Playing to Win

bench and glared at Mario. “Die.”
    Mario patted Cole on the back. “I knew you could do it.”
    “Fuck you.”
    “See, I’ve always suspected you had the hots for me. But you’re not my type.”
    “Bullshit. I’m totally your type. Tall, well-built, and athletic.”
    Mario laughed. “Exactly. Just like my boyfriend. But if you’re interested, I could set you up with a few really hot guys.”
    Cole rolled his eyes at Mario, pushed off the bench and stood. “No, thanks. I have enough trouble dealing with women.” He looked at the front door, where Savannah was coming in. “Speaking of, here comes my newest problem.”
    Mario followed Cole’s gaze. “Wow. She’s a stunner.”
    Admittedly, Mario was right. In a conservative, short-sleeved red dress that clung to her curves and high heels that showcased her long legs, Savannah commanded attention.
    She was beautiful. And irritating. And untrustworthy.
    She walked through the doors into the gym, smiling when she saw him. She headed toward them, and Cole was struck again by her walk. And her legs. Damn her legs, anyway. He needed to remember the untrustworthy part.
    “Good morning, Cole,” she said, then turned to Mario and held out her hand. “I’m Savannah Brooks.”
    Mario shook her hand. “Mario Genino. I’m Cole’s trainer.”
    She gave Cole the once-over. “You do a fine job of it, Mario.”
    Mario laughed. “Thanks. I work him over pretty good. What do you do for Cole, Savannah?”
    Oh, shit. The last thing he needed was for Mario—or anyone—to find out the team had hired a fucking image consultant for him. “She’s—”
    “I’m doing some consulting work for him. Someone with Cole’s talent and vast portfolio needs expert assistance, as you can probably imagine.”
    Mario nodded. “Hell, yeah. Have to protect his assets.”
    Savannah smiled. “Indeed, we do.”
    Mario glanced up at the clock. “I hate to greet and run, but my next client will be coming in soon. Nice to meet you, Savannah. Cole, I’ll abuse you again tomorrow.”
    “Of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you. Nice meeting you, Mario,” Savannah said.
    “Yeah, see you, Mario.” Cole waited until Mario left, then turned to her. “You lied. Again.”
    She lifted her chin. “I did not.”
    “You didn’t tell him what you were really hired to do.”
    “I don’t think it’s anyone’s business. And I merely altered the truth a bit, while not lying.”
    He crossed his arms. “Whatever. What’s on the agenda for today?”
    “Your workout is finished?”
    “Yeah.”
    “What are your plans after this?”
    “Lunch. I need to load up on some protein after I work out.”
    “Fine. We’ll have lunch, and I’ll go over the plans.”
    “Okay. I need to shower.”
    “I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”
    She was being accommodating. Nice. He didn’t want her to be nice. He wanted to argue with her. He wanted her to be a bitch. Anything so he wouldn’t like her.
    He showered and dressed, and when he went out to the lobby, she was talking to a couple of the guys from the team who’d come to work out. Single and a few years younger than him, Jamarcus Davis and Lon Fields were offensive stars on the Traders. Both had reputations for being lady-killers, and rightly so. Solidly built, damn good-looking, and friendly with women, they were loaded with charm, and even worse, neither of them had shitty reputations like he did.
    Looked like they were charming Savannah, too. She had a smile on her face when he got close. She was even laughing—that damn laugh that made his balls quiver.
    She caught his eye as he approached. “Oh, there you are.”
    Jamarcus and Lon turned, too, and their smiles died.
    “You’re with Riley?” Jamarcus asked, surprise on his face.
    “Yes, I am. Are you ready to go, Cole?”
    “Yup.” He took Savannah’s arm and led her to the door, winking at Jamarcus and Lon. “See you later, guys.”
    “Yeah, later, Cole,” Lon said with obvious disappointment.
    “We can take your car if that’s all right with you,” Savannah said, sliding her sunglasses on as they stepped outside. “You can just drop me off after we’re finished.”
    “That’s fine.”
    “Let me grab my briefcase first.” She stopped at one of those hybrid tree-hugger cars, grabbed a leather bag, then joined him at his gas-guzzler SUV.
    “Sorry,” he said as she climbed in, hiking her dress up. “I didn’t know you’d be getting in with me or I’d have