To Win Her Smile

by Mackenzie Crowne

  “As for the… What did you call the mob at the gate? Nosey Parkers?” He crossed one knee over the other in a seemingly easy slump, but she didn’t miss the returning tension in the tightening of his lips. “You’re right. My father upped his game this morning, but I was born a Hunter, remember? I’m also one of a small handful of league quarterbacks. Do you think I haven’t learned a thing or two about dodging the press?”

  The subtle bitterness in his tone sliced through her very reasonable anxiety, and her shoulders slumped. How could she not empathize with his frustration over the price of his fame when she’d been an unwilling victim of the same not so long ago? Still, their association was only temporary. She wasn’t willing to open an old wound by explaining her past brush with a famous athlete. Thankfully, she had another, much more compelling excuse for avoiding a personal entanglement between them.

  “I imagine you have.” She dragged in a ragged breath. “But the interest you’ve faced in the past will be nothing compared to what’s coming. Secrets are tricky things, Wyatt. Keeping them isn’t always possible.”

  The tension in his face shed with a teasing twist of his lips. “You have secrets, huh?”

  She sighed and stepped off the ledge at the point of no return. “We all do, I think. Even the famous children of presidential candidates—or their granddaughters.”

  His humor evaporated as he stilled. He slid his foot to the floor and his Adam’s apple jumped in his throat with his harsh swallow. “Ah, fuck.”

  Her insides quivered with the compulsion to rise from the couch and wrap him in her arms. Instead, she curled her fingers into her palms and nodded. “Precisely.”

  He ran a hand down his face and, slumping back in the chair, he studied her for a long moment. “So, what are you trying to tell me? That you’re an undercover journalist for some London rag and I can expect to open tomorrow morning’s addition and find an exposé on my niece and sister?

  She jolted as if he’d slapped her, then tossed up her chin. “Of course not. I would never betray either you or them in such a way. I was simply making a point.”

  “What point would that be?” He held her gaze. “That anyone who sees Meg and Mandy together can’t miss the resemblance or the love?” He sat forward and propped his elbows on his spread knees. “I love Mandy, too, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her from the public eye, but this plan of Meg’s was doomed from the beginning. Despite the steps she’s taken to avoid being seen with her daughter in public, I’ve warned her over and over the day would come when someone would make the connection and word would get out.”

  “Word won’t come from me, Wyatt,” Piper was quick to promise.

  The wrinkle in his brow smoothed out with a soft smile. “I appreciate that, but the truth will come out eventually. That’s just a fact of life. In the meantime, Meg’s deception has nothing to do with you and me.”

  “Wyatt.” Piper sighed and dropped her chin to her chest.

  “Are you attracted to me?”

  “Excuse me?” Her head popped up, and her gaze crashed into his.

  “You heard me. I asked if you find me attractive.”

  Hello! You’re a bloody sex god.

  She couldn’t prevent an un-baroness-like snort. “As if you have to ask.”

  “I am asking because I want you to say it. If I just don’t do it for you, then say it.” The intensity in his gaze, as if her answer held the key to the future, held her captive.

  “I...”

  “Otherwise, I’m asking you not to turn away from something both of us want. Something that just might wind up being more than five weeks of incredible sex.”

  Her heartbeat tripped into overdrive and left her breathless. Oh good God. What did he mean by that?

  “Here’s the thing, duchess. I’ve never had a woman stick in my head the way you do.”

  Piper frowned, unsure if that was a compliment or a complaint.

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong. I want you until I’m so hard I can’t breathe, but it’s more than that.” He straightened and jammed the fingers of one hand through his shaggy hair. A befuddled sort of acceptance replaced the humor in his eyes. “Even when you aren’t around, you’re in my head. I find myself wondering what you’d have to say about something I saw, or whether you’d have laughed at a joke I just heard. I watch the clock, knowing I’m going to see you soon, and I think, what can I say to get you to do that sexy little eye thing you do whenever you’re caught off guard.”

