“I told you, Jack,” Laura said. “I was mad when I called you. I don’t have a secret to tell.”
“He doesn’t care about you, Laura,” Jack said. “And I can prove it.”
“What are you doing?”
Amanda jumped, surprised to hear Brad behind her. She whirled around, caught eavesdropping. He wore soft Levi’s and a black T-shirt that hugged his muscles.
She cleared her throat. “I was looking for the bathroom.”
“It’s time to go. Use the one on the plane.”
“I hate walking around on planes.”
“You’re kidding.”
Her fear might seem silly to some, but it was quite real to her. “No. I’m not kidding. I hate flying.”
His gaze swept her body—a lingering, sizzling inspection—before he brought his eyes back to hers. “I missed you last night.”
He had? “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“We agreed, no personal stuff on the road. It’s too dangerous.”
The announcement came over the intercom again. “Come on. We have to board.”
Amanda reached out and grabbed his arm, stalling him. “We did agree, right, Brad?”
Kurt charged toward them, waving for them to get going. “Damn, people,” he spouted. “Get a move on.”
“Coming,” Amanda said, turning away from Brad and starting forward. He fell into step beside her. Already she was making a spectacle of herself with Brad. Drawing attention where she didn’t need it.
She was so in trouble.
***
BRAD MANAGED TO RESIST Amanda for three hours and fifty-five minutes. That’s how long it had been since he’d sworn off her on the plane. Now, sitting in the hotel bar, tables pushed together to accommodate the team, Amanda sat several seats down and across from him. He tried to remember his list of reasons not to do Amanda again. Oh, yeah, his career, his contract, his mother needing him close. All these things meant he couldn’t take risks and become headlines.
But just when he’d wrapped his mind around those concepts, Becker sat next to Amanda, apparently over the cold shoulder he’d been giving her. Brad watched as the kid flirted with her, and tossed gloating looks in Brad’s direction. Brad so wanted to ram the fact he’d already won their bet down Becker’s throat. The kid was lucky there was an audience and that Brad had promised Amanda not to tell anyone about them.
Tony slapped the table, pulling Brad out of a fantasy where he jacked Becker against a wall and made him cry like a baby. “When Amanda screamed I realized she was locked in the bathroom. I thought I was going to roll out of my seat laughing,” Tony said, reaching for his beer.
“Have you ever been in a bathroom when a plane drops half out of the sky?” she demanded. “I was sure my head was going through the ceiling.”
“It wasn’t as bad as you thought,” Reggie told her, biting back laughter unsuccessfully. “Drink up. You’re still frazzled.”
“I was worried about you,” Becker offered, acting sincere.
“I bet you were,” Brad said, unable to hold back. “Afraid she wouldn’t live long enough to retract that garter story?”
Becker’s face colored but he didn’t get to respond. Jack, who’d arrived a couple hours after the team, and now sat several seats down from Amanda, took a dig at her.
“Maybe you should sedate her for the next flight,” Jack commented. “Might make things more tolerable.” He chuckled and brought his beer to his lips, taking a drink. “Nothing more distracting than a screaming female.”
Amanda cast him a sticky-sweet smile. “Tell me, Jack. When was the last time you heard a female scream?”
The entire table exploded in laughter. Jack shook his head, smiling. “You are something, Amanda.” He paused. “Speaking of making women scream, I arranged a little treat for you gentlemen. A private party down at The Red Zone. Free drinks and hot women. Bring your own dollar bills.” Hoots of appreciation flared around the table. When they died down Jack eyed Amanda. “You’re welcome to come.”
Brad heard Becker offer to stay to keep Amanda company. Amanda declined. Good. The job was taken. Now all Brad had to do was wait for the guys to leave.
Exactly an hour later, he’d ditched the team. After a failed attempt to get her room number from the desk clerk, he called Amanda’s cell.
“Brad?” Surprise registered in her voice when she answered.
“What room are you in?”
“What? I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?”
“We agreed. No sex. I mean, no contact on the road.”
“Define sex,” he said.
She made a frustrated sound. “Nothing remotely like sex.”
He frowned. “All right. We’ll order room service and I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Okay, no, I won’t. Tell me your room number.”
“Brad.”
God, he loved the way she said his name. “You know you want to.”
“You always say that.”
He smiled into the phone. “Only because it’s true.”
“We can’t.”
“No one will know.”
“Another one of your famous lines,” she replied. “I figured you’d be out with the guys at the topless bar.”