CHAPTER THREE
Roper could not believe his mother was bugging him about helping Ben yet again. On New Year’s Eve. Just as he was finally going to kiss Amy.
Still wound tight, he tossed the last handful of vegetables into the wok with too much force and oil splattered up at him. He stepped back to avoid being hit.
“Families can be a bitch,” Amy said at last, breaking the tension.
He turned toward her. “Especially mine.”
“Um…” She bit down on the bottom lip he’d been on the verge of devouring minutes before. “If you missed my mother and aunt in action, then I’m sure you heard the wedding stories. I hardly think I’m in a position to judge other people’s relatives.” She laughed, lightening his mood in an instant.
He didn’t know another woman capable of getting into his head that way. He ought to be wary, but right now, he was just grateful. “You’ve got a point. My mother likes to lay on the guilt when I don’t give Ben what he wants.”
“Your brother played baseball, too?” Amy leaned forward and perched her chin in her hands.
He stared into her curious gaze. Discussing his personal life with anyone, especially women, had always been a big no-no. Inevitably something private made it into the papers after the relationship ended. He’d learned it early in the minors and had never violated the rule since.
Yet here he was, ready to talk to Amy. He drew a deep breath and forged ahead before he could stop himself. “Ben never made it past the minors. He blames me for inheriting talent from my father. His father, his and Sabrina’s, wasn’t good for much of anything. He walked out on my mother and us kids, which frankly wasn’t much of a loss. But after baseball, Ben just ventured from job to job. You know the expression jack of all trades, master of none?”
She nodded in understanding, listening without judging, which only made him want to tell her more. “Over the years, Ben’s come to me for money for one investment after another, promising me a huge return. At first I thought he’d find something that gave him financial security. Eventually I realized that would never happen, but I helped him out, anyway, just because I could.”
While he spoke, he took plates from the cabinet and she helped him set the table.
“You’re a good brother,” she said. “Uncle Spencer’s taken care of his sisters the same way. He bought the retirement complex that my mother and her sister live in. It keeps them out of trouble. Or should I say, it confines their trouble. Anyway, it seems to work.”
“Real estate is a smart investment. Ben’s last idea was a franchise that would put condom machines in restrooms around the country. My brother was calling himself the future Condom King of America.”
Amy pursed her lips to keep from laughing.
Roper grinned. “You can let it out. It’s ridiculous, I know. But at my mother’s insistence, I gave him the franchise money and he promptly passed it on to a guy who ran away with the cash. Last my detective heard, he was sunning himself in Mexico, avoiding extradition for embezzlement. Meanwhile there were a lot of disappointed, broke future Condom Kings he’d bilked out of large amounts of cash.”
“So you’d like to help him but can’t because he’s stubborn and invests in pipe dreams. Meanwhile you feel guilty that you won’t help him anymore because he’s still your family.”
He gave her a quick nod. She’d nailed his dilemma perfectly, he thought, not all that surprised at her insight. But he was uncomfortable with how well she understood him. He stirred the vegetables and poured them into a bowl, covering it with foil to keep warm while he cooked the chicken.
Eventually the silence got to him. “So there you have the story of my life. How about you? Any brothers or sisters to tell tales about?”
She shook her head. “I’m an only child.”
“Lucky you.” A few more preparatory steps and he served the food, dividing up the meal and putting it on their plates.
She sat down at the table to eat. “I wouldn’t say I was lucky. It was pretty lonely growing up by myself.”
He tipped his head to one side. “I never looked at it that way.” He’d had Ben to fight with and toss a ball to. And he’d had Sabrina trailing after him with doting eyes.
“That’s because right now you have issues with your brother.”
“Here’s the thing.” He set two full glasses of water on the table. “I love my family, but everyone needs something from me. They pull at me from every direction and like you said, I feel guilty not responding right away.”
“Because you always have before.”
“Exactly.” He placed his hand on the top of his chair. “Now, how about some champagne? It is New Year’s Eve.”
She crinkled her nose in that cute way she had whenever she wasn’t sure she wanted to do something. “Maybe just one glass.”
He obliged, pulling a bottle from the fridge, popping the cork, pouring and finally sitting down beside her at the table. “A toast,” he said, raising his glass.
She raised hers, as well.
“To…new friends,” he said. He hadn’t known how much he needed someone like Amy in his life until tonight. She was special.
A warm smile tilted her lips. “To new friends,” she said, a gleam in her eyes as she touched her glass against his and took a sip.
“Good?”
She nodded. “Excellent. Now, you were saying that everyone in your family needs something from you. Care to elaborate beyond Ben?”
