Playing for Hearts

by Debra Kayn

“Juan Santiago,” her father bellowed. “Probably the one thing you’ve done right, dammit.”

  She grimaced. “No, I really think — ”

  “You need time, especially with a man like Santiago.” Her dad sighed heavily. “Once you’ve calmed down, we’ll talk. If you still think you need to get out of your marriage, I’ll hire one of the best divorce lawyers in the state. Just think about what you’re doing and to whom you’re married before making a rash decision. Your union with him could skyrocket sales for the company.”

  “But, I — ”

  “You’ve always been impulsive,” her dad said. “Listen to me for once. Your marriage is exactly what we … uh … you needed.”

  “Whatever,” she muttered. “I need to go. I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

  She disconnected the call and stared at the phone. Without hesitating, she brought up the browser on the screen and searched her husband’s name. Watch it turn out that he was already married to that Crista woman he was talking to on the phone, and now she’d broken the law. It was one thing to marry on a whim, but she was a Reese. Scandal was something she didn’t do.

  Daddy would kill her if she brought any more disappointment down on the family. She’d already put herself on his bad side by defending her right to work at the rental shop at the lodge and refusing to jump into the shark pool of sellers. She enjoyed doing the same thing day after day without anyone knowing where she came from or who her father was.

  But there was something in her father’s tone of voice that told her she was missing some important detail. He seemed too excited, too happy, too encouraging about her marriage to Juan.

  A Santiago fan site popped on screen. She scanned the headings. Oh. My. God.

  Not only had she married a member of the U.S. Olympic men’s ski team, but also the guy everyone nicknamed Amante Español. She traced her finger over his face. Spanish Lover.

  How could she not have connected that the man known for seducing women in every city was the same guy who’d helped her strip out of her clothes?

  He’d romanced and flirted his way across the world, and no woman had ever tied him down. She shut off her phone. Now she remembered what she’d heard about Juan’s background. Known as the kid who’d worked his way up from poverty to a millionaire, charming everyone on and off the slopes, he was also the sports world’s most eligible bachelor, according to People magazine. Her daddy’s fortunes wouldn’t impress someone who’d built their own success.

  She smacked the top of the table. That’s why her dad wanted her to stay married to Juan. A famous skier would bring more attention to Reese Enterprise, which meant more money coming in to the company and her father’s hands.

  But that didn’t explain why Juan married her.

  A squeal and loud cheering broke out across the lounge, interrupting her thoughts. She gazed at the bar, spotted Juan surrounded by his fans, and slouched further down in the chair. He’d followed her.

  Along with a dozen women, he stood in the lounge, smiling at everyone as if his life hadn’t changed at all a few hours ago when he said I do. She drained the rest of her drink. No one, not even Amante Español, would make a fool out of her.

  She stood, shoved her phone in her pocket, and worked her way around the empty tables to her husband. Standing behind him, she overhead more than she wanted to hear.

  “Thank you, sweetheart. Not tonight. I’ve got practice in the morning, and need to be alert and ready to ski my heart out.” He accepted the exuberant hug from a woman with bleach blonde hair and fake boobs.

  Another woman, taller and dressed more for a summer night’s party than the winter season pushed her way between Dane and Juan. “I’ll make it worth your time, and leave you more energetic. The things I can do for you, no woman will be able to match, Juan.”

  Seriously? What a conceited bitch. Dana reached between them and yanked the woman away. “You’re more than anyone can handle, honey. Go sink your claws into someone else’s husband.”

  The woman topped Dana’s own five-foot-five body by a good four inches, but Dana refused to back down when the woman got in her face. Geez, what did Juan see in these skanky girls?

  “Babe.” Juan slipped his arm across her shoulders and led her away from the group. “I was looking for you. You shouldn’t have run off.”

  “Don’t ‘babe’ me.” She glared without missing a step. “New rule. While our marriage is still valid, you won’t embarrass me by hanging around your groupies.”

