Playing for Hearts (56 page)

An older man with gray hair, wearing a suit and tie, cleared his throat. “Make that three units, and we'll take a case of twin tips. The snowboarders of the past are discovering they like the mobility of free style skiing.”

“Excellent.” Dana wrote on the clipboard. “I'll rush the order for you, and have them to you in less than a week.”

Juan stepped over and sat down, staying out of the way. Dana laughed and invited conversation while she filled out orders, and shook everyone's hands. The more Juan viewed her in her element, the more he wondered why she settled for selling clothes and equipment in the lodge, when she should be high up in her daddy's company. A natural saleswoman, she sold thousands of dollars of ski equipment every day.

He nodded at the men as they exited the lodge. Curious about the side of his wife she never showed him, he sat back and watched her clean up from her presentation. She organized the models and paperwork, and had her two suitcases packed in precisely three minutes. Then she removed her cell and put in the order personally, with the threat that if her customers didn't have the equipment in their hands within four days, she'd personally deliver them herself. He leaned back and crossed his ankles. She was a bulldog.

After Dana made sure everything was understood by the person on the other end of the phone, she said, “Throw in fifty of our new double layered helmets in a mix of sizes. Take it off my wages.” She paused reaching for the suitcase. “No, do not clear that with my father. Go to HR and if they have a problem with the billing, they know where to reach me.”

Surprised by her generosity, and wondering why she'd use her own money to benefit the Reese Company, Juan stood and crossed the room.

Dana slipped the phone in her pocket, hefted the bags, and turned around. Her mouth formed the cute little circle she'd often get if he surprised her, and then she caught herself and smiled.

“Hey you,” she said. “How long have you been down here?”

He took her bags from her. “A few minutes. Are you wanting these downstairs or in your room?”

“Downstairs.” She walked beside him. “Thanks.”

Juan took the stairs. All the lights were out on the first floor underneath the lobby, because the vendors had closed shop hours ago. He waited until Dana flipped the switch and then followed her to the shop. Within minutes, he had everything put away, and she ushered him back out the door.

As they walked together to the elevator, he linked his finger with hers. “Good day?”

She shrugged. “A long day.”

Once he reached their room, he pulled off his coat and removed his shirt. Dana stood beside him, watching. She blinked up at him. The naked lust in her eyes weakened him.

“I'm going to take a shower,” he muttered.

He left her standing in the living room and went to his bedroom. Worn out and edgy, his body reacted to Dana instantly, a constant pleasure and torment lately. Whether she watched television, dried her hair, or poured cereal in a bowl, his body hardened. Every breath she took, he watched for her exhale. She'd perfected the simple act of putting oxygen into her body to an erotic art form.

For the last week, he'd become intimate with cold showers. They saved his life and killed him at the same time. He stepped under the spray, quickly washed, shampooed, and hopped out. Freezing his balls off couldn't stop his mind from continuing to think of what it would feel to have Dana underneath him, naked, and squeezing his body.

He hurried out to the living room, hoping to beat Dana to the couch. Maybe if he stretched out, she'd take the chair. Desperate times called for sneaky tricks. He was weak and at his lowest. He'd never be able to turn her down tonight.

The lights were out when he stepped into the front room. He frowned, looking at the fireplace. The fire was lit and the television was off. He swung his gaze across the room.
Shit.

Dana sat curled at the end of the couch, wearing his “Ski or Go Home” sweatshirt and nothing on her legs. His lungs compressed and he fought for breath. Her bare legs were tucked underneath her, and he had a feeling she wore red panties. Because he'd already seen blue stripes, pink dots, white lace, and a slinky black thong that sent him to hyperventilating, he figured she'd wear red and kill him outright.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

“I went to the lounge earlier and grabbed a club sandwich.” She straightened. “Did you want me to order you something to eat?”

“No, I'm good.” He sat in the chair, yawning. “I'm wiped.”

“Hard day at practice?” She propped her elbow on the arm of the couch.

