Page 41 of Match Point

Leo released her hand, his harsh profile to her. He unbuckled his seatbelt. “We’ll get out here and meet you inside.”

Great, he was mad at her. Again. Sighing, Sorcha snapped the compact shut and tucked it into her purse. It was time to tuck away the past and get through the immediate future.

The hum of the street noises greeted her when Leo opened the car door. He held out his hand and she placed her palm in his, meeting his intense green eyes. Her own drifted to his mouth. A mad desire to step forward and close the space between them warred with her common sense. She wanted to feel his arms around her waist, the comfort of his wide chest beneath her cheek. They weren’t alone, the other two men in the car were watching. She dropped his hand and boosted her purse higher up on her shoulder.

“The restaurant is on the second floor. There’s a neon sign with a big arrow, you can’t miss it.” Leo placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the busy market. Tourists swarmed the area and the fish throwers were yelling at the crowd, tossing a huge salmon through the air to the delight of those gathered. Had the situation been less emotional, she’d have enjoyed the sight and insisted they explore a bit. People were already staring, whispering and pointing at her.

“Let’s cut through here.” Leo took her down a small set of stairs that ran next to a clear elevator and onto the second level. “I’m sorry, I’ll know better the next time. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get near you again.”

“I appreciate that.” So, he wasn’t mad at her, he was mad at himself. The neon sign he spoke of was a few feet ahead. A pair of heavy wooden doors led to the restaurant. A man opened the door and the smell of fragrant cheeses and bread floated out to her. “As nice as that sounds, it’s not possible. Until he does something in the States, they won’t do anything. So far, he’s kept his distance and we have an understanding of sorts. He doesn’t come within ten feet of me and I won’t bust his balls.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Sorcha allowed the garlic butter sauce to roll on her tongue, savoring the rich flavors of the shrimp scampi. Heaven on a plate. Vicenzo’s overlooked the Puget Sound, the waters a grey mass in the distance. Rain hit the window beside their booth, the weather as unpredictable as her future. The food, combined with the sexual release, should have lulled her into a relaxed state. She was surrounded by people, safe for the moment from Tim. But she was still troubled about what came next with her career and with Leo.

The Bellevue Invitational was fast approaching. Winning the tournament was the most important goal she’d ever set for herself. It would prove once and for all that she was the best in her sport. Except she’d been at the top before and the insecurity had dogged her every step. She stabbed another prawn and chanced a glance at Leo. He leaned back in his chair. He’d been quiet since they’d sat down, the silence not an unusual occurrence with him.

Her career was easy to map out, her relationship with him was more convoluted. Being sidetracked by sex wouldn’t be conducive to her concentration. At least it never had been in the past.

But then, she’d never been in love before.

The walls closed in and she dropped her fork, the sound startling the rest of the table. “Sorry, it slipped,” she said, heart in her throat. You’re not in love with Leo. She hadn’t been with a man for a while and lust was a powerful pull. Falling for Leo was the height of foolishness. He wasn’t the right guy for her in so many ways. Save for one; she needed someone stable, and he’d become her rock.

Howler pushed his plate back and folded his hands over his flat belly. “How are you enjoying it at Grams’?”

His words came at her through a fog and she willed the panic down. She had a crush. That was it. It would fade once he was no longer in her pocket. “I’d like to continue to train there if it’s okay with Grams. I find the isolation helps keep me focused.” Safe from unwanted attention, though once the tournament began, she’d be exposed to the public. No doubt, Tim would be there. The panic increased and she inhaled a steadying breath.

“We can make that happen, especially given what you told us today. The photographer will need to be dealt with,” Howler said, running his thumb down the condensation of his water glass, brow furrowed.

“I’ve tried everything before. Unless you can get the magazines to stop buying what he’s selling, I have to just deal with it.” She laid her napkin over her plate, her appetite gone. The stalking wasn’t a new phenomenon, but it was no less disturbing.

“I’m hiring you a bodyguard and if that man comes within ten feet of you again, I’ll do more than bust his balls,” Leo said.

“I don’t need a bodyguard.” Sorcha addressed Howler, careful not to look at Leo. He felt guilty about what happened, she could read it in his eyes. It wasn’t his problem. It was hers.

“You’re getting a bodyguard, Sorcha.” The steely thread in Leo’s voice grated on her last nerve.

Ignoring Leo’s dictate, she met Howler’s direct gaze. The last thing she wanted was more strangers in her sphere. She was living in a pleasant bubble and she didn’t want it to burst. “I’ll be at Grams house until the tournament. Leo and Tucker are enough protection if he should find me. It’s private property and if he trespasses, we can have him arrested.”

Howler tilted his head, his eyes flickering to Leo before he spoke. “Sorcha, you need a bodyguard. It’s not a punishment, it’s a requirement when you’re as high-profile as you.”

“Do you require bodyguards for all of your talent, both men and women?” She raised her chin, digging her heels in. They were talking over her, something that annoyed the shit out of her.

“If they have stalkers, yes.”

Trapped. She felt trapped, an all-too-familiar sensation since she’d gone pro. Had she been in a better position, she’d get up and walk. Keep telling yourself that. The past two weeks had been unique and therapeutic, cleansing her soul. Odd but true. Swallowing her pride, she offered a curt nod. “Fine.”

“Glad we can all agree on that one,” Tucker said, breaking the tension. He caught her eye and crooked his eyebrow, not even bothering to hide a smile.

“Shut up, Tucker.” Her own lips curled in a reluctant grin.

The stiffness left her body. She’d lost this match. It was the price she paid for being in the public eye. Resigned, she picked up the dessert menu and flipped through the pages. She’d need something sugary and sinful to commiserate.

“Where’s Raina tonight?” Leo asked.

“She’s working late on the last-minute details for the Pioneers’ fan appreciation day. Miller’s in town, so it’s all hands on deck.”

Sorcha snapped her head up. “Fan appreciation day? That sounds like fun.”

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