Playing for Hearts (47 page)

Her father sighed, sounding at a loss. “Do you want to come back home? I can send Pete there to run the shop.”

Dana's father would never understand her need for order. Too busy traveling with his fourth wife and Dana's three half-brothers, he'd even failed to find time to attend the wedding of his only daughter from his first marriage. She blew out her breath. “No! No, I'm sorry I bothered you … just go do whatever you're doing. I'll handle this myself. Bye, Daddy.”

She disconnected the call and turned her attention to the man standing in the room with her. “What?”

“Are you okay?” He stepped forward, studying her in what appeared to be a mix of fascination and trepidation.

She grabbed her bodice and hitched her dress, squaring her shoulders. He acted as if he'd never seen a woman whose whole world had crumbled into a gazillion little pieces only moments ago. “I'm fine.”

Dressed in a two-piece gray ski suit, with goggles sitting on the top of his head holding back shoulder-length black hair, he let his gaze take in the full length of her dress. His eyes, the color of mahogany, were heated and intense. A quiver traveled up her spine, not exactly unpleasant, but definitely unwanted. Right away, she pegged him for a player.

“If you're looking for the lobby, go out the door, turn right, and keep walking. You can't miss it. It's that huge room that's packed with everyone laughing and talking.” She tapped her foot, itching to shed the dress and throw away anything that reminded her of Jace.

“I came here to check on you.” He held his hands out to the sides of him. “I'm the guy you plowed into when you ran down the hallway. You looked like you were in trouble. I thought I'd see if I could help you with anything.”

“There's nothing you can do for me except go.” She kicked off her shoes and reached behind her, searching for the hidden zipper on the floor length, eggshell white gown she'd had specially made a year ago for this exact day. “You can leave and shut the door behind you.”

He tilted his head. “You're shaking. Are you sure you're all right?”

“Yes, dammit.” She grabbed her elbow and forced her other hand further down her back, trying to reach the tiny hook on her dress. “This is all Jace's fault.”

“Who?”

She clamped her lips together and muffled her scream. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, and anger bubbled to the surface. She would not cry.

“What can I do?”

“Nothing,” she snapped.

He tilted his head and his gaze dropped to her dress. “Babe … let me help. You're upset.”

She studied him for a few blinks, turned around, and presented him with her back. “Fine. Undo my zipper for me, but hurry. I feel like I'm going to be sick, and I hate throwing up.”

Her need to remove any remembrance of her planned marriage trumped any modesty she may have felt over standing in her underwear in front of a man she'd never met before. She wiggled her shoulders in impatience. “Please, hurry.”

“I'll have you out of here in no time.” His hand skimmed her back as he deftly undid her dress, including the eyehooks.

She shivered, blaming the chill on her emotions, and shimmied out of the wedding dress. The material pooled at her feet, and she was finally free from the suffocating dress that reminded her of everything she'd lost today. She glanced down at her body. The five-hundred dollar lingerie set that'd arrived yesterday from her stepmother was all wrong. There was nothing sacred or pure about her thoughts at the moment.

A low whistle reminded her she wasn't alone and the man wasn't leaving. She sighed in self-pity, because trouble seemed to keep jumping out and tripping her lately. She couldn't get a break.

Not in the mood to deal with another skier whose only goal was to screw every snow bunny that flooded the lodge this time of year, Dana tried to ignore him in hopes he'd go away. During the workweek, she had lots of practice pushing away the attention of men. Running the shop downstairs put her right in line to deal with every male in the lodge.

Except, as she paced the banquet room, she couldn't help glancing at the man who'd stayed to help her.

He was one of the sexiest skiers she'd seen visit the lodge. The long black hair hung haphazardly to his shoulders, the patch of whiskers under his lower lip accented full lips, and dark eyes surrounded with even darker lashes made him drool-worthy. Normally, his looks would've grabbed her attention.

If she didn't hate every single man on Earth at this moment.

She planted her hands on her bare hips. “You've had your fill. There's no more to see, so you can leave.”

