Playing for Hearts

by Debra Kayn

  A man bent over a self-serve newspaper dispenser outside the elevator, refilling it with the morning copies. She glanced at the headline and stopped. A picture of Juan smiling for the camera had hit the front page. She cleared her throat. “Could I have one of those, please?”

  The man stood, nodded, and held out the bundle.

  She dug out three euros out of her front pocket, not sure of the exchange or price. “You can keep the change.”

  He smiled and passed her the paper. She read the beginning of the article as she waited and then rode the elevator up to her floor. Once she walked out onto the third level, she snorted. Despite Juan being newly married, they still referred to him as Amante Español.

  If only they knew how he hated the name.

  She shoved the paper under her arm, and rearranged her bags so she could remove her key card from her pocket. She unlocked the door and walked in, dumping her things on the floor. Ana was right. Maybe a nap would snap her out of feeling sorry for herself and get her mind off of Juan.

  She walked straight to the bedroom. It wasn’t until she stopped to kick off one of her shoes that she realized she wasn’t alone. Juan stood with his back to her in front of the bed, his shirt off, his hair a beautiful mess, and the corded muscles on his back looking drool-worthy. Her gaze dropped to the mattress, and all the air in the room disappeared.

  A woman, lying on her pillow, in nothing but a slinky piece of black lingerie sat up in surprise. Dana couldn’t take her eyes off her, because she couldn’t believe there was a freaking woman in her bed.

  Juan slowly turned around, saw Dana, and muttered, “Fuck.”

  She stared at him in disbelief, numb and shocked. He’d taken another women to bed. He’d known she was going to be away from the suite this morning.

  “Babe … it’s not what it looks like.” Juan stepped toward her.

  She backed away, and bumped into the open door. “Don’t.”

  “Dana. Let me — ”

  “No.” She shook her head and whispered, “Don’t say anything.”

  Not able to stay in the same room as Juan and that woman any longer, she ran out into the main part of the suite, grabbed her purse, and left the hotel room. In the hallway, she searched for somewhere to go.

  She was in Germany. She had nowhere to go.

  If she tried to make sense of what she’d seen inside the bedroom, she’d only end up making a fool of herself. She walked away and continued distancing herself from her nightmare. She continued to the stairs, and headed down. The sight of Juan and that woman fresh in her mind, she could only keep moving to try to escape from the truth.

  She wasn’t the only woman in Juan’s life. There were always his fans. Fans willing to do anything to get a piece of the Olympic star. God, he’d fooled her for a month, thinking she was the center of his universe.

  But she should’ve known. He kissed someone else after his first event. The press hounded him constantly. He was Amante Español.

  Panic hit her as she pushed her way out to the main floor. She doubled at the waist, unable to inhale. Her chest squeezed, holding the sob in, and she freaked. Spots littered her vision and she leaned against the wall.

  Bruce walked through the door, spotted her, and grabbed her before she sunk to the floor. “Dana, shit, what’s wrong?”

  She patted her throat and shook her head. “I-I c-ca … ”

  He swept her up into his arms. “I’ll take you to your room, and call an ambulance.”

  She shook her head, and fought him. “N-no.”

  “Okay.” He murmured words that she couldn’t understand.

  Her life exploded, and she didn’t want Juan seeing her like this. She wanted to go home, and get as far away from him and that woman as she could. God, she was so stupid.

  “Talk to me, sweetheart.” Bruce carried her up the stairs. “Are you hurt?”

  She buried her head in his neck and shook her head. Yes, she hurt all over, but mostly in her heart.

  “Good … good.” Bruce shifted her, and opened the door. “Almost to my room, hang in there.”

  She tightened her hold on his shoulders. Bruce was big enough to hide her from the world. The world that would look at her and know that Juan had cheated on her.

  In Bruce’s hotel room, he set her on the couch. “Crista!”

