by Desiree Holt
“Bail me out? I don’t need your bailing, thank you very much.”
His perfect mouth kicked up in a humorless smile. “Is that a fact? What about the other night at Tequila Sunrise? And tonight at Mike’s. You could say I saved your ass both times.”
Yes, but she wasn’t about to admit it.
“I want you to remove it right now. Or I’ll get somebody else to.” When he didn’t move, she said, “I mean it, Rafe. Now.”
He gave her a hard look then shrugged, walked around to the driver’s side of the car, bent down, and when he stood up had something in his hand. He held it up for her to see.
“Done. But this is a mistake.”
“The mistake,” she stressed the word, “was calling you in the first place. It won’t happen again.”
“You know, Tyler, it’s bad enough when you get twisted up with some of the trash in the places you hang out, but some idiot is after you. He’s probably just getting started. These things escalate, and the least little thing sets them off.”
“Like I said, it’s been a few days without calls. He’s probably gotten bored with me and moved on to someone else.” And didn’t she just hope so.
He studied her silently for a long moment that stretched out until she felt like squirming. Finally, he spoke again. “No more hang-up calls? No more tire-slashing incidents or anything like it?”
“Well,” she snarked, “since I’ve been driving around on my new tires I’d say they’re just fine. And no, no more calls.”
He took a step toward her. “Tyler, you need to take this thing seriously. I still want you to talk to your father about it. He needs to know what’s going on.”
“No. Did I say no? And…no.”
“Next time you get yourself into a situation like the last two,” he warned, “I might not be handy to pull you out of them. Kurt needs to arrange for protection for you.”
“Not happening, so forget it. Now if you don’t mind, I want to go inside so I can get ready for bed.”
He shook his head. “Whatever. You’re in for the night, I hope.” His voice was uninflected, even. Confident, as if he expected her to do what he said.
“Yes, Daddy. I’m going to tuck myself in bed.” She gave him a devilish grin. “Unless you want to do the honors.”
She saw a muscle twitch in his cheek, the only sign that she was getting to him.
“I think you can handle that.”
For a moment, he didn’t move. Then he stepped back so she could walk around her car to the inside door.
“I’m closing the garage door,” she told him, finger poised over the automatic door button. “If you don’t want to get locked inside here, you’d better move.”
He looked at her, his expression dead serious. “You might hate my guts, Tyler, and I might not approve of your lifestyle, but I want you to remember what I’m going to tell you. You have my phone number. Don’t hesitate to use it. When you’re in trouble and need someone you can call me. Any time. No matter what.”
Emotions clogged her throat. He was probably the only person she knew that she could really depend on, and she had no idea why he even made the offer. Like a wind blowing against her face, she felt the pressure of his mouth again, her fingers automatically touching her lips. That kiss was seared into her body and her mind, and for a moment, she wondered what he’d say if she stepped up to him and pulled him close for another one.
Before she could even take a step, he moved toward the driveway. “Don’t forget to reset your alarm and be careful answering the phone.” He turned and headed out to the driveway. “I’ll be seeing you,” he called over his shoulder as he walked away.
If only he’d at least sounded a little more enthusiastic about it.
Sighing, Tyler walked inside, made sure the alarm was reset, and headed into the kitchen. She wondered what things would have been like if she and Rafe had met under different conditions.
Needing something to settle herself down, she pulled a half-empty bottle of Riesling out of the fridge. She had just taken down a wineglass when her cell phone began jiggling on the counter and the staccato drumbeat pounded at her. Distracted, she reached for the phone and pressed Talk without even thinking or looking at the readout.
“Hello?”
No answer.
Tyler repeated, “Hello?”
Still nothing.
“Whoever you are, leave me alone.” She almost shouted the words, then steadied herself with a deep breath. “I mean it. Quit calling. Quit sending me flowers. Quit everything. Don’t bother me anymore. I have protection.”
She started to press End when she heard a laugh, eerie, as if it were coming from the bottom of a barrel. Tyler dropped the phone as if it burned her hand. She just stared at it, waiting to see if any further sounds came from it. But when it was silent for a couple of minutes, she picked it up off the floor, holding it as if it were contagious. Well, that’s what she got for being stupid enough to answer it. She should just get rid of the damn thing but to what end? He’d find out her new number eventually.
She carried the wine and glass into her bedroom and set them down while she undressed. Minutes later, she was dressed in flannel pants and a long-sleeved tee, huddled under her covers. The chill she felt didn’t come from her air-conditioning. It emanated from deep inside her bones. Her hand shook as she lifted the glass of wine to her lips, some of it sloshing on the comforter. She gulped it as if it were water.
Who in hell was doing this to her? And why? She knew she’d pissed off a lot of people, but she couldn’t imagine any of them as a nut job like this. It just was not their style. Maybe she should go away for a while. Get out of the area. Of course, if he was a person who could find her unlisted cell-phone numbers, he could find her any place she ran.
Damn.
Had she done this to herself, become the object of a stalker because of her years of outrageous behavior? Was that what she’d turned herself into? A bitter taste surged in her mouth and the agony of realization swept through her. Was this what she wanted for the rest of her life? She hadn’t gotten the attention from her father she wanted and she’d become the object of pity for someone like Rafe Ortiz. She’d tossed away her life for nothing.
