Playing for Hearts (51 page)

She leaned her head against the inside of his thigh, wishing his story was true and knowing their fake relationship was anything but the forever kind. “Lucky for us there was a preacher in the lodge, and we were able to say our ‘I dos.' Now we need to concentrate on Juan winning the gold.”

Before she could smile to cover their story, Juan tipped her head back and kissed the end of her nose. Her nose!

“Forever, baby,” he whispered.

She ducked her chin, and between the heat of the water and Juan, she boiled. “Let me change positions with you, honey. I'm getting too warm.”

The other guys laughed for some reason. She quickly swiveled around, took Juan's hands, and pulled herself out of the tub. How Juan manipulated her, she had no idea, but there she was, sitting in the exact spot he'd vacated with her legs wide open, and his head leaning back against her stomach.

Oh my God …

She flailed her hands in the air, not knowing where to put them. Catching a glimpse of his teammates watching her, she did the only thing she could think of, and put her hands on Juan's shoulders. Surprisingly, she calmed down.

She wanted to blame her reaction on Juan being the only person here she semi-knew, but she'd be lying. Her husband fascinated her in a good way. He tempted her to forget they were playing and that their marriage was a sham.

T.T. came out the sliding door. “Looks like Amante Español has officially retired. Man, I'll miss all the women he cast off to me.”

Dana jolted at hearing Juan's nickname. His reputation reflected back at her. If there was one thing she'd learned being raised by her father it was that you don't sully the family name.

“That name is buried and dead.” Juan looped his arms over Dana's thighs. “You know how I hated the press calling me the Spanish Lover. It's bad enough I'm the only Hispanic skiing for the U.S. team, I don't need the added reputation.”

Dana bit the inside of her cheek. She had a feeling he wasn't putting on a show for the guys. He really did dislike the name the press picked for him.

Curious about what kinds of pre-disposed battles he'd fought to make his way to the top, she couldn't help opening her mouth. “Well, I can be the first one to tell everyone that skiing is your life. I've never met a more dedicated, hard-working person in my life.”

Juan turned his head and kissed the inside of her thigh. She stroked his hair. She'd spoken the truth. He was professional and honest. The fans loved him and he'd saved her ass. He'd set her life schedule back on the right path … momentarily.

“Damn, man, you have me missing my woman.” Travis jumped out of the hot tub. “I'll be back.”

“Where's he going?” T.T. asked after the door slid closed.

Joe chuckled. “Ten bucks says he's going to call Stephanie.”

“Who's she?” Dana said.

Juan tilted his head back. “His girl. They've been going out for about a year. Stephanie's on the U.S. gymnastic team.”

“Stephanie Hyatt?” Dana's mouth came open when Juan nodded. “Oh my God, I love her. She's America's sweetheart. I cheered for her after she sprained her ankle on her dismount during the last games.”

“That's her,” Juan said.

“Wow.” She gazed at the door. “Stephanie and Travis.” She shook her head. “He's so shy, and she loves the camera. I never would've guessed.”

“Opposites attract,” T.T. mumbled.

Juan shifted and rubbed his shoulder. Dana frowned. She'd noticed him massaging his arm earlier.

She leaned over and whispered, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” He stood. “I'm about done in, guys. I think we're going to call it a night.”

Dana planted her feet on the deck, and stood. She grabbed two towels, and handed one to Juan before wrapping the other one around herself. She was glad he'd put an end to their party. She had a gazillion questions for him.

Then minutes later, Dana and Juan stood in the living room alone. She crossed her arms, holding the towel on her.

“I'm going to take a shower,” Juan said.

“Me too.” She moved to go to her own room and collided into his side. “Sorry.”

He steadied her. “Dana, I … ”

She gazed up into his eyes. Her chest tightened, and she had a fleeting thought that she'd disappointed him somehow. It left her uneasy. “Is something wrong?”

Maybe he'd changed his mind. The charade had to be harder on him because he spent all his time surrounded by his team, his friends. He'd lied about their situation, and from what she'd learned, he usually told the truth.

