Nice Girls Finish Last

‘Yeah,’ he said, flopping back onto the pillow, his smile sounding. ‘I can see you’ve got your game face on.’

She walked out of the bedroom before that mask slipped and revealed her true feelings. That stupid desire for more—the more that she’d never get from a guy like him. She wasn’t going to waste time and emotional energy getting involved any further with someone who’d never offer what she really wanted. She’d done that once—spectacularly trashing her own life and hurting so many others. So why would she walk into another dead-end situation with her eyes wide open? There was nothing wrong with ‘right now’ but, as their ‘now’ had passed, there was no future.

He appeared, dressed but dishevelled. Looking just like the wild night he’d had and so gorgeous she went weak-kneed. Yes, there was that other problem—like suited like and Seth belonged to a different league from her. She didn’t want to sit around waiting for the next woman to come along and outclass her.

‘You want something to eat before you go?’ She used the kitchen bench and the jug of hot coffee in her hand for defensive distance. Stopping herself from moving towards him.

That teasing smile tweaked his lips. ‘No, I can see you’re busy. I’ll let you get on.’

She nodded, relieved he was now making this easy. Of course, he was a pro at everything women-related and clearly her calling time didn’t bother him all that much. Another sign she was doing the right thing. ‘Thanks for dinner and…everything,’ she finished. So lame, she wanted to slither behind a rock somewhere.

‘My pleasure. I had an amazing time,’ he said easily.

But she heard bucketfuls of irony. She blushed—ridiculous considering everything they’d done. But he seemed so amused, and now the sunlight was streaming through the window the glare hurt her eyes. ‘You won’t say—’

‘Just between us,’ he interrupted carelessly. ‘We both know that.’

‘Great,’ she said with masses more chirp than she felt. ‘Well, thanks again.’

She saw the flash as his amusement deepened but then he turned. And that was it. He was out of the door before she got there to wave goodbye as a polite hostess ought to. She was frozen behind the bench, hot jug in hand, staring into the space he’d left behind.

Seth walked out of her house, got into his car and started driving. Out of earshot, his grin gave way to the full-body laugh he’d been holding back the last ten minutes. She wasn’t used to the one-night scene or she’d have a more polished boot-him-out routine. She’d twisted up and iced over—spoiling her attempt to pull off a relaxed, sophisticated flick-off. But it was interesting that she wanted him out, and he believed that on one level she meant it when she said she didn’t want more. But she did—he’d felt it when he’d kissed her. She’d responded so wonderfully, as she had throughout the night. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told him she wanted a good time, but she hadn’t been completely selfish. She’d delighted in touching as much as she had in taking. Only, now her hedonistic moment had passed, she was back to the woman who said no.

Usually after a night or two of fun, Seth was ready to move on himself, but he and she definitely weren’t yet done. Last night had merely been the preliminary and there’d be ten rounds in this ring. At least.

His phone beeped and he glanced at the screen. A drop of guilt slid like poison under his skin when he saw who the message was from. He was due to meet Andrew this afternoon and he’d promised he’d have a solution. He drew breath, telling himself that his selfish pleasure-seeking moment wouldn’t have messed up the charity’s chances for the following week. Lena would agree—in fact, Seth could use their tryst to his advantage, right? He could, of course, always buy their way into another sports club for the programme. If he had to he would, because he wasn’t letting Andrew and the boys down. Except he wanted to be with the Knights next week, to be at the stadium as much as possible. Because he wanted Lena Kelly to have to say yes. Again. And then again.

He pulled in to his apartment and headed straight for the shower. He’d freshen up and then go in for the fight. Under the steaming jet of water he mulled over the possibilities, formulating a strategy that would see all his problems solved—an inspirational activity for the boys and Lena back in bed with him ASAP.

She might have cheated him out of the chase before, but it was all on now.

For the first time ever Lena was late to work—only by five minutes—but given she was usually there at least an hour early it was notable. This morning she’d stood so long in the shower it wasn’t just her fingers and toes that had turned into prunes, but her face, as well. Or maybe the sour expression was because she was in an extremely bad mood—with herself.