“Intense.” He rolled his shoulder. “The closer we get to Germany, the more Coach pushes us. We doubled up on runs. By the time I hit the last landing, it felt like I weighed twice as much or I hit bare ground.”

Dana stood and walked toward him. “I can tell you've been stressed lately.”

She moved around him. He closed his eyes. She had no idea his tension came from something else … her.

Hands landed on his shoulders. He flinched and opened his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Relax, Amante Español.” She squeezed her hands, massaging his muscles. “I'm good with my hands. I'll rub the tension out of you, and then maybe you'll be able to sleep tonight.”

He winched. “I sleep.”

“No, you don't.” She dug her thumbs into the cords of his neck. “I've heard you up at night.”

She had him there. He dropped his chin to his chest. His muscles cried in joy at her manipulations. Whatever she was doing to his upper back worked. The stiffness in his shoulder eased.

Her fingers kneaded and stroked, caressing the tautness out of him. The hell with sleeping in a bed, he was going to sit right here and let her rub on him all night.

Sometime later, he realized her hands lost their strength, and Dana settled on rubbing her hands over his shoulders, down his arms, and up again. His balls tightened every time her hair brushed his bare skin. He raised his head, and came instantly alert.

When she put a kiss on his neck, he lost all control and stood. “I'm going to bed.”

“What? Now?” She stood in the middle of the room, cupping her elbows in her hands.

“I have an early morning. I'll be gone by the time you get up, and after practice, I'm going out with T.T.” The lies rolled off his tongue, and he backed toward the hallway. “'Night, Dana. Thanks for the backrub.”

He locked himself in his bedroom and stared at the bed. Even the piece of furniture reminded him of what and who he'd left in the other room. As soon as he got the annulment, he was going to take Dana to bed for a week straight, until he worked her out of his system.

A door slammed. He lay down on his back and stared at the ceiling. Rustling came from Dana's room, and he damned himself to hell. He was an asshole.

She needed someone who would give her the attention she deserved. Instead, she was stuck with him. He wanted her worse than he wanted the gold medal, but even he had integrity. She'd only end up hating him if he slept with her. A divorce would ruin both their lives.

His disappointment in himself burned a hole in his gut. And he had no idea how to fix their problem. He couldn't send her away until after Germany and the way he wanted her, he wasn't sure he could send her away even then.

A soft click came to him. He bolted into a sitting position and cocked his head, straining to hear where the sound came from. He almost talked himself into imagining the noise when it happened again. This time from farther away.

Hurrying across the room, he threw open the door and found Dana's bedroom open. He walked over and turned on the light.

“Dana?” He walked inside her room and peered around, and then peeked in the bathroom. “Where are you?”

Not finding her, he walked out into the main part of the suite. There was a note on the table.

J — Don't worry, I'll stay away from the suite while you're here. Get your rest. D

What the fuck? He tossed the paper, and marched back to his room. His wife was not going to be out all night by herself just because he needed space.

He shoved his feet into the legs of his jeans. Anything could happen to her out there by herself. He'd find her, and bring her back.

Dana acted without thinking out her plan. All she knew was she needed to get out of the suite before she started a huge dramatic fight with Juan. Hurt and embarrassed, she wanted to lick her wounds in private.

She understood Juan's reasoning behind keeping his distance. He wanted an annulment and to continue the no sex rule. She didn't like it, but she respected his decision. The only thing she could do was make herself scarce, and that's why she'd left the suite.

It sucked.

Call her emotional, but would sex really make that much of a difference now that they knew each other so well? She walked into the lounge, desperate to find a corner and hide out for a couple of hours until Juan was asleep for the night.

Before she could make her escape, T.T. and Joe spotted her and dragged her to the dance floor. She leaned forward. “I'm not here to party.”

“What?” T.T. grabbed her hand and twirled her around to Joe.

She grabbed on to Joe's arm. “I don't want to dance.”

“Sure you do.” Joe kept her pinned between him and T.T.

She danced between the two of them, wondering how she was going to lie her way out of hanging with them without them knowing she'd run out on Juan.

