She shook her head. “No, what we have is a flirtationship.”
“A what?” He laughed.
She shifted and moved away from him, sucking in a deep breath now that he wasn't touching her. Feeling braver, she faced him. “A flirtationship. We both enjoy flirting. We're good at flirting. That's all we can ever have.”
He made that soft snorting sound he made when whatever she said entertained him, and skied ahead of her. She had no choice but to follow him.
At the lift, she let him hold her again, and she rode the chair up the side of the mountain on his lap without any refusals. To keep him off the topic of what was going on between them, she laid her head back on his shoulder and gazed up into the sky.
For the first time, she understood how he'd earned his name. Because she had a feeling Amante Español smooth-talked his way through life, and she wondered if she'd survive the month with her heart in one piece.
After dropping Dana off in the suite to take a shower after their day on the slope, Juan excused himself to take care of business. He patted his back pocket. Ever since Colton Reese paid him for taking Dana off his hands, the wedding gift he'd received had bothered the hell out of him.
Dana's accepting attitude over the check pissed him off. A woman, any woman, shouldn't spend the rest of her life questioning if a man married her for anything but love. Their temporary marriage aside, he'd never want his wife, pretend or not, to believe she wasn't first in his life.
Downstairs in the main lobby of Timber Lodge, Steve Baker, his manager for the last three years, stood in front of the desk. At his request, he'd asked Steve to fly to the lodge yesterday to meet with him.
Steve, a tall, slim, serious man who wore glasses and a blazer, held out his hand. “Juan.”
“Glad you could come at such short notice.” He shook.
“You pay me.” Steve smiled, but quickly grew serious. “I hope you called me here because you have good news. I'd hate to see all your work turn out for nothing.”
“My career is fine.” Juan removed the envelope from his pocket and passed it to Steve. “There's a check in there. I need you to set up a new account. The necessary paperwork is included in the packet. I only want the money available to Dana Reese ⦠her information is included too. Make sure she's the only one allowed to withdraw the money. I don't want my name anywhere on the account.”
“Juan,” Steve muttered. “Want to tell me what's going on?”
“No.”
Steve ran his hand over his jaw. “As your manager â ”
“You'll do what I ask of you,” he said.
Juan refused to back down. He wanted his business kept private. One slip from anyone, and Dana would be hurt. Their marriage would be questioned, and Dana's integrity would be worth nothing.
Despite the reason for his marriage, he wouldn't allow anyone to hurt Dana. She'd stepped forward to help him and for that alone, he'd do anything to protect her.
“Okay. I'll get right on this the moment I return to the office.” Steve opened his briefcase, and slipped the envelope inside. “Can you give me an idea of how much I'm carrying, in case I get stuck at the airport with people asking questions?”
“Two mill,” Juan muttered. “It'd be better to wire it to an escrow before you board the plane.”
Steve whistled. “She must be something.”
He balled his fist. “She's my wife, and I won't have you speculating about her.”
“No harm.” Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “I'll see you in two weeks, and maybe I'll have the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Santiago.”
Juan dipped his chin. “Later.”
He watched Steve walk out the front entrance. A light snow fell outside, and Juan counted down the days until Germany. Once he finished competing this year, he needed to straighten out his life. Not only did he need to finish the business with Dana, but he was also tired of traveling, the constant pressure of being under the public's radar, answering to other people, and overthinking every move of his career.
A few weeks here, a month somewhere else, always chasing the snow. He loved skiing, and couldn't imagine hanging up his skis, but there had to be more in life than chasing the next medal. He turned away from the desk.
His unsettled feelings had only gotten stronger the last four years, but Dana's appearance in his life had him thinking about what he lacked. He loved his life. Before meeting her, he had no idea that some people used a life schedule or planned their future beyond the next four years.
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled the phone out, smiled at the screen, and then answered. “Hola, Satchel. Let me guess ⦠you're ready to sell me the Camaro?”
