But just about then, his brain started broadcasting updates on all the ways his body wished to capitalize on this moment. She’d taken a huge risk to grab what she wanted. And he couldn’t deny that he wanted her, too. So how could he possibly ignore her sweetly perfumed skin, her long lean limbs that his shirt did nothing to cover? The swell of cleavage that distorted the number on his jersey lured his attention back to her breasts.

And hell, yeah, he knew he was making excuses to follow his libido, but he was also quickly losing the will to give a damn.

“Nobody’s twisting your arm,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

He’d seen her, noticed her in the way a man notices a woman, and yet he hadn’t acted on that in the year and a half he’d been here because he’d tried to throw all his focus on his job.

No more. A shot at a championship wasn’t worth throwing away the chance to touch her.

Delaney Blair had bared more than her body to him just now. She’d bared her desires. Her hopes. And she was—without a doubt—the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

Bracketing her hips, he quit thinking and drew her close. Her gasp of surprise fanned the latent heat in his chest.

And he kissed her.

Gently, he brushed his mouth over hers, savoring the soft swell of her plump lips. She tasted like cinnamon—hot and sweet at the same time. Intrigued, he caught her jaw in one hand and held her steady as he conducted further investigation. Her lips were coated with something slick and sweet. But as good as she tasted, her lips weren’t enough a moment later. Heat flared all over his skin, firing his blood and igniting his hunger. Her body brushed up against his as she shifted position—a knee here, a thigh there—communicating tantalizing hints about how good it would feel to have all of her pressed tight to him.

He forgot who started this, forgot anything but the need to have more of her. Anchoring her with a hand splayed against the small of her narrow back, he teased her lips apart for a deeper exploration. She opened to him on a sweet, audible sigh of pleasure, an enticing sound he made it his mission in life to hear again.

Driven by a rush of hot desire, he backed her up a step and then reversed their positions. Guiding her through the break in the benches, he situated her against his locker, needing his hands free.

Heat crawled up the back of his neck, making his freshly showered skin itch with impatience to have more of her. His fingers speared beneath the jersey he’d covered her with, greedy to map every inch of unfamiliar terrain even though he knew every second he touched her was bringing him closer to the point of no return.

“You should stop me,” he warned her, certain he could rein it in on her command, but not entirely sure that he could still accomplish the feat on his own.

He’d had himself on a tight leash for the last two years, determined to finally achieve the elusive career goal of a series title in Atlanta. What if he’d used up all the restraint he possessed in those two years and he didn’t have enough to let go of Delaney?

“I don’t want to stop,” she assured him, her fingers working the buttons on his shirt with slow precision.

His thumb brushed the underside of her breast and she made that sweet sound again, the one he’d hear in his dreams tonight and every other night.

“You deserve more. Better.” He knew that in his rational mind, but that didn’t stop his one hand going to work on the clasp of her bra while the other slipped beneath the underwire to cup the soft, full weight.

Her teeth clenched as she hitched in a breath, her back arching to increase the friction of their bodies.

“I deserve this. Just exactly this.”

He rolled one hardened peak between his thumb and forefinger, knowing he was lost to this. To her. If she wasn’t going to say no, he didn’t have a prayer.

Just then, a flash of light filled the room.

Delaney let out a cry of alarm. What the hell?

Rick turned to see what was happening, wondering if someone from the cleaning crew had returned. But there was no mop cart or floor cleaner inside. Just a brief glimpse of a tall, skinny guy with a camera.

“Hey!” Rick shouted, unable to go throttle the guy without letting go of the half-naked woman in his arms and exposing her to the intruder.

“It’s okay.” Delaney wriggled free of him. “I’m fine. Go get him.”

Needing no more encouragement, Rick sprinted toward the spy, but the son of a bitch was right next to the emergency exit near the stairs. Calling on the speed that made him a stealing threat on base, Rick jumped a bench between him and the door and took off up the stairs.

