Nice Girls Finish Last (3 page)

Seth watched for a reaction as she heard his name. While he didn't expect everyone in the country to know his face, his name was more out there. But she was terribly busy hanging those shirts—still hiding. When she finally turned, her expression was schooled into one hell of a poker face. No wonder the team called her untouchable. He thought she should definitely play some kind of…poker.

He stared blankly for a second before shaking the stripping fantasy free and focusing harder. She wasn't looking up at him, so he couldn't see if that gleam was there. Her lipstick was fixed but there was that extra fullness of her mouth. Frustrated desire flooded him and he cursed the presence of an entire rugby squad.

 

Seth Walker. Of course that was who he was. Lena didn't need Wikipedia to know all about him. She should have recognised him earlier. She remembered his name from when he sold off some scheme for kazillions to a big corporate conglomerate and she should have recognised his face from the about-town sections of the paper and the women's mags. The guy was the most wanted accessory of every beautiful socialite in the city scene. In fact the guy
owned
half the central city—was responsible for all those warehouse conversions into cool apartments and hip restaurants
and clubs. He was so driven in his career he made these athletes look like Tuesday-night social-sport amateurs. His projects would always come before his private life.

That lost him a lot of points.

The demerit gave her enough chill to be able to look his way and manage an impersonal, professional smile. But she couldn't quite meet his eyes and her heart hiccupped when she saw he wasn't wearing his jacket any more. He must have figured what she'd done to it and got rid of it. She glanced round the room, saw the tip of a sleeve poking out of the corner bin.

Right. She glanced quickly back at him, trying not to melt at the smile and the brilliant blues—and did he just shake his head a fraction?

Yes, from the non-reaction of the guys in the room she knew he hadn't said anything about what had happened in the corridor. They were unusually quiet right this second, but maybe the photographer had had a diva moment and told them all to behave, because she was certain Seth Walker hadn't done a brag.

That fact earned him several points back. The way his shirtsleeves clung to his broad shoulders scored him more than a few bonus ticks, as well.

Unasked, her brain continued digging out info. Bachelor of the Decade was the headline that screamed at her. Bachelor for Life if his behaviour ten minutes ago was anything to go by. Without doubt he played the field. Any man who got that close and kissed random women the second he had the chance ought to be given a wide berth.

Ought to be.

But Lena wasn't feeling as cautious as she should any more. No, she was giddily glad the sexy stranger wasn't a new starter for the team. He had nothing to do with rugby. He and Dion had to be mates and she guessed he was here to
check out the stadium—even the most successful business types got excited over an access-all-areas pass to the place. Her own excitement ratcheted up another notch. Technically Dion wasn't her boss—he'd been asked to manage the stadium by the council, while she was employed by the rugby club. So as Seth was merely the friend of a business colleague there'd be no hint of ‘at work' conflict. Her panic had been for nothing. And now the long-dormant hormones racing round her body filled her head with wonderfully wicked, over-the-top fantasies.

She tried to quell them with some common sense—the stuff she'd been at pains to develop in the last year or so. She'd been on ice for so long in the dating realm, a total playboy type probably wasn't the sort she ought to warm up with. Then again, her inner imp whispered, he knew how to have
fun.
There was a reason he was so popular with women and it wasn't his oversized bank balance. He knew how to kiss. It was obvious he knew how to do so much
more
than kiss….

Lena still wasn't ready for a romantic relationship—too busy rebuilding her career and family's respect. But surely there was no reason why she shouldn't have a good time with someone who wanted only the same and no more?

She felt him watching her—felt that
focus.
The all-sensual, mesmerising, irresistible attentiveness. Couldn't he be exactly the
right
guy to break her drought with? No complications, no confusion—it could stay that simple. She burned at the thought, her body so badly wanted to know his. But it was just a fantasy—she had no hope of pulling it off.

‘Seth, I'm going to be stuck here for a few more minutes,' Dion said. ‘Lena will take you up to the offices and you can talk to her. Take the scenic route, Lena—he hasn't been through this part of the stadium.'