He lifted his fork and tasted his meal. “Mmm. Care to compliment the cook first?”
Laughing, she took a bite and paused.
And paused. And paused so long he nearly fell off the edge of his chair waiting for her opinion.
“This is unbelievably good!” she said at last with a smile on her face that bordered on orgasmic.
All he could imagine was putting that same expression on her face in a more intimate setting. But somehow, he managed to clear his throat and continue their discussion. “Thank you,” he said, ridiculously thrilled that he’d pleased her palate.
He loved to cook and often did so to relieve tension when he had home games or just to help himself relax during the off-season. And he’d needed one helluva lot of relaxing lately.
“Well? You were saying about your family?” Amy prodded without shame.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re like a pit bull when you get your teeth into something?” he asked. She didn’t reply, merely continued eating and waiting, knowing he’d have to answer eventually. “Oh, all right. I’ll tell you, but I’ll probably put you to sleep with my family saga.”
She shook her head. “Try me.”
He shrugged. “Mom’s an actress, or at least she was until she aged beyond the point where cosmetic surgery enabled her to take youthful roles.”
“Would I know of her?” Amy asked.
“Her stage name is Cassandra Lee.”
Amy’s eyes lit up. “From the movies Maiden Lane and On Sandy Shores! My mother is a huge fan and took me to her movies all the time when I was growing up!”
“That’s her,” Roper said. “These days she’s too vain to accept the more mature roles, so she’s settled into living her life with me supporting her. Not that I mind, since she worked hard to take care of us while I was a kid.”
“It must be hard aging in Hollywood.”
“There are plenty of better-known actresses who’ve handled it. Mom has truly made Poor Me into an art form. But I’m used to it by now.”
Amy finished her meal, leaving nothing on her plate. She wasn’t one of those women who pushed the food around instead of eating, and that pleased him.
She raised her glass and sipped her champagne. “What about your father? Is he still alive? Mine isn’t. He passed away a few months after I started junior high,” she said, her tone wistful.
“I’m sorry.” He wanted to squeeze her hand, but she didn’t seem to want or need sympathy.
She finished her champagne and smiled.
He poured them both another glass. “My father is still alive. He just wasn’t ever much of an influence in my life, except for the fact that I inherited my baseball talent from him. Eduardo Montoya. He was a big-time player in his day. And before you ask, Roper was my mother’s name before she had it changed.”
Amy inclined her head. “I’ve never heard of him, but that isn’t saying much.”
He nodded. “It’s kind of nice that you don’t know the professional me.”
She nodded in understanding. He couldn’t get over how much he’d revealed to her tonight. Other than with Micki, he never discussed his famous parents with anyone. He didn’t need another reason for people to be impressed with something about him that had nothing to do with who he was inside. Amy was different. She was easy to talk to and genuinely interested in him, unlike the usual women he dated, ones who were more interested in his career, status and what he could buy them. Before now, all he’d wanted from his companions was a good time, in bed and out. Yet here was a woman he could talk to….
Unwilling to think about that, he rose and started to clean up. Amy helped and in the process, they managed to finish the bottle of champagne. Once the plates were in the dishwasher, and the kitchen was sparkling, he finally led Amy into the family room and turned on the big-screen TV to watch the ball drop in Times Square. He’d have offered to take her home, but he was enjoying her company too much and he didn’t want to ring in the New Year alone.
She snuggled into the corner of the couch and didn’t object when he eased in close beside her. From the way she’d tripped once on her way into the den and giggled a few times over a joke he hadn’t made, Roper knew the champagne had gone to her head.
She was adorable to watch, and he liked having her in his home. Another first.
She narrowed her gaze at the TV screen depicting Times Square. “I can’t believe all those people are standing outside in that freezing-cold weather. It was awful when we were there and it wasn’t by choice!” She shivered at the memory, giving him just the excuse he needed.
“Spoken like a true Florida girl.” Roper pulled her close at the same time the countdown to the New Year began.
“Know what I was doing last year at this time?” Amy asked him, her eyes wide, her face close to his.
“What?”
“Breaking up a fight between two men who wanted to kiss Aunt Darla first once the ball dropped,” she murmured. “It’s been ages since I spent New Year’s with someone my own age.”
“Oh, yeah? And when was the last time you were kissed?” he asked, staring at her moist lips.
“Way too long,” she said as her eyes fluttered closed.
He knew she had to be slightly tipsy, because he couldn’t imagine her letting her guard down this easily otherwise. Still, she’d seemed willing enough earlier in the evening before they were interrupted by the telephone.
He had every intention of taking that next step with her now.
