Playing for Hearts (55 page)

“Part of my job as a member of the Olympic ski team is to appeal to the people, to build a fan base, and because of that, I've gone too far. I know I have and I'll shoulder the blame.” He thumped on the door. “Babe … even if you weren't here, and we weren't married, nothing would've happened between me and that woman downstairs. I don't have sex with women I don't know during the season. I can't afford the bad press that would come my way. The rumors and speculations are just that … false. The troubles I get in are rarely what they appear.”

“Right,”
she mouthed.

“It's true,” he said. “And even if I wanted to break my own rule, I couldn't make myself be with her, because … all I could think about was she didn't smell like you. You always smell like jasmine. I know that's the scent, because I smelled your shampoo and read the ingredients this morning.”

She covered her mouth, afraid to move.
Oh my God. He smelled my shampoo.

“There's more about you that I like. When you let go of me after holding my hand, you always hook your finger on mine as if you don't want to lose my touch, like you're trying to hold on to the very last second. Do you know what that does to me?”

She stood and put her hand on the door handle.

“I don't know what we're doing. When we decided to get married, I thought … I thought it'd be easier than trying to talk my way back on the roster. We started out with a partnership, and today it grew into a flirtationship.”

Warmth filled her, and she smiled. She was right, and he'd sensed what they had growing too.

“But you have to know I'm finding it hard to stay in the same suite as you and not touch you. I want to find out what you would do when I kiss your neck and if you'd make any noise when I sink my hands into your hair and lay you down on the bed.” He cussed, and a
thunk
landed against the door. “I saw what you did out here with the drinks and the candle.”

She took her hand off the handle and stepped away from the door. She'd jumped to conclusions earlier, and made a mistake. He'd already explained how he didn't have sex with women he didn't know during the season.

“So, that's it. That's what I wanted you to know. I liked what you tried to do here with the drinks, and … ” He cleared your throat. “You know how I feel, but I don't know what you're thinking. I don't know what you want from me.”

Her heart raced. He liked her.

He might have faked his attraction to her when they first got married, but today he'd shown her how much he enjoyed spending the day with her. She couldn't let him go to bed thinking she didn't like him too. She opened the door.

“Juan, wait,” she said.

He turned around. She swallowed hard. Face to face, she hesitated. What if she'd misunderstood?

Juan held out his hand. She stepped forward and hooked his finger with hers, and his eyes softened. At that second, she knew she'd lost her heart to Juan Santiago.

Inside, she vibrated. Outside, she attempted to smile and failed. Adrenaline overpowered her ability to speak, and her thoughts misfired from one worry to one hope until she lost the capacity to think. Juan wanted her.

Her husband admitted he found her attractive, and he'd smelled her shampoo.

“Are you okay?” He hooked her neck with his free hand, pulling her close, and continued holding on to her finger.

She nodded. “I know this wasn't supposed to happen.”

“It was bound to happen,” he said. “I'm trying hard to be the man who promised you an annulment after I finished the games in Germany. I can't fuck it up by sleeping with you. You deserve to move on with your life, and I only want to be married once, for the right reasons. I've screwed up this time enough for both of us by making our arrangement more stressful.”

She fell forward, planting her forehead against his chest. “This
is
messed up.”

“I'll agree with that.” He laughed softly.

Confident that she could survive the rest of her marriage without going any further with Juan, even knowing they wanted each other, she rose to her tiptoes and kissed him lightly. “Thank you.”

“Let's go warm up the drinks, and sit in the living room … far, far away from your bedroom.” Juan led her into the other room.

Unsure of where they went from here, she followed. When he put a mug in her hand after heating it in the microwave, she used all her concentration on blowing across the top, cooling it to taste. When she sat on the couch, Juan sat beside her in the middle instead of on the other end.

She gulped the hot toddy and coughed. Juan lifted her cup to her lips, and she took a smaller sip as her chest and head warmed to an impossibly high degree.

