Chapter 8
Lily
The man standing in front of me was a walking, talking wet dream. He was the whole package, an alpha male on steroids.
My worst fears confirmed.
Mr. Arrogant was my client and I’d need to get very close. My father’s words echoed in my ears and for a few seconds I felt nauseous. Why did karma hate me?
The man from the bar. Correction, the arrogant ass who’d… Sighing, I tried to nonchalantly wipe a bead of perspiration from my forehead.
He was the man who’d left me with the most intense ache I’d ever felt. Instinctively, I touched my lips. Oh, this was bad, oh-so bad.
Mr. Blue Eyes.
I’d thought, no, I’d prayed my instincts were wrong. I swallowed hard. The fact he was standing here and I’d need to pretend to be his girlfriend wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to me.
But it wasn’t the best either.
Especially since he obviously remembered the brief yet all-consuming moment of passion.
I could tell that by the sly smile sliding slowly across his chiseled face.
There was no mistaking what he was thinking, especially when his gaze swept all the way to the edge of the table before taking a deep breath and once again bringing his eyes to mine.
“Well. Well. If it isn’t the best kiss of my life,” he said as if he was an expert in passion. Oh, the grin on his face I didn’t just want to wipe off. I wanted to do so with a dull knife.
“That was you being a jerk. Which will not happen again.”
“Ouch. People usually need to spend more time with me before they can say that. How are you really doing, sweetheart?”
“Let’s get this straight, Mr. Masters. I am not now nor will I ever be your sweetheart.”
“That’s not what I was told.”
However, his arrogance was also evident. That irritated me, so much so I frowned and kept a hard glare on him. “Do you always go around attacking women you don’t know, Mr. Masters?”
“It’s Mr. Masters now. I never liked that before. Always makes me think of my father and if you know anything about him, you realize he’s quite the arrogant prick.”
Like father, like son.
“But when you say it, the way the syllables drip off your lips in such a seductive way, I think I like it.” Those baby blues lit up as if sparked by a firecracker.
I put my iPad down on the table and folded my arms. “I’m here to help you, Mr. Masters.
I can’t do that unless you help me.” The man had purposely shown up looking like a slob.
That was easy to read. His reputation as a nonconformist preceded him.
Rules didn’t apply. It was another reason he’d found himself facing stiff penalties during his career.
The quick study had been worth the effort. At least I knew what I had to deal with.
Crap. Why did he have to be so damn good looking?
Chiseled jaw.
Sharp cheekbones.
Broad shoulders.
Plump lips meant for kissing.
Shit. I’d fantasized about my mysterious kisser just the night before. This had to be my worst nightmare. I looked away, trying to break the hypnotic hold he seemed to have over me.
Suddenly, he was leaning over the table, his massive body coming dangerous close to mine. I refused to pull away. That’s exactly what he wanted.
“Do I make you nervous, Ms. Weathers?”
I had to put my foot down right now or he’d do nothing but try to take advantage of me.
I planted my hands on the table, also leaning over exactly as he was doing.
Now it was our lips that were perilously close, so close I gathered a whiff of peppermint on his breath.
The strange interaction with his musky aftershave was almost too much for my senses.
But I refused to blink, offering him the same kind of smile he’d done with me. “Not at all. If that’s what you’re trying to do, you should stick to hockey. You know, making a shot and seeing if you score a three pointer.”
His grin widened and I’ll be damned if he didn’t close the distance. A single breath and we’d be kissing. “You don’t know a single thing about hockey. Do you?”
“You already asked me that. I know enough.”
“If you do, then you’re know it was taking a shot in hopes of making a goal. There are no three pointers in hockey. That’s in basketball.”
Well, crap on a cracker. There was nothing more awkward than trying to make a point with a man who was a consummate player. “I was just testing you.” At least I rallied, remaining right where I was with a smile on my face.
He was the one forced to pull away and if I didn’t know better, I’d say I’d managed to fluster him. Good for me.
“Why don’t you go on with your list because I can tell you’re dying to tell me all the things I’ve done wrong.”
My father prided himself in never having lost a client or met one he hadn’t been able to help.
I’d heard his stories, some keeping the entire family in stitches, but he’d managed to revive extinct careers.