* * *
Amy’s stomach fluttered as she waited, delicious ripples of anticipation licking at her from deep inside. Roper’s eyes darkened and he lowered his head, slowly dragging out the anticipation until finally his mouth came down on hers.
The initial touch set off more sparks. Spiraling whirlpools of desire started slowly and built larger, filling her from inside out. His kiss was silky smooth, the stuff of sensual dreams as he drew his mouth back and forth over hers and lulled her into a hazy stupor of wanting. She lifted her hands and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, something he seemed to appreciate because he slid his tongue over the seam of her lips, teasing her back and forth until she opened her mouth and let him inside.
Her tongue tangled with his, matching every fantasy she’d ever had of him and providing even more. He ran his thumbs over her cheek, gently caressing her face while he ravished her mouth. She didn’t need food, not when she had this. Wanting to taste more of him, she curled her hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, then tilted her head back, giving him better access. He swept his tongue one last time around her mouth, then began a warm, wet trail of kisses down the side of her face, her neck, her throat, until his head came to rest on her chest just above her cleavage.
Her heart pounded and her breasts felt full, her nipples tightening into hardened peaks at the thought of his wicked mouth suckling her hard. Moisture pooled between her legs, dampening her panties as desire pulsed through her body.
“You taste sweet,” he said against her skin.
She moaned. The sound tore from deep inside her at the same time the crowds cheered at the dropping of the ball.
“Happy New Year,” she said, drunk with pleasure.
“Happy New Year.” He pulled back, and she tilted her head, smiling at him, expecting him to kiss her again. After all, the first time had been spectacular and he obviously wanted her, too.
Instead, he pushed himself up and rose to his feet.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To get you a blanket so I can tuck you in. Much as it kills me, I’m going to be a gentleman.”
She started to rise, then decided it was too much effort. She hadn’t had alcohol in a long time and the champagne had gone straight to her head. Of course, it could also be his kisses that made her feel light-headed and dizzy.
“Sit tight,” he said, a sexy smile lifting his lips. “I’ll be right back.”
Amy lay her head back against the couch and shut her eyes, waiting for him to return. Maybe she’d be able to pull him down so they could finish what they’d started. Her mind might be hazy, but she was clear on what she wanted.
Amy wanted John Roper.
* * *
After hanging up with John, Cassandra Lee opened the screen door to her patio and walked outside into the warm air. Although she had to leave in half an hour for the New Year’s party she was attending, she had some things to work out in her mind first. Family things. Personal things. Scary things.
She paced the length of her outdoor pool. Normally the rhythm made by her small heels clicking against the stone provided a soothing sound that helped her think more clearly. But her life was truly overwhelming right now and she found it hard to concentrate.
On the one hand, she had director Harrison Smith pressuring her not just to take the role he’d created for her but to let him back into her life. Her daughter was getting married, and instead of enjoying the planning, Cassandra felt more distant from Sabrina than ever. Her youngest son couldn’t find himself and her oldest wouldn’t cut the youngest any slack. On top of it all, John was undergoing the worst career crisis of his life and Cassandra didn’t know how to help him.
At least he wasn’t alone on New Year’s. He’d said he had company, which in John’s world could mean a one-night stand, but something in his voice told her otherwise. The annoyance in his tone indicated he hadn’t appreciated the interruption. Normally John took her calls without question. Cassandra hoped there was something special about this woman, because her son needed happiness in his life. She just hoped whoever she was, she liked a close-knit family, because that’s what they were.
She picked up the phone and dialed her youngest son’s cell phone. “Hello, Ben,” she said when he answered on the first ring.
“Did you speak to John about the money for the gym?” he asked.
Cassandra sighed. She loved all her children, but truly Ben was the most selfish.
“Happy New Year, darling.” Lowering herself onto a cushioned lounge chair, she eased back against the pillow. “Yes, I tried to talk to him, but the timing was wrong. John was busy. He said he had company and I think it was a woman. You know we have to approach your brother at the right time. He’s got so much on his mind right now.”
“And I don’t? I could lose this opportunity,” Ben said.
“Not on New Year’s Eve, Benjamin.” Cassandra didn’t want to outright scold him. After all, he’d never had things quite fall his way, not the way John had. “What if you try talking to your brother yourself?” she asked.
“He hates me, Mom. He never wants to help, and when he does, he blames me when things go wrong. But he can’t say no to you. He never could. This is the big thing. I can feel it,” Ben said, his tone pleading.
Her heart squeezed tighter in her chest. “I’ll talk to him as soon as I can,” she promised.
“Thanks. I have to go.”
“I love you. Happy New—”
The phone line disconnected before she could finish.