Lena nipped the inside of her lip. Maybe Seth
had
said something. But she showed Dion's guests round the stadium all the time. It was part of her job, not an extraordinary request. ‘Of course,' she answered politely, desperately trying not to blush. She turned away from him and watched the team break up from the group-in-the-shower shot instead. ‘Not long to go now, guys.'

‘You better have the refreshments ready,' one of them called out.

‘Isotonics only.' She sent the group an apologetic smile. ‘They're already in the fridge. Doc's orders.' She turned towards the door and, under the cover of their groans, looked at him. ‘Mr Walker?'

He followed, his voice low enough for the others not to hear. ‘Oh, no, please, call me Seth.'

Just hearing him speak sent heat frizzling from skin right through to bone. Her heart raced light-years ahead of her body as she walked out to the corridor.

That
corridor.

She set a quick pace, fighting for composure as she stared fixedly at the concrete floor. Oh, she had to pull herself together because this was just embarrassing—had she time-warped into a teen experiencing her first stirrings of sexual desire?

‘As you can see we've just come through the players' area.' She started the tour spiel for safety's sake. She could talk on auto—and keep talking until she could escape to her office. ‘Now we're heading up to the corporate entertainment area. The boxes run the length of the stand.'

She started to get into the swing of it, telling him the details of the stadium, the history of the construction, the naming rights of the stands. But she was so on edge she gabbled it all too quickly. So she had to move on to player
stories. And then player stats. Anything so she could keep babbling nonstop all the way to the executive space.

She was increasingly conscious of his height and his pantherlike smooth movement at her side. He was watching her too closely, not taking in the behind-the-scenes view of the stadium and the boys' backgrounds at all. Her skin tingled, her nerves twanged.

‘Lena, I'm not interested in these stats,' he interrupted with arrogant dismissiveness when they got to the top floor and her office was a safe step away.

She stopped midway through her recital of some lock's weight issues. Slowly—trying to remain calm and collected—she looked directly at him. ‘Well, what did you want to know?'

‘Your stats. Every last detail.'

He took advantage of her stunned immobility and moved a step closer.

‘I'm not interested in men,' he said wickedly. ‘But
you
clearly are, so how about you memorise my details, as well? I'm Seth. I sell buildings. I'm six feet two, Sagittarius, single, suffering no communicable diseases.' He paused, the sparks in his eyes kindled. ‘Spellbound.'

And she was sweating. She, who'd been hit on by all those boys downstairs and never once blinked, was melting on the spot. Because this was different. This was…
him
and he took up all her vision.

‘You going to reciprocate?' Merciless, he kept her attention his captive, waiting for her to answer.

She couldn't say a thing, even though she
really
wanted to. But she'd breathlessly lost the snappy answer-back ability she'd had in the corridor.

‘Let me help you out,' he offered with wicked charity. ‘You're Lena. You're slim, sporty, stylish. Single.' He paused, apparently waiting for her to deny it.

She didn't, so he continued ticking off points.

‘Sexy. Spontaneous.' He paused again, considering. ‘A sensual sorceress.'

Okay,
that
was over-egging it. ‘While you're too smooth, too suave, too successful.'

He moved closer. ‘You're also suggestive, sassy, sarcastic. What else?'

A scatterbrain who was trying her damnedest not to squirm. ‘A little stunned.' Hopelessly honest.

‘Me too,' he purred smoothly. ‘But I also think we're both stirred.'

It was impossible not to smile. ‘You don't think you're coming on too strong?'

‘Too strong?' His volume lifted, so did his brows. ‘Honey, I'm reining in hard. I think you know what I'd rather be doing right now. I think you'd rather that, too. I'm just trying to dispense with the preliminaries as fast as possible.'

She didn't just feel the heat in her face, belly and chest, but her fingertips, her knees, her
toes
—she was blushing
everywhere.
The man was outrageous—and what was more, he pulled the hitherto undiscovered outrageous thread running deep within her.

‘You know you owe me a jacket.' He upped the intensity of his focus as if he knew damn well he had her already.