He’d done so by immersing himself in the client’s life, hours of training on everything from how to talk with the media to learning to dress like a true professional.
He’d boosted social media, adding millions of followers.
Every aspect of the client’s image had been restructured, fulfilling an image the public wanted. In the end, the clients had rewarded him with praise and referrals.
I’d gleaned everything I could from the man especially during college. I’d even written my thesis on an imaginary difficult client and how I would manage to salvage their reputation.
I’d gotten an A.
The imaginary person I’d used seemed a lot like Saint.
That might be the only way I could get through this.
“I’d think we’ve gone over enough for tonight, Mr. Masters.
I need your list of scheduled appointments including dinners with family and friends, games both here and away, and also a written idea of your expectations along with logins and passwords from every social media account.
I’ll do my best to accommodate you by allowing you to attend as many functions as possible while promoting your image.
No longer will you just pop out to a corner bar.
That’s a thing of the past. No talking to media.
Tomorrow we’ll go over your attire and I’ll make suggestions. ”
“You don’t want to come to my house and check for yourself?”
“No, thank you. I don’t need to see your personal space.”
He shook his head and offered a military salute. “What else, Sergeant?”
“There’s a rarely used track I know of. We can head there late morning and I’ll run a couple tests for endurance. We might as well get started with a bang.”
“Bang,” he teased, using his fingers as a pretend weapon. When he brought the finger barrel to his lips, blowing across the tip, I offered a stern look.
“And what about playtime?”
“You mean with the team? I know you need to practice.”
“No, Lily flower. With you.” I don’t know how, but his grin was even wider. “I can’t wait to kiss your lush lips again. Delightful.”
Don’t do it. Do not blush.
Shit. I did. I could feel the tingles, crawling up my neck like a wild animal. A blipping image of him as a werewolf popped into my mind.
Damn it. Ignore him. He’s trying to get under your skin.
“We’ll go out to a late lunch so we can be seen together as a couple. Somewhere popular. Then we’ll figure it out from there.”
“I like the sound of being a couple.”
Was he taking a deep whiff? Yes, he was. And was that a growl?
The man was growling at me, a low and husky sound that made me want to… My body started thrumming, tickling sensations reaching my toes all over again. Now I was the one who had to take a deep breath.
“Delicious idea,” he stated almost like a command in a deep, throaty voice that threatened to make me swoon.
And if the man licked his lips one more time, I was going to rip them from his mouth.
“Shit. I can’t. I have practice tomorrow at one. How about dinner?”
Dinner. With him.
Oh, my God. I wasn’t ready for this. Not a chance in hell. My stomach was churning, my nerves already raw. How was I supposed to handle some Neanderthal guy who acted like God’s gift to women?
“I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think too hard. Might fry that pretty brain of yours.”
“As I said,” I snapped, hating the weight of my hair on my head. I wanted to rip out the French comb and use it to dig out his eyes. “We’ll figure it all out.” Somehow. Unless we couldn’t stand each other. He was purposely pressing every button.
“What are the rules?”
“For what?” I had to admit, the man was making me cranky and nervous.
I could swear he was looking straight into my soul.
The kinetic energy between us was strong, an electric vibe just like I’d felt the night we’d…
ugh, kissed. But I had to stop thinking of him as anything but a client.
I could do it. I was a big girl and could do anything I put my mind to.
“For touching you. Kissing you. Caressing you. What else?”
I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I had no idea how to proceed with being his girlfriend.
The thought of him touching me was… My pussy clenched from the thought.
Oh, this was going to be a nightmare. “We’ll need to kiss and hold hands.
You can touch my back and lean in when we’re talking.
” He wanted me to play into the lovefest his puck bunnies had for him. That wasn’t going to happen.
Did I mention this was going to be a nightmare?
“Hmmm… Okay. I think I can handle what you’re telling me. However, you’re going to do something for me.”
“What’s that?”
“I have the final game of the season in a couple nights. You are coming to watch me play.”
Another lump formed in my throat. I knew it was good idea of course, but I wasn’t certain I could sit through a full game. “Fine. I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay. Anything else?” He moved away from the table, heading to the end.
“This is a good start.”