Cross-Checked Page 10

  More than anything, I hated the fact that next to her sat Brick. His head was tipped to the chandeliers and he was draining a beer. I clasped my fingers in my lap. Watched as he placed the bottle on the starched tablecloth, licked a drip from his top lip and turned to me.

  My breathing stopped. He looked devastatingly handsome in his tux but his right eye was terrible. Bruised and swollen, the lids puffed tight. Beneath the lower lid sat a perfect curve of black and purple. It looked painful and sickening on his beautiful face. I’d been right to be so worried.

  Dragging in a deep, juddering breath, I knew I should look away, turn from his heavy gaze.

  He was with Mae, so why the hell was he staring at me?

  Thank god he is.

  I held his stare, reached for my champagne, took a sip and replaced it without taking my gaze from his. I didn’t smile. I wanted to make him feel uncomfortable about the fact that he’d brought his ex to the ball. I wanted him to squirm because he hadn’t called after I’d given him an amazing blowjob and left him tied to a bed. I didn’t look away because it was the first time I’d looked at him since admitting to myself that I’d fallen in love with him.

  But he didn’t squirm and he didn’t look uncomfortable. He just carried on staring at me, watching me. Phoenix said something to him and he nodded briskly, his gaze not leaving mine.

  The hairs on the back of my neck prickled and suddenly I wanted to squirm, his scrutiny of me was so intense. It was as if he could see right into my soul, see how desperate I was feeling.

  Straightening my spine, I scolded myself. I had to play it cool. I clearly still interested him even if he had brought her. She reached over him for a water pitcher all the time talking animatedly to Wolf. Brick didn’t even glance her way. It was strange, he didn’t seem bothered if she saw him studying me.

  “Miss.” A waiter stretched his hand over my shoulder. “Have you finished?”

  I pulled my gaze from Brick, enormously grateful for the waiter’s sudden appearance. It gave me a chance to break our connection without looking as though I’d weakened. “Yes, thanks.”

  The waiter lifted the plate away.

  “So, Carly,” Steve said. “Are you in training for anything at the moment?”

  “No, not really, just keeping up fitness levels until the U.S. nationals come around.” My mouth was moving, words were coming out, but my mind was on Brick.

  “Oh so what does that involve? Keeping up fitness?”

  A chocolate torte was set before me. “Just stamina stuff, thirty or fifty miles several times a week out on the roads, swimming, I run sometimes too, on the treadmill.”

  “Where do you swim?”

  “At the Cory Center near Richmond Hills.” I wondered if Brick was still staring at me.

  “Yeah, I know that place.” He paused as he scooped in a large mouthful of chocolate torte. “It has an Olympic pool doesn’t it?”

  “Yes and diving boards.”

  “You like to dive?” he asked.

  “No, not really my thing.”

  “Mmm, I did it for a while, but it turned out I was much better at swimming. I might be lean and agile but I’m incredibly strong too.” He nodded to my dessert. “You want that?”

  “No, I’m not hungry.” How could I be expected to eat when the man I was in love with sat only a few tables away with another woman?

  “Can I have it? I’m starved. A tiny bit of lobster and chicken does not fill me up.”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “Oh, oh, look,” Mary said. She was jiggling in the chair next to me. “The auction is about to start.”

  Steve swapped my full plate for his empty one and I sat back as the auctioneer took to the stage. My eyes were desperate to swing back to Brick to see if he was still looking my way. It felt as if he was. I’d become used to his gaze on my body, aware of the tingling sensations that swept over me whenever he looked at me. I could feel them now, all over. Inside and out.

  The hammer banged down and the room fell silent. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Promises and Dreams Sport Star Auction.”

  There was a round of applause and a couple of whoops from the hockey and soccer tables.

  “As you all know, we’re raising money for the children of Florida. We want to give the sick and underprivileged the same delightful experiences of childhood other children take for granted. So if you can all dig deep, including our most welcome telephone bidders at the back, it would be very much appreciated.” He banged his hammer down and grinned. “First lot, please.”