  She blinked and his smile came slowly. He waggled a finger at her face. “There. That right there. Shit, duchess.” He dropped his voice to a seductive croon. “That triple blink you do is hot as hell, and I don’t have a fucking clue why. But I’m willing to spend the time to find out.”

  Piper dragged in a ragged breath as surprise and yearning tangled in her belly and sent fissions of heat racing through her system. She considered slapping her hands over her puckering nipples, but that would just call attention to the fact he had her right where he wanted her.

  He slid onto the couch beside her and entwined her fingers with his. “I give you my word I’ll keep our relationship private. If that means wearing a fake nose, or changing cars three times and climbing the fire escape to your hotel room, I’ll do it. Just give me a chance to discover why you’re the first thing I think of when I wake up in the morning, and the last face I want to see before I go to sleep at night.”

  Her head spun even as her heart beat so hard it slammed against the inner wall of her chest.

  Ya see. He’s the devil I told ye he was.

  She bit her lip and clung to the last vestige of sanity. He’d probably used that line on a dozen women.

  A dozen, me arse. More like thousands.

  “Say it, Piper.” Tight with purpose, his face held no trace of his usual humor.

  She stared into his intent gray-green eyes and, for the life of her, she couldn’t remember why she was fighting him. It was no use. If he was the devil, then she was going to hell. She stuck out her chin and leapt into the fire. “You know you do it for me.” His eyes darkened as he leaned in to kiss her, but she stopped him with a hand to his chest. “How private is this cabin?” He quirked a brow and she nearly growled with impatience. “What I mean is, how discreet is your pilot?”

  One corner of his mouth kicked up in a boyish grin. “Very. Curtis has been a trusted friend since we were juvenile delinquents in junior high, but if you were thinking we could make use of this couch, you’re out of luck.”

  “Why?” She glanced around, then back, and her eyes went wide. She’d been sprawled half beneath him for the first twenty minutes of the flight. “Oh, bloody hell. Please tell me there are no cameras.”

  His smile was wicked and he lowered his mouth to hers. “No, but now that you’ve mentioned it…” He grunted as she poked him in the belly, then straightened with a laugh. “We’ll be landing in a little over two hours. We’re going to need a lot more time than that if I’m going to touch you the way I want.” He cupped her chin and brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. “You’ve inspired a few fantasies that require complete privacy without the chance of interruption.”

  Staring into his eyes full of heat and anticipation, she was in danger of melting down. Now that she’d committed to embracing the madness, the unexpected delay was frustrating, but he had a valid point. She looped her arms around his neck and offered him a cheeky smile.

  “Fine, then, but if your friend, Curtis, knows a shortcut to Manhattan, I suggest he use it.”

  Chapter 15

  Even if Curtis had managed to find a shortcut, it wouldn’t have made a difference. After a textbook touchdown at LaGuardia, his voice came through the speakers to inform Wyatt a news crew was apparently waiting to greet him. Once again, Piper was left to wonder if the fates or Karma or some other universal force w
as determined to keep her and Wyatt apart.

  Promising to climb her fire escape the first chance he got, Wyatt instructed Curtis to give him fifteen minutes, then see that she arrived safely at her hotel. With a sound kiss and a wincing apology, Wyatt left her in the plane to face the Nosey Parkers inside the terminal.

  She spent the rest of the week humming with anticipation but, come game time on Sunday, she was still waiting. It was just her bloody luck there was no fire escape leading to her hotel room and, on top of that disappointment, their respective schedules never seemed to mesh. The trouble was, five weeks might have sounded like plenty of time to produce the photographs needed for both the Marauders and Wyatt’s projects, but her models were all highly professional athletes on the same killer timetable as Wyatt. When he was working, so were they, and vice versa.

  Still, she’d made excellent use of her time. With Tuck’s dedicated memory card nearly full of usable photographs, she’d moved ahead of schedule with several of the other players on her list.

