Hot Target
His hand dropped from the gearshift as he angled his body toward hers. “I’m not ignoring the letters, just the idea of a real threat behind them. I’m of the opinion someone is trying to rattle my cage—or rather, my game. There’s a lot of ugly jealousy and competition in this sport. Hell, in all sports. We like to pretend it doesn’t exist, but it does.”
“Don’t you think threatening letters are pretty extreme?” she asked.
“And taking steroids that might damage your body and get you kicked out of the game isn’t?”
She inclined her head. “Point taken.”
“And since we’re breaking this down. That salt-in-the-water incident—that would have been laughed off as a team prank under different circumstances, but one of the letters made it to the management office.”
“Ron didn’t mention that,” Katie said.
“Well, good thing I did, then,” he said, “considering it’s a fairly important detail. In other words, someone wanted them breathing down my throat.”
“Even if this person is trying to rattle you, Luke,” Katie warned, “you have to see this is unstable behavior.” Sooner or later, the guilty party would step up their game, do more than letters and salt in the water.
“Maybe,” he conceded. “But whoever this is, they aren’t bringing me down. I won’t let them. I have a zone I enter when I walk onto that mound, and nothing but the game exists there. And I had a damn good preseason to prove it.”
Understanding filled Katie. “I remember that zone,” she said softly, drawing his surprised look. “When I was dancing, before I blew out my knee, everything else disappeared inside the music and the routine.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “You loved dancing. That was your real dream. Not this security biz.”
She gave a terse nod. “Yes. My dancing was your baseball. I was injured and I knew it, but I landed a choreographer spot on a top musician’s tour. The top spot.” She remembered the call all too well. “I’d been a nobody so long. It was my big break.”
“And you blew out your knee again,” he murmured.
“Right. Messed it up for good.” She tilted her head acceptingly. “But that’s old news. I’ve adjusted and moved on. What else can I do? What can any of us do in such a situation?”
Katie settled her leg on the seat and turned to face him. “The point in my story, Luke, isn’t about me. It’s about you. I want you to know I understand where you’re coming from. I don’t want you to feel I’m working against your career. I know the first game of the season is less than a week away. I can see why it’s important you don’t let this mess with your head, and I’ll do everything in my power to make the security fade into the background. To let you play. In fact, if you’re right and someone is trying to mess with your head, it will be my great pleasure to watch you pitch the best season of your career.”
A slow smile slid onto his lips. “I am going to pitch the best season of my career.”
“And I’ll be here covering your back while you do,” she promised, returning his smile.
His gaze lowered to her lips, lingered, then lifted. “What would you do if I grabbed you and kissed you right now?”
“You don’t want to know,” she warned, trying to keep the playful out of her tone, but it was hard. So hard.
His eyes lit with desire. “What if I do?”
What if she did, too? “Drive the truck.”
She’d barely finished issuing the order when he pulled her close, that big, hard body touching her in all the right places. His tongue thrusting deep into her mouth in a long, drugging kiss. She tried to seem unaffected, but he tasted so good, felt too perfect. She could feel the moan rising in her throat; she willed it back. But it was there, escaping her lips and declaring the blissful state of arousal overtaking her body.
Luke smiled against her mouth. “I had a feeling that’s what you’d do.”
She shook herself inwardly and shoved out of his arms. “That’s not what I should have done. I should have punished you in some horrible, painful way involving my knee.”
“You and that knee.” He chuckled and put the truck in gear. “I’m sure you can think of a way to punish me that doesn’t include horrible and painful in the description.”
Erotic images about how she might punish him—tie him up, kiss every one of his delicious abdominals and elsewhere while he begged for more. Oh, boy. Katie shook herself, but judging from Luke’s renewed rumble of deep, sexy laughter, not before he guessed she was in naughty land.
Katie glared at him and snatched her seat belt, doing the only safe thing the truck allowed. She secured herself as far from Luke as possible for as long as possible—until tonight, when she was destined to be on his arm, as his date. Protecting him. Now, who the heck was going to protect her from him? That was the real question. And did she really want to be?