Power Play (Crimson Romance) (12 page)

Though his blue eyes slid away from hers, his tone was jaunty. “All the more reason for us to try again.”

Irritation hardened her clear features. “Chris, let me get this straight for the first and last time. That night was a mistake. I was wrong to lean on you and I was wrong to think I could get back at Cahal by acting the way he had acted. Sleeping with you didn’t make me feel strong or glad; it made me feel weak and mean.” Taking a hitching breath, she ground her meaning home. “If I had one wish, it would be to take that night back.”

Hurt mingled with shock. “You can’t mean that.”

“I can and I do. I lowered myself to Cahal’s level. I compromised my integrity and yours.”

A big hand lifted off of the steering wheel, coming to cover hers as they lay in her lap.

“How can I compromise my integrity by sleeping with the woman I love?”

The suspicion that had been crouching in the back of her thoughts since that night with Cahal, waiting for a chance to spring, leaped into sudden action.

“Love?” She repeated the word, tasting it and finding it alien and distasteful in this context.

His fingers tensed over hers; his expression was far from his usual control. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

She’d never seen him look so unguarded — not even on that night a year ago. “Do you mean it?”

Again his eyes skittered away. “Look, can we forget it?”

“Chris … ”

He lifted his hand and raised his head to show her a familiar face, good-humored and self-mocking.

“Leave it, okay, Lila?”

Her hand fumbled with the door, the cold air touching her face like a welcomed caress. “Okay. I’ll see you.”

He smiled as she stepped out of the truck. “You can bet on it.”

Lila didn’t mention his cousin’s visit to her husband yet she found herself trying to make up for the omission in a dozen little ways. She went to team practices, chatting with the other wives and admiring their children. Taking on a greater role in the charity gala gave her excuses to be away from the house when Cahal was home.

She posed for several hundred photographs with Cahal, all set against the background of their condo, decorated for the holiday season. A few of the photographs would accompany the team’s holiday publicity packages and one of them would be used for the upcoming calendar: the perfect hockey family celebrating the happiest season of the year. Perhaps next year, one of the photographer’s assistants hinted, there would be a little Wallace to complete the picture.

Although she spent most of her time away from work watching her husband play or pose, she managed to avoid any conversation more intimate than a coordination of their respective schedules.

When the phone calls began, Cahal was on the road so she put the matter in the hands of the security staff he had hired. As long as they were going to follow her every day to work and back and even to the grocery store, she might as well utilize their services. Her husband made it clear that they wouldn’t be dismissed and experience showed her that they couldn’t be avoided though she was surprised at her bodyguards’ discretion. Despite her fears, no one told Cahal about Chris.

Chris had called a few times in the week since his visit but Lila was always conveniently unavailable.

Lila’s cell phone went off in her purse and she dug it out only to grimace at the tiny display.

“Another unknown caller?”

Nodding, she surrendered the phone to the man in the back seat of the SUV. To her astonishment, he flipped open the cell phone and held it to his ear.

“Who is this?”

Lila could hear no response to the harsh question.

The bodyguard’s voice dropped lower. “Listen, lady, this is a dangerous game you’re playing. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll end it right here before it turns out bad for everyone concerned. Especially you.”

Again there seemed to be no response but the man snapped the phone shut with a satisfied expression.

Lila swiveled as far as her seat belt would allow. “Do you think it was her?”

“Has to be,” the man replied. “But she didn’t hang on long enough for a trace.”

“You’re monitoring my phone calls?”

It was the driver who answered. “Yes, ma’am. Those were your husband’s orders.”

Lila crossed her arms over the front of her coat. “I’m still not convinced it’s Victoria.”

“You don’t have to be convinced,” the man told her. “Your husband is convinced enough for both of you.”

• • •

“Hey, baby.”

“Hi.” Lila allowed the kiss her husband pressed against her closed mouth but she made no move to return it.

He swept his eyes over her shuttered face. “What’s the matter?”

