‘Yet you have those cheerleader girls in the tiniest outfits,’ Seth muttered, not ready to laugh yet.
‘And the rugby guys are all but naked in the calendar.’ Dion shook his head. ‘Lena is all yours, but if she doesn’t want you, she doesn’t want you, and I’ve never seen her change her mind. You might just have to deal with failure for once.’
Seth didn’t know the meaning of the word. And he had no intention of finding it out now.
CHAPTER SEVEN
FOR the first half of Monday morning Lena managed to avoid them altogether. They’d arrived, she’d heard the voices; if she went to look out of the floor-to-ceiling windows in the corridor she’d be able to see them on the field. But she kept herself busy buried behind paper. Okay, she was forcing herself to stay there—and the second hand on the clock was ticking too slowly. Eventually, however, her shrieking curiosity could no longer be ignored. She walked down to the change rooms—didn’t go into them, though, went straight along the tunnel that led to the pitch instead.
The Knights were working one half of it, pacing through their usual drills. On the other half was some really tall lanky guy, a disparate tribe of teens and the ultra-fit one in the familiar tee shirt and shorts. Seth was calling the play, making them sweat. But also, she saw in less than six seconds, making them laugh.
She couldn’t help lingering to watch the interaction between him and the boys. The tall guy was clearly the sidekick, because he was the one doing the big ups and support shouts, while Seth was the one pushing the boys to work. She knew from reading their planned schedule that it wouldn’t all be fun on the footie field. They had workshops on all kinds of topics—from drugs and alcohol, to anger management, to basic reading and writing.
She leaned against the rail, couldn’t help tracking that one player. And he knew it. Even from fifty feet away she felt it when his attention shot to her. Her body temp lifted as hormones surged. Her heart was pounding as fast as those boys’ ones were and she didn’t have the exercise excuse for it. Eventually the two groups were pulled together and re-split so they could play a mini-game. Youth and professional. But she watched the one who refused to fit into any category. Lena turned; she’d be stuck here all day achieving nothing if she didn’t force her feet to move. It wasn’t okay to stand on the sideline and drool—she wasn’t a groupie, remember?
Ten minutes later she was in the change room sorting the latest box of PR goodies when she heard the shouting. She ran back down the tunnel, nearly bumping into a rookie player sprinting the other way. Quickly she scanned the field. But it wasn’t Seth or any of his boys who was down. The Knights were gathered into a loose circle—one of their own sprawled on the ground. Seth stood on the edge of the group. Footsteps thudded past, beating faster than Lena’s galloping heart. Gabe moved swiftly across the close-cropped grass, kit bag in hand, while the player who’d fetched him jogged alongside.
But that player wasn’t the rookie she’d passed in the corridor. Suddenly Lena remembered that kid’s pale face as he’d run. No prizes for guessing who’d been on top in the tackle. Relief hit. She was so thankful it hadn’t been one of Seth’s boys who’d been involved. But then she remembered the recent history of the rookie who had. Quickly she turned back into the tunnel; twenty seconds later she found him, fists clenched, as he leaned against the wall just outside the change room. He didn’t say anything as she neared, didn’t look up, didn’t move.
She touched his shoulder lightly. ‘It’s okay,’ she said firmly. ‘Gabe’s with him.’
She felt his flinch and then his grip on himself tightened.
‘I didn’t mean to…’ Beneath his fierce expression she saw his devastation.
‘Of course you didn’t.’ She wished one of the guys would come—like now. Because this kid had been in a game before where another young up-and-comer had ended up with broken bones and smashed dreams and she didn’t know if she was saying the right thing.
‘You know they want players with passion,’ she tried anyway. ‘They want guys who put everything they have into it. Risk comes with that. Accidents happen.’
‘I don’t want to kill another guy’s career.’
‘You won’t have.’ At least, she hoped not. ‘You’re a great player. They believe in you. Your team-mates believe in you.’ Anxiously she looked into his face, wishing she could reassure him. ‘I believe in you. And your job is to get back out there. They need you to be the force you are.’
‘Lena’s right, mate.’ The assistant coach spoke from behind her. ‘He’s fine. Bit groggy but nothing that can’t be fixed. You know it was a clean tackle.’