“Have I told you I'm not the best cook?” She eyed the drink. “Apparently, I don't know the right measurement of alcohol either.”

Juan drank, breathing through his sip. “It's fine.”

She glanced at him. “Can you drink while in season?”

“It's one drink — granted, there's enough whiskey in here for four drinks — but no, drinking isn't against the rules this far out. I don't touch the stuff a week before competitions.” Juan put his arm on the back of the couch behind her. “I think we both deserve to celebrate … we're married.”

“Yeah, about that.” She took another sip and sighed. “Sorry about earlier. I assumed the worst about you when I saw that skank hanging on you, and I know I don't have any claims a real wife would have on you.”

“Don't apologize.” He kissed her forehead. “If I had a real wife, I'd want her to fight for me.”

She studied him. “You're not just saying that because the thought of two women rolling around on the floor in front of you jingles your balls, are you?”

“Jingles? No … ” He grinned, letting that image settle. “Well, maybe a little. But I'd want my wife to make a statement. I'm hers, and she's mine.”

She sipped her drink, which had cooled off enough not to burn her tongue. Juan communicated his desires more than Jace ever had. With her ex-fiancée, she'd had no idea what he was thinking most of the time they were together. Of course, she'd never pressed him, because she had no aspiration to know more about him, other than the date of when they'd get married.

“Can I tell you something without you laughing?” she asked.

Juan stretched out his legs, lifted her knee, and hooked her leg over his, keeping his hand on her thigh. “Sure.”

“I never loved Jace. I don't think I even liked him.” She stared down into her empty cup. “My father thinks he's the greatest salesman and can do no wrong.”

Juan removed her mug and set it on the floor. “Why were you going to marry him?”

She shrugged. “It was time.”

“Ah, the life schedule … ”

“Yeah.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “What if I fail? It's not easy to have a social life, work, and make everything sync together for two people.”

Warmed from the drink, she yawned. She didn't expect him to understand why a schedule was important to her when she didn't comprehend why she set herself up for disappointment every single time.

“You won't.” Juan picked her up and situated her on his lap. “Comfortable?”

She nodded.

Facing him, one leg on each side of him, she looped her arms around his neck. It was the closest she'd ever been to him, and she looked into his incredibly dark and intense eyes.

He was going to kiss her. That much she knew. She might not know what would happen tomorrow or when they finished their deception, but he was going to kiss her, and she'd let him.

His hands went from her hips to her ass. In one tug, she was plastered against him. His heat against hers. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Holy shit he was hot.

Scorching.

Burning.

“I need to see you,” he whispered.

Juan lifted the edge of her shirt, his eyes never leaving her face. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and let him take the material higher. She slipped her arms out of the sleeves and then her shirt was off. Juan's gaze lowered to her chest.

Pleasure flashed in his eyes. She squirmed. Hunger hit her fast and low.

“Please tell me you're going to kiss me,” she whispered.

He stroked the top of her thighs. “I made you a promise when we first met. Do you remember what I said?”

She nodded. “You told me there'd be more kissing. Lots of kissing.”

“Whenever and however you want.” He placed his hands on her bare midriff and sucked in air. “You want a kiss? Take it, babe. It's yours to have anytime.”

As if his permission meant everything in the world, she captured his lips. Soft at first, then more aggressive, she thoroughly explored his lips. Nipping, sucking, licking, tasting.

She grew dizzy, whether from the toddy or the breath Juan stole from her, she clung to him with a desperation she couldn't explain. His hand brushed her bare back. She shivered, and suddenly her bra bunched in front of her from him undoing the hook. She wiggled her arms out of the straps and dove back into the kiss.

Juan took her with him when he stretched out on the couch, tucking her along the length of him. He kissed her neck. She sank her fingers into his hair and arched her back. Heat covered her wherever his mouth landed. Her neck, her collarbone, her ribs, he paid attention to every spot except where she wanted his mouth.