  Climbing from the car at the security entrance of the Marauders’ complex, she grinned at the memory of Wednesday afternoon spent with Gabe Tillman in his grandmother’s Brooklyn kitchen. The photos of the Marauders’ scary veteran center wrapped in a flowered apron as he rolled cookie dough onto sheets would no doubt raise a few eyebrows with the defenders he faced on a weekly basis. And from Thursday evening, the love in Mario Davis’s eyes whenever his gaze touched on Carla, his lovely fiancée, was bound to earn him some razzing from his teammates.

  After an interminably long week, the waiting would end tomorrow with an evening of carnal delights—or so Wyatt had claimed when they’d spoken by phone this morning. With the team’s normal day off falling on Monday, she’d scheduled a group photo shoot for the morning to include all twelve calendar models. She hoped to get a good start on the calendar project by shooting the cover as well as several of the men individually. Wyatt insisted they be done by noon. Apparently, he’d made plans for their afternoon and evening, and that totally worked for her.

  As he had last week, Kip kept her company throughout much of the game. Four hours later, free of broken bones or even the slightest bruise, she cheered along with the home team crowd as the Marauders added another win to their season with a 32-7 victory over Seattle.

  Returning to her lonely hotel room, she spent most of the night tossing and turning. When she did manage to drift off, Wyatt was there in her dreams. Again. Just as he had been all week. Unfortunately, Wyatt Hunter in dream form was as big a turn on and tease as the real-life version had proven to be so far. Each time she quivered on the edge of climax, he grinned and disappeared. Consequently, she showed up at the Long Island City studio V Fitzpatrick had procured for Monday morning’s photo shoot exhausted and more than a little irritable.

  “I think we’ll sell a lot more copies if we all take off our shirts.” Dead center in the back row of men, Jamal Knight flexed his arms in an Atlas pose.

  “In that case, my bare chest should be in the front row,” Tuck announced with a grin.

  “Yeah, taking off my shirt ain’t happening,” Gabe grumbled, and several of the bigger guys nodded in agreement.

  Three men to his right, Mario bent at the waist to sneer down the line at Gabe. “Maybe we should all wear aprons.”

  Gabe broke from his position to stalk toward him. “Asshole. Miss Darrow promised she wouldn’t use that shot, and I told you that in confidence.”

  Laughing, Mario scrambled two rows back on the bleachers Piper had set up and used several of his teammates as a shield. “I’m confident you looked sexy as shit in your grandma’s kiss-the-cook bib.”

  Snickers and outright laughter echoed off the converted warehouse walls.

  Perched twenty feet overhead on a rented mast lift, Piper watched in horror as her carefully staged groupings fell apart. Wyatt met her pointed glare with a crooked half smile and a shrug as, like boys on a precarious jungle gym, the remainder of the men took sides in Gabe and Mario’s impromptu game of chase on the temporary bleachers.

  A gasp escaped Piper as Gabe’s foot slipped and he went down. He landed on his ass, straddling the bottom bench. Envisioning half the Marauders’ starting line on the injured reserve list with broken ankles or worse, Piper cupped her hands around her mouth and screamed.

  Quiet descended over the studio as twelve men stared up at her with varying degrees of surprise. Wyatt’s shoulders shook with his silent laughter, his teeth flashing in a grin.

  She sighed and shook her head. “Gentlemen, we’re wasting time. I’ll never get the shots I’m after if you don’t cooperate.” She squinted at Wyatt. “And I don’t want to be here all day.”

  Apparently, he received her message loud and clear. His grin winked out and his brows dropped into a scowl. He cleared his throat. “The lady’s right. Smarten up and let’s get this thing done.”

  Wedged between the first and second rows of the bleachers, Gabe shoved to his knees, then his feet. His fist shot out and connected with Jamal’s belly where he stood on the top row. Four feet off the ground with his arms pin-wheeling, the Marauders’ top running back teetered backward. Piper’s breath caught in her throat until the two players on each side of him snagged him by the arms and averted disaster.

  Jamal regained his footing, but apparently wasn’t capable of overlooking his teammate’s meaty left hook. “You hit like a fuckin’ girl.”