  Dana wrapped her arms around her waist and leaned forward, rocking. She wanted to erase the last five minutes. She wanted to scrub her mind clean of seeing Juan with that woman. She moaned, forcing herself not to cry. This was her fault.

  She’d talked Juan into marrying her. Her father had paid him to take her. He needed her to compete.

  Crista rushed to her side and gathered her in her arms. “What happened?”

  Dana closed her eyes, thankful for someone here who’d hold her. If only someone could make everything better. She sucked at fixing her life. How was she going to get out of this mess? How was she supposed to stop loving someone?

  “I found her like this downstairs. I asked her if she needed help, and then she flipped out when I told her I’d take her back to her room.” Bruce held out a glass of water.

  Dana ignored the drink. Bruce picked up her hand, and set the glass in her grasp.

  “Drink. It’s vodka … it’s all I could find. It’ll help you breathe and calm down,” he said.

  Crista forced her to take a sip. She coughed, but once she stopped, a comforting warmth filled her chest and eased the tightness. She lifted the glass again. The next swallow was easier to handle.

  “T-thanks.” She inhaled a choppy breath.

  “Did someone hurt you?” Crista rubbed her back.

  She stared at the floor and nodded. The only person who had the ability to wound her to the core had. She always protected herself. Being Colton Reese’s daughter meant she guarded her feelings and never let another person’s actions or words affect her.

  But she’d let Juan into her life, and there was no stopping him. He’d romanced, played, and fooled her. She’d let him know her dreams, and allowed herself to be real for the first time in her life. Before she’d known what was happening, she’d forgotten they were only pretending.

  “Do you want me to see if I can find Juan?” Crista asked.

  “No.” Dana inhaled deeply, and took another sip. “I never want to see him again.”

  “Shit.” Bruce ran his hand through his hair. “This is not good. He has an event he needs to concentrate on.”

  “Shut up.” Crista glared at him. “Can’t you see she’s upset because of something Juan did to her?”

  She glanced at Crista. “That’s not true. It’s my fault.”

  Crista stiffened. Dana scooted back and pressed into the couch. These were Juan’s friends. She had no right to bother them.

  “I know your loyalty is with Juan.” She drank more from the cup, because right now that was the only thing making her feel a little bit better. “Just let me sit here for a few minutes, and then I’ll leave. I’ll figure out what I’m supposed to do and where I need to go.”

  Bruce moved and sat on the coffee table in front of her. “You’re not going anywhere. Whether you had a fight with Juan or not, you can’t go wandering around Germany by yourself without any protection.”

  “I really thought … ” She shuddered.

  “What, sweetheart?” Bruce laid his hands on her knees. “What did you think?”

  How could she answer the question? For the last month, she’d started to think that happiness was attainable to a person like her, and not everyone ended up like her parents. That she didn’t have to settle for compatibility and a smart business plan, but could let herself find love. True love, the kind other people found.

  She’d even second-guessed her stupid life schedule, and had decided to throw away her pre-conceived idea to follow a timeline for Juan’s much more spontaneous life.

  “I loved him,” she whispered. “For the first time in my life, I wanted him more than anything else.” />
  Crista held her hand. “What makes you think he doesn’t have the same feelings?”

  “I just do.” She handed Bruce her empty glass. “Would you mind if I had a little more?”

  Bruce glanced at Crista, who shrugged. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

  Once Bruce left the room, Dana turned to Crista. “I know you’re friends with Juan, but as a woman, please understand I’m not going to hurt him. I just need to leave.”

  “But what happened?” Crista frowned.

  “Amante Español happened,” she said.

  “No … ” Crista slouched on the couch. “He wouldn’t.”

  “He totally did. I saw them.” A shiver crawled up her spine. “She was in my bed, on my pillow, with my husband.”

  “I’ll kill him,” Crista muttered.

  Calmer and stronger, Dana patted Crista’s leg. “Let him finish the Olympics, and then you can do whatever you want to him. I’m done. I can’t keep doing this.”

