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Players Page 45

by Rachel Cross


  Tiana quivered in his arms, and he stroked her hair, staring down at her naked face. She’d never been more beautiful. Despite her five-foot-seven height, everything else on her body was petite and dainty. High cheekbones against flawless dark chocolate skin. Pert lips formed a perfect cupid’s bow. A small cleft perfectly divided her elfin chin.

  Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled.

  He inhaled, and everything else ceased. He no longer heard the cat clock ticking on the wall, or the boring voice from the documentary on the TV, or the car horns and busy pedestrians from the street below. Only Tiana and her smile existed. A mysterious, Mona Lisa smile that was a punch to his solar plexus.

  “Hey,” she whispered, her voice diluted of her usual rigid formality. “You’re here.”

  He swallowed, tracing her lips with his finger. “Of course I’m here.”

  “M’kay.” Her eyes closed again.

  Leaning over, he grabbed the phone from his pocket, sent a quick text to his boss to let him know that he would be working from home, and then resumed his perusal.

  “Will you stop perving on my sister?” Her brother walked over with a fleece blanket in hand. “You’re stroking her like Gollum from The Lord of the Rings.”

  He handed Nathan the covering. “Mellie says she’s got the chills. She’s been hot and cold all night. So when she’s cold, just pull this over her, all right?” His forehead crinkled with concern. “Oh, and I gave her NyQuil earlier. Forewarning, she gets a little loopy.”

  Nathan wasn’t sure if her brother’s concern stemmed from her illness or because she was snuggled in his arms. “I’ll take good care of her. Don’t worry.”

  A blinding light momentarily robbed Nathan of his senses. Casey waved the phone at him. “I know you will. I spoke to Melanie, and she told me you were legit. I also have your picture and looked you up on the company website since you’re Tiana’s boss and all.” Casey pocketed the phone. “If I return and my sister is hurt or missing, I’m sending your pic to the NYPD.” After his rant, her brother bent over and stroked her face. Her beautiful brown eyes fluttered opened again, and she smiled. Not her Mona Lisa smile, and Nathan’s heart pumped harder than an Olympic sprinter running a hundred-yard dash.

  Tiana reached to grab Casey’s hand. “Don’t cry Casey-poo. I won’t tell Mama you broke the table. I won’t let her hurt you again.” She yawned and snuggled deeper into Nathan’s chest. “Promise.”

  Something dark flickered through her brother’s eyes. He cleared his throat and stood. “Like I said, take care of my sister. God knows she takes care of everyone else.”

  Chapter Ten

  Tiana was having the most wonderfully delicious dream. She was warm, safe, and content nestled in the strong arms of a man. She didn’t know who the man was. But from what she could tell from the biceps around her arms, he was seriously built.

  She inhaled his scent. Citrusy, but still all man. “You smell nice.”

  “Still high off the cough syrup, I see.”

  “Mmmhmm.” She squeezed his biceps. “You work out?”

  “Run five miles and box every morning. But you know that.” His voice was soft and amused.

  “I do?”

  “Yeah.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You know that, babe.”

  “I like your voice, too,” she continued the compliments in her happy dream.

  “What do you like about my voice?”

  She inhaled him again, burrowing deeper into his carved-out-of-granite abs. “I like how it makes me feel. It’s like . . . ” She searched her brain for the right words. “It’s like silken sheets and sex. The good kind, not the ten-minute kind.”

  His body shook. “It would never be ten minutes with me, Peaches.” His voice was rich with laughter. Goodness, his laugh was even better. She wanted to see his face. Watch him smile. And she liked how he called her Peaches. But she shouldn’t.

  “You can’t call me Peaches,” she mumbled into his chest. “Nathaniel calls me that.”

  “Right . . . You know I’m . . . ” Her dream man sighed. “Never mind. I take it you don’t like Nathaniel?”

  Did she dislike Nathaniel? A few months ago, she wouldn’t have spat on him if he were on fire. Nowadays, she just didn’t know. Her head pounded against her skull, as hazy memories flashed. She didn’t hate him; she was upset that he thought she of all people, was a cheat and a thief. “He doesn’t trust me. Thinks I stole the internship from him but it wasn’t me it was . . . him.”