If he didn’t catch this guy, there would be hell to pay when his picture appeared in the paper with a half-naked Delaney pinned against the lockers. Her father was going to love that.

Rick would be out of Atlanta before tomorrow night’s game.

Turning the corner to take another flight of stairs, he heard a car start in the distance. In the employee parking lot. Spinning around, he went back to the previous landing and plowed through the heavy metal door in time to see a car burn rubber on its way out of the lot.

Cursing a blue streak, he knew he was screwed. And not in the good way.

No wonder he’d kept his head down and his nose clean for two years with the Rebels. The one time he gave himself permission to enjoy life, it bit him on the ass with a surefire ticket off the team.

But even as the curtains threatened to fall on his career, Rick turned to jog back down the stairs to Delaney. If he was going to be lambasted publicly for his indiscretion, he would damn well have the satisfaction of seeing their encounter through to completion.



2



THERE WAS SOMETHING foreboding about Rick’s footsteps on the stairs.

Delaney heard it as she retrieved the sarong from the floor and retreated back to the main office to find more substantial clothing. She needed to speak to someone on the building staff about tightening up security at night, but her thoughts were too scattered to follow through on the task now.

She’d made a play for Rick and it had backfired with flare. Now she owed it to him to do the damage control it would take to protect his position with the Rebels. No doubt about it, her father would have him shipped to Seattle or Arizona—somewhere far from here—even if he had to trade for less talent. Her daddy might accept that he couldn’t interfere in her life anymore, but he’d have no qualms about interfering with someone else’s if he thought he was protecting her.

Damn it.

She adored her family, but they had never thought twice about meddling in her affairs. Some days she still wondered if it had been a bad decision to work for her father since it put her very much within his reach if he chose to stick his nose in her business. But the work was fun and exciting, a family legacy she was as proud of as any other Blair.

“Delaney.” Rick’s deep voice sliced right through her churning panic, putting all her focus back on him.

A shiver tickled her skin as a parade of sweet, sensual memories reminded her how exhilarating it had felt to be in this man’s arms after fantasizing about him for too long.

She looked up to find him in the doorway between the locker room and the reception area of the front offices.

“He got out of the building?” She was already unlocking her office, needing access to her computer if she wanted any hope of spinning the story. “Any chance you recognized him from press conferences? If we can figure out who he works for—”

“A guy like that wouldn’t be at a press conference. Anyone snapping those kinds of pics isn’t a member of the legitimate media.” He followed her into her office, his shirt still half-buttoned from her roaming fingers.

Wow. She couldn’t help a moment to admire the view since she wasn’t going to be able to capitalize on it tonight. Rick needed her help now.

“I’m so sorry I put you in such an awkward position.” She shouldn’t feel embarrassed—that had been the whole point of her disrobing tonight. But she was confused and worried and still extremely turned on.

Being a selective dater had left her without a man in her life for almost two years—a fact that coincided neatly with Rick’s arrival in town. And frankly, doing without for two years made a woman—edgy.

“What awkward position?” He shrugged. “I had my clothes on and I was standing in front of you so no one will know you were undressed. The way I see it, those photos are going to cause the kind of public flap that keeps sports stars in the papers. It’s not always a bad thing.”

While her brain grappled to comprehend how he could think this wasn’t a crisis in the extreme, he turned to close her office door. Then he locked them inside.

She jumped at the sound of the lock catching.

“What are you doing?” She clicked through a few keys on the computer, hoping for inspiration on how to handle this situation. She’d worry about beefing up security tomorrow. Tonight, she needed to help Rick prepare for a media tsunami.

“I’m making sure lightning doesn’t strike twice.” He stalked toward her.

He couldn’t be suggesting what she thought. And then it occurred to her what he meant.

“You want to be sure there are no more unwanted intruders.” How crappy that they had to think that way in the heart of a building owned by one of the best bank-rolled teams in baseball. “But I don’t think our picture taker would be stupid enough to come back here tonight.”