  Bruce returned with two glasses and passed one to Crista too, who readily shot all of hers down in one swallow before turning to Bruce. “Men are assholes.”

  “Shit,” he mumbled. “Then you’re really going to be pissed when you find out I called — ”

  The door burst open, slamming against the wall. Juan stood in the room, shirtless, frazzled, and staring intently at Dana.

  Without missing a beat, Dana chugged her second glass of vodka back in one shot. Maybe he’d disappear and she wouldn’t feel like rushing into his arms and begging him to take her back.

  “Come on, we’re going to our room and talking.” Juan marched toward her.

  “No thanks.” She eyed the empty glass and frowned. “I’ve overstayed my month, our fake marriage is over. So is our flirtationship.”

  “What?” Bruce asked.

  “Oh, shit,” Crista whispered, shaking her head.

  Dana, for the first time since they’d started the stupid charade to fool everyone, felt like talking. “It all started when I got stood up at the altar by a guy named Jace. Totally screwed up my life schedule. I was devastated … and pissed. Juan showed up and helped me strip out of my wedding dress — God, such a waste. It was beautiful and lacy with a deep scoop, baring my back. My dream dress — and then I used my mouth on his zipper, and … ”

  She smiled as she kept talking. It really was an interesting story when she thought about it. She looked around the room, blinking to stop the room from spinning. Crista and Bruce stared at her in fascination. Juan glared at her. Determined to come clean, she continued.

  She wasn’t aware of when she stopped talking and Juan started. His voice lulled her into a comfortable place, and Bruce’s couch was really cushy. She closed her eyes and listened.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Juan paced the room, ignoring the time. In a half hour, he was supposed to be at a team meeting to pick up his time slot for tonight. Then he was to go immediately to the slope for the second of three events. By the end of tonight, he’d know the outcome of where he placed.

  “She’s waking up,” Crista whispered.

  Juan rushed to the couch. Dana yawned, looking around the room.

  No matter how many times he’d ordered everyone to leave, his friends and family had set up camp, determined to help. He wanted no one’s help. He wanted his wife to believe him, and look at him as if he could do no wrong.

  Earlier in Bruce’s room, he’d relayed the story of the woman in the bed until he couldn’t think of another thing to say and when he was done, Dana was conked out on the couch oblivious to what really happened. Damn Bruce for thinking a drink would fix Dana’s problem.

  Like vodka would straighten out his life, and get his wife back. She couldn’t even handle a hot toddy — of course two cups of vodka on top of jet lag would put her right to sleep.

  “Babe?” He sat on the coffee table and stroked Dana’s arm. “Can you wake up, and listen?”

  She blinked at him. He saw the moment everything came back to her, because she moved fast to get off the couch and away from him. He held her in place.

  “Listen to me for a second. It’s time for me to leave, but that woman … I don’t know who she was.” Juan brought her face around when she looked away. “I was in the bathroom, going to jump in the shower, and I heard the door open. I thought it was you. I hurried to finish washing, because I wanted to talk to you and find out what was going through your head the last several days. But when I went into the bedroom, I found the woman in our bed. You came in right afterward. Nothing happened,” he said.

  Dana stared at him. “I have a headache.”

  “Yeah. I bet you do. You can thank Bruce for that.” He scowled at Bruce. “I talked with security while you were sleeping. They’re going to put a security guard at the elevators, and make sure nobody without a pass makes it past the lobby. That should’ve been done to start with, but there will be no more fans allowed onto the upper floors without approval.”

  Dana frowned. “You really didn’t know her?”

  “Hell, no. You know me, babe. Have I given you one reason to doubt that I’m with you?” He moved over and sat beside her on the couch.

  “No, but you are Amante Español. Women throw themselves at you. Like the woman after your event that kissed you. You never stopped her.” She lifted her head at his mom’s gasp. “Oh God, I told everyone what happened between us, didn’t I?”

  “Look at me.” He hooked her neck and brought her eyes around to him. “I’m your Amante Español. Only yours.”

