Playing for Hearts (30 page)

Diana yawned. A smile landed on his lips. Her guard had slipped during the meal, and she hadn't even noticed they'd conversed without any of her normal snappy replies.

“It's been a long day with traveling and springing everything on you. Let's get you home.” He gently nudged her, moving her to her feet.

What he really wanted to do was wrap his arm around her, let her lean her head against him, and take her straight to his bedroom. Without her defenses up, she came across soft and warm, much more accepting of being in his company. He quickly paid their tab, phoned the security team, and met them in front of the restaurant doors with the Hummer ready to go.

Diana slid across the back seat and leaned her head against the window. He sat and stretched out his legs. Now that they were making progress and getting along, he was glad for the weekend ahead. All he wanted to do was hide out at the house, and see how many more chips he could make in her armor.

He laid his arm along the back of the seat. His hand touched the curls popping out from the back of her stocking cap. He grinned in the darkness of the car. She'd forgotten all about wearing the hat while in the restaurant. It'd almost be a disappointment when her luggage arrived. He'd like to keep her wearing his clothes.

He closed his eyes. A feisty Diana wearing one of his jerseys with nothing else came to mind. Her bare legs peeking out from under the material as she curled up at the end of his couch gave him something to look forward to in the next couple of days. He'd finally be able to find out if she painted her toes to match the soft pink color on her fingernails.

A weight pressed against his leg. He pried one eye open and peeked. Diana had lain down across the seat. The top of her head rested against his thigh. He lifted his hand, but caught himself before caressing her head. She needed her sleep. He'd thrown a lot at her today.

No sooner had he got used to feeling her beside him than Tanner drove into the garage. Dominic looked down at Diana, hating to wake her.

“Will you need us over the weekend?” Tanner asked.

“No. I'll call if we do.”

“Very good, sir.” Tanner hesitated. “Earlier we received a call of a delivery, and I had one of our guys take it into your house.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

The doors closing never fazed Diana. She only squirmed against him and curled her legs tighter to her chest. He tapped her shoulder and waited.

Nothing. She continued sleeping without a care in the world.

Feeling as if he was taking his life in his hands, he opened the side door and did what any other man would do. He picked her up and cradled her in his arms. She sighed and snuggled her head underneath his chin.

Sue him for taking the time to dip his head and inhale the sweet feminine scent that'd teased him all day. He shifted her closer and carried her through the garage.

At the door into the house, he fumbled with the knob, but succeeded in getting them both inside. He strode through the kitchen, down the hallway, and into her bedroom. Without turning on the light, he walked to the bed.

His toe caught on something heavy. When he went to right himself, he stepped on something large. His upper body careened forward, while his feet scrambled for solid ground and met air. Refusing to let Diana go down with him, he heaved her toward the bed before falling on the floor.

Her scream pierced his ears and cut off instantly when she bounced on the mattress. He struggled to his knees, cussing under his breath. It took him time to climb out of the maze of items littering the floor, but he eventually reached the wall where he flipped the light on.

Six suitcases in varying sizes lay scattered in front of the bed. His gaze traveled to Diana, and seeing her safe and unhurt, he laughed.

Sprawled on the bed, her hat knocked lopsided with her curls jumping in all different directions was a sight to see. But it was the indignant pose of a princess getting knocked off her pedestal that tickled him.

“You threw me.” She reached to pull off her hat, but the sleeves of the sweatshirt had unrolled making the task impossible.

“I tripped.” He bent over laughing, bracing his hands on his knees.

She huffed and scooted off the bed. “Honestly, the women that go ape shit over you should live with you. Twelve hours of constant Dominic would show them the error of their thinking.”

“It was either drop you or throw you.” He straightened. “You're lucky I was able to toss you as far as the bed.”

Her mouth formed a circle and she fisted her hands on her hips, the ends of the sweatshirt dangling down the sides of her legs. “Jeez, what is it with you always calling me fat?”

He snuffed his amusement, rubbing his hands over his face. “I'm not.”

“Sounded like it.”

“You're perfect. I'll leave you alone to go through your luggage.” He turned around, and because he loved seeing her temper, he couldn't pass along another message. “Sweet dreams … sweetcheeks.”

He cleared the doorway as one of the small suitcases smashed into the wall across the hallway from her room. He laughed until his stomach hurt. A door slammed as he walked into his bedroom. He headed straight to the bathroom. A pleasurable ache of lust settled over him. A cold shower was the last thing he wanted when there was a warm sexy woman staying down the hallway.

Used to waking at five in the morning to go to work, Diana rose early and made her way out of the bedroom after her shower. She glanced at Dominic's door and found it closed. The house was quiet, so she headed to the kitchen. Every cell in her body hoped athletes were allowed to drink coffee and she'd find some in his cupboards.

She sagged in relief to find an assortment of different coffees plus sweeteners above the coffee maker in the cabinet. After getting everything set up, all she had to do was wait for the first cup to start her morning.

With an empty cup cradled in both hands, she sat at the table gaining her bearings while the coffee maker ran. Yesterday's events rushed to the forefront. What was she doing?

She'd skipped town with Dominic with no word to her folks, or a way for Mr. Dogger to get ahold of her. She dropped her chin and frowned at the mug. Women her age went on vacation all the time, and she'd gone away to college for four years and lived independently from her parents. She was twenty-four years old, more than old enough to go off with a man alone and enjoy herself.

Not that working for Dominic was a pleasure vacation. It was a game with a prize at the end. A very big prize that'd change her life.

Except, she couldn't figure out who was playing who. A half a million dollars for hanging around Dominic was a joke. Either Dominic was plain stupid or she had lost her mind. Taking his money for doing practically nothing … well, it almost made her a whore.

Not that she was going to sleep with him.