  A serious-looking guy in a brown suit walked onto the stage holding up a hockey shirt in a heavy wooden frame.

  “Lot number one is a shirt signed by every single one of the Orlando Vipers. I’m going to start the bidding at two thousand dollars.”

  Straightaway two hands went up.

  “Two thousand five.” The auctioneer pointed his hammer at a lady in a red dress at the front. “Do I have three?” He scanned the room. “Three thousand, gentleman to the right. Do I have three and a half?” The lady at the front nodded. “Three and a half. Four, anyone?” His hammer swung in my direction and I turned. Someone on a mobile phone had lifted their hand. “Four, telephone bidder. Do I have four and a half?” The gentleman lifted his hand. “Four and a half. Anyone for five, come on, it’s a great cause.” The woman shook her head. “Think of the kids,” he said. “Can anyone give me five?” His hammer swung again. “Five at the back.” He looked down at his other bidder. “Can you offer me five and a half?” The guy shook his head. “Five thousand dollars for the Orlando Vipers signed shirt. Going once, going twice, any other bidders?” His gaze scanned the glittering tables. Finally his hammer banged down. “Gone, lot number one, to the telephone bidder at the back.”

  My head spun. He’d made five thousand dollars for the charity in thirty seconds. What an amazing achievement. I watched the shirt being carried off as the basketball signed by the Magic was brought on. The same whirlwind of bidding ensued and it finally went for eight thousand dollars. Harry Anderson’s dog tag was next. Steve made an attempt at bidding, but he stopped at three thousand and it eventually went for four. Still I didn’t look at Brick, and when the auction came to an end and I hadn’t so much as glanced back at table eight, I congratulated myself on my self-control. It had nearly killed me but I’d done it.

  The chairman of the Promises Foundation stepped behind the auctioneer’s box and praised the generosity of the public. He went on to commend the athletes’ generosity of spirit and time and mapped out how the money would be spent. Then he pushed his hands through his graying hair and beamed at the audience. “And can we please welcome, all the way from the UK, tonight’s very special surprise guests.” He paused and tugged at his bow tie. “Taking a detour on their U.S. tour just to entertain you. Please, ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together, put your hands together loud and clear and let’s hear it for The Manic Machines.”

  It was as if there’d been an explosion in the room. Hands clapped, whoops of delight shook the chandeliers and people scraped back chairs to run to the dance floor. The lights dipped low and the stage curtains swished back revealing a drummer, two guitarists and a singer.

  “Good evening, Orlando,” shouted the impossibly gorgeous singer, waving a hand in the air. “I hope you’re all having a great time.”

  A chorus of cheers rose.

  “So what are we waiting for? Let’s get dancing,” he shouted into his microphone. “I hope you like this one, it’s just hit number one in the UK.”

  A tall guitarist with floppy dark hair shoved down on his strings. The intro of a tune I’d been humming earlier swirled around me and the dance floor was suddenly swamped. People pushed and jigged and swung one another about as the singer blasted out the first lines.

  I pushed back my chair. “Excuse me,” I said above the noise to Steve. Mary was already in the center of the floor, wriggling her hips and swaying her arms with Philip in a wil
d rock-chick kind of way.

  I headed to the ladies’, pushed heavily through the swinging door and stood with my head in my hands in a cubicle for several long minutes. I didn’t think I could cope seeing Brick dance with Mae. I wished I’d had the chance to talk to him in private, without my emotions threatening to bubble in front of her. But it was too late for that. I’d have to go back out there. I couldn’t just walk out of the hotel.

  Or maybe I could. Who would notice?

  No. I couldn’t give in. That wasn’t me. I’d never given up on anything in my entire life. I would stay. I would have a good time, or at least give the illusion of having a good time.

  Quickly I powdered my nose and reapplied my now favorite raspberry red lipstick. Tucked in a stray strand of hair and smoothed down my dress. I looked good, even if I said so myself. Mae looked good, sure. But underneath my dress I was a professional athlete, every part of my body honed and toned to perfection. I took a deep breath and forced my shoulders down, dragged my confidence back up to an acceptable level. I might not be about to launch a fabulous singing career, but I had other skills to my name, including Olympic skills.

