Getting the money was completely and solely up to Lorelei. That knowledge was a heavy burden to bear. Still, she had to do it—fast. Before Logan went and played Russian roulette on the back of some thundering beast.
Lorelei was desperate to keep what little family she had left.
Dina’s offer had been an answer to her prayers. Almost Robin Hood-ish. Rob from the rich and spoiled and give to the needy. She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
It never was. Didn’t she watch the movies, read the books? There was always a hidden trapdoor. Besides, hadn’t her gut warned her?
Lorelei glanced at the clock tucked into Mark’s sleek iron-and-glass entertainment center. It was now noon. She’d missed her meeting with Dina. Shit.
Anger surged up inside her. Like hell she’d miss her chance. She wasn’t giving up that easily.
Pushing off the couch, she took a good look around Mark’s condo for the first time. It was decorated in the same Asian-inspired contemporary motif as the guest bedroom, with a wall of windows overlooking Denver. They cast tons of natural light across the hardwood floor and huge, biscuit-colored rug. Large bamboo planters with lush plants were scattered around the room, the deep green leaves vibrant against the taupe walls. And there was an absurdly large amount of colored rocks in decorative bowls and vases scattered around his place.
What was up with that? Maybe Mark was a Zen Buddhist or something.
The kitchen was more of the same sleek, contemporary look. Stainless steel, glossy black granite counters, glass-topped table. More colored bowls with rocks.
And it was all very, very tidy.
Next she made a beeline for Mark’s bedroom. It was time to snoop and see about finding a way out of there. Or see about finding things about the catcher, period.
Lorelei snorted in disbelief when she entered his room and saw the perfectly made bed. Not a single wrinkle to be found on the tan bedspread. Everything was in place. No socks on the floor, no shoes scattered around, no door ajar on the black dresser or matching black bedside tables. The guy was a neat freak. A health-food-fanatical, order-craving neat freak who believed in lucky charms. How odd.
And she wanted to jump square in the middle of that perfectly made bed and mess it up real good.
But first there was one more room to snoop through. Another spare room across from the one she was in. Then she’d give in to the juvenile urge to wreak havoc with the sheets of his bed. She’d loosen the corners, wrinkle the bottom sheet, and maybe shove something lumpy under the covers he wouldn’t notice until he climbed in.
It’d drive him nuts. Sucker.
Detouring through the kitchen on her way to the final room, Lorelei opened the fridge and groaned. Vegetables and fruit. Nothing but health food. Where was the good stuff? She had a real bad craving for nachos. Didn’t every fridge in America have a block of Velveeta, for goodness’ sake?
She leaned inside to take closer look and rummaged through the meat drawer. “Come on, come on. I know there’s got to be something in here, some contraband. Even Mr. Health has to have something. Aha!” She grabbed the block of cheddar and slammed the door closed.
A few minutes of cupboard searching and she uncovered some organic corn chips, made a face, and went about fixing lunch. She couldn’t help noticing how much more room Mark’s kitchen had than her cluttered one back at the ranch. Then again, he didn’t live with a rancher and a toddler, either.
Ten minutes later Lorelei had a heaping plate full of nachos topped with gourmet olives, green onion, fresh guacamole, and organic sour cream. Not exactly junk food, but it would do in a pinch. Inhaling the aroma, she popped a corn chip in her mouth and headed out to discover the treasures of the last bedroom.
She left all the dishes on the counter. And she hoped it bugged the hell out him.
Pushing the door open with her hip as she bit into another smothered corn chip, Lorelei stopped short and stared. It was a library. Not another super-clean guest room.
“Holy cow,” she muttered around a mouthful of nacho. Trophies, pictures, books, framed posters of Mark in action on the wall. Her eyes grew round as she took in the large room. “Score.”
Lorelei pushed the door closed with her behind and made her way around the huge black painted wood desk to the plush leather chair. It, too, was black. Everything in the room matched. In her entire life she’d never been that color-coordinated. Nor had she ever been rich enough to be so, but that was beside the point.
