Page 170 of The Penalty

Whispers fluttered through the reporters. Several glanced at their phones, their eyes widening.

At the same time, a few looked over at the sideline. I didn’t have to look to know who they saw. I could feel Xavier’s intense stare ripping through me.

One reporter held up his phone and asked, “Would you mind commenting on this latest photo?”

Expectant faces stared at me. My phone vibrated. According to the spreadsheet, another wave was due right about now.

“Excuse me for a minute,” I told them, walking away.

When I looked at the phone, my heart thundered.

Panic blossomed in my stomach. Even though I knew when the pictures would be released, I didn’t know what they’d show.

I stared at the image of me in a silver silk gown with my legs wrapped around Xavier’s waist, and pure ecstasy etched on my face. He had me pressed against an ivy covered wall. Lights from the Manhattan cityscape glowed in the background. Even though the angle was high and most likely taken from a distance, whoever captured this photo used a powerful lens. It was easy to see what we were doing.

The terrace.

The night we reunited at the fundraiser.

Our intimate moment in a public setting was immortalized in Jordan’s sick and twisted game.

Anger feasted on my panic, obliterating it. I straightened my shoulders. Now wasn’t the time to shrivel up and call it quits. Now was the time to enter the arena.

Microphones and cameras pointed at me when I walked toward the reporters. Xavier remained on the sideline, watching my every move. An impassive expression dominated his features but his eyes flared with outrage.

I knew his instinct was to protect me and unleash his fury in front of the cameras. Convincing him to let me handle this part of our plan hadn’t been easy. But even now, behind his anger and fear, I saw his trust and support.

“As you no doubt have seen, I’ve become somewhat of a minor celebrity on all the gossip sites this weekend.” A smattering of nervous laughter rolled through the group. “I’ll keep this short because today is about the New York Legends playing their first international game here in London. Our partnership with Royal City is exciting and we can’t wait to watch it flourish in the coming years.”

Despite my racing heart, I was strangely calm. Scanning the reporters, I locked eyes with the actual Justin Kirby from the London Independent News. He and I had a little meeting yesterday to discuss what I’d be saying here today, and what he’d ask. Fitting, since Jordan pretended to be him when he called the stadium last spring.

“It’s come to my attention that I’m the target of an elaborate blackmail scheme. Many of the photos are fakes. My personal files were hacked and the photos were manipulated digitally.” I took a deep breath. “Others are real. All of them are meant to intimidate me into paying out a large sum of money.”

A wave of murmurs rumbled quietly through the reporters.

“Steps are being taken to shut this campaign down. That’s all I have to say. Please enjoy the game.”

Justin lifted his hand, recognizing his cue.

I gestured toward him. “I’m not taking questions, Justin.”

“This seems personal,” he pressed, ignoring my statement just like any good journalist would. “Calculated. You’re being portrayed in a very specific light. Is there a jilted lover pulling the strings?”

I suppressed a pleased smile. He’d finessed our agreed-upon question, teeing up my answer perfectly.

“It is calculated. But it’s not a jilted lover. Just someone desperate for attention.” I stepped to the side. “Thanks again. See you all after the game.”

The murmuring grew louder as I walked toward Xavier. His sapphire eyes burned in dynamic blue flames.

“You were brilliant.” He reached for my hand.

“Years of training.” I leaned closer and whispered, “Are they watching?”

His sinful, dark smile slid through me like rich, molten caramel. “Yes, love.”

Xavier lowered his mouth to mine, softly brushing our lips together. Sliding his fingers through my hair, he pulled it gently to tilt my head back. Our mouths moved together in whispers of warmth and softness.

Then he captured my lower lip between his teeth and bit down hard.

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