  I stepped back into the ballroom, the flashing lights and loud music a jolt to my senses after the relatively quiet bathroom. But the song had slowed and with it so had the excited crowd. Couples swayed and shoulders brushed as the singer crooned a haunting love song about destined souls that sent a shiver up my spine.

  I’d just placed my purse on the table when a thick forearm circled my waist. In a tight, snapping motion my bare back was pressed against a hot, concrete chest.

  “I thought you’d slipped away,” drawled a deep voice in my ear, “without dancing with me.”

  Breathlessly I turned within the circle of the viselike grip. Grinning down at me was Ramrod. His brown eyes twinkled and his mouth tipped in a confident grin.

  “Why would I slip away?” I asked, placing my hands on his chest as he pulled me closer still.

  “Perhaps you don’t like dancing.”

  I tugged at my bottom lip with my teeth. “I like lots of things.” I glanced over at table eight. It was empty. Oh god, he’s dancing with her. No doubt all smoochy and lovey, gazing into each other’s eyes and wondering why they’d broken up. “One of the things I like best is dancing,” I said, forcing myself to smile up at Ramrod.

  “Excellent.” He stepped toward the dance floor, tugging me with him.

  I braced my heart and tilted my chin. Refused to look for them. Refused to search Brick out. He could see me. He could see me dancing with Ramrod, being held by the handsome captain of the team.

  Once we were on the dance floor, Ramrod pulled me into his arms. He was taller than Brick and a little wider too. I felt tiny in his embrace and, despite my heels, my eye-line was only at his bow tie.

  “You like this band?” I asked.

  “Yeah, their tunes are real catchy.” He grinned, settling his hands on the bare flesh of my back. They were big and firm as they smoothed over my skin and dipped into the column of my spine until one sat in the hollow of my back and one between my shoulder blades. “I love your dress,” he said, bending his head to my ear.

  I breathed in his hot scent, woodsy but at the same time sweet like berries, it reminded me of a walk through the woods in autumn. He pressed his body against mine as he guided me gently around the floor. From my chest to my knees, we were connected. His suit was of the finest material and silky soft on my exposed flesh.

  He brushed his lips against my ear. His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “There’s no ring on your finger and there’s no man on your arm, Carly. So I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes by dancing with you, am I?”

  I swallowed. “No, no toes and can we keep it that way? I think you’d break mine if you stood on them and I’m rather attached to my feet, can’t pedal so well without them.”

  He gave a huff of amusement and pulled back to look at my face. “There must be someone.”

  I was silent.

  “Brick likes you,” he said. “I saw the way he looked at you at the photo shoot and the way you were together on the Ray Lenon Show. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

  I shrugged and curled my fingers into the shoulders of his tux jacket. Prayed that Ramrod hadn’t heard the rumors from New York about our adventures in The Waldorf. “He took me to lunch.”

  “Just lunch?”

  “Yes.”

  “You expect me to believe that?” His brows rose.

  “Why not?” Because it had been just lunch that time we were together. Well, lunch and a kiss that made me want to rip his clothes from his body with my bare teeth.

  “Brick wouldn’t do just lunch. Not with a gorgeous woman like you.” His eyes narrowed and a teasing smile played on his lips. “I know how his filthy mind works.”

  “Well, you’re just going to have to believe me on this one, Ramrod”

  “Please, call me Rick. My friends, family and gorgeous women dancing in my arms usually call me by my real name.”

  “Rick,” I said, looking him in the eye. “Brick took me to lunch and then dropped me back at my condo. Nothing more.” My heart thudded at the thought of Ramrod now mentioning the newspaper gossip. I would look such a fool.

  But his face broke into a grin and his eyes sparkled naughtily. “Hey, it wouldn’t matter if it was more.” His hand sank from the dip in my back until it tucked beneath the material of my dress. His fingers brushed the first swell of my right buttock.

