LITMIR.BIZ

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happened. Why did she hide herself? What was so awful that she’d turned herself into a caricature of a woman with too much money and too few morals? More importantly, why did he care? That was the question that wouldn’t leave him in peace.

      “Those are some deep thoughts.” Leo’s voice broke into his unexpected reverie.

      “Oh. Sorry. Just running over some things in my mind.”

      “Some things?” Leo asked. “Or someone?”

      “Enough.” Rafe cut him off. “Is that all you can talk about?”

      “Well, we could discuss the uptick the team has taken since the name change.” Leo dipped a piece of the Italian bread and stuffed it into his mouth.

      “According to what I’ve heard,” Rafe said, “it seems people are split evenly between a good and bad decision. But you can’t argue with the fact the team’s been winning.”

      “They have,” Leo agreed. “Best streak since Tate Manning got hurt and had to retire.”

      “Boy, that was a damn tragedy.” Rafe shook his head. “It nearly destroyed his life.”

      “But it didn’t. Amazing what the love of a good woman can do.” Leo grinned. “Maybe that’s what you need, Rafe. Then you wouldn’t be such a sourpuss.”

      “Sourpuss?” Rafe lifted his eyebrows. “I consider myself serious, not sour.”

      Leo shrugged. “Whatever. I can only tell you since Jeannie and I got married my life has improved a thousand percent.”

      “Yeah, well, we can’t all be that lucky with a woman.” Rafe should know. He seemed to have made a series of bad choices. Lately he’d just decided to avoid women completely. As he’d rediscovered in his shower, his right hand did the job and didn’t give him any problems.

      But it doesn’t replace a living, breathing woman.

      Shut up, he told the voice in his brain. He was doing just fine.

      Thank God Leo spent the rest of the meal discussing the team and the upcoming schedule. They chatted about some of the players who needed some extra work, those who might be aging out of the game, what the future held for the Hawks. Neither man wanted dessert, so they paid their checks and made their way down the open staircase and out of the restaurant.

      Just at the doorway, Rafe stopped. A tiny chill had raced down his spine, the kind of feeling you get when someone is watching you or danger is near. But what kind of danger would there be in a restaurant? He looked around, scanning the diners, but nothing seemed to catch his eye. He just had the feeling—

      He’d been watching too much television. Either that or he still carried the vestiges of his confrontation last night with Dewey. But Dewey wouldn’t be having lunch at Al Dente. And this was just plain stupid. Idiotic.

      He made his way out the door and into the crowd moving along the Riverwalk. Maybe he’d been braced for trouble at the stadium for too long, belligerent drunks and angry fans. Maybe he just needed a little time out of the office.

      Maybe he just needed to get laid.

      At that, he snorted and blended into the crowd moving along the walkway.

      * * * *

      Malevolent eyes followed Rafe as he headed out of the restaurant.

      Asshole! Jackass! Bastard!

      He wanted to spit on him, then pulverize him into the ground. The thought of the man with Tyler made him sick to his stomach. If he hadn’t been keeping an eye on her, he would never have been aware of what happened the previous night. It was enough to enrage him.

      Who the fuck did the rich princess think she was, anyway? Damn good thing she hadn’t invited Rafe into her house when he brought her home. Watching that kiss had been bad enough. It should have been his mouth on hers. His hands touching her body. He would have made damn sure he got inside her place. And then got inside her.

      Thinking about it now he had to stop himself from licking his lips. He was in a public place, for fuck’s sake. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, steadying himself. If he didn’t stop having these thoughts about her, he’d have an erection that nothing he wore could hide.

      He’d called her that morning, just wanting to hear her voice. Maybe, he’d thought, this time he’d say something. Let her know who was making these calls. How special she was to him. But the moment he’d heard her voice, he’d just shut up like a clam. Maybe this wasn’t the time to let her know how he felt. Bring it out in the open. So he’d just listened to her angry voice until she hung up.

      Taking a moment, he slipped into the men’s room, saw that it was empty and pulled his cell out of his pocket. He punched speed dial for the familiar number and listened while it rang. This was dangerous. He never called her when he knew she was with someone else. But seeing her and Ortiz in the same place after last night had his blood boiling. He needed to start letting her know who was boss.

      He waited, watching for anyone else to enter, but the phone just rang and rang. He realized with a start it didn’t even go to voice mail. What the hell? He hung up and dialed again. Same result. He gave the instrument a hard look. What the fuck was going on? He nearly threw the phone against the wall in his anger but caught himself just in time. Instead he gripped it in his hand, clenching it tightly, and forcing a calm he was far from feeling. He could not afford to let anyone see him like this. Too many questions to answer.

      Shit!

      Work was calling. But as soon as he was free he’d send her a message that she better not fuck with him again. Even if he never said a word, she’d damn well better take his calls.

      Finally settled enough to be around others, he exited the restroom. Maybe he could cut out of work early today. Find out where Tyler was.

      And send her a new message.

      * * * *

      Tyler parked in her driveway, thinking in the back of her mind that she might go out later so the car would be right there in the driveway waiting for her. She let herself into her town house, juggling her mail and three shopping bags, and headed directly for the kitchen. After stashing the food, she took a half bottle of Riesling from the fridge. She grabbed a wine glass and poured a healthy drink for herself. Two swallows and her nerves began to settle. She took the bottle and the glass with her out to her patio, settled in her lounge chair, and filled her glass again. The sun had not yet begun to set but its late day rays bathed everything with a warm glow, soothing her jangled nerves.

      For some reason this morning’s phone call had unsettled her more than the others. She had basically ignored them in the beginning, thinking they were a wrong number. However, when they persisted, she’d begun to get irritated. It hadn’t yet occurred to her to be nervous about them. Now she wondered if she should, if there was something sinister about them.

      Dramatic much?

      Again the thought popped into her head that some guy in one of the many bars she hung out in might have clipped her number when she left her phone sitting out. Lately after a few drinks, she found herself getting careless about things like that. That was not good. Not good at all. She realized she was falling into a dangerous pattern but wasn’t sure how to change it. And here she was ready to head out again tonight and do the same thing.

      Stay home, a little voice in her head told her. Don’t go out tonight. Stay away from those places and the men you find there. At least she wasn’t falling into bed so easily any more. Too many unpleasant experiences had effectively killed that urge a very long time ago. Now it was more show than go. Still, she couldn’t remember the last time she actually felt the stirrings of real desire.

      Then she thought about Rafe and all her girl parts suddenly woke up and began doing a happy dance. What was it about that damn man, anyway? Surely she still didn’t have a hangover from her stupid teenage crush, right? She started to take another sip of wine, then stopped

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