Her hormones sizzled into high gear and her tongue loosened completely. Her self-restraint unravelled with it. ‘Well, you owe me an apology.'

‘For kissing you?' His chin lifted defiantly. ‘Never going to be sorry for that.'

Her innards flamed; fortunately her mouth kept working. ‘No, for your insulting insinuations before that.'

‘Oh, those,' he said flippantly. ‘Sure, I'm sorry.'

Lena took in his devilish, gleaming blue eyes and his wolfish,
un
apologetic smile. So assured, so confident, so
sexy. Intent rippled from him and sent a wild surge of insanity pulsing through her. It carried her so far away she didn't stop to think. ‘No, that's not good enough,' she sassed back at him, tumbling beyond her boundaries. ‘You can do it properly over dinner.'

Seth froze to replay her words in his head. Had she just said what he thought? ‘Over dinner?'

‘I prefer a home-cooked meal.'

Seth clamped his teeth to stop his jaw dropping. The rest of his body was still shut down. Well,
almost
his entire body. Satisfaction slammed into every cell—the ‘untouchable' had just ordered him to take her to dinner. At home.

For a moment she looked as if she couldn't believe what she'd said, either, but she blinked and then held his gaze with unmistakable challenge in her pale green eyes. Her brows lifted—as if she was waiting for him to rise to it.

Hell, yes, he was rising. He struggled to get his slain brain to operate. It took at least three endless seconds before he got a useful phrase together. ‘When can you get out of here?'

The rosy pink across her cheekbones deepened. ‘You can pick me up from Exit Four at 6:00 p.m.'

‘Exit Four,' he repeated blankly. Then it clicked—of the stadium, of course. ‘Right.'

He was so close now they were nearly touching. Powerless to resist, he breathed in a good look at her body again. Her curves beneath the elegant dress beckoned, his hands itched to undo the buttons. He noticed the slight shake of her fingers before she curled them into fists and when he looked back to her face he saw how her eyes had widened.

It wasn't fear. He'd seen plenty of fear in his opponents. But in Lena he saw heat deepening, darkening her green irises. Primitive pleasure flooded as the tide of power turned towards him. He forgot why he was here. He forgot all about
the boys and the disaster that had killed their programme for next week. All that mattered was tightening the knot on this tryst.

‘Any other requests—are you vegetarian or anything?' he asked. Now he could feel her trembling all over, but she didn't try to step back. He liked that about her.

Her chin lifted, despite the hitch in her breathing, as well. ‘I like…very fresh—' she snuck a breath ‘—food.'

A wave of tension hit Seth, so extreme he was unable to do anything; even forcing a swallow hurt.

The woman wanted fresh.

He stared. There wasn't a single freckle on her smooth skin, something totally rare in this sun-struck country. It made him think of succulent berries and rich cream and he wanted to taste every inch of what she might offer. He wanted her to offer it all.

Her light green eyes lanced through him—suggestive and serious and summoning. She'd snatched the lead. When she'd started chattering nonstop about the team and not looking him in the eye he'd thought he was going to have to hunt hard and he'd started to, but all of a sudden she'd turned the tables and caught him neat in a heartbeat. The chase was always a fun part of a fling but he was happy to skip it this time. She'd named the time and place and he'd be there.

All the same, he held her gaze deliberately too long—testing. The moment stretched until her mouth tightened and she swallowed. A half second later she was the one to break eye contact, lowering her lashes. Yeah, she wasn't as filled with chutzpah as she made out. And, given her trembling and what those boys had said before about her always saying ‘no', he knew this wasn't her usual modus operandi, which made it even more intriguing. Yet, for whatever reason, she
clearly wanted to feel in charge of their dealings. So he'd let her think she was—for now.

Anticipation thickened the silence. He watched the slight but rapid rise and fall of her chest, the pulse madly beating at the base of her neck, the deepening red of her flush. He could almost read the secret, wanton wishes being written in the air. He was so close to pushing her back onto that desk and finishing what they'd begun outside that damn change room.