Mark scowled and yanked his sweat-soaked shirt over his head. “How did I look at Lorelei?”
“Like I used to look at my wife.” Drake smiled and shook his head. “Before she left me for my tax accountant.”
MARK HAD BEEN awfully withdrawn on the car ride to his condo. In fact, he’d been downright sulky.
Lorelei knew he was upset about tonight, but she had a feeling it was more than that.
She’d spent the game observing him and visiting with Leslie. Turned out his sister went to almost all his games. What she’d observed was that Mark had played like a man haunted by something. And that something wasn’t related to baseball. Lorelei was pretty sure she knew what that was.
It was her.
He shoved the door to his condo open and she followed him through. Flicking on lights as he went, Mark shrugged out of his charcoal dress jacket and strode down the hall to his room. Left alone in the foyer, Lorelei sighed. He’d been ignoring her since she’d turned him down last night.
He couldn’t have made his feelings any more plain.
She’d been right. To him she was nothing more than a faceless name. It shouldn’t bother her. Not when she’d been considering using him the way she had. Mark wasn’t anything more to her than a means to an end. He couldn’t be.
It shouldn’t bother her, but it did.
Why it did, she didn’t really want to examine. Lorelei knew what she was, and what she wasn’t. She wasn’t the type of woman to keep the interest of a man like Mark for very long. It’d last just long enough for one or two nights of steamy sex.
It was her track record. The truth was that most men didn’t stay interested beyond the bedroom door. Mostly they hung around long enough to get what they wanted and then they bailed. The last one had been the worst. He hadn’t even waited until the sheets had cooled before he’d run out and never called again.
Lorelei sighed again and started down the hall to the guest room. She slipped off her brown leather jacket and hung it on a spare hanger in the closet. Spying her duffel bag on the floor in the corner, she went to it and crouched down.
Mark had already searched the bag for his cross, she knew that. It hadn’t been much of a secret, really. And she’d expected it. He could search all he wanted, but he wouldn’t find a thing. It was still at the concierge desk at the hotel.
Lorelei straightened and grabbed another bag off the floor. In it were some clean clothes she’d grabbed from her house. When Logan had asked about it, she’d just told him that she was going with Mark on an away game trip. He’d given her the eye, but kept his mouth shut. Not that he needed to say anything, anyway. She already knew how he felt. He’d made that clear back in their kitchen.
Now she pulled out a thin white cotton camisole and a pair of blue jersey lounge pants. They were the only clean pajamas she had. She needed to wash some clothes, but had no idea if Mark had a washing machine or if he sent his laundry out.
Kicking off her shoes, she quickly undressed and slipped the clothes on. Then she pulled the clip holding her hair in a messy bun out and let it fall loose down her back.
Out in the living room she went straight to Mark’s entertainment center and perused his CD selection. His tastes ran the gamut from classical to hard rock and she skimmed the spines until coming across one that suited her mood. Slipping it from the rack, she put it in the player. When slow, moody blues came through the surround sound speakers, she turned and sank into the couch and listened. Blues full of sax and guitar always relaxed her.
Mark appeared a few minutes later, dressed only in a pair of flannel lounge pants. Lorelei glanced over the back of the couch and fought to keep her jaw from dropping. Her mouth watered at the sight of his tanned, sculpted chest and washboard abs. Those deeply cut muscles that V’d down into his low-riding flannels were delicious. So was the dark blond trail of hair that disappeared beneath the plaid fabric.
Why was she hesitating to act on her desire to have sex with him? At the sight of his gorgeous body she was about to experience a total meltdown. And if he never spoke to her again after getting her in the sack? Well, she supposed she could deal with that, if it meant she got to experience a night with him.
He took another step and his abs flexed hard in response to the movement. Oh yeah, she could deal.
He shot her a dark look as he headed into the kitchen. Lorelei guessed he was still ignoring her. Glass clinked as he rummaged in his cupboards. A few minutes later he reemerged with a glass half full of amber liquid and started toward his room.