  “Him who?” a deep and cautious voice asked.

  “The professor he . . . wanted me. Lied to the company. Found out. Didn’t take the job. I couldn’t do that to . . . to Nathaniel.” Her head pounded as the memories became more painful. “Should’ve taken the job.”

  “Why?” he whispered.

  “Because I never would’ve met Greg.”

  “I’m sorry, Peaches,” a soft, remorseful voice whispered as she drifted back to sleep.

  • • •

  Did I just finish running a marathon? Sweat-soaked with achy limbs and perspiration pouring like buckets of water from her body, she rolled over—smack into a muscled mountain.

  What in the world? Her eyes scaled the large mound and landed on dark, fathomless eyes. Holding her breath, she immediately hacked her already-burning lungs away. Not a good idea seeing as I can’t breathe.

  “I . . . you! What are you doing here?” She wheezed and gasped after her outburst. Apparently yelling was off the list of things to do, too, especially with the punk rock band that was having a concert in her head.

  “Take it easy, Peaches.” Gently grabbing her shoulders, he moved her back to his lap. “You woke up just in time for soup.”

  “Soup?”

  “Yes. Your brother got the ingredients while you were knocked out. I made you homemade chicken vegetable soup. You can’t get better off of those high-sodium canned soups in your cabinets.”

  “Did I sick dial you?” She scrunched her forehead, this time from confusion and not from the headache-inducing rock band. The band needed a name. Tiana’s Tormentors would do. “Sick dialing is just as dangerous as drunk dialing, and you should never take someone seriously if they call or text you in that condition.”

  He pressed his lips together, eyebrows at his hairline. “Is that even a thing?”

  “It is. You take NyQuil, and the next thing you know your ex is at your door with a box of Kleenex, condoms, and bourbon because the alcohol will knock out the cold.”

  He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, brimming with disbelief.

  “True story. My ex, Remy, did that once.”

  “I see you dated a lot of boys in Atlanta.”

  Tiana faked a cough that, unfortunately, turned into a real one. “Where’s my soup?”

  “Now is that any way to speak to your doctor?”

  “You wish.”

  Deep laughter floated and vibrated throughout her body. She wanted to bottle his laughter and open it whenever she felt dark and lonely.

  “There she is.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. Then he cleared his throat and looked away, jerking his thumb away from her face. “Let me up for a moment, and I’ll grab a bowl of soup and crackers. You’ll be good as new in no time.”

  “Okay.” Shifting, she laid her head on the other side of the couch.

  Closing her eyes, she retraced the path where he’d grazed her cheek. She liked it. And she liked when he’d outlined her lips with his strong, calloused fingers. Her eyes popped open from the recollection and other memories flooded in. “Did you really get into a fight with my little brother? And where is Casey?”

  A warm bowl of soup in hand, he sheepishly placed it and a large glass of water on the table in front of the couch. “We didn’t come to blows, but I may have nudged the door open which resulted in a misunderstanding.” Dipping the spoon into the bowl, he scooped a hefty serving. “He went to get you more tea and honey. Now, open wide.”

&n
bsp; She cocked her head and frowned. “I’m not letting you feed me, fool.”

  “Just the first scoop. If you don’t, it’s bad luck, and you won’t get well as quickly.” He blew a breath to cool the soup and lifted the spoon to her lips, his expression as earnest as a kid sharing his prized possession.

  For some reason, she couldn’t resist. “Fine. One time. That’s it.”

  Rewarding her with a smile, he pressed the spoon into her open mouth. A bouquet of flavors—fresh herbs, lemon garlic, and a hint of spice—flooded her senses.

  She chewed and swallowed. “This is . . . this is actually good! I’m impressed.”

  “I excel at all things, Peaches.” He wiggled his brows suggestively.

  Ugh. Leave it to him to make anything and everything sexual. She wasn’t going down that path with him, especially with everything that happened between them Saturday.

  “Sure you do. Did you get the recipe from your mommy?” She grabbed the spoon from his hand.