He seemed to gaze at her ivory colored lingerie with too much interest. She half turned. If he said one thing about the garter belt, the pantyhose, or her lack of clothing, she'd stab him with her four-inch Jimmy Choos.

He took a step toward her and stopped. “You're crying.”

“I am not.” She swiped her cheeks, upset to find wetness. She never cried. Not since she was twelve and broke her arm at Mount Shasta during ski camp.

He reached into the back pocket of his ski pants and extracted a handkerchief. She sniffed. Crying over Jace was a waste of good tears. She should be putting this energy into a backup plan.

“May I?” the skier whispered, motioning with the cloth, then stepping forward when she refused to answer and dotting her cheeks dry.

She gazed into his eyes and was surprised to find only concern. “What kind of man carries a handkerchief?”

“One that never knows if he'll meet a beautiful woman who'll need one.” His gaze softened.

“Really?”

“No.” His mouth curved upward. His perfect white teeth practically sparkled. “I use one to clean the moisture out of my goggles when I ski.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Please tell me this doesn't have your sweat on it.”

“Don't worry. I haven't hit the slopes yet.”

“Oh.” She dropped her gaze. “Well, thank you. That wasn't necessary, but it was … nice.”

He hooked his thumb under her chin and lifted her gaze. “Will you be okay?”

The tenderness in his voice and the gentle touch undid her. She threw herself at him, burying her face in his neck, and sobbed.

She cried for her disappointing day, her pathetic wedding with no family and only the acquaintances from her father's business present to wish her well. Most of all she mourned for her failed life.

“Shh.” He rubbed her back. “It can't be all bad.”

Aware of the heat from the palm of his hand, Dana cried harder for her lost opportunity. She'd planned her life down to the most minuscule details in an effort to make sure she never ended up the way her parents had. Now it was over, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do next.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” The man leaned back and held her by the upper arms, not letting her go.

“It doesn't matter. There's nothing I can do about it, not that I want to have that jerk back in my life.” She blew her nose with the borrowed handkerchief. “Thanks for the shoulder and the h-handkerchief . ”

“My name's Juan.”

“Dana.” She inhaled a deep breath to compose herself. “I appreciate the help with the dress … and the hug. I'm okay now.”

Juan frowned. She moistened her lips and tilted her head. He seemed familiar. Probably one of the men she'd sold equipment to, or passed by on her way downstairs in the lodge on her way to work over the last couple of months.

“Listen, I don't want to leave you while you're upset.” He glanced around the room. “Why don't you put the dress back on, and I'll buy you a drink at the bar. It'll help you relax.”

“Ugh.” She walked over and sat atop a table pushed up against the wall. “I don't want to wear that
thing
ever again. I don't care if I have to walk up to my room wearing … “ she raised her arms, “nothing. I refuse to have anything to do with Jace Kendall. Do you know him? Because I wouldn't be against you taking a bat to his car or decking him.”

“No, I don't recognize the name.” Juan cleared his throat. “You should forget about him. It sounds like you're better off with him out of your life.”

“Yes, I am.” But she didn't believe it. Jace had been the answer to her prayers for the last two years. “I suppose I better go up to my room.”

“Dressed like that?” His brows rose.

“I'm not touching the wedding dress.” She pointed to the floor where the yards and yards of expensive lace lay discarded. “Besides, I'm hideous.”

“You're lovely, and I don't think walking out there into the lodge is wise considering the place is filled to capacity with men desperate to look at a beautiful woman.”

“I doubt that.” She shrugged. “Don't you think if men were willing to be with me, I would've gotten married today instead of being dumped at the front door?”

Juan winced. “He's a fool.”

“He didn't even wait until we stepped in front of the minister before he chickened out. He screwed up my whole life. If I don't get married today, I'll never be able to reach my next goal.”

He made a sympathetic noise.

“Not only that, Now I'm probably never going to experience what it's like to have a hon — ” She clamped her lips together, then mumbled, “Never mind.”