She sat up straighter and swung an arm over the back. “Why don’t you come sit over here, Mark?”
He stopped. “Why would I want to do that, Lorelei?”
Because he looked angry and miserable at the same time, that’s why. “You look like you could use a sounding board. I’m a great listener if you want to talk about tonight’s game.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” But he rounded the couch and took a seat. Bringing the glass to his lips, he took a sip and propped his bare feet on the coffee table.
So he didn’t want to talk about the game. Fine. She had a million questions she wanted to ask him. “Did you decorate this place, or did you hire an interior designer?” She’d keep it light until he relaxed. Then she’d ask the good stuff.
Mark took another drink of the amber liquid. The corded tendons of his throat worked and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I hired someone. I can’t decorate for shit.”
She smiled. “So you don’t have an affinity for colored rocks?”
That got a tiny smirk out him. “Nope. But they kinda grow on you after a while.” He dropped his head back against the backrest, exposing the long line of this throat. A day’s growth of deep bronze hair shadowed the strong line of his jaw and his lean cheeks.
Lorelei tucked her legs underneath her and leaned back against the plush cushions. “Do you ever get tired of the grind of professional baseball? Ever think about retirement?”
He rolled his head along the back of the couch and looked at her. “Every player has to think about retirement somewhere down the line, Lorelei. As much as we’d like, we can’t play ball our whole lives.”
Curiosity prodded her to ask, “What would you do if you couldn’t play baseball anymore?”
“Are you trying to jinx me, sweetheart?”
The day’s stress and the alcohol had his voice growing rough. The velvet sandpaper sound of it crept inside her and lodged in her chest. “No, I was just wondering what you would do, that’s all. What your other interests are.”
“Uh-huh. I’m not going to answer that because you’ve already jinxed me by stealing my good luck charm. Any chance you’re willing to give it back?”
Lorelei shook her head.
“Didn’t think so.” He sighed. “Am I going to have to have you arrested after all, Lorelei Littleton?”
She leaned forward and took the glass from his hand and swallowed a small amount. It burned a path down to her stomach. “You don’t want to have me arrested, Mark. You just want something to blame for your performance tonight.”
“Is that so? Maybe I might enjoy seeing your sexy little butt carted off to jail in handcuffs. Ever think about that possibility? You’ve caused me a lot of grief, sugar.” His hand closed over hers and he brought the glass to his lips, took a long pull. His sullen gaze never left hers.
The feel of his large, hard hand on hers sent a spear of heat spiraling up her arm. She dropped her hand and stood. “I’m going to grab the bottle real quick.”
“Good idea. I wasn’t planning on getting drunk, but now that you mention it. Grab another glass, too.”
Lorelei returned with the liquor bottle and another glass. She started to hand it to Mark but he gave a look that spoke volumes and shook his head. “That one’s yours. I remember too well what happened the last time you brought me a glass.”
Guilt slammed into Lorelei and she nearly dropped the bottle. She recovered quickly, but her hand sho
ok slightly when she poured a drink. He watched until she took a drink and swallowed before he reached for the bottle to replenish his glass.
He had every right not to trust her. She’d done nothing to deserve trust, but it still stung just the same. Before her encounter with him she’d never done anything to deserve distrust and skepticism. And she discovered that it didn’t sit well that Mark felt both for her.
If only they’d met under different circumstances he would have seen the real Lorelei. But they’d met under these circumstances and she was just going to have to deal with it.
It would have made the whole thing easier if she could continue believing that Mark was the selfish womanizer she’d first thought him to be. Instead, she was beginning to have a sneaky suspicion there was a whole lot more to Mark Cutter than met the eye.
Turning, she strode over to the panoramic windows and gazed out at the lights of downtown Denver. It was beautiful. It felt almost like being on top of the world with all the shimmering lights sprawling out before her. She hugged her arms to her, the snifter dangling from her fingers, and soaked it in. It was all so different from the world she lived in.