Sinking into the deep-cushioned chair, Lorelei sighed in ecstasy and closed her eyes. If only she could have a chair like this. One with great back support and a thickly padded seat that conformed to her body.
Instead, she had a cheapie from the thrift store that she sat in while she wrote her gardening articles upstairs in her room. It creaked like a rusted door no matter how much she oiled it, and the back was broken. If she leaned back too hard it fell off. She’d landed on her head more than once and had the permanent knot to prove it.
Someday she’d have the money to buy a decent office chair. That thought made her frown.
She hitched her chin and glared at the framed poster on the wall in front of her of Mark snagging a pitch with his glove while crouched behind home plate. He’d ruined everything.
Reignited anger had her reaching for one chip after another while she glared at all his awards and pictures. All his accomplishments.
She polished off the whole huge plate as she compared his pampered life and all its luxuries with the struggling one she and her brother lived. It wasn’t that she cared about being rich. Heck, no. That wasn’t it.
Lorelei grabbed a small golden trophy off the desk in front of her and turned it around in her hands. It just wasn’t fair that one person should have so much while another didn’t, that’s all.
“That’s life, Lorelei. It’s not fair. Deal with it.” She was, in the best way she knew how.
She stood and walked over to the bookcase. Might as well pass the time while he was out with a good book.
Perusing the shelves, she mulled over her choices. There were a lot of photo essay books, a stack of coffee table books, and tons of magazines spanning from Ranger Rick to Sports Illustrated. Graphic novels. Even a children’s book or two. But very few regular adult novels.
That was strange, but to each his own, she supposed. Everyone had their thing, and obviously he liked pictures.
“Find anything you like, sweetheart?”
Lorelei jumped, a scream lodged in her throat, and whirled around to find Mark standing with wet hair in the hallway. “Would you stop doing that? Stop sneaking up on me.”
He raised a brow and leaned his large body against the door frame. “I didn’t sneak, Lorelei. You were too busy snooping to hear the front door open and slam shut.”
He had a point. “Yeah, well, don’t do it again. And about the front door. I don’t appreciate you locking me in and taking my things.”
Mark shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t appreciate you taking my things.”
She huffed and strode across the floor until she was directly in front of him. She held out her hand. “I want my purse and my cell back.”
Mark crossed his arms over his chest. “I want my necklace back.”
“You don’t need it. I do. And I need my stuff, so give it back.” Lorelei rotated her outstretched hand and nudged him in his solid chest.
He sighed. “I’m going to make something to eat. Want anything?”
“I’ve already eaten. I want to go home, Mark.”
Pushing away from the wall, he turned and strode down the hall, Lorelei hot on his heels. The frustration of the past few hours, of being locked in, of missing her opportunity with Dina made her voice thin and sharp. “Did you hear me? I want to go home.”
He glanced over his shoulder before he disappeared into the kitchen. “Then give me what I want, Lorelei. Hand it to me now and you can leave. Make us both happy.”
How could he be so callous?
And what was she doing looking at his butt? He was her warden.
Just then Mark let out a bellow and came rushing out of the kitchen, a fierce frown plastered across his face. Sparks of anger danced in his silvery gaze and a tic worked in his unshaven jaw.
He’d found the dishes.
That’ll teach him, Lorelei thought with smug satisfaction.
His voice came low and tight. “There seems to be some dishes on my counter with crap drying on them. Would you happen to know anything about that, Lorelei?”
She grinned like the devil. Dried guacamole was a real bitch to clean. “Yep.”
“Plan on doing anything about that?” His voice was carefully neutral.
Oh, this was fun. Lorelei tilted her head to the side and batted her eyelashes. “Does the mess bother you, Mark?”
She held back a laugh as she watched him fight for control. The win was so close she could taste it. Any minute he’d explode. So she thought.
She thought wrong.