Conscious of the constant traffic of his teammates around them, Lila said, “Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

She shrugged. “Your security guys can fill you in.”

Taking her by the shoulders, he drew her into a quiet corner. “Did you receive another phone call?”

Lila nodded, the concern in his voice making her emotional.

He drew her close and the strong comfort of his body eased some of her tension. “I’m so sorry, darling. Instead of sending her a message, our reconciliation seems to have caused Victoria to switch her tactics.”

Lila sniffed. “I still don’t think she’s dangerous.”

There was less conviction in her words than when she had made the same statement several weeks ago. The kind of person who could spend time making a half dozen phone calls every day to someone who wanted nothing to do with her made her uneasy.

“If her focus is you, she’s dangerous enough,” Cahal commented. He paused for a full minute before saying, “I saw her at the game last night.”

Lila drew away from his comforting shelter. “Last night? In Buffalo?”

“Yeah.” His eyes focused on a spot above her head. “As far as I know, it’s the first time she’s followed the team on the road. According to our security detail, she’s attended every home game the team has played and all of the practices that happen to be open to the public. I’ve filed for a restraining order.”

It was an outcome she knew he had tried to avoid. A court case would mean publicity of the kind Cahal hated, salacious and career defining in the worst possible sense.

“I’m sorry.” The mention of a restraining order brought home the seriousness of his situation. Their situation.

“This restraining order will cover you as well.” His gaze found her again and a tight frown marred his beautiful mouth. “I shouldn’t have gotten you involved.”

“It was a less painful solution,” Lila recalled, finding herself justifying his actions. “If it had worked and Victoria had returned to Chicago, everyone would have been happy.”

“Then you would be free to marry Jarrett.”

In spite of the surge of unwilling sympathy, Lila clamped her lips down against informing him of the true circumstances of her relationship with Jack Jarrett. The other man’s ghost was still an effective wall against her tumultuous feelings for her husband and with few defenses left, she was forced to cling to that one.

Cahal watched her face closely as he added, “Or Chris.”

Lila flushed, calling herself every kind of fool for believing she could hide anything from him.

“You were right about your cousin.”

The frown deepened into a grimace. “Believe me, that offers no comfort. What happened?”

But Lila merely shook her head. She wasn’t ready to tell that story quite yet.

“What happens with the security detail now?”

He accepted the change in topic with a narrowed look. “Nothing. They stay in place until Victoria leaves.”

“Or until you get that restraining order,” she suggested, anxious to call off the bodyguards dogging her every move. The feeling of being shadowed everywhere she went was almost as bad as the idea of Victoria Brantford lurking in the bushes.

A swift shake of the head dashed her hopes. “No doubt the local police are efficient but they can always use a helping hand to enforce the court’s measures. Better to err on the side of caution.”

Someone in the distance called his name.

“I have to go now. Stay with Brian and Mike.”

She accepted another kiss, this one aimed at her forehead. “Like I have a choice.”

• • •

Cahal wanted her to stay with his father, three hours west of the city, but Lila had no intention of interrupting George Wallace’s life with his new spouse and children and she doubted that George would be eager to put his family in harm’s way.

Lila remained in the city, forming a solid nucleus around which her husband and his hired security guards circled like uncertain moths.

The anonymous calls ceased but, of course, they had seized her cellular phone, presenting her with a new one the next day. Though it was state-of-the-art and slim enough to slide into the front of a pair of jeans, no one had thought of loading her old saved phone numbers into the new phone and Lila spent a painstaking hour doing just that, her old address book in one hand and an instruction manual for the new cell phone in the other.

She left Jack’s number off of the new phone.

Lila took on all of the overtime the library could offer and heading into the Christmas season, with stories and signings and the annual visit from Santa to be organized, there was plenty of work. The evenings and weekends stretched out longer. The library offered those shifts to part-time employees, retired people and students, and Lila couldn’t infringe on these schedules. Hanging around the library outside of her working time would be viewed as strange.