She took another deep swallow of wine. Maybe she could drink enough to knock herself out.
Well, one thing was for sure. She might be feeling unsettled and, okay, maybe even scared, but she was not going to run to Kurt Gillette. The man had all but washed his hands of her. All she’d get from him was a lecture and she wasn’t about to listen to it.
Rafe had said she could call him, but had he really meant it? Something was brewing between them, and she didn’t know if it was good or bad. Or if she had the courage to find out.
Draining the rest of the wine, she huddled under the covers, pulling them up to her chin. She just hoped she didn’t dream about this scary stranger. And luckily, she didn’t. Instead, just as she fell asleep, the image of a handsome, very sexy former football player with hair like black silk and a wicked gleam in his eyes floated just beneath her consciousness.
Chapter 6
Tyler still felt unsettled when she woke up in the morning. Her sleep had been restless, her dreams filled with a combination of images of Rafe and of a faceless man chasing her. At seven-thirty, she finally dragged herself out of bed, brushed her teeth, and headed downstairs to the kitchen for a mug of coffee. The first sip of the hot liquid rushed through her system and blasted away at the cobwebs in her brain left by the wine she drank before she fell asleep. Good thing she hadn’t had any hard liquor, or she’d feel really bad.
Leaning against the counter, she clasped the mug with both hands and closed her eyes for a moment. Bad move. Immediately Rafe’s face swam in front of her. She popped her eyes open. God. If she could only convince him to have one hot night with her, she could get him out of her system. But that wasn’t Rafe’s style. From day one of his rookie year, he hadn’t be
en any kind of a playboy, a man who lusted after groupies. He’d never taken advantage of the veritable banquet of flesh available to the heroes of the gridiron. She seldom attended the games, only under duress, but she heard gossip at team events and certainly kept up with the social swim online.
Rafe Ortiz had always been known as serious, grounded. She knew he’d bought a house for his family and put his younger sister through college. That was as much as she knew. Solid, stable. A rule follower. Maybe that was another reason she was so hot to get him into bed. The more he resisted, the more she focused on it. But no matter how she tried to tempt him at team functions, or any other time she ran into him, he always smiled politely and excused himself.
Well, enough focusing on him. She had other concerns. She would never admit it to Rafe, not after his criticism of her, but she had to figure out what to do about her stalker. She had no idea what he’d do next. Maybe nothing, but maybe something worse. Again, she tried to come up with alternatives. She could invade Betsy’s or Lynn’s homes, but then she’d have to tell them the whole story and maybe put them in the line of fire. She realized with depressing clarity that except for her very tiny inner circle she really had no friends. Certainly none that she could go and visit, and she was fast becoming tired of her own company.
She thought about it while she showered and shampooed. While she lathered cream on her body and blow-dried her hair. She was still thinking about it when her brand-new phone, which she’d left on her nightstand while she showered, chimed an incoming text.
There weren’t too many people it could be. Maybe Betsy or Lynn was texting her. Was it Rafe checking up on her? But when she looked at the screen the readout said Blocked, just like the other calls and the text, and nausea rumbled up from her stomach. She supposed she could get yet another number, even another phone, but what was the use? Apparently, he tracked her new setup down without any problem.
How in hell did he keep doing it? What was his source? If she ever figured that out, maybe she could discover who this was. Maybe she could ask Rafe—
Sick curiosity prompted her now to pick up the phone and press the message icon.
“I cld have hlpd you last night. U shld not ignore me.”
She dropped the phone on the bed as if it were a bug that had bitten her. Ignore him? Who the hell was she ignoring? Plenty of people approached her when she was at different functions, figuring dating Kurt Gillette’s daughter would get them close to the seat of power. He was one of the city’s power brokers. Besides owning the Hawks and the stadium, he was involved in important projects and always on everyone’s A-list. Ha! If they only knew how he felt. His daughter was an annoyance. She was surprised he hadn’t asked her to change her name by now.
And last night? The only way whoever this was could have known about last night was if he was following her. The thought sent a chill skating over the surface of her skin.
Positive she was wasting her time—it said Blocked, dummy—nevertheless she typed a return message and hit Send. Undeliverable. Well, of course it was. She wasn’t exactly sure how all that worked, but she had to try it, just to satisfy herself. She sat down on the bed, the phone held loosely in her hand, and rubbed her forehead. Now what should she do?
First of all, get dressed, she told herself, realizing she was still wearing her robe. She grabbed a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt and dragged them on. Then she took a scrunchee out of the vanity drawer and pulled her hair that she’d styled so carefully into a careless ponytail. No fashion statement for her today.
Who are you? she asked the image in the mirror. Maybe it was time for her to find out. Time to quit pushing Kurt Gillette’s buttons in the hope he’d give her any kind of attention. Time to face facts and move forward, and not as some tarted-up joke.
