Her makeup was light. A rub of pink-blossom lipstick and Temple was dressed for battle. She had the reputation of being willful and spoiled. But Temple knew the stubborn streak she had inherited from her father would stand her in good stead. She had fast caught up with her growing-up in the last couple of weeks. There were times when Temple was prepared to listen. And first she listened to Molly and Angus Kirk at breakfast.

  Molly clucked round the kitchen like a mother hen, chatting mostly to herself or to anyone that came within earshot. "You look lovely today, my dear. What a beautiful day it’s going to be again. Angus, doesn't Temple look lovely? You must be going somewhere special. Now, what will you have this morning? Let's see what we’ve got… grits, eggs, ham, pancakes…"

  Angus sat stony faced at one side of the large circular table, grumbling into a wild beard that had once been flame-red but was now a dull orange flecked with grey. The cause of his concern would be the reports in the three-day-old British newspapers that he avidly read from cover to cover. His memories were obscured by time. Nothing was the same anymore. Every day the same scene was repeated. And every day Temple took juice, wholemeal toast and a small cup of black coffee.

  "You'll be wasting away, lassie," mumbled Angus without lifting his eyes from the sports section of the Daily Record. He cleared his throat to speak in a broad Scottish brogue. "It’s a guid plate of porridge you'll be needing, luvvie - wi’ a sprinkle o’ salt mind, no' any sugar. It’ll set ya up fer the day guid and proper."

  "Yuk!" Temple screwed up her face in disgust. "No thanks. I'd sink through the floor," she said as she quickly disposed of breakfast.

  "Aye, yu'd be a bonnie lassie in nay time at all," said Angus, painstakingly following his line of reading with a bony finger.

  "A bouncy lassie is more like it!" said Temple, springing up to carry her empty dishes to the dishwasher.

  Angus shook his head despairingly and pushed his paper to one side as Molly placed a man-sized breakfast in front of him. The tiny grey-haired woman rubbed her hands on her apron and turned to Temple. "Are you sure you’re feeling up to going out today, dearie," asked Molly. "I know yesterday wasn't a good day for you."

  Temple smiled. She knew Molly would have heard the talk from the Hockley's housekeeper. Samantha Hockley wouldn't have been able to resist the temptation. She was cute and adorable. But Samantha was also an addictive gossip who could talk for the USA if it ever became an Olympic event. "You tell Mrs Hockley's housekeeper that I'm just fine," Temple assured Molly, receiving a delicate blush by way of return.

  "We're all worried for ya, lassie," put in Angus, actually lifting his head from peering at the newspapers that lay on the table.

  "Well, you can all stop worrying. I'm going to be okay," said Temple. "Now, where are my car keys?"

  "Would you like me to drive you, lassie?" offered Angus.

  "Will you stop it!" insisted Temple a shade too firmly. She caught herself. "I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I know you both worry for me. But I have to stand on my own two feet. You understand that, don't you?"

  "Of course, lassie, but you know we're here if ya need us," said Angus. The concern in his voice was beginning to break through. "If anythin’ should happen to ya now lassie…"

  "Oh, away with you, Angus Kirk." Molly dismissed her husband's misgivings. "Nothing is going to happen to Temple." She turned her attention to their bright-eyed charge. "Now, off you go, young lady, and mind you don't forget to eat."

  Temple retrieved her car keys, kissed Molly on the cheek and blew a kiss at Angus who had sullenly returned to his newspaper. "I'll see you both later." She pushed through the screen door and skirted the house to follow the path to her red convertible. In minutes Temple was at the end of the sloping drive with the top down and the morning sun in her hair. The princess of health and leisure drove the I-4 to Orlando seemingly without a care in the world.

  By the time she reached the Hart Leisure complex Temple's face wore a mask of grim resolve. She considered her schedule for the day. An appointment with Bob Laidlow was set up for later. He had been their Company and family lawyer for many years and would help all he could. The accountancy firm they used was next on the list. But first she had a meeting with Jill Harrison. Temple eased the quiet motor into the already busy parking lot and coasted into her reserved space. She stepped lightly from the car, conscious of people staring in her direction and talking excitedly as they pointed her out to each other. A few tentative shouts of greeting wafted to her ears. Temple raised one arm in a friendly salute, remembering to smile broadly as she made it inside the safety of the air-conditioned complex without being pressed for a single autograph. Her face had made her famous. She wondered how long she would be remembered if the plans of Travis Campbell were allowed to succeed. The very thought of his name disturbed a mess of butterflies in her stomach. A fleeting recollection of the way he had paralyzed her with the warmth of his brown-
eyed gaze sent her head spinning. And that oh, so sexy smile…

  "Hi, Temple. You okay?"

