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Authors: Kat Latham

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BOOK: Playing It Close
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No kidding. She barely had time to flatten herself against the wall before the first players from the opposition jogged past her, leaving a puff of sweaty air in their wake. The cement beneath her feet trembled as they ran past.

And there was Liam, leading his team off the pitch as he’d led them on forty minutes ago. He was already looking at her by the time she found him. His tight shirt clung to his damp skin, defining every muscle. His short white shorts and long, thick thighs were stained with mud, blood and grass, evidence of a hard-fought match. As he passed, he glanced down at her chest and gave her a little smug smile that made her girl parts clench. Why was he checking out her chest? Was it her Legends jersey—or a not-so-subtle reminder that he’d seen beneath her shirt? Either way, the effect was the same. She was off-kilter, palm pressed against the cool concrete of the tunnel wall as she watched him disappear around the corner to the changing room.

God, how could she still want him so badly? Their time together in Venezuela had been magical, like a break from reality, but everything that had happened since had simply reminded her that she didn’t belong in his world. If she’d had any question, watching her dining companions’ faces as Samantha Hughes described the nude scene she’d just shot would have answered it.

Tess glanced down at her chest.
You
,
my dears
,
would never inspire that kind of attention
,
I’m sorry to say.

Maybe it was time to fix that. Maybe it was time to explore item number five on her ways-to-change-my-life list. The pink hair hadn’t worked out for her, but maybe more drastic measures would.

“Tess? It’s time.”

She tore herself from daydreams of having a decent rack and followed Gerry out to the middle of the pitch. The little kids who’d been playing touch rugby were all packing up their equipment and following their coaches off.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat for you. Our newest sponsor, Kijani Adventures, offers guilt-free holidays for families, couples and intrepid explorers,” Gerry read from a card into his hand-held mic. “Whether you’re looking for a tailor-made luxury holiday at an eco-lodge that’s committed to doing more good than harm, or you’re eager to wander off the beaten track, Kijani Adventures is the tour company for you. At all of our home matches this season, the lovely Tess from Kijani Adventures will join me to give away a weekend break to one of our lucky supporters. Tess, why don’t you tell us what you’re giving away today and how we’ll choose a winner?”

Gerry handed Tess the mic. Her fingers tingled with adrenaline as she took in the thousands of faces surrounding her. At least they were far away. During the inquiry, crowds of journalists and photographers had followed her in and out of the courtroom, pushing so close she’d been in danger of passing out from lack of oxygen.

“Thank you, Gerry.” Her voice boomed through the speakers, so she moderated it. “Um, thank you. That’s right—today we have an extra-special getaway for you. Four nights in a French villa, just a few steps from the Mediterranean. The villa grows all of its own food and produces its own solar energy, and we’ll even throw in tickets for the train, so you don’t need to pollute the air with a short-haul flight. I’ll randomly draw a seat number, and that person just has to kick a penalty to claim the prize. Ready, everyone?”

Ready or not, Tess was part of the Legends team now.

That made Liam her captain—and completely off-limits.

* * *

“And today’s Man of the Match is...Liam Callaghan!”

The announcer’s voice made the tiniest dent in Liam’s concentration. Less than a minute left in the match and he was squirting water in his mouth, while medics attended one of Exeter’s players who’d been knocked out and swallowed his tongue. The match would resume shortly, with Legends two points down and deep into Exeter’s territory.

Medics helped the Exeter player walk off the pitch while his replacement ran on to try to earn a few seconds of glory. The two teams took their positions. The forwards from each team gripped each other, bending down on the referee’s command, and then slammed their shoulders into the opposing side, each side trying to drive the other back with pure physical power while using their feet to gain possession of the ball. Liam and the other backs spread out across the pitch, but the play was obvious. With barely any time remaining in the game, Liam’s right boot was their only shot at winning.

Yes
. Legends gained control. With a titanic shove, they shunted the Exeter pack off the ball. Their number 8 scooped it up and charged infield, shaking off a handful of would-be tacklers before finally being brought to ground in front of the posts. In a second or two, with characteristic precision, Ash fizzed the ball directly into Liam’s waiting hands. Liam let muscle memory do the rest, drop-kicking the ball right between the posts.

Legends 24, Exeter 23.

