Reese Ryan - Playing With Temptation

He scowled, the corners of his mouth pinched. His resentment of the question rolled off him in waves. His answer was quiet, but emphatic. “No.”

Kendra went to the coffee machine and refilled her cup. She held her hand out for his. “You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I’m a big girl. I can handle the truth.”

“I told you the truth. I wasn’t in love with her.” He thrust his empty cup into her hand. “We were only together a few months. What difference does it make, anyway?”

“Helps me understand her frame of mind. If we’re dealing with a woman scorned nursing a vendetta, we need to stay two steps ahead of her.” She returned the mug to him, filled with black coffee.

“That’s the only reason you want to know?” He peered at her over the rim of his mug as he took a sip of his coffee.

She returned to her seat and tapped a few keys on her computer, waking the screen up. “Of course.”

He smirked, unconvinced. With good reason. She was lying through her teeth.

“So, what led to this scandal and why does she have it in for you?” Kendra put down her mug, prepared to type her notes.

“Do we really need to get into all of this? It’s ancient history.”

“Not to her, I’m guessing.”

“Stephanie was listening to my phone calls. Checking my text messages. She discovered a teammate of mine was in serious trouble. She broke the story using the info she’d gathered, saying it was from an unnamed source. When I read the story, I recognized what she’d done. Since we were dating, my teammates and the public believed I’d been feeding Stephanie information. I broke it off with her, publicly denied I was the source and discredited her story.” He frowned. “She was fired, and none of the top media outlets wanted anything to do with her.”

“I’m sorry you ended up in the middle of it.”

“Should’ve known better than to sleep with the enemy, right?”

“Real journalists aren’t your enemy. They won’t always give you the glowing praise you want, but the good ones are honest and fair. They’re only interested in the truth. Those are the media personalities we need to make our allies.”

“Good luck finding any of those.” He finished his coffee and moved to the sink to rinse his cup.

“Got a few in mind. I think you’ll be pleased.”

He grunted, his biceps bulging as he folded his arms over his chest. The gray quick-dry athletic material stretched to accommodate his firm pecs. He flipped his wrist and checked his watch. “Anything else?”

Kendra swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Nate seemed fully aware of her reaction to him and utterly pleased with himself for evoking it. She shook her head. “No, I think we’re good. For now. I’ll keep you updated. Marcus’s assistant, Kara, gave me access to your calendar. I’ll add any interviews and appearances as I book them.”

“All right.” He pinned her with his gaze. “Is that all?”

“Kara will make the flight arrangements for your apology tour once you request meetings with each of the guys. I’d begin with Marauders’ owner Bud Flynn and then the head coach.”

The smug expression crumbled. “Why? I didn’t say anything about either of them.”

“This media circus is disruptive to the entire team. Besides, Bud has been like a second father to you. He gave you your big break. Don’t you think you owe him an apology?”

Nate sighed. “I’ll call him as soon as I’m done.”

“Good.”

“Don’t mean to rush you.” He checked his watch again. “But I have another appointment.”

“Right. Sorry. I know you’re busy.” Kendra put on her wrap and packed up her things. She slipped her bag on her shoulder, tucked the portfolio under her arm and turned around, nearly running into Nate.

“Look, I know I’m not the easiest guy to work with, but I do appreciate the work you’ve put into this.” He leaned in closer, his warm breath whispering against her skin. “And I just want you to know...”

The doorbell rang. Nate sighed and cursed under his breath before turning toward the door.

“Nate, what were you going to say?” Kendra followed him, her heart beating hard. Something in her desperately needed to know what Nate was going to say before they’d been interrupted by the bell.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shook his head then turned to open the door.

“I came a few minutes early so we could work on those positions you had so much trouble with the other day.” A tall, gorgeous blonde wearing a short skirt, a cropped top and thigh-high boots floated inside carrying a large duffel that looked like it weighed twice as much as she did. The woman finally noticed Kendra. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.”

“I was just leaving.” Kendra forced a polite smile.

Nate placed his hand low on the woman’s back and introduced them. “Layne, this is Kendra—Kai’s mom. She’ll be handling my PR. Kendra, this is my friend Layne.”

Layne gave Nate an odd smile before offering Kendra a limp handshake. “Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” She turned to Nate without waiting for a response. “I’ll go ahead and get everything set up.”

“Great. Thanks, Layne.”

The woman sauntered off, obviously familiar with the house.

“She’s pretty.” The words came out before Kendra could reel them back in. “She’s built like a dancer.”

Nate smirked, holding the door open a bit wider. “She takes great care of her body. And mine.”

“I certainly don’t want to get in the way of that.” Kendra forced a smile despite the deep ache in her chest at the thought of Nate and Ms. Ballerina Body doing God knows what. “I’ll follow up tomorrow to see how the phone calls went, and if I need to run interference with anyone.”

“Don’t think that’ll be necessary, but thank you. Kiss li’l man for me. Tell him Dad’s got a surprise for him this weekend.”

Before she could respond, he’d closed the door behind her. The sound echoed in her head like the closing of a vault.

Maybe she was still nursing feelings for Nate, but he’d obviously gotten over her.

Chapter 5

Nate sank into the whirlpool after his hot yoga session with Layne and made his calls.

He’d tucked his tail and done a good bit of explaining. First to Bud Flynn, then to Coach Emerson. Bud was out of the country. He tentatively accepted Nate’s apology by phone, but insisted they meet in person once he returned. He scheduled a meeting with Coach Emerson.

Nate left a message for two of his teammates and had incredibly awkward conversations with a few others.

Except for the team’s quarterback, Wade Willis, who agreed his performance had been subpar, none of the guys went easy on him. Eating a king-size slice of humble pie was exactly what he deserved for running his big mouth.

Tomorrow he’d board a plane to meet with Wade at his ranch in Montana. Then he’d head to Memphis for meetings with Coach Emerson and Lee Davis, the head of team personnel. He dreaded the meeting with Lee—the only member of the Marauders’ front office he’d never really seen eye-to-eye with. Lee had been itching to trade him, and the video scandal was just the ammunition he needed.

Nate slipped deeper into the water, allowing the warmth to wash over his aching muscles. The heat eased the tension in his shoulders and worked out the kinks in his back.

After eight years in the league, he was nursing his fair share of injuries. Each season it became more difficult to rebound from the beating his body took on any given Sunday.

If he were smart, he’d forget about a new contract and retire. Accept that he was a great player in his own right, but would never know the pride of hoisting a championship trophy. He’d be in good company. A host of athletes in every major sport were on that list.