Hard and Fast

Her head dropped to the steering wheel. “I don’t believe this.” She must be setting some kind of record for most random acts of misfortune tonight.

A knock sounded on the window. Like the cowboy who wears the white hat, Brad had come to her rescue. As much as she appreciated his presence, she hated that circumstances were conspiring to make her appear as though she needed rescuing.

He pulled open the door and she could have sworn he smiled. But then the smile was gone, replaced with concern. Good thing. She might have hurt him if he gloated at a time like this.

“Ride with me,” Brad offered. “You can call the rental company on the way to the coffee shop.”

“I need to wait on a new car.”

“Tell them to deliver it to wherever you’re staying. I’ll drop you there after the interview.”

That sounded logical. Except for the part that landed Brad at her hotel. That sounded so good. Too good.

She got out of the car. Brad was facing her, his hand on the door so that his broad shoulders enclosed her. She could almost feel the warmth of his body. She remembered how it felt when he held her, and the memory teased her with possibilities. With her own wants and desires.

Call a cab, a voice inside her head said. She ignored the voice. “Okay. Let’s go.”

She wanted Brad Rogers. But before she could allow herself to have him she had to think through the implications and be prepared for the consequences.

She would always have to face Brad the next day. At the games. In the locker room. On the bus or plane while traveling.

And someone would find out. They always did in these situations. It was impossible to keep sex hidden, especially in these kinds of circumstances, with players and reporters being so close. For Brad, sleeping with the new reporter would be a notch on his bedpost. It might even make him a hero to the other guys. For Amanda, it would damage her reputation and her career. There would always be doubt and innuendo about how far she’d go to get a story. Was she prepared for that?

It was a high price to pay. With any other man she would have walked away without a qualm. But her sexual infatuation with Brad was too strong to be ignored. So she had to figure out a way to do the man until he was out of her system while protecting her job.

Easy. Not.

8

BRAD PULLED HIS TRUCK into a spot in a far corner of the hotel parking lot, unable to find a spot closer to Amanda’s room. Apparently, there was a convention here and the place was packed.

The rental agency had told Amanda she’d have a new vehicle delivered to her hotel in one to four hours, which made their coffee date impossible. He had mixed feelings about that.

On the one hand, a little coffee and conversation would have eased Amanda’s obvious apprehension about being alone with him. Certainly it would have cooled the heat between them a degree or two, so that sex wasn’t such a big deal.

On the other hand, he wanted her so much, he didn’t want to ease the tension between them. He wanted her hot and breathless and as wrapped up in him as he was in her. Already he was fascinated by little quirky traits about her, such as the way she rambled and became jumpy when she was nervous. He’d never known a woman who made him think about sex and sin so much, yet still managed to be adorable and sweet.

The adorable and sweet part made him nervous because it usually signaled relationship and commitment. He wasn’t ready for that. A little under-the-covers action was one thing. He had too much on the line right now for anything more. He’d seen guys get distracted by women. Seen their play suffer for it, too. Until he had a signed contract in hand, there would be no distractions.

So as long as Amanda accepted that there would only be sex between them, he was good to go.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said, killing the ignition. Darkness engulfed the cab of the truck.

“It’s okay,” Amanda said. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Rain check on coffee?”

She smiled. “Rain check on an interview?”

“We can still do the interview,” he said, not ready for this night to end. “What do you want to know?”

“A little while ago you didn’t want to interview in a parking lot.”

“I guess I changed my mind.”

“I can’t interview you now,” she said. “Not in a pitch-dark truck.”

He twisted in his seat to face her. The space between them begged to be eliminated. All he had to do was slide forward and reach for her. “You could invite me in.”

“I’m not going to do that, and you know it.”