  "Oh, hi, Sean. I wasn't thinking for a minute.”

  She stopped and focused on the small, wiry man in front of her. She had been thinking about Travis but for all the wrong reasons. She hated the man she told herself firmly. The man who spoke to her now had the haunted, darting look of someone always expecting a tap on the shoulder or a knock on the door late at night. He had the frightened look of a man about to be found out.

  She doubted that Travis had ever feared anyone.

  "Sorry to hear about Ben. Sorry I couldn't make the funeral," the thin man apologized. "I'm really gonna miss him."

  "We're all going to miss him, Sean." Temple’s words appeared to comfort the sad-looking figure. He raised a smile as she spoke. "I'm sure you would have approved of the service. It wasn't at all miserable. We all wore bright clothes."

  "Ben would have liked that," said Sean. "He wouldn’t have wanted to see you wearing black. You know I would have been there if I could, don't you, Temple?"

  "I know, Sean," she reassured the apologetic man. Temple felt his sadness. Sean Richards was a shadowy member of the Tang Soo Do School whom nobody knew much about. Except maybe, Detective Lieutenant Tim Crane who probably knew more than he said. Sean could never quite meet Tim's eyes whenever she had seen them speak. Temple had occasionally stumbled across the pair locked in whispered conversation. It was none of her business. She chose to ignore whatever dubious relationship existed between them. Temple fostered the thinking that the study of martial arts was one of the great levelers of society. It was a sentiment for which Sean was more appreciative than Temple knew.

  "I'd better be going," said Sean, studying his watch. "Grace will murder me if I'm late."

  "Okay, Sean," said Temple with an understanding look. "I'll see you later - if you survive!"

  Sean scurried away and Temple resumed her path to Jill's office. She acknowledged the tanned and glowing staff and returned the 'hi and hellos' without getting caught up in conversation. She didn't pause to knock but pushed straight through the door. Straight into the bear trap of Travis' eyes.

  "Good morning, Ms Hart." He was wearing the same style of dress as on the previous day. Today the shirt was denim, faded blue jeans and this time, worn-leather cowboy boots! Temple's stomach flipped. His easy smile was as devastating as she remembered. His brown eyes twinkled as if withholding an amusing secret. She felt the panic rising in her chest. This wasn't supposed to happen. Her heart was thudding against her breastbone so loudly that she raised one hand to stifle the loud pneumatic blows.

  Travis cocked an eyebrow. "I seem to have startled you, my apologies."

  "Not at all," said Temple hastily, appalled that Travis could hear the pounding of her heart. "I was expecting to see Jill, that's all."

  "Again, I can only apologies. I had to pick up some riding tackle this morning. I thought I'd take the chance to check out a few contract details with Jill. Apparently she's occupied with the accounts department at the present.”

  Travis' mention of riding gear also explained the cowboy boots. While Temple's world was falling apart he was taking time out for his horses. Temple's heart had slowed to a staccato of cannon fire. She smiled sweetly. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint you. But Jill will no longer be handling the contractual side of things." Her violet eyes glittered. "In future, Mister Campbell, you will be dealing with me."

  There was a challenge implied in her word and Travis rose to the task. "Look, Ms Hart... Temple, I didn't come here to fight with you.”

  "Ms Hart will do fine," interjected Temple.

  "Okay, Ms Hart. I called by in an effort to make this as painless as possible for you," Travis began, “to minimizeyour losses”

  That was as far as he got. Temple fired up in an instant. "Where do you get the nerve to stand there and talk such rubbish? Hart Leisure is a sound business with our figures up month on month. You saw the parking lot. There's just no way we would have considered selling out. Not to you or anyone else for that matter."

  Travis rolled his eyes. "I hear what you're saying. I'm sure it's great for the ego to know that it's your face that's brought the dollars rolling in. But the truth of the matter is the deal is done. Roped, hog-tied and branded. And that’s with or without your knowledge."

  Temple didn't know what to be offended at first. The fact that Travis had suggested Ben had negotiated a deal behind her back? Or was it that Travis regarded her as no more than a pretty face on a giant billboard. She exploded. "Just who the hell do you think you are speaking to? Hart Leisure is the most successful sports complex of its kind in the state. You just can't walk in and close us down."

  "I'm sorry. That's not my concern," said Travis tiredly. "I am a businessman. My legal department was presented with the contract legally signed and witnessed. How many times do we need to go over this, Ms Hart?"

  "About as many times as it takes," snapped Temple.