Cassandra sighed. That was Ben. Well, at least she’d reached Sabrina and then Roper, wishing them both Happy New Years and receiving one in return.
She rose and headed inside to change and get ready for the party she was attending. The most mellow one of the year. A ladies-only affair among her closest friends, where she could end the old year the way she planned to start the new.
Avoiding her ex-lover Harrison Smith.
* * *
Amy awoke with a slight headache and fuzzy memories of an incredible night with a sweet man she’d once thought was anything but. She was glad she’d been wrong about him. As she stretched, she rolled over, and when she nearly fell face-first off the couch, she suddenly remembered where she’d spent the night.
On Roper’s couch.
In Roper’s apartment.
After that kiss.
“Oh, my God,” she groaned, tossing her arm over her face.
“Good morning,” he said in a gruff voice.
She peeked out and saw Roper standing over her with a glass of orange juice in hand. “Hi,” she managed to say through the fuzzy cotton taste in her mouth.
Knowing she’d have to face him sometime, she scooted upright, bending her knees in front of her. “Is that for me?” she asked, eyeing the cold juice hopefully.
He nodded. “I figured you’d be up soon.” He handed her the glass.
“Fresh squeezed?”
He rolled his eyes. “Now, that’s pushing your luck.”
She laughed. “I was curious just how far your culinary talent went.” She took a sip and then downed the glass in two big gulps. “Mmm. That is so good. I’m sorry I fell asleep.” The last thing she remembered was planning his seduction while waiting for him to bring her a blanket.
“Me, too.” His intense gaze burned into hers.
She swallowed hard. “I hope it wasn’t inconvenient having me stay over.”
“Only if you consider me lying awake in my bed knowing you were right in the next room inconvenient.” He spoke like a man who’d been a gentleman, but who’d definitely had second thoughts.
Thank goodness she couldn’t hold her champagne. “You’re a good guy, John,” she said, calling him by his given name.
“I like when you call me that.” His face actually flushed. “As for being a good guy, I’m pretty sure it was a first.”
She untangled herself from the blanket he’d covered her with. “I really should be getting home. The daytime doorman will let me in without a problem.” She hoped. She got up and folded the covers, leaving them in a neat pile on the couch. “I’ll just change and give you back your sister’s clothes.”
“There’s no rush. Why don’t you wear them home and I’ll get them from you the next time I see you.”
Meaning he wanted there to be a next time. So did she. But she had a plan for her life, and while last night she’d gotten carried away in the moment, helped by the alcohol, she had to put the brakes on here and now. Even if he was the guy she’d gotten to know last night and not the showman from the wedding, she needed time and space to get a foothold in her new life before getting involved in a relationship.
But she wasn’t going to make an issue out of a magnanimous gesture. “Are you sure your sister won’t mind?”
“She hasn’t stayed over since getting engaged, and even if she wanted to, there are more clothes in the closet. Trust me, she won’t care if you borrow some things.” He grinned then, a sexy gesture meant to sway her, and it worked.
“Okay, but I’m going to look pretty ridiculous wearing these sweats and my high heels from last night.”
“You’ll look cute, not ridiculous.” He ran his finger down the bridge of her nose, over the freckles she’d always found embarrassing because they made her look so young. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it, and the gesture felt incredibly intimate and sensual.
“Excuse me for a minute, okay?” she said, slipping by him so she could head for the bathroom before she got caught up in how delicious he looked wearing low-slung, unbuttoned jeans and no shirt.
His hair had been messed, either from sleep or from running a hand through it in place of a comb or brush. First thing in the morning he looked endearingly sexy, and she’d have to convince herself not to notice if she wanted to get out of here quickly, with a minimum of fuss. She was determined to make her morning-after-nothing-happened escape, thank you very much.
“Amy, are you okay in there?” Roper knocked on the bathroom door, startling her back to reality.
“Fine! I’ll be out in a sec.” She brushed her teeth with minty toothpaste and one finger before drawing a deep breath and heading out to face him again.
He’d slipped on a royal-blue Renegades sweatshirt and a pair of Nike sneakers.
No less handsome, she thought, holding back a frustrated frown.
He grabbed his keys from the bowl by the door.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He narrowed his gaze. “Where do you think? I’m taking you home.”
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. It’s broad daylight now.”
“And I’ll feel better knowing that your doorman is willing to let you inside the apartment without your key.” His tone left no room for argument. Neither did the fact that he picked up a garment bag in which he’d obviously hung her outfit. He handed her shoes to her and waited while she slipped them on.
“I feel silly,” she muttered as she followed him into the hall.
“Adorable,” he corrected her. Placing one hand on her back, he led her to the elevator. A moment later, the door opened and they stepped inside.
