Playing to Win

me.”
    “I don’t think you’re dumb. And I’m not challenging you. I’m preparing you.”
    He picked up a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers, his gaze holding steady on her face. “I’m ready for you, Peaches. Bring it on.”
    Was he deliberately being seductive, or did it just come naturally to him without his even realizing what he was doing? This had to be a practiced move. It was a good one, too, because her breasts swelled, her nipples tightened, and she was ready to fall into his arms and take a nibble out of his lower lip.
    Lord have mercy but the man was tempting. Tall, with a rock-hard sexy body, and there was something about his neck she found so enticing. He smelled good, his eyes mesmerized her, and he was clearly the devil in blue jeans and a tight black T-shirt. She needed to stay far, far away from him.
    She took a step back. “May I have my keys?”
    He dangled them in front of her. She snatched them and unlocked the door, then slid in.
    He shut the door, then leaned his arms against it, so close she could count his eyelashes and inhale his scent.
    Get a grip, Savannah . She turned to face him.
    “I’ll call you in the morning.”
    “Sure. Good night, Savannah.”
    His face was inches from hers. If he dipped his head in just a little bit, he’d kiss her. If she tilted her face up a little…
    No. What was she thinking? After the night at the wedding, she’d vowed that wouldn’t happen again. She’d been so close to givingin, and that would have been a disaster. If they hadn’t been outside in a public place when he’d kissed her that night, she’d have been naked and he’d have been inside her in minutes.
    And she wouldn’t have objected.
    “Good night.” She started up the car and put it in gear. He paused for a second, then pulled away. She backed out of the driveway and finally released the breath she’d held for what had seemed like an eternity.
    What was wrong with her anyway? She needed to gain control of her runaway libido. This was going to be a very tough assignment. She’d never been attracted to one of her clients before.
    And she was determined to fight the attraction to Cole. She was stronger than this, rigid in her dedication to her job.
    Work had always come first, and it always would.
    COLE SMILED AS HE WATCHED SAVANNAH DRIVE OFF.
    There were a lot of things he didn’t know about, but there were things he knew a lot about. One of those things was women.
    Savannah had wanted him to kiss her. It had been written all over her blushing face. The intent had been in her eyes and in the way she positioned her head. He could read signals clearly. It was part of his job as a wide receiver. Body language was everything. If she’d leaned forward a fraction of an inch he would have had his mouth on hers in an instant.
    But she hesitated. He could have initiated, of course, and he doubted she would have balked, but this was her game to play, at least for now. He had no problem simultaneously working and playing with her, but obviously she did.
    He’d wear her down.
    Grinning, he pivoted and headed back into his parents’ house.



TEN

    COLE’S PHONE RANG AT SIX GODDAMNED O’CLOCK. HE picked it up and growled at it, then looked at the display.
    It was Savannah. He punched the button.
    “What?”
    “Your schedule says you have team practice this morning.”
    “Yeah. So?”
    “I’ll be on the field to watch.”
    “So you called just to tell me that?”
    “Yes.”
    “Fine. See you there.” He hung up and flung the phone on the bed, diving back under his pillow. Practice wasn’t for three more hours, which meant he could sleep two more hours.
    Or not.
    Shit. He tried, but he couldn’t go back to sleep, so he got up, took a shower, and fixed himself eggs and bacon for breakfast, then headed to the practice facility to do a workout before drills.
    The offense was there, including his competition—Jamarcus,Lon, and the new kid, Kenny Lawton, a hotshot rookie out of Texas who’d been covered nonstop by the media. According to the press, the kid was a future star wide receiver. He’d run a 4:32 in the forty-yard dash at camp before the draft, and everyone wanted him. The Traders were lucky to pick him up.
    And now Cole, at twenty-nine years old, was going to have to compete with a twenty-one-year-old who was younger and faster.
    Even worse, the kid was polite as hell with no obvious skeletons in his closet.
    Cole had a lot to prove. So maybe it