He shook his head. “No. Everything's good. I only wanted to see if you'd like to watch a movie or something. It's still early.”

“Oh, okay. Sure.” She moved away from him. “That sounds nice.”

She turned and hurried into her bedroom and slammed the door. Her heart raced erratically, and she pressed her hand to her forehead. What was she doing?

She couldn't jump every time Juan came within a foot of her. She sagged against the door, and then slapped her hand over her mouth.
Oh my God.

Did he just ask her out on a date to watch a movie in their hotel room?

If anyone asked her the name of the movie playing on the television, Dana wouldn't have a clue. She pulled her feet up onto the couch and tucked the blanket around her legs. Once Juan had started answering her questions, he'd focused entirely on her.

The movie was only background noise.

“What's your mom's name?” Dana asked.

“Ana.” Juan's mouth softened. “God, I'd give anything to eat one of her dinners. I miss her cooking. When Mom and my sister, Maria, get together, we eat for days. They cook enough to feed the whole neighborhood. It's always a good thing when I go back into season, because I always gain at least ten pounds when I'm home in Oregon. They only live a few miles away from me and bring me leftovers all the time.”

His whole demeanor changed when he talked about his family. Dana smiled, happy that he had his memories to hold him while he was away from home and on the road. Instead of making her feel jealous of where he came from, or sad about the obvious lack of comforting memories in her own life, his stories simply fascinated her.

Her own upbringing had involved visits between her divorced parents, and court cases while they hashed out their dislike of one another in front of a judge. Family usually wasn't a topic she wanted to talk about with others, but hearing about the love Juan had for his mom and sister was like listening to a bedtime story.

“Pancakes or waffles?” she asked.

His brow wrinkled. “Waffles.”

“Me too. I love how the holes collect the butter so it doesn't run off.” She tapped her lips with her finger until Juan's gaze grew intense, and she quickly said, “Favorite color?”

“Blue,” he said.

“Brunettes, blondes, or redheads?” Heat rushed to her neck.

Not that she was curious. It was a normal question. Everyone had a preference.

“Blondes with blue eyes.” His voice lowered. “You set me up.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I totally did.”

But his answer pleased her, even if he was protecting himself and answering her the way she wanted him to. He was smooth. He probably dodged questions from the press all the time and answered depending on what he knew they'd want to hear.

“How about you?” He glanced at her and flashed a smile. “What kind of guy do you go for?”

She flipped her hair. “Once I met the man they call Amante Español, no other man would compare.”

Juan stared at her, and then opened his mouth and laughed. Her stomach flip-flopped, and although they were teasing each other, the sight of him letting the stress of their situation go delighted her. She rather liked the person he was when they were alone and not worrying about tomorrow.

“I never thought to ask you, but am I trespassing on someone else's property?” She caught her lip between her teeth.

“Huh?” Juan crossed his ankles.

She wrinkled her nose. “We kind of flew right into marriage and I have no idea if I've ticked some other woman off. Maybe a girlfriend back home? I mean, I know the other women are mad at me … I've heard the talk, and they're not shy about letting me know I won't keep you. But I need to know — ”

“There's no girlfriend and despite what you've been told, there's no woman in my life.” He raised his brow. “Okay?”

She nodded, and relaxed. “Just so you know, I don't have any more fiancés waiting to dump me hanging in the background either. Well, except for you, but you're my husband. That's totally different. You can't really get rid of me now without a … you know … ” she gulped, damning her big mouth, “divorce.”

“An annulment,” he muttered. “This isn't real.”

“Right,” she said.

She wasn't going to let that fact bother her. She plucked a piece of fuzz off the flannel blanket. Tomorrow, she'd call Daddy's attorney and find out what would have to be done next month after their marriage of convenience was completed.

“So, what's your chance of winning the gold?” She pushed past the melancholy thoughts.

Juan grinned. “Do you really care?”

