Scored (17 page)

“Nicky, I just wondered if maybe we could, you know.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I just wondered if you would like to go out on a proper date with me. You know, once we get back to Donetsk?”

“Phil I—”

“Or when we get back to England. Whatever suits you,” he said quickly.

“Phil, listen.” The earnestness in his voice had tugged my heartstrings. But I couldn’t go out with him. Not when Lewis filled my every waking thought, not to mention my physical need for him was reaching critical levels. “I would love to, but…” I rested my other hand over the top of his.

“But what? We get on really well, have loads in common and bloody hell.” He swept his gaze over me. “You’re bloody gorgeous, I would be so proud to have you on my arm.”

“But I can’t go out with you. I’m…I’m seeing someone.” There, I’d said it. It was out in the open. I was officially off the market.

“Oh, I didn’t realize.” He glanced down at our joined hands. “Who?”

I hesitated. “Er, no one you know.”

He huffed. “Not the homeless guy?”

My stomach clenched. What was Phil getting at? I’d thought he was being genuine, but was he digging for information again?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said.

He let go of my hand, sat back and smiled. “Well one thing is for sure, he’s one hell of a lucky guy.”

“I’m sorry, Phil. I do like you, a lot, and if I wasn’t—”

He held up his hand. “Hey, no apologies. I would think less of you if you cheated on him, and I would hate to think less of you. It’s just a case of wrong place at the wrong time for me.”

“I guess so, because really, you’re a sweet bloke. I would have, if I wasn’t seeing…him.”

“Him? Doesn’t he have a name?”

“Er, yes, Peter.”

“Peter what?”

“Peter Piper.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

He laughed.

“Don’t be mean about my boyfriend,” I said, barely able to suppress a grin. Where the hell had Peter Piper come from?

“That’s a really silly name. Didn’t his parent like him or something?”

“Of course they did. It’s just…”
Seriously?

“It just sounds like a made up name.” His grin dropped and he studied me closely.

“Well it’s not.” I pulled at the handle and opened the car door. “Thanks for the ride, and you know, I am sorry.”

“No worries.”

I stood. “Goodnight.”

“Wait, Nicky.”

I stooped and looked into the dark car. “What?”

“The offer is still there for a ride back tomorrow.”

“It is?”

“Of course. I asked you out but you can’t because you’re seeing someone. That shouldn’t spoil our friendship.”

“You’re right, of course, and thanks, a ride back would be great.”

He grinned. “Pick you up at midday?”

“Perfect.” I banged the door shut and watched him creep out into the traffic.

I’d just stepped into my room and kicked off my shoes when my mobile rang. A number I didn’t recognize.

“Nicky?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s me.”

I sat heavily on the end of the bed. “Lewis?”

“Who else did you think it was?”

“Well I didn’t know. My phone didn’t recognize the number.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine.”

“Only I saw that A-hole bash you on the head with his microphone.”

“Oh that, no, I’m fine, honestly.”

“I wanted to come over and deck him for not saying sorry.”

“I think that would have been a little over the top.” Ah, so that was the reason for the thunderous expression.

“For hurting you, no, I think he would have got off lightly.”

“I’m used to it. I work in a man’s world, remember.”

He paused. “Yeah, and I can’t help thinking some of the men really appreciate you being there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Phil.”

“I told you, he’s—”

“I know, just a friend. Don’t worry, I’m not going to get all weird and possessive over you.”

Part of me wanted Lewis to get all possessive over me. I liked the idea of being his and no one else’s. In fact, hadn’t I just said as much to Phil—I had a boyfriend, I couldn’t date anyone else. Not that Lewis was my boyfriend. We were just in lust with each other. “Great goals today. England really showed their strengths.”

“Yeah, we were pretty evenly matched. Clare did well to get his head to that last ball.”

“It looked seamless, the way the pair of you played it. The Swedish goalie didn’t even see it coming.”

He let out a low chuckle. “It was kind of cool.”

I pictured him smiling. The way the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled and his cheeks balled. I couldn’t stop a grin spreading on my face. “So where are you now?”

“In some fancy place in the middle of Kiev. We fly back to Donetsk tomorrow morning.”

“I’m heading back tomorrow too.”

“Are you staying at the Donbass again?”