She shouldn’t have done it. Not that it was sleeping with him that she regretted, but her wistful aftermath. She wished she could have gone to breakfast with him at a café, wished she could have showered with him, wished she could have played more with him. Wished he’d want more from her. She wished she were a different person.

Yeah, the more she truly wished for, was from herself.

But while she was trying, some things weren’t going to change, so there was no point in wishing. Instead she cleared her inbox, determined to finish even one job so she’d feel as if she’d accomplished something and was in control of her morning—and of herself. But it was an effort to keep her thoughts on task and she fiercely fought to focus. To help, she put on some music—letting the rhythmic beat be her lead. The one song on repeat became like white noise in the background, a cue for her brain to concentrate.

She finally got into the rhythm of it, her fingers typing and her head nodding in time, her emotions at ease, letting her brain work through each message. She paused, fingers above the keyboard as she framed the wording of her current email, and glanced away from the screen.

She jerked, doing a double take at the tall figure in her doorway.

Her heart leapt; she tried to suppress her gasp but all the effort did was make her breathless. ‘What are you doing here?’

She had no idea how long he’d been standing there. She had no idea why he was standing there. But her whole body reacted, her numbed nerves screamed back to life—an instant inferno of surprise, embarrassment and that uncontrollable desire.

‘Stalking you.’ His smile was too easy.

Her heart galloped like trapped wild horses who’d just found a gap in the fence. Was he here to ask her out? She was so surprised and thrilled and flustered. ‘I—I thought we agreed—’

‘Don’t worry, I was kidding,’ he interrupted, walking across to her desk and taking the seat opposite in far too relaxed a fashion. ‘There was a misunderstanding yesterday. I wasn’t here to see Dion, I came to see you.’

‘Me?’ Suspicion sharply squeezed her heart. ‘Why?’

‘We probably should have discussed this sooner, but I got…distracted.’

What should they have discussed? She swallowed, suddenly nervous. She refused to think about how he’d got distracted. She refused to think about how dazzling he looked in the tailored suit. How his slightly damp hair was rumpled, reflecting that hint of wicked playfulness she knew was a mere scratch below his surface. She refused to think about how much she wanted to touch him. Now.

He sat back in the chair, his gaze dropping to her scrupulously tidy desk. ‘I’m involved with an organisation that helps at-risk youth. Teen boys mainly, who have had a couple of brushes with the law, who have high truancy levels. Kids who need some guidance and inspiration to stick to a straighter path.’

Lena’s blood chilled as her heart shrank. She waited, knowing he was about to ask her for something and that it wasn’t going to be personal. The man had an agenda. He’d had one the whole time.

His lashes lifted and his blue eyes were cool, his voice measured. He was clearly having no trouble focusing—a little fact that stung her already oversensitive nerves.

‘Every few months

we run a course,’ he said. ‘A mentoring programme.’

‘What’s this got to do with me—with the stadium?’ she amended quickly. But she already knew where this was going and she was fighting the crushing feeling.

‘We want to run the programme here—have the boys train alongside the team for a week. Let them see and understand what discipline, drive, dedication and hard work is. We have compulsory workshops in every course but we need permission to use the facilities here for it. And we need approval for our boys to attend training each day and to have the opportunity for some question-and-answer time with the team. The players are the inspiration factor for the boys. The kids need to see how hard those guys work, every day, and of course see what the rewards of extreme effort can be.’

She understood the aim immediately and knew the Silver Knights were a good example. They’d done that sort of thing before. Management encouraged the players themselves to continue with study so they had something to work towards when they finished playing professionally or if, worst case, they were injured and had their careers taken from them. They tried to help them build rounded lives and steer them through the pitfalls of temptation that fame and accolade brought. The rugby guys were driven and worked hard—hard enough to make dreams a reality. Some had come from childhoods of hardship. So, yes, most were inspirational for a lot of people. Of course some played around after hours but every single one was utterly determined and focused when it came to it—the game on the grass came first. Seth’s request made total sense and was nothing new.