“Fuck, no.” Gary, NFL linebacker for the Seattle Seahawks and one of his best friends, told Juan exactly where he could go if he even thought of touching his car.
Juan laughed. “It's nice to hear from you too.”
“What's this I hear about you tying the knot?” Gary asked.
“Yeah.” He kicked the heel of his sneaker against the wooden floor. “I got in a little trouble. She â Dana helped me out to get me back on the roster and it came with a marriage certificate.”
“Is she for reals, man?”
“Nah.” He planted his foot. “There are too many women in the world for me to settle down with one. Once the Olympics are over, we'll quietly get an annulment, and go our separate ways. No harm.”
He winced at the lie. When he got married for the right reason, it'd be forever. He'd start off on the right foot, and not to a woman who he barely knew.
“Figured something was up when I read the newspaper this morning. I called Grayson, and he knew nothing about the news. Figured you'd have a reason for doing something that crazy right before competing.” Gary cleared his throat. “Hey, the reason I'm calling is to see if you'll still be at the lodge on the twenty-eighth? I'm flying into Boulder, and thought I'd waste a day and see you before you leave for the games.”
“Yeah, sounds good.” He looked up as a woman passed him, giving him an interested look. He smiled politely as he talked with Gary. “Want me to reserve a room for you?”
“No, I fly out late the same night. On my way to a game,” Gary said.
The woman sat down in the cushioned chairs in front of the window. She smiled and crooked her finger at him. He raised his brow and pointed to his chest. She nodded. He held up a finger to signal he'd be there in a few minutes.
“Okay, so give me a call the closer the day comes to remind me.” Juan headed across the lounge. “I'm glad you called.”
Gary roared with laughter. “Go be with your wife, Santiago.”
He stopped at the reminder that he was married. “Later.”
What the hell was he doing? He glanced at the woman, pivoted, and walked away.
A hand slipped behind his elbow. “Whoa there, sexy. Don't run away too fast.”
The woman slid up against him. She was attractive â tall for a woman and, if he had to guess, artificially enhanced. From the hair extensions to her breasts, she yelled wealth and plastic surgeons. A typical snow bunny.
“I've heard it's customary for women to buy the first drink around here.” She trailed her finger down his chest. “You look like a man who could use a bourbon on the rocks.”
Her flowery scent overpowered him. He extracted his arm from her grasp, but she quickly tucked her fingers into his back pocket. Instead of amusement over her attempt to seduce him, he found her fake and pathetic.
“I wish I could, sweetheart.” Juan pulled her hand out of his jeans and held it between both of his. “But I have a â ”
“Wife.” Dana's voice came from behind him.
He spun around and smiled. “Yes! My wife. How â ” he kissed her forehead, “are you, babe? All warmed up?”
Dana refused to look at him and instead stared the other woman down. “Yes. I'm hot. So hot, honey, that I'm wondering what you're doing with â ” she pointed, “her.”
“Wife?” The woman backed away. “I thought you were single.”
“Obviously.” Dana laughed, and the response warned him he was in deep shit.
Okay, he'd noticed the woman, checked her out, but he wasn't going to do anything. He had to work his fans, keep them psyched, and motivate the youth ⦠although the woman was over the age of twenty-one, right? He peered closer and exhaled in relief. She was an adult.
Socializing was what he got paid to do, and harmless flirting was part of the job.
He looped his arm around Dana's shoulders and swayed her away from the front of the lodge. For his health, he ignored the other woman. He wasn't stupid. His wife was pissed.
“I thought you were staying in the room and waiting for me.” He pushed the elevator button.
“You thought wrong.” Dana crossed her arms.
“Babe ⦠” he said. “You're my wife. That woman was just another fan.”
Dana's lips pursed and she shot him a death glare before going back and staring at the elevator doors. He puffed out his cheeks and exhaled slowly. Now probably wouldn't be the right time to let her know her temper amused him, and that he instantly wanted to trap all those emotions in bed and have sweat-induced sex with her.