Juan shrugged off his coat, walked over, and sat beside her. She shook her head, unwilling to believe she was sitting here, when she should be slipping upstairs to enjoy her honeymoon. Jace could rot in hell for all she cared.

“Here. Cover up. You're shaking.” Juan slipped his coat over her shoulders. “I've already missed most of my slope time. You can borrow my coat.”

She pushed the sleeves of the coat to her wrists, noticing it was one of her daddy's products. “Thanks. I'm sure I won't be the only woman caught running up the back stairs in her panties. I run into at least one woman a week sneaking out of the rooms the Olympic team uses.”

“Is that so?” He unzipped his pants. “You can wear these too, I have spandex underneath. It'll be safer. No one looks at a man half undressed going up the back stairs.”

“I don't know why you're being so nice to me.” Dana sighed. “But I do appreciate it. I'm not the spoiled brat Jace said I was. He was just … ”

“An asshole?” He cussed, struggling with his zipper.

“Yes. Incredibly stupid and egotistical too.” She glanced down at the front of his pants. “What's wrong?”

“Damn thing's stuck.”

She pushed his hands aside. “It's the zipper. Happens all the time. Metal zippers rust over time, especially when subjected to the moist, cold weather the clothing is intended for … big mistake. That's why Reese Enterprise uses plastic or coated zippers in all outerwear clothing.”

“Huh?” His hands stilled and he glanced at her.

“It's not important.” She pushed his hands away. “Here, I'll help.”

“We need a pair of scissors.” He peered down at the front of him. “Or maybe you can rip it.”

She tugged, but it only drew the zipper tighter, making it catch more. Without anything to use, she leaned over and opened her mouth.

“Whoa … ” Juan sank his hands into the hair piled on the top of her head. “I'd like nothing more, but having your mouth on me when you're upset probably isn't the smartest decision.”

She paused with her opened mouth above the zipper and gazed up at him. “You don't want me to try and bite the string in half?”

He chuckled and patted her head before removing his hand and leaning back. “Be careful with those teeth, babe.”

She lowered her head, caught the edge of the material, and ground her teeth back and forth. It was harder than she'd imagined. She grunted and worked the string over to her eyetooth.

The zipper grew taut and she reached up and tugged at the material. She stilled with her hand against his crotch. There was a reason for the lack of space between the fabric and the man. A very big reason.

Warmth flooded her face. Her skin tingled. The bulge underneath the pants fascinated, yet shocked her. A heady sensation, considering she could almost feel the heat radiating off him on her cheek.

The door opened and a flash went off in the room. She frowned at the same time the string gave way and she jerked away from Juan, spitting the remains of the thread off her lip. She stood and glanced behind her.

A robust, angry man in a coat with the USA Olympics emblem scrolled across the chest stood inside the doorway. Two photographers snapped pictures behind him, blinding Dana from inspecting them any further. Juan jumped off the table and stepped in front of her, blocking her from view.

“Oh, shit,” Juan muttered.

“What are they doing?” she whispered, zipping Juan's coat to her neck. She wasn't sure if that helped, because on the bottom half, she still wore her thong and garter. “Who are they?”

Juan straightened, keeping his hand on her hip to keep her hidden behind his body. “It's not what it looked like, Coach Lindhurst.”

“It was exactly what it looked like, and it'll be on the front cover of
Sports Illustrated
in the morning thanks to your carelessness. You were supposed to meet with the press a half-hour ago. Looks like that won't be necessary. They've got their pictures, and I imagine more than an article or two to fill the damn magazine, thanks to you and your entourage.” Coach Lindhurst growled. “I've warned you. Your sponsor warned you. One more scandal and your benefactors would pull their money. I'm going to have to put you on reserve, dammit. You've really screwed up this time, Santiago.”

Juan stepped forward, stopped, and glanced back at Dana. He gave her a hint of a smile before turning around. “Yes, Coach. If I could request another meeting, I can explain what happened here. It's a simple misunderstanding. One that shows that the lady behind me is innocent, and shouldn't be involved with any gossip that comes my way. She's had a bad day, sir.”