  Her chin trembled. “Everyone knows we’re not … we aren’t … that it’s all fake.”

  He leaned his forehead against hers and chuckled softly. “Yeah.”

  “I probably shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered.

  “It’s okay. Bruce was the only one who hadn’t heard. I’d already confessed to Mom and Maria. Crista knew from the start.” he said.

  She pulled back. “What? But they were so nice to me.”

  “They love you.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry you had to come in our room and see that woman. I’d never bring someone to our room. I hope you know that.”

  She nodded. “I feel better knowing you weren’t sneaking her by me when you knew I was working.”

  “Never,” he said.

  “I’m sorry I told everyone the truth.” She kissed him softly. “Today sucks.”

  “Yeah, it does, but it’s over. Right?” He waited for her to nod and kissed her again. “I hate to do this, but I need to leave. Will you be able to come to the second event?”

  “Yeah.” She inhaled deeply. “You better go.”

  He studied her, not wanting to leave. “Are we good?”

  She nodded.

  He whispered, “Promise?”

  “Promise,” she whispered back.

  Dana seemed shaky, as if what he said wasn’t soaking in. He stood, kissed his mom, and walked out of the hotel. He needed time for just Dana and him, and between now and the end of the games, he barely had time to eat, much less tell her he loved her in a way she’d remember for the rest of her life.

  The next hour, he went from meeting to meeting, and finally he suited up for the second event. In the dressing room, he called Dana. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

  “Better. Your mom, sister, and Crista made me eat, and that helped.” She paused. “Are you nervous?”

  “Not anymore.” He lowered his voice. “You’re going to watch me ski, right?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  “Okay,” he said on an exhale. “I better get ready.”

  “Juan, wait … ”

  “Yeah?” He dropped his chin to his chest.

  “Good luck,” she said.

  He smiled. “Thanks.”

  He disconnected the call. Feeling more positive that he managed to buy himself more time, he dressed in his Reese gear, and followed his manager outside to a waiting car, which would drive him five hundred yards to where he’d ride
the chair up the mountainside.

  The routine never changed, whether it was practice or the Olympics. He used the interval to meditate, to clear his mind, and relax all his muscles. He focused on the jump, imagining the entire run repeatedly in his mind until he could see how it’d turn out.

  He rode the chair up the slope by himself, preferring solitude to a pep talk from his trainer. Today, he needed to put his mind at ease after a day of total chaos and facing his greatest fear.

  He searched the crowd for Dana. She always wore her bright pink down jacket with the fur-lined hood covering her hair. Every time she wore the coat, he wanted grab hold of her and kiss her. He warmed. God, she was beautiful.

  Just looking at her kept him satisfied, and he wanted to spend the remainder of his days gazing at her. The way she wrinkled her nose when she was irritated, or the way her eyes widened when she tried to hide her reaction when he touched her. He doubted he’d ever get bored spending the rest of his life with her. She simply fascinated him.

  It’d killed him to see the hurt and disappointment on her face when she spotted the woman in their room. Who he was and what he did for a living had put her in that situation, and he took responsibility. He should’ve foreseen something like this happening, and made sure the hotel was secure enough to protect her.

  He’d changed since he’d met her.

  At the beginning of their plan to fool the coaches and the board into believing he’d given up his playboy lifestyle for married life, he thought he’d miss the women, the parties, and the attention. He hadn’t. Not one tiny bit.

  Despite the rumors, he was selective in his bed partners. He enjoyed a good time, but he preferred to know who he was sleeping with when he did decide to have sex.

  The lift came to the end and began to loop, and he slid off the chair. Coach Lindhurst waited for him. He skied over to the waiting area.

  “You’re first up.” Coach tapped his clipboard. “You’ve got the prime, headlining spot tonight to come in and win this thing. All you need to do is give a steady jump. Don’t risk anything, because we can throw this score out. Make a solid landing, and you’re in perfect position to bring home the gold.”