Jamie knew this from experience since she’d ignored every call she’d received after the latest media maelstrom had blown through her life, aka Lance Montero. But she definitely couldn’t take any calls right now when the source of her latest problems might put in an appearance any moment.
She’d been waiting for him in the players’ parking lot for the last twenty minutes. It was easy enough to get into the area where the home team parked their cars, although there were loads of security guards around to make sure people passing through didn’t touch the sleek, high-end automobiles the athletes favored. A few members of the media milled around the door where the players would exit into the garage, but Jamie had avoided their notice by wearing a false nose she’d purchased for an old Halloween costume. It wasn’t the first time she’d used the fake schnoz. Between the prosthetic, a hat and some sunglasses, she was fairly safe as long as she didn’t mingle.
“Here he comes,” someone shouted near the doors.
An answering rustle of excitement surged through the throng as floodlights clicked on and last-minute audio feeds were tested. Jamie hung back, sticking close to Lance’s car in the hope she could ride out of here with him. As much as she wanted to put the kibosh on the media interest in their nonrelationship, she knew that couldn’t be done without some help from him. And she had a plan to make it happen that would serve them both well.
Still, an unexpected flutter of excitement went through her at the thought of seeing him again and she marveled at the surprising chemistry they’d experienced. Not that she could listen to her instincts when it came to men. Especially powerful men with a foot in the spotlight. She’d been dragged through that wringer before and didn’t plan to go back for seconds, no matter how enticing the baseball player looked in a suit.
The hubbub around the door increased and then she spotted him. Tall and commanding, he dwarfed most of the media members. He had to be all of six foot three, his shoulders easily wedging their way through pedestrian traffic toward the low-slung Viper that one of the security guards had confided belonged to him. The information hadn’t been difficult to come by as the security officer had been all of twenty years old and easily impressed by a suggestive glimpse of thigh.
Jamie could have upped the size of her nose times three and she’d still bet a tight skirt would have yielded information. It was one of those endearing quirks of the male species that they were hardwired to respond to a woman’s legs.
“I can’t right now,” the shortstop star was saying to one of the reporters, keeping his responses brief and his feet moving.
“Do you have a date with Jamie McRae?” one of the camera wielders shouted over the din of other questions. “Did you know about her infamous past before you met?”
“How long have you known each other?” someone else asked.
“Did you hit that three-run homer for her tonight?” another pressed.
“The hit was for the team,” he replied, calm and charming in the face of ten microphones aimed for his mouth.
His movement toward the car brought the throng with him like a swarm of bees, the noise level rising with their proximity. Jamie hoped she could find a way to slide into the car without much fuss, but the closer he came, the more difficult it seemed. She’d been proud of herself for slipping her own press. She hadn’t fully prepared for confronting his.
And it was formidable.
Panicked, she sidled closer to the passenger-side door as Lance noticed her. She could tell the instant he spotted her since she felt his eyes on her clear down to her toes like a physical caress. A man’s glance should never have that much power over a woman. But the butterflies in Jamie’s stomach picked up their jittery dance at one look from those melted chocolate eyes of his.
And damned if he didn’t see right past the fake nose, the sunglasses and the hat. The shift in his expression from coolly determined to surprised and curious was as plain as the oversize nose on her face.
At least, she hoped she was reading him correctly.
There might be hell to pay if she jumped into his car uninvited. Not that she hadn’t danced with the devil a time or two in her day.
“Get in,” he ordered, pressing a button on his key remote that sounded a click of the doors unlocking. The engine rumbled to life before he reached the vehicle, a trick of a remote starter.
Hurrying to do as he asked while all eyes in the parking garage turned to her, Jamie slid into the passenger seat and locked herself side. Slumping down in the seat to avoid the sea of camera lenses swinging in her direction, she admired Lance’s easy athleticism and economy of movement as he folded himself into the driver seat. He put the car in Reverse before the door was even shut.
“We meet again,” he observed lightly, flipping down her sun visor to help shield her face from the spectators beginning to recognize her.
“I had no idea you’d be so mobbed after a game or I would have found another way to get in touch with you.”
The garage’s security staff was already moving the crowd to one side, clearly accustomed to protecting the players from this kind of thing.
“You failed to notice what an uproar our first meeting created?” He whipped the car around as soon as he had enough room to maneuver.
Wasting no time, he jammed down on the gas pedal and steered them around to the upper levels where an attendant waved them through to an exit that would put them on the West Side Highway. They were as good as home free.
Jamie pulled off her nose and swiped away the thin film of stage makeup that had held it in place. Depositing it into her bag, she hit the ignore button on her cell phone for the umpteenth time that day.
“Actually, I’ve worked hard not to notice since I’ve had all the bad news I can handle this year.” Tipping her head back onto the seat rest, she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the speed of the luxury sports car, the motor humming with the smooth accent of superb foreign engineering. The scent of leather and a subtle bay rum aftershave soothed her.
The thought triggered a frisson of warning down her neck. How could she feel so calm in the presence of a powerful, moneyed man? Would she ever learn her lesson where these kinds of guys were concerned? Straightening, she shook off the sweet languor and resurrected a few protective barriers.
Well, she did place her oversize purse on the console between them.
“So you avoided the news all day, but you didn’t avoid me.” He turned to flash a quick wink before focusing once again on the road. “I like that.”
Her heart skipped a beat at his easy flirtation. He had a charm that drew her in without making her feel pressured or like he was giving her the hard sell. There was something warm and genuine about the man despite his fame and his millions.
“About that—”
“I wanted to see you again, too.”
Now her heart skipped more than a beat. It seemed to miss a whole sequence, freezing her in place for a moment while she tried to absorb what those words meant. How could such a simple statement carry so much impact?
And how could the city’s favorite son want to hang out with the country’s breast-baring scarlet woman?
“You did?” The vital organ that halted a moment ago now beat with renewed flurry, making her all jittery inside.
She shoved all thought of her plan for containing this mess aside to hear him out.
“Definitely.” He sounded resolved, his jaw locked in a determined jut as she stared at his profile. “I’ll admit it probably doesn’t make sense for either of us on paper. And I’m sorry your split from your ex put you through such a public ordeal. But I couldn’t get you out of my head today and I don’t think ignoring what happened between us is going to make it disappear.”