  “What do you mean?” His touch made my skin hungry for more connection. Connection with a man. But it wasn’t this one. This wasn’t the man I wanted. Despite his obvious interest and his undeniable good looks, I craved another. “What do you mean it wouldn’t matter if it was more?” I asked again.

  “Can you keep a secret?” he whispered, his hot breath flooding my ear.

  “Sure.”

  “When he was with Mae, one night we all drank too much. Vipers had just wiped the floor with the Gamblers and she’d just gone Platinum. We were all on a total high in a Vegas hotel.”

  “What are you saying?”

  He gave a decidedly carnal smile as his cheeky finger dipped into the cleft of my bare butt cheeks. “We all got it on together in the bedroom. She was a very happy lady that night, I can tell you. And we were two very obliging guys.”

  My mouth opened but no words came out.

  His eyes twinkled. “A threesome, Carly. You ever done a threesome?” His head dropped until his lips hovered just a millimeter away from mine. “You ever had two guys at the same time loving you, adoring you, exploring you?”

  My heart pounded and my body weakened with a mixture of jealousy and excitement. Mae had gone to bed with Brick and Ramrod at the same time. How greedy could a girl get? I’d be happy, more than happy, I’d be in heaven with just Brick. An answer formed in my mouth, an answer that would have been no. I’d never indulged in a threesome. I’d done many things with Tim but not that.

  Suddenly a shadow loomed beside us.

  I looked up.

  “This song’s over,” Brick said, glowering out of his one good eye at Ramrod.

  Chapter Seven

  Ramrod lifted his face from mine, looked at Brick and smirked. “No, it’s not.”

  “It is for you. Take a hike.” Brick jabbed his thumb over his shoulder.

  “You gonna make me, rookie?” Rick’s body tensed against mine as a pulse of male belligerence shot through the air.

  “I haven’t been a rookie for years and you know it. Now piss off.” Brick took a step closer.

  Ramrod huffed. He didn’t release me.

  I gulped as my mind tried to figure out what was going on. Why wasn’t Brick dancing with Mae? And who did he think he was after not calling me all week suddenly barging over here like he wanted to cross-check my dance partner.

  “I’m dancing with Rick,” I said and curled my hands over Ramrod’s shoulders.

  “Rick?” Brick looked fro
m me to Ramrod. “Since when did anyone call you Rick?”

  “It’s a privilege only beautiful, single women get,” Ramrod said, staring at Brick with a decidedly amused glint in his eye.

  Brick’s whole face tensed even further, if that was possible. His jaw tightened and his lips pressed together. “I won’t tell you again,” he said through gritted teeth. “And then I make you, Rick.”

  Ramrod lifted his hands from me and held them palms up in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay.” His face cracked into a grin. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene now, would we? Show ourselves up for being a bunch of hooligans. Especially not when the soccer team are here and well on their way to being completely plastered. They can have the title for being the most uncouth sportsmen for a change.” He stepped back and gave me a wink. “Just lunch, eh? Like I believe you now, Carly.”

  He melted into the sea of couples.

  “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” Brick snapped as his broad arms encased me and tugged me close. His head stooped to mine and he became my entire world. It was as if there was a magnetic force between us and until we touched the force was a constant tug I was battling.

  “I’m not playing at anything,” I said, trying to hide the fact that being in his arms was like coming home. “And who do you think you are, waltzing over here and grabbing me away from a sweet guy I’m getting to know?”

  “About as sweet as fucking battery acid,” Brick snarled as his hot hands spread out on my naked back.

  I felt the calluses on the pads of his palms from where he gripped his hockey stick. A shiver went up my spine, a delicious shiver that just hadn’t hit me when Ramrod touched me. “I’m entitled to dance with other men. You don’t own me,” I said in as firm a voice as I could muster.

  “I know I don’t own you.” He frowned. “I never said I did.”

  “Well, actions speak louder than words.” I tilted my chin and pushed my hands against his chest. Tried to step away.