“Little League.”
She sharpened her gaze until it focused on his reflection in the window. He was still lounged on the sofa with his feet outstretched and his head tipped back. In one hand he held the glass, the other rested across the flat plane of his belly. His hand shifted and he lazily scratched the skin just above his pelvic bone, and Lorelei felt it in the pit of her stomach like a caress. Heat flooded her and pooled in the same spot on her where his hand touched him.
What was she doing feeling so much chemical attraction for a man who thought so little of her? A man who, with one misstep on her part, would have her arrested without a second thought? It was insane. And stupid.
So why couldn’t she stop it?
Movement in the glass caught her attention and she watched as Mark raised his head and looked at her. He was waiting for her response. “What are you talking about?” she said. “You’ve lost me.”
In the reflection she saw him take another drink and lower the glass to rest on his thigh. “You asked what I would do if I couldn’t play. I’d coach Little League.”
“Really?” That was a shocker. “You’d want to teach kids?”
He pressed his lips together, revealing the deep creases in his cheeks, and frowned. “I’m not a complete ass, Lorelei. I do have a few redeeming qualities. I like kids. To me it’s more rewarding to coach them than it is an adult team, all right?”
If she wasn’t mistaken, she’d just offended him. And wasn’t that strange? She’d insulted a man known by and large to be a completely arrogant jerk. She hadn’t known it was possible. An apology was in order. “I’m sorry, Mark. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Yeah, you did,” he countered. “But that’s fine. It doesn’t really matter what you think of me. You’re only here because I need my lucky charm.”
So that’s what it boiled down to. The bottom line. Lorelei swirled the half-forgotten drink and took a deep pull of the rich Caribbean rum. Heck, she knew that, but to hear him say it with such annoyed finality was jarring.
The moment at the club last night had been nothing more than a passing urge to him. She could have been any woman last night and he’d have done the same thing. The blond bimbo could have been in his arms and he’d have wanted her, not Lorelei.
She knew that with gut certainty because he was Mark Cutter, and people didn’t get a reputation like his for nothing. Women were nothing more than a passing amusement, a moment of distraction.
Last night had been her moment and now it was gone.
Lorelei tossed back the rest of the rum and wiped a forearm across her lips. She turned from the windows and squared her shoulders. Knowing that only made her job easier.
Guilt was a five-letter word that didn’t belong in her vocabulary. In fact, it was a good thing that Mark reminded her so bluntly where she stood before she lost sight of what she was doing there in the first place. Before she found herself falling for a cold-hearted baseball player who didn’t give a crap about her.
Mark Cutter deserved to be brought down a peg by a woman. And she was just the one to do it.
Chapter 15
LORELEI STILL COULDN’T believe she was in Philadelphia, a city of such rich history. It was home of the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, and Benjamin Franklin. The former two being places she’d love to see. Still, more importantly to some of the less historically minded, Philly played host to the Eagles, the Flyers, and some of baseball’s rowdiest, most enthusiastic fans.
When Lorelei walked into Citizens Bank Park the roar of the crowd was jarring. She couldn’t believe the mad crush of fans in red and white jerseys. The atmosphere was nearly manic. Normally baseball fans were the subdued sports enthusiasts—brainy, courteous, quiet unless cheering a play. Apparently somebody forgot to give the Phillies fans the memo.
It was nuts.
No wonder Mark loved playing baseball. It was pure enthusiasm. If these fans were anything to go by, baseball fanatics would be crazy enough to pay an armload for Mark’s charm.
Earlier she’d had the brilliant idea to use the hotel’s business center to put it up for auction on the net. But before she’d been able to enter all the information she’d caught sight of Leslie searching for her near the bathrooms and she’d had to bail. She’d been so close, too. Maybe his necklace really was charmed, because she was having a heck of a time getting rid of it.
But she wasn’t about to give up.