“Beautiful, babe,” he murmured against her breast as he took her nipple in his mouth.

She moaned from the pleasure. As if his tongue had a direct line to her core, she writhed against him. Her leg curled around his hip, seeking more.

Unable to keep her hands off him, she reached between them and cupped his hardness. His head came up and the heat from his gaze thrilled her. She wanted their clothes off, to feel his skin on hers.

“Dana … ” He groaned, catching her wrist and dragging her hand up between their chests. “We need to slow down.”

She shook her head. “No. It's okay.”

He laid his forehead on hers. Desperate to continue, she placed her hand on his neck. His pulse beat against her palm. They were hot and heavy for each other. She'd felt the proof of how much he wanted her. Was he as frustrated as she was over their agreement not to have sex?

Before she could question him, he flipped her over him and settled her between him and the couch. Her back pressed against his front, and his legs spooned the back of hers. From this position, she couldn't read his face.

But his hardness rested between them. A reminder that they weren't finished.

“Stop overthinking what happened,” he mumbled into her hair.

She raked her teeth over her lip. “I want to have sex with you,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said on an exhale. “If things were different, I'd be buried deep inside of you right now. I'd give anything to have your legs wrapped around me, screaming my name, but one of us has to take responsibility for what we're doing.”

She moved to turn over, but his arm tightened around her, and he said, “Go to sleep, babe. Let me have this, okay?”

She refused to answer him. Stunned at the abrupt way he ended the night, she closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry. Frustrated, hurt, and unsettled, she had no idea how to take them back to a few minutes ago when she'd wanted him to make love to her.

Juan jogged into the parking lot of Timber Lodge as daylight disappeared. Unable to face another day of hanging out with Dana in the suite after practice, he'd gone jogging after the snowplow made its final sweep down the country road. His muscles, tired from the workout earlier and his midday practice, trembled and he slowed to a walk.

The last week, living with Dana, touching her, wanting her more than he cared about the marriage paper he'd signed, he'd struggled to keep from having sex with her. She wasn't making it easy on him either.

She'd started sleeping with her bedroom door open and walking around in one of his sweatshirts in the evenings. She even slept in the damn thing. He knew that, because he'd noticed she always kicked her covers off when she slept, and when he re-covered her, the hem of the shirt bunched around her waist as if she squirmed herself to sleep.

That was how he'd found out she wore the cutest panties in all shades of wild colors and sexy styles under his oversized hoodie.

Every evening, no matter how many times he told himself they'd only cuddle and share a few kisses, they ended up doing more and more, until the only thing that remained between them was the jeans he wore.

Knowing what she wore under her clothes kept him awake each night.

He walked through the front doors of the lodge and stopped.

Dana stood with a group of six men, clipboard in hand, dressed in a pair of ski tights, fur lined jacket, and bunny boots. His chest tightened with pride. He wanted to rush over and claim his wife, but she was working. He remembered her saying she had a meeting with buyers after dinner and would be coming up to the room late.

“Our reverse cambers are top notch. I'd advise you to package them with the Telemark bindings, because they're non-releasing and provide a snug toe fit. Moderate skiers will have much less slippage. Save the release bindings for the beginners.” Dana reached behind her on the desk and picked up a show model of the set. “Of course, Reese guarantees the combo for two years. You'll quickly make your money back, provided your rental history is still accurate.”

A tall man to Dana's left nodded. “You've convinced me. We'll take one unit.”

Dana raised her perfectly arched brows. “With the improvements made on the runs at Rainier, I'd say you're in for a boost of tourists wanting to experience the unique experience and modernization of your investment. I'd encourage you to order two units. If not now, then in the near future. Davis Enterprise sealed a partnership for apparel with Rainier last month. You'll want to take advantage of drawing in a higher clientele. And, between you and me, I sold the same package to Shasta Lodge in the spring. The results this winter have exceeded their expectations, and they're waiting on backorders.”