Hot Target

“No game. I’m hungry. I figured you might be, too.”

He was trying to get her to let down her guard again. She wasn’t a fool. This man and this situation were turning her upside down. “You’re my client.”

“Right,” he said, reaching for a cordless phone on the bar and sitting down. “And that means what exactly?”

Her chin inched up. She wanted the parameters set. The line drawn in the sand. Directness seemed her best option. “I can’t do this, Luke,” she said.

“Eat with me or sleep with me?”

“I can’t sleep with you.”

He arched that damnably sexy eyebrow and said, “Chinese food is okay, though, right?”

She inhaled, suddenly feeling really not so good about her directness—embarrassed, in fact. Maybe he’d already played his game and won the kiss. Maybe he’d moved on, and she was making something big out of nothing. He was a jerk, and she’d become some passing notch on his belt.

“I’m not hungry, after all,” she said. “I’d really prefer that you direct me to my room, and we can try starting fresh in the morning.”

“Tell me,” he said, resting his elbows on the bar, his dark tee stretching over well-honed muscle. “How are you going to play the role of my girlfriend when you’re running away from me?”

Damn the man. “I’m not running.”

“Prove it,” he dared with a gleam in his eye that told her she should keep her mouth shut. “Stay here and eat with me.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to eat together on the road,” she said. “And I have nothing to prove. I simply want to get some rest.”

He considered her a moment. “First door on the right at the top of the stairs.”

That was all she had to hear. Katie turned in flight, rushing toward the door, ready for escape. Running. Oh, yeah, she was running. “Katie.”

Something in his tone, in the softly spoken word, drew her to a pause at the door. She half turned, ready to complete her escape. “Yes?”

“I’m going to try to change your mind,” he said. He wasn’t talking about Chinese food. He was talking about sex.

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t try.” But as she stepped into the hall, departing before he could say more, she knew she wanted him to try. Because she wanted him. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t hide. Not when she was sleeping in the man’s house.

4

IT WAS almost midnight, a good forty-five minutes after Katie left Luke in his den. She’d showered in the private bathroom attached to her bedroom and changed into shorts and a T-shirt, her stomach growling with the absence of that Chinese food.

Katie sat cross-legged on top of a massive sleigh bed that was draped in a fluffy, navy-blue comforter, talking with her best friend and outrageously outspoken business partner, Donna Montgomery.

“Sleeping with Luke Winter could be the best thing you ever did,” Donna said in the normal brazen fashion with which she approached life that somehow fit her fiery red hair and curves galore. “And since you’re play dating him, you might as well get the benefits.”

Leaning back against the array of throw pillows and pulling her knees to her chest, Katie rolled her eyes and embraced the levelheaded control she considered critical to her success, despite having shown none of it with Luke thus far. “That’s insane. You’re insane. No. Sleeping with Luke Winter would be insane.”

“Some people would say not sleeping with a man like that would be insane,” Donna insisted. “I’m one of those people, by the way.”

“Really?” Katie said in mock disbelief. “I would never have guessed that.”

“You know what they say,” she added. “If you fall off a bike, get back on and ride again. Ride another athlete, sweetheart. Then maybe you can finally move on from Joey.”

“Oh, good grief,” Katie said. “I do not need an athlete to ride. I moved past Joey Martin a long time ago. I never loved that man to start with.”

“Oh, I know that,” she said. “Joey’s power over you had nothing to do with Joey. It was about your knee being blown out and your dancing career with it. But it left you guarded. You have to move on, not from Joey, but from yourself.” She hesitated and then softened her voice. “It’s been years, Katie. Do what you need to do to put the past to rest, but put it to rest.”

“It’s resting,” she said. “I’ve simply been too busy to date. If the right guy comes around, I will. But Luke Winter isn’t that guy. He’s a client.” Which was why the molten attraction to him could go nowhere.

“You mean he’s a ballplayer,” Donna said.

“That’s irrelevant,” Katie reminded her.

“Actually it’s quite relevant,” Donna countered. “It’s a chance to be empowered. Have a hot fling and move on, and do so with a smile on your face. As Nike says—Just do it! Besides, you said he doesn’t take these threats seriously. Sometimes the woman in a man’s bed has the most influence on him.”