She thought about leaving the cell in her bedroom, but what if Betsy or one of the others actually tried calling her? Shoving the phone in her pocket, she refilled her coffee mug in the kitchen and was just trying to figure out what to do next when the doorbell rang. Tyler frowned. She wasn’t expecting company and her close friends knew not to just drop in on her.
Damn! It was the freaking florist again. She yanked the door open.
“Take them back,” she snapped. “And don’t bring me any more. Ever.”
The face that peeked at her around the enormous arrangement was young. The driver could not have been more than eighteen.
“I-I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m just doing the deliveries.”
Tyler sighed. “I know. Does it say who it’s from this time?”
“No, ma’am. But there’s a card here.”
She held out her hand. “Give it.” She slipped it from the small white envelope. I won’t give up. I can shower you with flowers every day.
Nausea roiled up from her stomach. In the beginning, Nate’s clumsy attempts to effect a reconciliation had been both laughable and annoying. But this was beyond seductive, or whatever it was supposed to be. If it was from him, he needed to stop. And the phone calls, too, if he was also doing those.
Shivering, she closed the door and locked it, resetting the alarm. She was just about to take of coffee for herself when the doorbell rang again.
Fucking damn.
When she peeked out through the window beside the front door her stomach dropped, then bounced for good measure. It was bad enough that Rafe stood there, looking sinfully sexy in black slacks and a red Hawks polo shirt. She would have been licking her lips over him except for the bear of a man standing with him—her father.
Holy hell.
Shock immobilized her, and the little girl who still hid inside her was thrilled that her father had actually come to see her. He was here. Her father was right here. The man had never been to her town house in all the time she’d lived here. In fact, since she’d moved out of his McMansion and into her own place, he hadn’t given her so much as a housewarming gift. Now he showed up?
Well, hell.
Then she gave herself a mental kick. This was not going to be a pleasant visit. He had his combative face on, and she knew what that meant. Had Rafe told the man about the episode at Tequila Sunrise or the one at Mike’s? She’d have to kill him if he had, slowly and painfully.
She wanted to run and hide in the bedroom until they went away, but knowing the two of them—especially her father—that wouldn’t work. If, after all this time, he was here at her front door, he wasn’t about to leave quietly. Especially if Rafe was with him. Rafe, who had probably tattled on her thinking he was doing his civic duty or something.
She glanced at herself in the little mirror in the hall and suddenly wished for different clothes, different makeup, and hair artfully arranged. The disguise she always hid behind. Well, shit. What the hell, anyway? He didn’t give a damn about her. Neither of them did.
After punching in the code for the alarm, she opened the door and stood there, arms folded across her chest.
“Oh, look. It’s the guardian angel and daddy dearest. How sweet.” She figured sarcasm was her best defense.
“Good morning, Tyler.” This was Rafe. “We’d like to come in for a few minutes.” He bent down and lifted something to the left of the door. “You’d better put these in water. Someone left them for you.”
Tyler looked at the enormous arrangement of flowers and trembled all over. The damn delivery guy had apparently just left them. She wanted them gone.
“Just leave them out there,” she said. “I don’t want them in the house.”
“They’ll die out there without care.”
“Good. Then I can throw them away.”
Rafe looked at her intently then just set the flowers back outside.
Even as angry as she was with him, she couldn’t help noticing how gorgeous he was and how incredibly sexy. She wanted to run her hands through the black silk of his hair and stroke the chiseled line of his jaw. Rub herself up against him and inhale the richly enticing scent of sun-warmed leather
. Of course hell would freeze over first, she reminded herself. His choice.
She reached for every molecule of the go-to-hell cloak she wore and tugged it tightly around herself. She gave both men a look she hoped would fry them on the spot.
“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying.” She looked from one to the other. “From either of you. This is a wasted trip.”
Rafe stood in front of her father, his shockingly blue eyes now the navy color they turned when he was serious. Uh-oh. She knew she wasn’t going to like whatever this was about. Had he tattled to her father about her situation? Of course he had, Mr. I Do The Right Thing. Damn him, anyway.
“I think it’s important for us all to talk.” He glanced at the man next to him. “Your father has some things he’d like to say.”
“Finally?” She snorted. “I’ll just bet he does. No thanks.”
She started to back up and close the door, but Rafe held it open with the flat of his hand.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Tyler, but we’re coming in. So how about we go into the kitchen, get some coffee, and have a little chat.”
Tyler glared at him, torn between spitting in his face and standing on tiptoe to plant a kiss on that mouth that she still remembered so vividly. Finally, she blew out a breath and took a step back into the foyer.
“Okay. Come on in. This should be a lot of fun.”
She turned and walked into the kitchen, hoping her shaky legs would support her. Behind her, she heard the sound of the front door closing and sensed rather than heard the two men follow her.
“You have a very nice place here,” Kurt commented.
“You sound surprised. What did you expect, someplace that looked like a bordello?”
When he didn’t say anything, she glanced back at him and saw that he was visibly controlling himself. Was that a flash of hurt she saw wash across his face? No. Impossible. He was only concerned about his football players.
“I want to know what’s up with you.” She gave her father a piercing look. “All of a sudden you’re interested in my welfare? Is this some kind of a joke?”