“No. Reg emailed to say that the budget had been used up. I’ve got some one-star place in the center of town to look forward to. I think he’s fed up that I haven’t sent him any juicy gossip or incriminating pictures of you all having a wild time.”

“So you get punished for sticking by your morals?”

“Seems that way, but it doesn’t matter. The Donbass was great while it lasted.”

There was a pause then, “Nicky?”

“Yes.”

“I have an idea.”

“What?” I stood and paced to the window. Stared out at the twinkling lights stretching into the distance. Lewis was out there somewhere.

“Come to the Donbass anyway and I’ll get you into my suite.”

“What? You can’t do that!”

“Of course I can.”

“But what about Fellows?”

“Leave Fellows to me. Just come to the Donbass, early evening and walk in as though you’re staying there. Go to the concierge desk.”

“But how—?”

“I haven’t worked out the details yet, but let’s just say money pays for discretion and I happen to know of a member of staff who’s already carried out one secret mission for me concerning an envelope.”

“But smuggle
me
in? That’s a bit different to getting a note delivered.”

“Are you doubting my abilities to get what I want?

I hesitated. “No.”

“Then keep your phone on. I’ll text you.”

A thrill seared through me. Lewis Tate was going to smuggle me into his room. Oh my God. Finally we would be alone together, with a bed and a shed load of raging desires to quench, spectacularly. “Okay,” I whispered.

“And Nicky.”

“Yes.”

“You looked beautiful tonight. In fact, you get more beautiful every time I see you.”

“I, but I was just wearing—”

“Say thanks.”

I laughed. “Okay, thanks, and you looked…muddy.”

“Well you’ll be pleased to know I’m all clean now. Well, physically anyway. But my mind is having decidedly dirty thoughts about what I’m going to do to you tomorrow night, when I get you alone and the door is locked.” He paused. “My suite is on the top floor,” his voice lowered, “no one will hear your cries of delight or your pleas for more.”

I wrapped my arm around my waist and hugged myself, held in a heavenly quiver of anticipation and let it travel to my pussy and my nipples. “And exactly what are you going to do to me?”

“That, lovely lady, would be telling. But let’s just say you won’t be disappointed.”

“I can hardly wait.”

“Me neither. Keep your phone on. I’ll be in touch.”

“Okay. Goodbye.”

“No, don’t say goodbye. It sounds like I won’t see you again.”

“What do you want me to say then?”

“How about see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You can bet your last pound on it.”

I stood beneath the majestic entrance to the Donbass and looked up at the sweeping art deco architecture. A combination of emotions whirled through me. Excitement, desire, anxiety and a certain amount of guilt for having lied and told Phil I was staying at the Donbass again. But what could I do? I needed to be here the same way I needed my heart to keep beating.

After flashing my press identification to the same security guy I’d seen last week, I wandered into the lobby. My first stop was the ladies’ restroom where I quickly freshened up, slipped into my black dress and applied a coat of lipstick. After five hours in the car I needed a little vamping before I saw Lewis.

The concierge was an elderly gentleman in a neat navy suit with gold trimmings, almost military style. I checked his name badge. Lewis had texted me and said that I must only speak to Bohdan. Luckily this was what was engraved on the polished gold rectangle pinned to his jacket.

“Hi,” I said. “I’m Nicky Thomas. You’re expecting me?”

He hesitated for the briefest of moments then nodded. “Absolutely Miss Thomas. If you would come this way.”

He turned and I followed. We went through a doorway, around a desk littered with paperwork, then through another door, into a corridor. The walls were a dull grey, the floor green linoleum. There was nothing plush about it. I was no longer in a public part of the hotel.

“We will use the service lift to get to the Presidential Suite.”

Presidential Suite!

“Okay,” I said, tugging my holdall and wondering what on earth Bohdan must think of me. I guessed it didn’t matter, or if it did I would worry about it later. Right now all I could think of was not running into Fellows or any of the other players or physios or coaches, or anyone at all, actually. An invisibility cloak would have come in mighty handy right now.

The elevator whizzed upwards, condensing the nerves in my stomach into a tight ball. I studied the walls to distract myself. It was devoid of any of the finery the lift Lewis had kissed me in. No brass bar around the edge, no smoky-mirrored doors. Just plain dull metal and dusty corners.