They rode the elevator up to the third floor together. He let her stew in her anger all the way upstairs. Out in the hall, she burst ahead of him and opened their suite door first. He stepped in and shut the door.
Candles lit the table and there were two mugs sitting on the placemat. Dana rushed over and blew the candle out. His chest tightened. She'd been in the shower when he'd left.
Dana stomped to her room and shut the door. He walked to the table, picked up a mug, and brought it to his nose. He inhaled the chocolate aroma, sipped, and groaned as the bite of alcohol burned his chest.
Shit.
He'd screwed up.
All day, he'd flirted and played on the slopes with Dana. Hell, he'd walked her back to the suite with the biggest hard-on and the desire to climb into the shower with her to warm up too, but he'd backed off. He hadn't wanted to freak her out when he was enjoying her company. Besides, if they had sex, he could kiss an annulment goodbye.
A Santiago never divorced.
He hung his head. This was all his fault.
A flirtationship. That's what she called their relationship, and she was right. He'd led her on, teased her, and left her alone in the hotel room. She'd expected more, planned for more, and he'd disappointed her. And to make her disappointment in him even worse, she'd caught another woman making the moves on him.
“Dana?” He walked to her bedroom and knocked. “Babe? Come out for a second.”
Silence answered him. He turned around and leaned his back against the door. What a mess.
He couldn't tell her that he'd ran downstairs to meet his manager to make sure her future wasn't hampered by their quick, and rather stupid, decision to get married. She'd ask questions, and then he'd have to tell her what he did with the money from her dad. Regardless of what she thought of him, he wasn't going to be paid to stay married to Dana.
Call him stupid, but he wanted Dana to walk away in a month with respect for him.
Dana paced the bedroom. She slapped her forehead.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
The whole time she'd been in the shower after coming in from outside, all she could think about was Juan. How he'd teased her into enjoying their time on the slope, how they'd held hands, kissed, and touched while she pretended that what they were doing was safe. How at the end of the day, it was the best date she'd ever gone on.
A flirtationship.
Who was she fooling?
By the time she used the excuse of being cold and needing a warm shower, Juan had worked her up into a tizzy. She wanted him to keep touching her, to never stop. By the time she'd toweled off and dried her hair, she'd decided to give Juan some attention back.
He'd gone out of his way to make her day special, so she was going to repay him. Hot toddies in front of the gas fireplace, a little candlelight, and if things advanced to the bedroom, they both deserved to end their frustrations.
So, she'd planned a night of seduction. Until that bitch downstairs stole her man, and she realized she was making a fool of herself. She swept her pillow off the bed and threw it across the room. God, how stupid could she be? She was married to Amante Español. Every single woman from the age of twelve to ninety wanted a piece of him.
“Dana? Please?” Juan called through the door again.
She quietly walked toward the door and leaned against it. He sounded upset, and yet she was the one who was getting screwed over. She sat down on the floor and leaned her back against the wood.
If staying married for a month was going to make her this miserable, he deserved to suffer along with her.
“I guess if you're not going to open the door, you can listen to me then,” he said. “It's true that I earned my nickname. I won't lie. There've been women in my life since I was twelve-years old. I've dated. I've had one-night stands, and left a lot of broken hearts. I'm not proud of what I've done.” He paused. “Damn, this isn't coming out right. I'm trying to explain what happened tonight downstairs with that other woman.”
She closed her eyes and swallowed. Each confession pierced her heart. She'd never expected him to be perfect, but the thought of him being a player disappointed her. It wasn't the fact that he had more experience to brag about than she did, but that she would never have the part of him that he shared with others. She'd always be his faux wife in their stupid pretend marriage.
She'd had an intimate relationship with Jace. Her sexual experience came from one man who scheduled sex and took a shower afterward as if it was another part of his job. She'd never lost control over her feelings before. Not the way other women did around a famous athlete ⦠or how she did around Juan.