Victory. Adrenaline flooded him, a different quality than the kind that kept him revved up during the match. Euphoria. Endorphins. No better feeling than winning a match. Nothing came close.

Waterfall.

Okay, maybe one thing had come close. He’d tried to forget that she would be here today, but the thought had been damn near impossible to push from his mind. When he’d run off the pitch at halftime, he’d known where she was standing without even having to look. So why had he looked?

Probably the same reason he played rugby. Sometimes the pain was worth the rush. And seeing Tess in his shirt? A bigger rush than he’d expected.

Liam shook hands with the Exeter players and jogged over to the side of the pitch, where Ruth stood in the press area. Lavinia, a pretty journalist from one of the sports networks, waited for him, but when he got closer he found Tess right next to her, gripping a bottle of champagne as if she were trying to strangle it. Damn it. She was too cute in that Legends jersey, looking all nervous and unsure of herself. He knew secrets about her no one else would ever suspect, considering her conservative hairstyle and buttoned-up posture. He’d struggled to scrub those secrets from his memory ever since he’d discovered she would be part of his working life.

“Great match, Liam,” Lavinia said with a big smile. She said it without raising the mic, so they must not be on-air yet.

“Cheers, Vinnie. Tough one.”

She held up a finger. “Say no more till we’re on.” With a glance at her cameraman, she nodded at something that came through her earpiece, then turned to him again. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

She positioned herself to face the camera and put on her broadcasting voice. “That’s right, Robin. I’m here with Liam Callaghan, Legends captain and today’s Man of the Match. Congratulations, Liam.”

“Thank you, Lavinia.” He put an extra dose of charm behind the words, inordinately pleased at how Tess’s nostrils flared. If she gripped that champagne bottle any tighter, it would shatter. Her hands had a good strong grip—he knew that from experience.

“You were down by twelve at the half. What did you say to the lads to get them to come out fighting?”

He’d been doing this for so long he didn’t need to use even half his brain to answer. He used the free half to watch Tess. She stared at his chest, his abs, the players behind him. Anyone else would think she was bored, but he knew better. He knew she was a fan, so he made a facetious comment that only a die-hard Legends fan would get and watched her try to hide her smile.

When he first discovered her lies, he’d been furious. He’d slept with his fair share of groupies before he’d been named captain, but he’d always known that was what he was doing. With Tess, he’d thought he’d found something more, so her lie became a cutting betrayal, a deception that left him feeling like a fool. But now...now the shock had worn off, but judging by his sleepless nights, the lust hadn’t.

Lavinia wrapped up the interview. “Congratulations again, Liam Callaghan, Man of the Match.”

She nodded toward Tess, who seemed stuck inside her own head, or maybe mesmerized by his chest. He cleared his throat, holding his hand out, but she just blinked and looked at him blankly until Lavinia nudged her with her elbow.

“Oh! Sorry.” Tess grimaced and handed him the champagne bottle.

Lavinia let her mic drop to her side. “Liam, always a pleasure.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, Vinnie.” He grinned at her and stepped away so she could get back to work. As he passed Tess, he snagged the sleeve of her shirt between his thumb and forefinger, dragging her with him. She stumbled a little, but righted herself quickly and walked alongside him off the pitch.

“How was your first match as a sponsor?”

She started, as if she was surprised he was talking to her. He was a little surprised himself. “Uh, it was quite good. Very good, I mean. Well done on winning. Great drop goal there at the end.”

He acknowledged her with a small nod. “Must be fairly difficult, having to remember to hand the Man of the Match his champagne at the end of the interview.”

“Well, you know, it
is
a major responsibility. That’s why Charlie entrusted me with it. I can always be counted on to tackle the really important projects.”

“Is that a hint of frustration I hear?”

“Perceptive. Anyway, I didn’t think you were speaking to me. Not when we’re alone, anyway.”

They approached the sideline, where the team celebrated. He leaned down close so only she would hear him. “No choice. It’s my job.”

That stopped her dead in her tracks, leaving him free to jog to his team and celebrate with them. Victory suddenly felt hollow, though, after seeing the flash of hurt he’d inflicted. He hadn’t felt like this big of a dick since...well, since the night he’d humiliated her at the raw foods restaurant. She’d brought out the best in him in Venezuela. Now she seemed to be bringing out the worst.

She lied to you.

But somehow the words had lost the power they’d had when he first found out.