  “What?” He laughed. “My groupies?”

  “Sluts, hos, bunnies, skanks, bitches,” she waved her hand, “whatever you call them. I’m trying to be considerate, since you obviously have some reason why you married me when you’re rolling in money and can save your own ass.”

  “You threw yourself at my mercy. You didn’t have to say I do.” His mouth hardened and he dropped his arm. “And I can’t finance my way into the Olympics — it looks bad and my fans need to see that I have sponsors who believe in me enough to put their name on my back.”

  “Whatever.” She stormed off in front of him and entered the elevator. When the door closed, she turned to him. “I am a Reese. I will not allow you to embarrass, ruin, or damage my family’s name. Until I can talk to my lawyer in the morning, stay away from other women … and me.”

  “A lawyer?” He frowned. “Now, wait a damn minute.”

  “I’m sure he can have our marriage annulled by the end of the week.” She exited the elevator.

  He caught up with her and flashed a smile that made her catch her breath. “What’s the hurry? I thought we had an agreement.”

  “I’m sure you want to get back to Crista and your thousands of women who are ready to show you the art of screwing while standing on their head.”

  “Where did you get that number?” He threw back his head and laughed.

  “I Googled you.” She crossed her arms. “It was rather enlightening in a gross, rather pathetic way if you’re big on making your mark on the world by how many pants you’ve ripped off willing women.”

  “Don’t believe everything you read or hear,” he muttered.

  “You’re telling me that those women out there” she pointed at the door, “are not the same ones who I’ve spotted coming off this floor with their bare asses jiggling early in the morning when I’m going downstairs to work. I don’t know, Juan, they sure look familiar. I know a pleased smile when I see one.”

  “No doubt they’re the same ones.” He sat on the couch and stretched out. “But I’m telling you, I haven’t slept with any of them. You’ll just have to believe me.”

  She snorted.

  “I’m serious. It’s been two months since I’ve had sex.”

  “Setting world records there, Amante Español.” She rolled her eyes, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  He grinned. “Vicious, babe.”

  “Will you stop smiling? It’s disturbing. There’s nothing funny about our situation.”

  “I like this side of you,” he said.

  “You mean for a spoiled daddy’s girl, I’m two dimensional?” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Shit.” He groaned. “I didn’t mean that, babe.”

  “Yes, you did. I heard you.”

  “No.” He stood. “Okay, I did mean that, but not in a bad way. In a month, competitions will start and once I’m done, we’ll go our separate ways. Until then, can you act like you enjoy being married to me?”

  One month. She stared at Juan. If it would keep her in her daddy’s good graces a little longer until she had her life on track, maybe. At least a month would buy her enough time to find the strength inside of her to continue with her plans with a new direction.

  She stuck out her hand. “Fine. I’ll wait a month, but you can’t hook up with any other women while we’re married. That’s embarrassing for me, and I don’t want anyone laughing behind my back.”

  “No problem, babe. You won’t regret it. I promise.” H
e ignored her offer of a handshake and cupped her face with his hands.

  “W-what are you doing?” she whispered.

  “It’s called a kiss to seal the deal.” He lowered his head.

  His breath fed her. In. Out. One more inch and their lips would touch.

  “That’s n-not a good idea.” She stared into his eyes, which resembled melted chocolate right before it started to boil.

  He titled his head. “It’s a very good beginning … ”

  His gaze went to her mouth and his lashes covered his eyes. She moistened her lips. What would he taste like?

  She grasped his shirt, unsure whether she wanted to push him away or pull him closer. “With a quick ending.”

  “Stop talking,” he murmured, tilting her face higher.

  “I’m afraid to.”

  “Why?”

  Her breath caught. “You might ki — ”

  His mouth captured hers. A light kiss that allowed her time to adjust to the reality that she was kissing the famous Amante Español.

  The kiss was warm and firm, but soft enough to make her want more. She leaned in slightly, and electricity shot through her. Need burned hot and bright, melting her resolve not to ever touch him. Oh, God, I’m in trouble.