  "Face it, Ms Hart," went on Travis flatly, "Ben Gilzean, for whatever reason, chose to sell back the lease. It's been on the cards for some time. Elliot Buchanan had been in talks with your partner for the best part of a year. Why else would we have been in negotiation with Pegasus Hotels? Ben did have the authority, did he not?"

  Temple nodded dumbly. All she had was the unshakeable faith that Ben would never have sold her down the river. She countered with the only thing she had. "And I’m expected to believe that Ben quietly signed over the lease and conveniently passed away on that very same day?

  "Unfair," rebuked Travis. He clamped his lips in thought before he spoke again. "You do understand what you are suggesting, don't you, Ms Hart? And just how serious and damaging that kind of accusation could be?"

  Temple remained impassive, regarding Travis from under lidded eyed.

  Travis continued his warning. "And you do realize how severe the consequences could be?"

  Temple was not to be deterred. "Doesn't it seem just the teeniest bit odd to you?" she began, “That you are asking me to believe Ben died immediately after he signed a contract with Campbell Properties... a contract that I knew nothing about? That he signed away my life?"

  "Don't you think that you're being a little over dramatic?" said Travis gently.

  "Believe me," said Temple, staring straight into his eyes. "You ain’t seen nuthin' yet!"

  Travis believed her. He looked hard at the lithe, beautiful woman who stared at him with an unblinking violet gaze. He was entranced by her stunning good looks and impressed by her steely resolve in defending a partner who had followed his own agenda. He hadn't allowed a woman to affect him like this for as long as he cared to remember. He had remained single and unattached since his bitter divorce. All of his affection and attention had been focused on Melanie. They had been happy enough on their own - before Melanie had gotten into bad company. She had changed overnight and Travis had assumed it was a phase she was going through. He made more time for her but it had been too late. She was mixing with selfish offspring of Florida's oldest families. Spoilt brats that considered the world owed them a living. But still they had been happy enough. They would come through it. And they had stayed reasonably happy until the day of the drunken automobile wreck

  Travis tore his attention back to the moment, and back to the innocent eyes that reached into his soul. The pony-tailed daughter of Greg Hart had grown into the most desirable female he had ever set eyes upon. He couldn’t control the stirring in his loins. He wanted this woman badly. And they were fighting tooth and nail.

  Travis chose his next words carefully. "I have to admit that it is the most unlikely coincidence I could imagine. In fact, when I left yesterday I kinda did some checking. It seems that Ben did die from natural causes. There was a build up natural cholesterol leading to arterial blockage. I’m sure you know all that. Did Ben ever have himself checked out?"

  Temple knew full well that Ben hadn't seen a doctor in years. She was loath t
o admit it. “Ben was as fit and healthy as a man half his age.” She said proudly. “He never felt the need to be tested for something he couldn't see.” Then she wavered. “Though... I did try to get him to take a health check. I made appointments for him. But… but he never kept them." Temple’s words faltered, her eyes were shining with the memory. "It might have saved his life."

  Travis stepped forward to within a pace of where she stood. For one wild moment Temple thought he might take her in his arms and soothe away her anguish. Then he seemed to recover himself, to gain control of his involuntary action. He appeared shocked that he had reacted that way.

  "He was a damn fool," muttered Travis. "Perhaps if he had lived we wouldn't be at each other's throats now. Perhaps if we had met under different circumstances…"

  Temple knew then that she wasn't the only one experiencing the nerve-tingling attraction she had felt since first meeting Travis. This wasn't the time. She was fighting for survival. She couldn't allow herself to fall for him. "I can't imagine that meeting you under any circumstances would be much different," she lied. "You don't care about people. Your only interest in life is money. If you truly cared about anything, you wouldn't be allowing this to happen. Show me you care about something other than money. Stop the deal. Tear up the contract," Temple challenged him.

  Travis was wounded by Temple's reaction. He had been about to bare a little of his soul. It seemed he would have made a fool of himself. He struck back blindly. "You are impossible! We have a deal." He counted off the points on his fingers. "Hart Leisure has disposed of its lease. Campbell Properties has a contract to build a luxury hotel on the site. All contracts are legally binding. To renege on the agreement with Pegasus Hotels would involve Campbell Properties in punitive damages." Travis loomed in front of Temple like a school principal spelling out the way it was going to be. "Now do you understand?"

  "So I'm stupid, too!" retorted Temple, bristling like a porcupine backed into a corner. She couldn't fault Travis' logic but she was sticking to her guns. "Do you believe that Ben would have signed away the complex without consulting me? You knew Ben. You knew my father. Hart Leisure was their life. Can you look me in the face and honestly tell me you believe in this deal? That Ben would sign away my life as well as his own?"