You lied too
,
mate.

And that didn’t seem to matter, either. He wanted her. No point in denying it, even though he just had, telling her that the only reason he was speaking to her was because he was obliged to do so.

She was his sponsor. Like it or not, they worked together now. He needed to get himself under control before he did something he couldn’t recover from.

Chapter Eleven

“How’d it go on Saturday?”

Charlie perched against the edge of Tess’s desk, cradling a package wrapped in plain white paper that was leaking white liquid.

“Uh, fine. Yeah. Crowd got really excited when I told them about the special code for ten percent off their next holiday booking. Lots of them seemed to get out their phones, but that might’ve just been because it was halftime. I don’t know if any of them did anything about it.”

Charlie rocked a little, his legs bouncing with excitement. “Our web traffic spiked four hundred percent, Tessy. Ten people booked overseas holidays with that code by Saturday night and a few more yesterday. I’m hoping several more are talking it over with their families and will pull the trigger sometime this week. It’s working. It’s really working.”

“That’s fantastic. I’m so pleased. But, um, your package is dripping.”

He glanced down in horror at his crotch, then at the thing he held. “Oh! The falafel. Here, I bought this for your lunch.” He cleared a space on her desk and set it down. “I’ll get you some kitchen roll for the mess. They put a lot of yogurt dressing in it. And I ordered extra peppers on the side so you can burn a hole through whatever’s left of your stomach lining.”

She tore into the bag and revealed an overstuffed falafel in pita sandwich. The delightful smells of grease, coriander and pickles hit her. This must be what manna smelled like to the Israelites. “Oh, you beauty! To what do I owe this honor?”

“Well, I really appreciate what you’ve done for us so far. I hope you’re enjoying the matches. What’s the hospitality box like? I’m picturing free booze, massages...”

She nodded and tucked in to the food, taking a huge bite. Lebanese spices exploded over her tongue. The peppers burned and the yogurt cooled while the fried balls of ground chickpeas added just the right crunch. “Mmm, it’s great. God, this is delishhis.”

Charlie held up a hand. “That’s all right. Don’t try to talk while you eat. Just listen to me for a second.”

Uh-oh. Her I-need-a-favor meter went
ding.
She swallowed and took another big bite, certain she was about to be put off her lunch by whatever he said.

“I need a favor.”

“Reeeally?” she murmured. “Quelle surprise.”

“Xander was supposed to go to this Legends promo shoot we’ve got lined up, but he’s got norovirus and can’t get off the toilet.”

Grimacing, Tess dropped her falafel onto its bag. “Aaand I’m done. Cheers for that.”

“Sorry. Anyway, I need you to go in his place to make sure it’s the kind of promo we want.”

“Are you kidding? Charlie, he’s the art director. What the hell do I know about art?” She ticked items off on her fingers. “I know it’s kept in museums. I know I avoid museums because they’re boring. And I know that the lowest-ever mark I received in school was in my art class. Xander can’t do simple addition, and I don’t know shit about art. What on God’s green earth could I possibly be Xander’s substitute for?”

“Legends are doing their calendar photo shoot tomorrow. I’ve convinced them to go with an exotic holiday theme this year, since we’re sponsoring the calendar. Our logo will be all over it, so I need someone there to make sure it’s tasteful.”

Good thing she’d put the falafel down or she would’ve choked. “Tasteful? You’re not talking about their annual naked calendar, are you?”

“That’s the one.”

“Let me get this straight. You want me to go to a naked photo shoot and ensure it’s tastefully done?”

“That’s about it, yes.”

She rolled her eyes. “And I thought investment bankers expected miracles.”

* * *

Tess couldn’t resist looking online for Liam’s previous calendar shots. Purely for professional reasons, obviously. Still, not wanting to risk her job by typing
Liam Callaghan naked
into her work computer, she used her personal phone—and good thing, because dozens of photos popped onto her screen showing Liam in various states of undress. Liam standing on the pitch looking totally unconcerned after his shorts had been ripped off in a tackle. Liam lying on his side smiling down at the topless Brazilian model he’d been linked to briefly. Liam laughing with his teammates in a changing room as a photographer captured his bare arse in black and white. The only thing Tess knew about art: if a photo was shot in black and white then it was art, not porn.

BOOK: Playing It Close
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