  He let go of her face and cupped the back of her head, holding her in place, while his free hand went to her lower spine and tugged her closer. He used just enough pressure to draw her that much more intimately against him, but not make her feel confined or forced.

  Parts of her began to ache. Startled, she realized she’d never felt this way with Jace.

  Juan deepened the kiss, then pulled back and looked into her eyes. “There will be more kissing.”

  She nodded, before she caught herself. “I mean, no. We can’t do that again.”

  Aware of how dangerous being married to America’s playboy was, she escaped to her room and shut the door. For good measure, she turned the lock. Her knees shook and her heart raced, and she knew it wasn’t fear, but an uncontrollable lust for her new husband that had her hiding.

  Chapter Four

  Snow blew sideways on the north slope of the mountain. Juan stood at the top of the run and adjusted his goggles. Last trip down for the day, and all he could think about was how Dana’s lips had softened against his last night.

  Despite his distraction during practice thinking about his wife, he’d clocked in on his second run. The coach was happy, and his wife’s daddy was footing the bill for him to continue skiing. He gripped the poles. As soon as the Olympics came and went, he’d pay back his new father-in-law.

  Being related to his sponsor sat wrong with him, and the guilt by association troubled his sleep. He pushed off the slope, leaning low and gaining speed. No one paid his way because of a deal made on his behalf.

  The fact that the money came for marrying Dana felt too much like a payoff for him to be comfortable with the arrangement. He stabbed the ground with the end of his pole, shifted, and pushed off. He used the powder to gain speed. What kind of father paid someone to take his daughter off his hands?

  Snow clung to his goggles. He ignored the harsh conditions affecting his visibility. Trees were on his left, and the chair line was on the right. He could close his eyes and know the trail without spotting the land markers.

  A burst of speed pushed him to the last crossover, and he put his skis together and rode to the finish line. Cheers from the fans gathered behind the fenced area knocked his wayward thoughts of how his life sucked at this moment away. He skied his way to the barrier.

  He’d never forget where he came from and where he was now. His fans came first, because they’d gotten him this far. Without their dedication, their hope of him succeeding, pushing him forward to be the best, he’d be just another guy wearing a pair of skis. They made him the athlete that he’d become. He never wanted to disappoint them.

  He pushed his goggles over his stocking hat and smiled. “Hey, ladies … ”

  Camera flashes blinded him. He held out his hand and moved along the fence. There was no reason to see their faces. All his fans expected the same thing, whether they were single, married, divorced, female or male. He acknowledged them all, gave them a little more of himself that they could take away with them and in the end, he was left alone, unsettled and missing a true relationship.

  His real fans were sitting in classrooms, dreaming about someday winning their own gold, or at home watching television, cheering him on. It was the people who he’d never know or meet that inspired him. It all came back to the start, because he was the kid who’d sat at home, staring at the flight of the professional skier, dreaming of the day he would be old enough to be that famous, that good, that much of an idol.

  “Thank you.” He raised his hand, pushing away. “Everyone ready to cheer on the U.S.A.?”

  “U.S.A., U.S.A., U.S.A.,” the crowd chanted.

  He waved, holding up one finger to show he’d earn the number one spot. Then he turned and skied toward the lodge. He had the rest of the day off, and a soak in the hot tub sounded better than winning the Olympics right now. His shoulder ached, and he knew the tension he was under wasn’t helping anything.

  Even though the time clock put him right on target today, he’d felt stiff on the turns and had put too much distance behind his strokes. He spotted a crowd at the back door to the lodge and skied faster. Normally, he snuck inside past the retailers during the day to escape the guests staying at the lodge for the season, but the crowd gathered around the door would make that impossible today.

  He skidded to a stop. The group was too large for him to see what was drawing everyone’s attention. He nudged the guy in front of him. “What’s happening?”

  “The chick in one of the booths kicked everyone out.” The man shrugged. “I’m buying a new pair of gloves, so I hope she opens up soon.”