  The teasing expression left his face, replaced by something dark, heavy, and angry. “No. That woman doesn’t know how to boil water,” he spat. He looked away and then cleared his throat. “My dad. He was the one to show me. His grandmother’s recipe.”

  Tiana turned at the sound of the twist and click of the top and bottom door locks.

  Pushing the door open, Mel teetered on stilettos that she still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of wearing. A heavy laptop bag hung from her shoulder. “There’s my favorite patient!” She dropped her belongings in the middle of the floor.

  Tiana sighed. One day she would train her friend to put things in her room.

  “And oh! Looks like you have yourself a gentleman caller.” Mel played up her southern accent in an I-dee-clare voice. Her eyes twinkled when she turned to face Nathaniel. “I guess doggedness will get you anywhere.”

  Tiana frowned. What does she mean by that?

  “Ten points for the word of the day. Catch up, T.”

  “Ahh, Mel!” Tiana scooped her soup. “We can’t play the word game when I’m sick. My brain is fried.”

  Nathaniel looked between both of them, face marred with confusion.

  Mel answered his unspoken question. “We have a word game for non-commonly used words. We started it when we were in high school, studying for the SATs, and never quit the game.” She wagged and pointed her finger at Tiana. “And it’s still on! I distinctly remember when my wisdom teeth were pulled that you still made me play. I told you that you would rue the day you crossed me!” She shook her fist in the air, adding a flair of her infamous drama.

  “Really, Mel?”

  “Yes, really. And while we’re at it, rue counts as another ten points. I am so kicking your ass right now.” Shrugging, she poked out her bottom lip, pretending to look sorry. “It’s pathetic, really.”

  Tiana dropped the spoon into her bowl. “Fine. I wish you’d use the same doggedness you do to hunt down a story lead and transfer that energy into organizing your room and putting things where they belong.” Forming a fist, she coughed into her hand.

  “Slow down, Peaches.” Nathaniel rubbed her back until she finished the coughing fit.

  “Not done,” she gasped and narrowed her watery eyes at her roommate. “And if you drop that damn laptop bag and kick your shoes off in the common area one more time, you will rue the day,” she shook her fist in the air, mimicking Mel’s dramatics, “you tossed your stuff around.”

  “Fine, fine.” Mel picked up her shoes from the doorway. “You get bonus points since you’re sick, so it’s a tie.” Mel turned to Nathaniel. “You are officially relieved of duty, sir. Thank you kindly for taking care of my bestie.”

  “My pleasure,” he replied to her but stared at Tiana. “Guess I better get going. Take all the time you need, Peaches.”

  Grabbing her hand, he lifted it, lips lingering near her knuckles. “I . . . ” He squeezed her hand and moved it back to her lap. “I hope you feel better.”

  He stood and nodded at Mel. “Later.”

  “Later,” she repeated.

  The door closed, and Mel crossed her arms over her chest, smiling like a lunatic. “Hey, peeeaccchess.”

  Tiana rolled her eyes. She would never live that damn name down.

  Mel plopped onto the sofa opposite Tiana. “You and I need to have a talk about your loooooove slave.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Julia met Tiana at the elevator, bouncing around like a crack bunny missing a bathroom break. How did she know I was coming in today? I’d only told Nathaniel and Mr. Goldberg.

  “You’re here! Mr. Goldberg said you’d be in today,” the intern said in a reverent voice, as if Tiana had just returned home from war.

  “Yes. And I’m feeling much better after resting for an entire week.”

  Julia pushed a steamy mug of tea into her hand. “I transposed all your notes from our Fiete meetings. I did more research on Jake Ross. Annnd, I drafted a script for the commercials, and . . . ” She looked down at her shoes, finally taking a break from her monologue. Samuel L. Jackson had nothing on her. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want us to lose momentum.”

  Tiana actually didn’t mind. Any other person who did that would make her suspicious, but the intern’s heart was in the right place. Tiana patted Julia’s hands, and the girl’s face turned fire engine red. “That’s fine. Let me catch up with emails, and we can review your script after lunch.”