She scoffed. “Seriously, dude? You have to ask?”

He raised he brows. “Dude?”

“Yeah. We're past the first name basis … you're a dude.” She grinned. “Give me the scoop. Who do you have to beat?”

“Bannister from Denmark. He's fast, experienced, and I outweigh him by fifteen pounds.” Juan's gaze landed on the floor. “I'm coming back from an injury, so I'm not sure what this year will be like for me.”

“What?” She rose up on her knees on the couch. “Where?”

He rubbed his shoulder. “Rotary cuff. Right here. I lost two months of practice over the summer. Precious time I needed to nail my times. As it is, I'm skiing at about eighty percent.”

“What's that mean?” she asked.

“I'm missing my times twenty percent of the time. You're only given so many runs, and each one counts. I screw up on one, and I can kiss the gold goodbye.” He grimaced. “Just between you and me, I don't feel right, despite the doctor giving me the okay. I don't know if I'm babying that side of me, or if I've lost the range of motion I had before the injury. Although all my tests check out.”

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Thanks, but no. I'm hoping I can work through whatever it is. It's probably mental, and will go away once the pressure is on. We'll be in Germany soon.”

“We?” she said.

He nodded. “You'll go too. You're my wife.”

“When are we going?” she asked.

“Three weeks.”

“Oh, God.” She threw off her blanket. “Give me your phone.”

He shifted to his hip, removed his cell from his back pocket, and handed it to her. She punched at the keypad and waited. Finally, her call was answered.

“Dad, I need my passport. I don't even know if it's valid anymore and I need it to go with Juan to Germany.” She rolled her eyes at Juan. “No, I don't have time to do it myself.”

Juan waved his hand. “Dana. I can — ”

She stuck her finger in front of his face. “Yes. Just have her send it to the hotel. Thank you, Daddy.”

She returned Juan's phone to him. “Daddy will get my passport to me. I forgot all about needing it. Actually, I never thought you'd take me to Germany, but I'm excited. I've never been to the Olympics. I wonder what the opening ceremony will be like?”

“Hang on a minute, babe. Let's get something straight first.” He scooted back on the couch. “We're married.”

She nodded. “I know that. I won't tell anyone differently.”

“Okay. You're not getting me.” He tightened his lips over his teeth. “I'm your husband.”

“Duh.” She laughed.

“New rule. You don't run to your dad every time you need something. That's my job.” He kicked off his sneakers.

“But he does all the important things for me. You don't understand our relationship. He believes I'm incapable of running my own life, and I like it that way. Granted, I push him away, but if I don't ask him to do the little things, he'll realize I'm more valuable than he thinks I am right now, and he'll put more demands on me to stay in the company. As it is, if I let him think I'm incompetent, it … well, it buys me more time to plan my life without his interference.” She sank back into the corner of the couch. “You'd have to know him to understand our screwed up relationship. Trust me.”

“Maybe, but as a man, I won't have my girl asking her father for help. That's my job, and for you to go behind my back makes me appear weak and without the balls to stand up to my wife.” He pinned her with a look. “I have balls.”

She snorted. “You're very chivalrous, aren't you?”

“There's nothing wrong with wanting to take care of the woman I care about,” he said.

She swallowed. “But we're only pretending to be married.”

Juan studied her without answering. She dropped her gaze, grabbing the ends of her hair and separating them into individual strands.
If
they were married, she'd want her husband to help her.
If
they loved each other, she'd want to do as much for him as he did for her.
If
they … she tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“Okay. I'll come to you first when I have a problem,” she said.

His eyes softened, and he remained silent. He gave his acceptance without rubbing it in her face that she let him have his way. Warmth filled her and she shared a grin with Juan. Not once in her life had she ever received such quiet approval. She'd always had to guess if Jace was truly happy with her, because he neither showed nor told her what he was feeling. The lack of communication drove her nuts, but she'd convinced herself it was for the best. Usually, she worked her butt off trying to please everyone, and fell short.