  A sinking feeling came over Juan. “What’s the woman look like?”

  The man raised his brows. “A real looker. She’s the reason why I came down to buy the gloves. It’s not as if I need a new pair, if you know what I mean.”

  Juan exhaled. “What color hair?”

  “Blonde,” the man said.

  Juan clicked off his skis, picked them up, and pushed his way through the crowd, excusing himself the whole way. At the back door, he stopped in front of an angry woman with gorgeous blonde hair who glared at him. Moreover, his wife’s displeasure seemed personal.

  He widened his stance, blocking the others from view. “Hey, what’s up, babe?”

  “Don’t ‘babe’ me,” she whispered harshly. “This is all your fault.”

  “What did I do?” he said.

  “As if you don’t know.” She leaned forward, until the top of her head was level with his chin. “Kiss me, dammit.”

  He chuckled and meant to step back, more amused than concerned, but she grabbed his jacket and pulled him toward her. Their lips collided, and he winced. She definitely had a temper.

  When she continued to press her pursed lips against him, he dropped the skis and took her in his arms. If she wanted to kiss in front of the crowd, he wouldn’t turn her down. But he wasn’t going to let her bruise her lips to prove a point.

  He cupped the back of her head, cradling her in his hand, and leaned her backward. Her mouth opened in surprise, and he took control of the kiss. A real kiss, not some assault.

  He enveloped her bottom lip, then moved to capture both before pulling away slightly and then diving back in. His soul smiled when her mouth softened and her neck arched. He held her in place, tilting his head, wanting to revisit the taste that had driven him crazy last night. All he could come up with was she reminded him of a cool breeze coming off the ocean on a summer day.

  Rejuvenating.

  Tempting.

  Exhilarating.

  He swept his tongue along hers until her fingers dug through his insulated jacket to his arm. Only when he supported her full weight did he straighten and pull away from her lips without letti
ng her go.

  Dana stared drunkenly up at him. Her gaze no longer shot daggers, but had gone all soft and dreamy. He leaned back down.

  “How about we unlock the door and let the guests inside,” he whispered into her ear.

  She nodded, but otherwise made no move to address the people waiting behind them. He slipped his hand into her coat pocket. Empty.

  Juan kissed her lightly, switched his holding arm, and dug into her other pocket. His fingers curled around the set of keys. Sweeping up her hand, he walked her to the door while he fiddled with the keys.

  When he found the right one and opened the back door of the lodge, his wife still hadn’t snapped out of the kiss, so he pulled her to the side to make way for the people hurrying inside the building. He nodded and smiled at the curious looks and blatant snickering.

  Once the last person left him alone with Dana, he turned and slipped his hand behind Dana’s neck. He wanted another taste.

  “Get your hands off me,” she said, jerking away from him.

  “Whoa … ” He raised his hands. “You asked me to kiss you. Babe, you were right there kissing me back and liking it.”

  “So?” she mumbled, pacing in front of him.

  He was missing something. “You enjoyed it a lot.”

  “Shh.” She swiped the air with her arm, cutting him off. “That’s not important.”

  The hell it wasn’t. He gazed out at the ski slope, running back through the last five minutes and trying to understand what was going on. He was clueless. The only thing he knew was that Dana loved to pace. She paced any time she was angry, nervous, or confused.

  “I can’t do this.” She stopped walking, and planted her hands on her hips. “It’s over.”

  “What’s over?” he asked.

  She frowned. “Us. You and me. Our marriage.”

  Shit. Something big did happen?

  “Talk to me.” He stepped forward.

  She stiffened, lifting her chin. He ignored her attempts to push him away. She was talking about ruining everything. He wasn’t asking for a lifetime. He only needed her to pretend to be his loving wife for four weeks.

  “Everyone is laughing at me.” She rubbed her lips together and looked beyond him. “Four people this morning informed me that our marriage is a joke, including one of your teammates.”