Thank goodness they were there at last—the assistant coach and Ty. She quickly raised her brows at the captain and he winked. She breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Talk to Coach and get back out there,’ she said to the rookie as she moved away. ‘Train hard.’
‘Thanks, Lena,’ the kid called gruffly as she walked back out towards the pitch.
Only, her adrenaline levels didn’t dim, because Seth was at the end of the tunnel.
‘You really know the history of them all, don’t you?’ he said quietly as she neared.
So he’d been listening in.
‘Sure,’ she answered on auto, trying to keep her eyes on the players who were back into training and nowhere near Seth. Because he was even more bone-melting masculine with his just-worked-out glow on. ‘It’s helpful when I do the PR spin on the tours. People like to know facts and figures.’
‘We sure do,’ he murmured lightly. ‘But he’s okay? Because the other guy’s fine.’
She glanced, unable to resist the concerned note in his voice. Big mistake. In a microsecond of sharing the same airspace as him again, she was back to the wildly wanting woman of a week ago. She couldn’t believe it. Surely sex was supposed to shred all the tension? Surely once you’d gorged on the cake you didn’t want any more? It wasn’t supposed to leave you hungrier than ever.
‘I think so.’ Lena forced her answer, but she was drowning in his blue eyes and she started babbling, ‘He’s got huge power, but he’s still learning how to handle it. He’ll end up an amazing player. Are your boys okay?’
‘A bit subdued.’
‘It’s probably no bad thing for them to see the reality of injury.’
Lena jumped at the foreign voice. Turning, she realised the tall lanky guy was standing beside them. She’d been so busy staring at Seth she hadn’t noticed.
‘Lena, this is Andrew, the boys’ social worker.’ Seth introduced her with a knowing grin.
Embarrassed, she shook his hand.
‘I heard you talking to him,’ Andrew said. ‘It’d be great if you could talk to our boys, too.’
‘Don’t mind Andrew’s directness.’ Seth chuckled. ‘He’s shameless about asking for what he wants.’
Lena knew someone far more shameless and she flashed him a look telling him so.
Andrew seemed to miss the undertone as he went on with his query—all genuine enthusiasm. ‘It would be great to give them an insight into the PR stuff that you expect from the team, how you curb their behaviour.’
‘Some players’ behaviour is impossible to curb,’ Lena said, sending Seth another charged look before turning a softer smile to Andrew. ‘But if you think it would be of interest, of course I will.’
Immediately after that she retreated to her upstairs domain, determinedly not looking out of the window at all for the next four hours. Wishing she could kill the desire to gawp at the gorgeous one all day. Wishing she’d never agreed to his presence here. But then, when the sun had passed the zenith and was on its way down, she heard it—the music.
Oh, no. She spun away from her desk and stood in the one swift movement, striding straight out to the corridor and out of one of the doors leading to the second-level seating of the stadium. Her high heels echoed as she moved down the concrete steps to the edge of the railing from where she had a fantastic view of the field. She stared—hard—and told herself she was not jealous
.
But there was not one, not two, not even a mere three. There were five of them around him already. In their skimpy skirts with their legs up to their armpits and their hair down to their tiny little waists.
Just as Contez Stadium was home to the Silver Knights, it was also home to the Silver Blades—the dancers who entertained the crowds before the game and during the interval. And Lena had completely forgotten that Monday afternoon was their on-pitch practice session.
She knew a few of them. Most were students. Most were lovely. All were completely gorgeous—glossy, slim, sexy. Amazingly flexible, too. She tried very hard not to care about the flock currently hanging on Seth’s every word as he stood encircled by them. She tried very hard not to glare. She wasn’t interested in what he did with any or indeed all five of them. Who was she to judge? After all, she’d thrown herself at him, too. By rights all women should get to experience what she had a week ago.
Now she felt sick.
He glanced up to where she stood at the front of the stand and gave her a huge grin and an oversized wink. She froze, wanting to turn and storm off, only not wanting to be so damn obvious. But then, with a few words and a devilish smile, he extricated himself from the bevy of gorgeousnesses. She remained frozen, watching as he crossed the grass and then walked up the steps, effortlessly swinging up and over the railing to where she stood like an ice sculpture.
‘I see you’ve found the way to have your needs met.’ She couldn’t resist baiting.
His expression remained bland. ‘Well, I do love women who don’t try to hide what they want.’