Shrugging his broad shoulders beneath his white T-shirt, Mark shook his head. “Nah. Just making sure it was you.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “That kinda shit’s why I’ve got a housekeeper.”
Her mouth dropped open. How could he recover like that? Go from almost boiling to cool cucumber in a blink? It was maddening.
The cocky grin on his face told Lorelei he knew what she’d been up to. No way was it going down like that. Nuh-uh. Straightening her shoulders, she strode past him and flashed a wild smile.
She wasn’t giving up that easily.
Lorelei headed straight for the fridge and threw the door wide open. She needed something messy.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a pair of very white socks covering large feet come into view. Briefly she let her gaze travel up the faded denim jeans covering muscular legs before she turned her attention back to the contents of the fridge.
“What are you doing in my refrigerator?”
“You said you were hungry. I’m going to make you something to eat. Eew! You have Brussels sprouts in here. You actually eat those things?”
He sounded like a surly teenager when he replied, “They’re good for you. You might want to give them a try sometime and lay off the manufactured sugars.”
Lorelei scoffed as she reached for a tub of hummus. “I don’t think so, buster. Besides, I eat plenty healthy.”
This time he snorted. “Since when? And stop wiggling your butt like that, it’s distracting.”
Emerging from the fridge with her hands full of ammunition, she grinned and closed the door with her hip. “Since always, that’s when. It’s only during a certain time of the month that my body craves junk food. A guy with as much female experience as you should know that.”
Mark leaned his behind against the counter and crossed his arms. His eyes danced with amusement. “Ah, gotcha.”
Lorelei opened a drawer and grabbed a butter knife. She dipped it in the hummus and collected a large amount on the blade. Swallowing a laugh, she turned to face him, barely twitched her wrist, and watched as red pepper hummus splattered across the front of his white T-shirt.
“I’M SO SORRY! Gosh, how clumsy of me. Let me get something to wipe that off with.”
Mark knew she’d done that on purpose. Her wide-eyed innocent act wasn’t fooling him. Not for a second. So she wanted to play dirty, did she?
The brat thought he couldn’t handle a little disorder, a little mess. She was about to find out how wrong she was.
He eyed her and drawled, “Now, honey, don’t you worry yourself over that mishap.” With a finger he wiped the blob off his shirt and flicked it on hers. “Oh darn. Looks like I’m slippery-fingered today, too.”
Her gasp of outrage made him laugh. Served her right for snooping around his office.
He saw her go for the hummus tub and snaked a hand out, snatching it an instant before she did. Mark couldn’t resist taunting, “Too slow, Hamburgler. You’re not stealing my fries.”
She made a face and let out a growl. She lunged for the tub. “Gimme that hummus, Mark.”
Amusement rolled through him. God, she was easy to tease. And tempting when she was riled. Color flooded her cheeks and her eyes turned vivid green.
He shook his head and raised his arm, holding the tub high above them. “Come and get it.”
“You don’t think I will?”
He laughed. “Can you reach it, short stuff?”
She huffed and blew away the hair hanging in her face. He wiggled the tub in challenge.
Lorelei jumped, missing the tub by a good six inches. “Catchers have good reaches, girl. You’d better try harder than that.”
She cussed, making him laugh. Then she jumped again. Again and again she tried until Mark was almost doubled over with laughter.
Finally, she stopped and gave him a good glare. “Fine. You win, you big jerk.”
He felt a stab of disappointment, but before he could respond she wheeled around and leaped, her legs wrapping firmly around his waist as both her hands grabbed at his arm. Shock and arousal shot through him as she wiggled up his body, using his arm like a fire pole.
The laughter slowly died in his throat when her legs clamped tight around him, pulling her heat snug against him. Her amazing breasts pressed flush against his chest. In an instant he was hard and aching for her.
Turning them, Mark pressed her against the counter. Oblivious to the hunger gnawing at him, she squeezed her legs and thrust up, taking the hummus out of his loose grip.