Leslie nudged her side. “Mark got us great seats for the game tonight. We’re three rows up from the boards on the first base line. We’ll have the best view of all the action. And there’s bound to be tons of it tonight.”
If the frenzy of the crowd was anything to go by she didn’t doubt it.
They made their way down the steps until they found their seats. A balding man with his face painted red and white and sporting a Phillies jersey blocked the aisle. He looked at them and said, “You gonna cheer for our boys? It’s gonna be a great game tonight.”
Leslie shoved past him, followed by Lorelei. When they were standing before the plastic seats, Leslie turned back to the Phillies fan. “We sure are going to cheer for our boys tonight, aren’t we, Lorelei? Our boys are going to kick your boys’ butts. The Rush has the better catcher and stronger fielders.” She smiled sweetly and plopped down.
“Saying things like that in this stadium could be very dangerous, I’m thinking,” Lorelei mumbled as she sat next to her.
Leslie winked and grinned. She turned to the blustering man and said, “Y’all don’t mind a little good-natured ribbing, do you?”
The guy shook his head. “Nah, but you got it all wrong. Our fielding is way better and our catcher is ten times better than Cutter is.”
Leslie leaned around Lorelei and challenged, “You care to bet on that?”
Here comes trouble, Lorelei thought. Betting on Mark wasn’t the wisest choice considering the way he’d played the last game.
“All right. Twenty bucks to whoever’s team wins. You’re gonna regret betting against the Phillies. They’re kicking ass this season. And Cutter’s been playing pathetically this go-round. But I’ll gladly take your money.”
Stretching out her arm, Leslie leaned across Lorelei and shook the balding man’s hand. “You’re on. And I wouldn’t count Cutter out just yet if I were you. He’s got a hell of a comeback record.”
Lorelei hoped that was the truth as she watched them shake hands on the bet. Music sounded through the stadium speakers loudly as they waited for the game to begin. Lorelei could see JP Trudeau first at bat, Mark on deck behind him.
The guy next to her stood up and yelled, “You suck, Denver Rush! You suck, Cutter!”
Lorelei felt like punching him in his pudgy face. She gave him a good glare instead and stood up.
Placing her fingers in her mouth, Lorelei blew and relea
sed an ear-piercing whistle. “Yeah! Go Cutter! You rock! Whoo-hoo!” For added measure she threw her hands up and punched the air. Then she looked down at the man with his red and white face paint and smiled. She had to clamp down on the urge to stick her tongue out, too.
She didn’t like anyone bashing her boy like that.
Glancing back at the field she saw Mark looking at her while he swung a weighted bat, his eyes unreadable. For several long heartbeats he stared at her, studying her, before he turned his head.
Lorelei realized she was standing there like an idiot and quickly sat down. It wasn’t the smartest idea to stand up in a stadium bursting with infamous Phillies fans while hollering for the enemy for very long. They might start throwing something. Like batteries.
She realized Leslie was staring at her. “What?”
“You really like him don’t you?” she said.
More than she should. “I just didn’t like that bozo calling Mark names, that’s all.”
Everyone hushed for the National Anthem and then all of a sudden the stadium went absolutely wild as the music changed. Lorelei watched as the Phillies’ starting pitcher warmed up on the mound to the tune of “Good Times, Bad Times” by Led Zeppelin.
And she’d thought the Rush fans were loud.
Leslie leaned close. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? Milwaukee is the only other city I’ve been to that rivals Philly for baseball fanatics.”
All around her people were standing and yelling for their team, thousands of voices raised in chaos. “It’s mind-blowing,” she had to admit. “I never really thought baseball fans were rowdy.”
“That’s why I never miss an opportunity to come when Mark plays here. It’s too much fun to miss.”
“So that’s why we flew over together? Not because Mark wanted you to babysit me?” It still vaguely annoyed her even though she liked his sister a lot.
Leslie tossed back her blond hair and laughed. “Is that what you think?” She dabbed a pinky finger at the corner of her eye. “You mean Mark hasn’t told you?”
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