People joined them at various floors, leaving no time for conversation, and Amy was relieved. She tried not to feel as if she was sneaking out of a man’s apartment in last night’s clothes, but she wasn’t a pro at this. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t slept with him, she was embarrassed, anyway. She couldn’t help but feel people were looking at her—and him—and staring.
Because John was famous in this city and was certainly well known in his own apartment building, Amy figured it wasn’t her imagination, nor was she being paranoid. By the time the elevator came to a halt on the ground level, she practically ran toward the revolving doors.
Roper watched Amy teeter on those silly heels, which made her look both sexy and cute at the same time. He wanted to yell out and tell her they could take his car instead of a cab, but he figured that would call even more attention to her, something she obviously didn’t want.
He could understand her need to escape. She wasn’t used to strangers gawking at her the way he was. Since most women—heck, all the women he’d dated up until now—liked the fact that being with him put them in the spotlight, this was but another facet of her personality that made Amy unique. And special.
Ironically he was more convinced than ever that he’d done the right thing by not having sex with her last night. Now she would appreciate his sense of decency. No matter how hard it had been and how much sleep it had cost him.
Instead of following her through the revolving doors, he hit the handicapped automatic door and caught up with her outside on the sidewalk.
Just in time for the paparazzi to greet them with flashing lightbulbs and microphones shoved into their faces.
* * *
Roper fended off the vultures by answering their questions about who had spent the night in his apartment with deliberately chatty nonanswers, giving Amy time to escape.
From the corner of his eye, he saw her flag and get into a yellow cab before the press could stop her. He still held on to her clothes but decided not to worry about that now. No matter how hard he prodded, nobody in the group of reporters was willing to divulge their source or tell him why they’d chosen this morning to stake him out. It made no sense. Despite his recent notoriety, he was small-time news for a New Year’s Day morning.
Eventually he returned to his apartment, which felt emptier somehow without Amy in it, and he spent the day watching Bowl games with some teammates who showed up uninvited. He was grateful for the company and even ordered pizza as a show of goodwill. He might have cooked to impress Amy, but the guys could damn well eat takeout.
He called her to apologize and to make sure she’d gotten home okay, but he reached her iPhone voice mail. He didn’t know whether she was deliberately not answering the phone or if she had plans for the day. He left a message along with his number.
She never returned his call, which left him feeling surprisingly bummed out.
He awoke the next day, a Tuesday, feeling as if he’d never slept at all. Not a good sign. He’d hoped the coming year would be kinder than the last.
He had a meeting with Micki scheduled at the Hot Zone offices that morning—at her request. He figured he could pump her for information about Amy then. Roper hadn’t wanted to bother her yesterday, because he knew how rare her time with her husband and daughter actually was. After his New Year’s Day incident with the press, Roper could understand the appeal of solitude.
“Maybe I ought to buy myself an island,” he muttered. “Oh, that’s right, I can’t. I’m frigging cash poor and tapped out.” Okay, he knew that was an exaggeration.
He’d made damn good investments with his money and had prepared for the future from day one of his first big contract. He never wanted to be one of those athletes who pissed away their money and were left with nothing to show for it after their successful career was over. But his family was spending cash like water and he was the spout. He had no choice but to keep an eye on things—in case his career ended sooner than planned. He rubbed his shoulder and hoped the rehab and physical therapy would do the trick.
He finished his cappuccino, brewed in a state-of-the-art machine he’d bought last year, and decided he couldn’t wait to meet with Micki later this morning. He picked up his iPhone, needing to talk to his best friend now.
Roper wanted nothing more than some basic information on how to win Amy over. Who better than Micki, who’d rented Amy her apartment, to fill him in?
Roper already figured a girl like Amy might be intimidated by his status and celebrity. Last night he’d questioned the wisdom of getting involved with her once he’d discovered she was living and working in New York. One evening in her company had shown him how different she was from the other women he’d dated. He could no longer just walk away. He was determined to show her he was worth the hassle that came along with him, because he realized they could have a good time together.
And Roper believed in good times. Man, he could use some….
* * *
The woman looked spooked, he thought, watching as she ducked into the nearest cab, running from the paparazzi he’d notified. She wore sweats, a sweatshirt and high heels. A ridiculous combination, he thought. Just as ridiculous as the fact that her outfit from last night still dangled from Roper’s hands. He snickered. It’s about time Roper looked ridiculous.
He intended to make sure the media continued to know where Roper was and when, keeping him in the news, maintaining the negative press.
Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, he turned and walked down the street, away from the luxury building. He had no doubt the swarm of paparazzi would continue to circle and create trouble for John Roper.