Page 17 of Match Point

Her eyelids fluttered open and confused blue eyes met his. “You stopped moving.”

“You’re home. Come on, let’s go in.”

“Where’s Trent?” She climbed out of the car, her limbs uncoordinated. The skimpy tank top was cut low, enhancing her cleavage, a hint of lace peeking out. White lace from her bra. Was she wearing matching underwear?

“He stayed at the bar.” He put his arm around her waist and tried to tamp down his imagination. What she wore was none of his business and he’d be better off not knowing. He guided her inside. The house was quiet, the woman in his arms walking, but barely.

“I’m here.” She leaned heavily against him, all soft curves and feminine heat. “I don’t want to be here. I want to be out dancing with Trent.”

“No, it’s time for you to go to bed.” He’d rather be home and away from temptation. Babysitter wasn’t the role he’d signed up for. Hell, he hadn’t signed up for any of this.

The bedroom was shrouded in darkness and she spun away from him. Kicking off one shoe, she stumbled toward the bed. He grabbed her hand to steady her and she fell hard against him. Chest to chest, she settled her lips on the underside of his jaw. “Yes, bed. Let’s go to bed.”

With the tempting way she pressed kisses to his heated skin, he was close, very close, to accepting her offer. It had been a while since he’d been laid, and she wasn’t making it easy to resist. She rolled her hips against his groin, warm mouth tugging at his earlobe.

“Sorcha, stop. You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re doing. You hate me, remember?” The need to escape her seductive web was strong, but like a fool, he stood still, welcoming more of her seduction. The feel of her breasts, soft and firm against his chest, had a devastating effect on his cock.

“I like a part of you. Well, maybe two parts of you.” She grabbed his ass with both hands and released a seductive sigh. “You have a really nice butt.”

A rush of heat encompassed him, his need for her rising at an alarming rate. Time to put a halt to this madness. He reached around and removed her fingers, needing distance. “My butt thanks you. Now, please, get into bed. It’s been a long day and I want to go home.”

“Oh, that’s right. You have a girlfriend. Kitty Kat. Did she let you touch her, um, oh wait, don’t tell me.” She burst into drunken giggles as she crawled onto the mattress. Red hair curtaining her face, she plopped onto her side. The heavy mass covered her face and she blew at the strands with little success. “Leo, help.”

“You really are a pain in the ass,” he said, his voice coming out huskier than he liked. He tucked the silky hair behind her ear. Perfectly made-up lids lowered, and her mouth parted in sleep. He’d dodged a bullet with that one. Shaking his head, he tugged her other shoe off. Time to get the hell out. He grabbed the blanket from a chair and covered her with it. There was no way he’d do more.

“Good night, Sorcha.” He shut the door behind him, tired and resigned. She was dangerous in more ways than one, and he was in trouble. Big trouble. Because as much as he wanted to leave, he wanted to stay even more.

Chapter Thirteen

Sorcha sat on the edge of the bed, her aching head in her hand. Was the pounding coming from the door or from her temples? Perhaps both. Rising to her feet, she placed her hands on her belly, her stomach roiling with each step. She inhaled and tried to keep herself from getting sick. It had been ages since she’d done something so rash. Like kiss Leo.

What the hell had she been thinking?

She groaned and opened the door. Leo stood on the threshold; his arms crossed over his chest. By the stern cast of his jaw, he wasn’t happy. “What?” she asked, not in the mood to placate him. She wanted to go back to bed and sleep this off.

“It’s 11 a.m. I let you sleep in,” he said, expectant green eyes boring into her. He’d removed the eyepatch and the full extent of his stare was disconcerting.

“It’s still too early to get up on my day off. We’ll talk on Monday.” She started to shut the door, but he shook his head, stepping inside. “I didn’t say you could come in. As far as I know, you might be some kind of pervert.”

A reluctant grin split his lips, the same lips she’d kissed. That had kissed her back.

“I could be, or I could be the guy getting you back on track. If anyone is the pervert in this scenario, it’s you. Let’s not have a repeat of last night.”

“Which part?” she asked and wished she hadn’t. Except they might as well address the elephant in the room. She’d kissed him in the club and tried to seduce him in her room. He’d turned her down.

“All of it. We’ll scrub the night clean and get back on task. Pack a bag with enough workout clothes for a week and meet me in the living room in fifteen. We’re getting out of the city for a while.” He turned to leave, but she clasped his forearm, his skin warm under her touch.

She dropped her hand to her side and cleared her throat. He was trying to railroad her again, but the nausea wouldn’t allow her to back down. “No, I’m not leaving the city, or my room for that matter.” Once she’d rid herself of him, she’d try to sleep off the hangover and not give into the bile that burned her throat.

He rested his fists on his hips. She raised her chin, waiting for the inevitable clash.

“You can’t afford to take a day off if you hope to even place in the Bellevue Invitational. Howler’s been working on a new sponsor, but your little episode last night has gone viral. They’re threatening to back out of the deal. No sponsor means no representation.”

“I was having fun at the bar. I wasn’t hurting anyone, and you insisted I leave for some sponsor. I’m not concerned about sponsors. I can sponsor my own damn self.” She curled her fingers into fists, indecision mixed with the instinct to attack back. She didn’t like answering to a bunch of priggish men in suits who wanted to use her face and name while she sat back and kept her mouth shut.

“Are you telling me none of those stories are based on reality? Because you were dancing in a cage and it’s all over the internet today.”

“What I do is my business.” The pressure she carried with her came back with a vengeance. She brought her hands to her face and turned on her heel, heading for the kitchen. She needed coffee, and quick.

---