Joe swiped a drink off the passing waiter and handed the glass to Dana with a wink. Used to his twitch, she smiled her thanks. He wasn't flirting. He had a long-term girlfriend back home.

“What's keeping Juan?” T.T. asked over the music playing.

She leaned forward. “Tired … I came down to have a drink because I couldn't sleep.”

“Bullshit.” Joe patted his pocket and pulled out his cell. “He's not that much older than we are, he can handle one night out before things get serious. I'll call him and tell him to get his ass down here.”

She grabbed his hand. “No. Don't.”

T.T. hooked his hand around her elbow and pulled her off the dance floor. He led her to the back, down the hallway, and set her against the wall across from the bathrooms.

“What's going on?” T.T. planted both his hands on each side of her, pinning her to the wall. “Is he in trouble?”

“No … ” She laughed to cover the real reason why she'd had to run from the apartment.

“I know you don't know me very well, but Juan's part of the team. I want him competing beside me. If he's doing something he shouldn't be, I need to know before Coach Lindhurst finds out.” T.T. lowered his voice. “You can trust me. If he needs help, I'm there for him.”

She chewed on her lip. “He's fine, really.”

“Obviously something is going on, because I never got the feeling that Juan's the type of man to let his woman come down by herself when eighty percent of the people in the lounge are men.” T.T. glanced down. “Why don't I walk you back up to your room?”

“No, please,” she said. “God, I hate this.”

T.T. frowned. “Let me help.”

“You don't understand. Juan and I, we're — ”

“Married.” Juan spoke behind T.T.

Dana groaned. How could a girl find privacy in a hotel?

“Hey.” T.T put his hand out to Juan.

Juan fisted his hand, brought back his arm, and swung through the air. Dana screamed as understanding of what Juan was going to do dawned on her. Joe came from behind them and tackled Juan, knocking him into the wall before his fist met T.T.'s face.

“Get off me.” Juan pushed Joe away and scrambled to his feet.

“What the hell is going on?” T.T. grabbed Juan's shirt.

Juan pushed T.T.'s hands away and glared. “Don't touch me. Don't touch my wife.”

Dana moved between them. “Stop. You're only going to get hurt, and it's the last thing either of you need.”

Both men ignored her, and continued to challenge each other in a death stare. Juan hooked her waist and set her behind him. She grasped his shirt, afraid he was going to start a fight.

“Juan, please, stop. Don't get into trouble because of me. Let's go up to the room,” she said.

“Want to tell me why you had my wife up against the wall in the hallway?” Juan stepped forward, chest to chest with T.T.

“Do you want to tell me why you're willing to risk your career by fighting?” T.T. shot back.

Several seconds passed. Dana held her breath. She wanted to do something to explain what had happened, but the situation was her fault to start with.

“Babe?” Juan mumbled. “Go up to the room. I'll be there after I talk to T.T.”

He left her no room to argue. She scurried out from behind him and hurried down the hall. Maybe with her out of the way, the other guys could talk Juan down from whatever place he'd gone to when he found her with T.T.

Inside the suite, she paced. Uneducated on what to do when a man was about to fight over her, she picked up the hotel phone. Then she slammed the receiver back down. Who was she going to call? Laundry service?

She found her purse where she'd tossed it on the table and pulled out her cell phone. Daddy would know what to do. She pushed the button and groaned. All he'd do was inform her how she failed, and her latest disaster was all her fault.

She turned off the phone. Daddy would never believe her anyway. No man had ever fought over her.

A happy sigh escaped, surprising her. She sank down in the chair, a stupid grin on her face. Juan had followed her and actually punched T.T. to save her. Well, he'd never connected, but if Joe hadn't tackled him, Juan totally would've kicked T.T.'s ass.
Over me.

She squee'd. For him to fight for her meant everything.

The door opened. She ran and jumped at Juan. He caught her as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. She kissed him on the cheeks, the forehead, the chin. He'd given her so many firsts in her life, and fighting for her hit the top of the list. She'd never forget this moment.