Hot Property (Hot Zone 4)

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; “Yes.”

“Care to tell me where you get off manipulating me?”

“I’m paid to make sure you’re ready. Both Yank and Micki agreed we had no choice.”

His cell phone rang and he grabbed it from his pants pocket.

“Who is it?” Amy asked before he could take the call.

He glanced at the screen. “My brother.”

Taking him off guard, Amy reached out and swiped the phone from his hand. In an instant, she opened the window and threw the device into thin air.

“What the hell?”

Amy’s heart raced a mile a minute. She truly couldn’t blame him for being angry. But with the act of throwing his phone out, her heart pumped faster and more furiously in her chest. She’d scared herself while his face flushed red with anger.

“The Hot Zone will replace it,” she said, repeating what Micki had told her last night when she’d called to support Amy and her plan.

They agreed that given the chance, Roper would use his phone to call and check on his family or let them know where he was. Both women were convinced, though, that once he had the opportunity to unwind and he saw how focused he could be on his career, he’d willingly go along with their plan.

“I don’t believe this.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“Believe it.” Amy turned back toward the window, intending to ignore him.

Reverse psychology. She couldn’t think of another way to work around Roper’s anger. She curled her hands into fists and looked out the window, not really seeing the passing scenery.

“What’s going to stop me from picking up a phone at the lodge and calling someone to come get me?” he asked.

“Nothing except your own common sense. I’m counting on the fact that you want to get healthy enough that you’ll give this experiment a chance. See what relaxing without pressure does for your frame of mind.”

He’d soon discover that his suite had been stripped of a telephone and the staff had been instructed not to give him access to either the house phone or anyone’s personal cell phone. He could definitely find a way to leave or call home if he was downright determined, but it wouldn’t be easy. And Amy hoped that by the time he found the means, he’d no longer have the desire.

She drew a deep, calming breath. “I’m betting that after a few days, you’ll be thanking me for this.”

“Not likely,” he muttered.

“You don’t need to worry about your family,” she reassured him. “Micki is making herself personally available to them for any emergencies. You trust Micki to handle them, don’t you?”

He didn’t reply. Instead he shifted in the seat beside her and exhaled hard. Reverse psychology, Amy reminded herself, pushing aside the gnawing guilt.

Then she followed his lead and ignored him for the rest of the long car ride upstate.

A WOMAN WHO INTRODUCED herself as Lisa, the assistant manager, escorted Roper to his private suite. He wasn’t surprised to see he had a dresser and closet full of his favorite brand of workout clothes, T-shirts and a note assuring him anything else he needed would be provided by the concierge—whom he had to walk downstairs to reach since he had no phone in his room.

The suite had a fully stocked kitchen, including a refrigerator and pantry, along with a set of dishes and utensils for him to use. A quick glance told him the coffeemaker was state-of-the-art and his favorite flavored beans were sitting beside the appliance along with a note.

Relax and enjoy. You need it and so does your career. Courtesy of Athletes Only and the Hot Zone.

On the nightstand, there was a list of restaurants on the premises, a room service card and a printed schedule of activities specifically put together for him. From the daily physical-therapy appointment to the orthopedist on call if there were any problems, to the gym hours and scheduled masseuse, every one of his needs had been taken care of. Despite the fact that it was already past lunchtime, even today had been booked. He had a full afternoon of rehab and relaxation waiting for him.

Obviously he could find someone with a cell phone or grab a ride to town and use a phone, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that Amy had a point.

Though at the moment he was loathe to give Amy credit for anything.

AMY LEFT HER SUITCASE OPEN on the bed and pulled out a swimsuit. She hadn’t had a real swim since leaving Florida, not that she considered an over-chlorinated indoor pool the equivalent of what she was used to, but she’d have to make do. She had a lot of frustration and, yes, guilt, to work out and she knew no better way than a swim.