Her face lit with triumph, Lorelei sat on the counter and lowered her victorious gaze to him. Then she looked at him and her eyes went wide. “Oh my goodness,” she whispered.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Lust slammed into him and he took her mouth in a hot, carnal kiss. No tender coaxing, no gentle persuasion. He fed her a kiss full of a grown man’s raging need. No games. Just tongue, teeth, and raw sex.
She whimpered and it fueled him, ignited him. Made him burn.
He vaguely heard the sound of the tub of hummus as it hit the floor, splattering across the cupboards. Then her hands were on him, yanking at his shirt, pulling at his fly. Her lush mouth was moving wickedly against his, her tongue stroking, demanding.
She bit him and he swore, laughed. His head spun with a sort of delirium. God he wanted her.
Shoving his erection against the V of her thighs, Mark broke the kiss and yanked his shirt over his head. He sucked air like a drowning man as his chest heaved from exertion.
Suddenly he had to see them. In the bright light of day he had to touch them, taste them. Leaning in, he kissed Lorelei hard before yanking her sweater over her head. Just as quickly he undid her bra, not stopping until her breasts were bare, exposed to his view. Every creamy, beautiful inch.
They were perfect. Full and round with plump, tight, dusky nipples. His cock jumped hard in reaction, straining madly against his fly.
Her voice was a little husky. “I want your mouth on me, Mark. I want to feel your tongue across my nipples.”
“Jesus.” Something primitive and wicked reared its head at her words. It washed over him, into him, made him grip a handful of her hair and yank until she whimpered and her throat was bare.
Then his mouth was on her, feasting on her breasts. Never. Never before had he wanted a woman like this.
Closing his mouth over her puckered nipple, Mark sucked, using teeth and tongue until Lorelei let out a groan of pleasure and slid her hands into his hair, pulling him even closer. He grinned when he felt her tug his hair and heard her moan his name.
He was so engrossed in the sight, feel, taste of her that he was slow to realize she was trying to get his attention. With a vicious growl he straightened, licked his lips for one more taste of her. And felt immense satisfaction at the dazed, aroused look he saw in her gorgeous eyes.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. Desire still pumped a furious pace in his blood as Mark releas
ed her hair and slid a finger down her silky throat. He grinned when he found her pulse racing there.
Lorelei closed her eyes and purred, stretched into his caress like a cat. “Mmm, the phone, Mark. Someone’s calling.”
And that’s when he heard it, the sound of his cell phone. He was going to ignore it. Getting Lorelei naked was way more important. Then reality registered.
Instantly the fog lifted, and Mark swore. She’d done it again, damn it. Made him forget his priorities, his job.
He had a game today.
Mark took one last look at her amazing breasts and scowled. How the hell was he supposed to focus on his game after tasting those?
Chapter 9
LORELEI WAS AT her very first professional baseball game. She was seated four rows up and directly behind home plate with a great view of the field. In spite of herself she couldn’t help feeling excited as Coors Field filled with enthusiastic Rush fans.
Pregame music blared through the speakers—hard-hitting rock ’n’ roll. The smell of vendor hot dogs and cheap beer lingered on the air, mixing with the crisp scent of the freshly mowed ball field. The noise level grew as the crowd shuffled in and began waiting anxiously for the game to begin. Lorelei snuggled deeper into the gold and green Rush jersey Mark had given her to wear. Though it was short-sleeved it was so large on her that the sleeves came down past her elbow.
The Rush were currently on the field for their pregame warm-up. She’d spotted Mark the minute he’d strode onto the field. Of course he was the one with all the catcher’s padding and the big glove, but it was more than that. It was the way he moved. So graceful and confident.
A sharp thrill had shot through her when he separated from the team and stalked toward the plate in front of her. After walking around the plate three times and whacking his fist in his glove twice, he’d turned his head toward her and shot her a warning look through his helmet cage. It clearly said, You disappear, you pay.
Stealing Home: A Diamonds and Dugouts Novel Page 7