  Julia bit her lip and smiled. “That would be ah-mazing!”

  Tiana laughed at her enthusiasm. “It’s a date. And nice cardigan by the way.” She pointed at the intern’s green sweater covering a black-and-white polka dot blouse. Picking up her pace, she rushed to her office. “See you after lunch.”

  She pushed open the door and sighed; relieved Nathaniel hadn’t made it in yet. She needed to bolster her defenses. The past week had been a mixture of confusion and . . . She didn’t want to let her mind even consider the other thing. Little by little her memories had returned over the course of the week. She recalled the sweet things he’d done for her, like wiping the sweat from her face and their whispered conversations. The confession she’d made about the internship. Did he believe me?

  He hadn’t brought it up again after he’d dropped by a few more times throughout the week to check in. He even brought her magazines and made another batch of his delicious soup. Ah, who am I kidding? I’m attracted to the cocky son-of-a-biscuit eater. She ported her laptop and looked around as if someone could hear her thoughts.

  She couldn’t do it. She absolutely would not go there. Nah, ah. Never ever again.

  “Stupid asshole Greg,” she mumbled to herself. Her ex had proved to be a cautionary tale. Never shit where you eat. And in her case, never get involved with a coworker.

  She’d always been a picky dater. As a scholarship recipient at an exclusive private school in Atlanta, she’d always been viewed as the smart, poor girl. The guys pretended to be into her and would praise how smart and witty and cool she was, while using her as a tutor.

  But when it was time for a school dance, she was never asked. No, they wanted to meet her after the dance.

  That’s how she and Mel became best friends. Mel had been on a date with Tiana’s boyfriend Rich when he’d pretended to go to the bathroom but called Tiana instead. He’d sweet-talked Tiana, apologizing for standing her up and telling her that he’d lost track of time helping his little brother with homework. Tiana’s little teenage heart had melted at the excuse. She, of all people, understood family came first. But Mel overheard the conversation, grabbed the phone from Rich, and informed Tiana that she and Rich were on their first and last date and that Tiana could gladly take that waste of human flesh from her hands. They went back and forth about who could have him, throwing creative insults about their deadbeat boyfriend.

  Tiana laughed at the memory, leaning back in her chair. She and Mel had been inseparable ever since.

  “Glad to see you in fighting form again.
” Nathaniel’s deep voice boomed from the door.

  Like a parched wanderer in the desert, she greedily drank him in. Black suspenders ran parallel to his powerful chest; one she now knew had hard planes, outline, and definition.

  The gold-and-black-striped bow tie had her itching to unwrap him like a gift. A sexy gift she had no desire to return.

  “So I was thinking, Peaches.”

  “Don’t hurt yourself.”

  “Ha. Anyway, I was thinking that since I was at your beck and call for the past few days, nursing my wounded bird back to health, you owe me at least three outings.”

  She groaned, tunneling her fingers through her hair. No avoiding him. “I suppose you are due.” She crossed her arms. “Lay it on me.”

  “Don’t sound so defeated. Didn’t you have fun at the fair?”

  I had the time of my life. “Eh. It was all right.” She shrugged.

  He prowled in front of her desk and then leaned in. “Tomorrow night. Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.”

  “Tomorrow? But that’s a weeknight!”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll have you tucked in, safe and sound, by midnight. He leaned in close and whispered into her ear. “We both know how you like me tucking you in.”

  Her mouth was open, gasping and breathing in his citrusy scent. Like it had been shot with a needle of adrenaline, her heart rammed against her chest.

  Nathaniel’s low rumble vibrated the air.

  She panted while her bones melted and turned to gelatin. Her arms, heart, and mind were useless and utterly spent.

  Stroking her face, he then leaned away, eyes still intently focused on her. “I’ll pick up you at seven. The place is within walking distance of your apartment. Say yes.”

  “Yes?” She winced at the uncertainly in her voice. “I mean yes. I’ll do it.”

  He moved back to his desk, breaking the spell.

  The fog of lust lifted. “Wait. What are we doing?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “I hate surprises.” Her voice was flat and not at all amused.

 

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