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My Playboy Fiance: A Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance by Katerina Cole (52)

6

Vanessa

This couldn’t be happening again. I stared at the shirtless football player in front of me, hoping my mouth didn't drop open in disbelief. He was gorgeous. His muscles were chiseled and cut in ways I'd never seen. Little beads of sweat rolled from his collarbone along his pecks. I swallowed hard, imagining what the planes of his chest felt like.

I didn’t want him to know that he had this kind of effect on me. He was clearly cocky. I could see it in his eyes. They were a light green, almost the color of jade.

“So, what are you going to do?” Dylan James asked.

“Excuse me?” I blinked.

“How are you going to handle this mess? The team isn’t happy. No one is happy around here.”

“You aren’t the first person to tell me that today. I've heard it over and over again.”

I was exhausted. It was only lunch time and I’d heard nothing but complaints. Not a single compliment. I knew the sympathy comments were only out of obligation. The staff was unhappy. Management was unhappy. And the team was angry. They were like an army ready to fight, and pick up any weapons they could find and hurl them at this office. I didn't feel like I had any allies or anyone who cared what I was going through. The only thing that mattered to them was money. They had made that perfectly clear.

Dylan smiled. “Darlin’, I think you need to come up with a plan fast or you’re going to have a rebellion on your hands.”

I should have cared that he called me darlin’. I should've said something to put him in his place. I was the one in charge, not him. But instead the word made my spine tingle and my thighs warm.

“I’ll figure it out,” I explained.

He leaned back in his chair, adjusting his large frame to the seat. “So, what did you do before you owned an AFA team?” he prodded.

I pressed my lips together. I didn’t know what answer to give him. Whatever I said was going to make me sound like a spoiled rich girl. I was the one who grew up in a million-dollar estate on the Texas hillside. It didn't matter to him that my grandparents raised me, and their life had been lonely for me. I never knew my mother. My father died when I was five. It wasn’t a happy story, regardless of how much money I had.

He didn’t need to know about my irresponsible brother. He didn’t care that I was carrying the family on my shoulders right now.

“I’ve always been interested in the family business,” I lied.

“Really?” he smirked. “So, your grandfather groomed you for this position?”

His questions got under my skin, leaving me feeling rattled and uneasy. But it may have had more to do with his intense stare. The way his eyes made me feel. The heat I could almost feel radiating from his smooth chest. Whatever it was, I was completely shaken.

“My grandfather made sure I was always around the business,” I explained “I don’t want you or any of the other players to worry. You're in good hands. I promise. I take the Warriors very seriously, Dylan. I know this is your career, and I’m going to make sure we have a winning season.”

I don’t know where the sudden movie-esque speech came from. It felt foreign on my lips. As if some other girl had spoken the words, not me, the artist. Not the girl who was forced into a life of football when she would have rather been at an art museum or in a studio creating something beautiful.

“I’m not worried, darlin’. I'm going to be fine wherever I go. But I have loved this team since I was a kid, and I'd hate to see it fall apart. I have Warrior blood. It runs through my veins.”

He rose from his seat and my eyes followed the chiseled lines of his body. God, he was unbelievable. In a dangerous way.

“Me too,” I replied softly. At least that was the truth.

I had to shake the haze.

“Thank you for stopping by, Dylan. I appreciate your input. I’ll have an update for the team soon. I have several meetings this afternoon and the rest of the week. It’s going to take a little time, that’s all.” I didn’t know who I was trying to convince.

He flashed a smile showing his beautiful white teeth. And winked. That tingle between my legs sparked as he walked away.

“Good to know.” He slapped the doorframe as he walked out of my office. “I look forward to hearing from you, Vanessa.”

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