The only other outlet for her restless energy was the Wives and Girlfriends where Cathy and other women greeted her.

Lila couldn’t fault the women for being suspicious. Aside from her sudden switch in roles, from Jack Jarrett’s girlfriend to Cahal Wallace’s wife, she was also guilty of being the spouse of the highest paid and most famous member of the team, a position guaranteed to create some amount of turmoil and jealousy.

• • •

“What about the marketing of the party?” someone asked, taking advantage of Cathy’s brief silence. “Are we doing a radio campaign or television commercials as well?”

Everyone looked at Lila.

“Well,” she said, “in Chicago we always sold out with a good solid radio campaign and some Internet and print advertising on the official websites and so on. Of course, the radio campaign should include every one of the players doing a guest appearance on at least one of the local shows, preferably during the morning hour. Most people pay the greatest attention to those shows.”

The women swiveled their heads to look back to Cathy.

“That sounds like a good idea,” the blonde woman agreed. “We don’t have the budget for a television campaign. But are Internet ads necessary?”

“Not ads,” Lila corrected. “Announcements on the local community websites and on the team’s official site as well as the individual players’ websites. The key is not to go overboard. This event is still fairly select — the prices we charge for the dinner itself is mostly out of the average fan’s price range — and we want to keep up that aura of exclusivity.”

Cathy’s brows arched. “Oh, do we?”

Knowing how these groups worked, Lila backed down. “That is, I thought you mentioned something like that when we spoke the other day, Cath. It made a lot of sense.”

The other woman again took firm control of the meeting. With the last of the jobs delegated among the spouses, the only issue to be determined was the prizes to be given out.

“A date is still a great hook,” one of the women suggested. “What’s a bigger draw than a private dinner
a deux
with one of the most famous athletes in the world?”

“They should come home to see one of our family dinners,” another wife muttered. “Four kids, one of them invariably sick, a dog-tired husband and an exciting menu of tuna casserole and frozen vegetables.”

“You know, you can cook those vegetables before you serve them,” Nadia Ivanov laughed before turning back to the first woman. “I agree with Diane. A bachelor auction may be impossible with our team list, but one date wouldn’t be offensive.”

They were thinking, of course, of the team’s owners, the ultimate arbitrators of any decision concerning the franchise.

“One date is fine.” Cathy made the final decision. “But with which player?”

The women ran down the line-up. An amazing twenty-five players were married. Another handful were living in common-law unions or in long-term relationships with their girlfriends.

“Two players?” The wives were incredulous. “That’s all we have to work with?”

The two names weren’t very promising either.

“Karpetsky is an antisocial troll,” Nadia pronounced. “He wouldn’t agree to take part in a million years and even if he did, we would probably end up having to give the poor woman who won her money back once the date was finished.”

“That leaves … uh … Jack Jarrett.”

Most of the women made a desperate attempt to fix their eyes on something other than Lila.

Forcing a laugh, she said, “Don’t rule him out on my account. Why don’t we ask Jack to participate? I know he won’t turn down a charity.”

“He is attractive,” Cathy mused aloud, “in a rugged outdoorsy kind of way. Not gorgeous but definitely not the worst the team has to offer. He’s popular — ”

“With the male fans,” someone else pointed out.

“And he stays out of trouble off the ice,” Cathy finished.

“Except for this latest predicament” must have been the unspoken addition each woman made to herself, although the media with its characteristic fickleness had failed to play up that angle of Cahal Wallace’s reconciliation with his wife. On the sports and gossip pages, the story was a mixture between a fairy tale and a romantic film with no hint of soap opera melodrama.

As the final decision was made to name Jack Jarrett as the headline attraction of the Christmas charity event, Lila’s new cell phone rang.

She couldn’t help switching it on, waiting to hear the familiar silence that signaled a crank call. When the bodyguard had handed it to her earlier, she hadn’t even wanted to take it, afraid of the small electronic device as if it had the power to hurt her.