She dug her cell out of the back pocket of her jeans, and hit the button for her parents' house. The answering machine clicked on, and she left a brief message letting them know she'd be back in two weeks. No reason to upset them or discuss what she was doing, she kept her explanation short with enough details in case she became involved in a car accident and lost her memory. No one needed to know she'd pimped herself to a big, badass Russian named Dominic.

She inhaled deeply. He was a hot mess.

The few times yesterday when he'd appeared almost normal, she'd found herself excited to spend time with him. Okay, “excited” was too enthusiastic of a way to describe the flutters in her belly and the urge to learn more about him. Maybe “unburdened by the job she'd agreed on performing” fit the occasion better. She could even admit to enjoying their dinner together, and watching a team of buff hockey players glide around in front of her turned out to be more interesting than it'd originally sounded.

The coffee maker quieted. She stood and filled her cup before moving over to the fridge, sniffing the milk to make sure it was still good, and adding a few drops to her coffee.

“Morning.” Dominic's rough voice came from behind her.

She swallowed too fast, burnt her tongue, and whirled around. “Good mor — ”

Male, hard, muscled body filled the entrance to the kitchen. Boxers hung low on his hips. Blond hair mussed and a night's worth of whiskers roughened the otherwise flawless face — except for the light white scar near his brow that only added to his sexiness. She stepped around the table. Unable to take her gaze off the naked expanse of his body, but knowing she had to put distance between his body and hers, she bumped into the counter in her retreat.

“You're an early riser. I thought I'd beat you out of bed and have coffee made.” He strode across the kitchen. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded, and realizing he wasn't looking at her said, “Yeah.”

The muscles along his back bulged, twitched, and otherwise hypnotized her. She stared. He reached up for a mug, and her eyes were drawn to the back of his shorts, straining against his ass.

She could die happy. Never had she seen a man with enough muscle in his derriere. She swallowed another sip, grimacing as the liquid flowed over the tip of her tongue stinging the spot she'd burnt.

“I'll call for breakfast. What do you feel like eating?” He glanced over his shoulder at her.

She jerked her gaze away. “Don't you have bread?”

“No.”

“Cereal?”

He shook his head. “I don't cook.”

“You order all your meals?” She set the cup on the table. “That's a waste of money and unhealthy. I can't believe a professional athlete could live on food loaded with preservatives and cooked in fat.”

He slapped his hand on his chest and scratched his pectoral muscle. “I have to eat to survive. It's a necessity.”

“Well, we're not eating out every meal while I'm here. You might be able to handle the extra calories, but I'll bloat up like a balloon. I'll cook.” She stood, needing to escape. “I'll go grocery shopping.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. Why not?” she said.

“I'm not dressed.”

“You really shouldn't be traipsing around in your boxers either, but that has nothing to do with me going shopping alone.” She forced herself to look him in the eyes.

“It's my house.” He leaned his hip on the counter and crossed his arms, making his muscles pop. “Maybe you should evaluate why seeing me in my boxers seems to make you … uncomfortable.”

“It doesn't.”

“Are you sure?” His chest rose and fell. “Your cheeks are flushed and you seem to have difficulty breathing deeply.”

She pushed out a laugh. “It's called underwear for a reason. You don't see me standing here in my bra and panties.”

His gaze dropped and he tilted his head. “I don't believe you're wearing panties.”

“I am!” She crossed her ankles. “A thong. Not that it's any business of yours.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “What color?”

“Shuttup.”

“It's black, isn't it?”

“Red.” She shot him a glare. “That was unfair.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “I may now stop breathing.”

“While you die, I'm going to buy some food with your money. What a deal.” She walked past him and set her cup in the sink.

“The closest market is two miles away. Take my car.” He opened a drawer, removed a set of keys, and handed them to her.

She hesitated. “I can't drive the Hummer. It's too big.”

“These are to my other car. It won't be too big, trust me.” He grinned.

Five minutes later, she slipped the black Porsche out of the garage. Alone, she laughed as she slipped the gear into third and sailed through the gated community in the early morning hour. If she had a top of the line piece of car candy, she wouldn't rely on a security team to drive her around. She'd be speeding around the back streets with the windows down and the radio cranked, showing her sexy and loving every minute of it.

In the parking lot of the store, two men stopped and stared after her. She waved. Oh yeah, she could get used to this. A Porsche beat her old dependable Chevrolet she'd driven since she got her license at sixteen years old and bought for five hundred dollars. The old beater saw her through college and a few fender benders, and still worked perfectly fine.

She flounced into the store with Dominic's wallet in hand, filling the shopping cart with everything she'd need for a week. On a whim, she grabbed a container of vanilla ice cream and four Butterfingers before calling it quits.

When she arrived back at the condominium, she took an extra circle around the block before pulling into the garage and shutting off the engine. Dominic came out and helped her carry the groceries into the kitchen.

Dressed in a black T-shirt and faded pair of Levis that hugged his ass, he stepped into the garage. She followed him inside, making sure she looked him over while his back was to her because if he caught her sneaking a glimpse, he'd turn it into something sexual. It wasn't. She was simply learning more about the man she was going to live with for the next two weeks.

“Is there any kind of food you can't stand?” She left the eggs out on the counter. “Speak now, or be poisoned later.”

He seemed to read the side of a box of cereal. “No. I guess not.”

She glanced at him again. “Is something wrong with the cereal?”

“Did you know they put riddles on the back of the box?” he said.

“Welcome to my world, Dom.” She opened cabinets until she found a skillet. “We're in luck. You have kitchen supplies.”

“The condo came furnished when I bought it. If you need something, let me know. I'll have Tanner go out and buy whatever it is and bring it to the house,” he said.

“That's okay. If I need something I'll go get it.” She cracked eggs into a bowl.

He approached the stove, watching her. “You like my car.”