  “From the looks of it, his grandma taught him how to bake cookies and throw a punch,” Mario contributed to the trash-talking fest, and the shoving match resumed.

  Tuck started to laugh, then ducked to avoid a swinging fist. Wyatt hopped from the bleachers and stayed out of the way.

  Bloody hell. It’s like herding cats. Shoving two fingers into her mouth, Piper let out a piercing whistle.

  Twelve pairs of eyes stared up at her.

  “Gabe!” She glared at the Marauders’ mammoth center. “No more punching. It’s not helping.”

  “Sorry, Ms. Darrow.” He sent her a sheepish wince that tugged at her heart.

  She leaned on the railing and curled her lips into an affectionate smile. “By the way, I thought you were incredibly sexy in your grandmother’s bib.” She shifted her best baroness glower onto Mario and then Jamal. “And anyone who has an issue with that can take it up with me.”

  Snickers sounded from the others, but neither Mario nor Jamal said another word.

  Nodding smugly, she straightened from the rail. “Now, you all have exactly thirty seconds to find the positions I had you in. If I have to come down there to reset any of you, I will not be a happy photographer. Believe me, you do not want that.”

  Her gaze caught Wyatt as he slapped a hand to his heart and affected a sigh. She rolled her eyes and stepped behind her tripod once more.

  A half hour later, she had the cover shot she’d been looking for. With the exception of Wyatt, the Fab Five guys took off. She’d be working with each of them in the coming weeks and would shoot the calendar photograph for their individual month then. She spent several hours with the remainder of the guys. By the time noon rolled around, the other seven months were in the can far ahead of schedule.

  The moment she snapped her last shot, Wyatt all but shoved the team’s all-pro corner back out onto the curb. A second later, the man spoke through the closed door, pointing out he wasn’t going anywhere without his helmet and the keys to his Harley. Piper pressed her hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles as Wyatt ripped the door open, shoved the guy’s helmet and keys into his hands, and slammed the door in his face.

  He turned to face her and threw up his hands in a what-are-you-going-to-do shrug, and she lost the battle with her laughter. Squinting in warning, Wyatt stalked to her, gripped her by the arms, and kissed her long and deep. He wore a self-satisfied smirk as he set her back, then had to steady her when she wavered.

  �
��That’s what I thought. Move it along, duchess. We’re burning daylight.”

  Turning her around, he gave her a gentle nudge toward her equipment bag. A residual giggle bubbled up and out of her mouth. Giddy at the proof Wyatt was as impatient to finally experience their when as she, she offered no resistance. In less than ten minutes, they had everything packed up and stored in the back of the SUV waiting just outside the studio door.

  As he drove them through the streets of the industrial neighborhood, Piper stared out the passenger window. Between the buildings, she caught an occasional stunning glimpse of the Manhattan skyline beyond the East River. Tempted to ask him to stop so she could retrieve her camera from the boot area where it had been stowed, she turned to study his profile.

  “If this is a shortcut to your place, it’s a dreadful one.” She tossed a thumb toward the opposite bank of the river. “The city is way over there.”

  He grinned and pressed a button on the console. “We’re almost there.”

  “Where?” Confusion wrinkled her brow.

  “Here.”

  Slowing the vehicle, he made a sharp right turn. A loading dock door rolled open in front of them, and he nosed the SUV inside the building. Surrounded by brick on three sides, the fit was tight, but Wyatt didn’t blink an eye as the metal door slid closed behind them.

  Piper squeaked as the walls around them began to drop.

  “Freaky, huh?” He chuckled. “I had a similar reaction the first time I was here. It’s an optical illusion. We’re being lifted to the second floor.”

  “We’re in a lift?” She shot him a sidelong glance as the brick around them disappeared and the second floor landing came into view. “Of course. We’re inside a vehicle...inside a lift.”

  His teeth flashed strong and white in his smile. “It’s a customized freight elevator. We’re perfectly safe.”