Page 29 of Love Game

She blinked, a frown transforming the clean, classic lines of her face as she glanced at her skirt. “It’s not see-through.”

He widened his eyes, trying for an innocent look. “No? Must just be my overactive imagination.”

Sticking her chin up in the air, she turned her back on him and started toward the sideline. There, he spotted the open shoe box and fought back a smile. A profusion of discarded tissue nearly masked a pair of shoes comprised of two thin straps of black leather and spindly heels.

Four-inch heels. They stood eye-to-eye as it was. The addition of those shoes would make her tower over him. A prospect he found oddly arousing.

Odd, because he’d always liked the tiny girls. Little, delicate things he had to stoop to kiss. The kind of woman he could sweep off her feet literally and figuratively. Willowy figure notwithstanding, there was no doubt in his mind Kate Snyder could take him down. Hard. Physically, psychologically, and professionally.

And damn if that didn’t make him want her more.

She dropped into the chair beside the box and toed off the retina-searing shoes. Eyeing him skeptically, she stripped off snowy-white ankle socks and balled them in a swift, practiced move. “Was there something I could help you with?”

The slight quaver in her voice sparked his curiosity. “Would you?”

Her sleek, brown hair cascaded over one shoulder when she cocked her head. He stared transfixed as she reached for one of the discarded sandals.

Shoe dangling from the crook of her finger, she raised an eyebrow. “Would I what?”

Discomfited by the directness of her gaze and the beginnings of what would certainly be a hard-on of epic proportions, he shoved his hands into his pockets and gave a stilted shrug. “Help me.” Her look of shocked innocence made him laugh. “Yeah, well, call me crazy, but I get the distinct feeling you don’t want me here.”

“Crazy.” Kate tipped her head back and stared straight into his eyes. “Why on earth would you think I wouldn’t want you?”

He froze, but God help him, his dick stirred. Resisting the need to adjust the growing tightness in his pants, he fell headfirst into that steady, golden gaze. “Do you?”

She wet her lips with the tip of her pink tongue and, for the first time in his life, he wished he had access to slow-motion replay. He tossed whatever half-assed game plan he had, stepped out of the pocket, and threw a Hail Mary.

He bent at the waist, his hands closing around the biceps he’d just been admiring as he pressed his mouth to hers. Her lips were sweet and damp. Impossibly soft, despite the fact that her body stiffened in surprise. Then she relaxed into the kiss with a soft gasp of surrender, and he lost all semblance of reason.

He dropped to his knees. A jolt of pain sailed through his body, but then her arms were around him too, and he couldn’t care less. One hand slid up his neck. Her fingers were in his hair. Fingernails scored his shirt and bit into his shoulder as she arched into the kiss.

“Jesus,” he panted when they came up for air. Pressing his forehead to hers, he ran his hand over her hair and then tucked it behind her ear just as he’d seen her do countless times. Mustering superhuman strength, he pulled back far enough to whisper, “This is insane.”

“I have a date.”

Her voice was faint, tinged with shock. Danny fell back on his heels, what little air he had left exploding from his lungs. He watched as the hands that mussed his hair and wrinkled his shirt groped for the sexy sandals. Fuck-me heels she planned to wear for another man. She wriggled her polished toes under the toe strap, and a surge of white-hot jealousy and anger balled in his gut.

“Who?”

Tugging the other strap up over her heel, she ducked her head to avoid his eyes. “None of your business.”

“The hell it isn’t.” He stifled a groan as he rolled to his feet, ignoring the creaks and pops of his joints. He glared at her, but she remained stubbornly silent.

They sized each other up, looking for chinks in the armor they both wore. Recognizing a little of himself in her defiant gaze, he nodded shortly. “Fine. Yeah. Okay. Go on with your date. I hope you enjoy it.”

He let his insincere good wishes hang in the charged air between them.

“But remember who kissed you first tonight, Kate.”

She stared up at him, her lips parted and wet, hunger gleaming bright in her eyes. He had her just where he wanted her. She was off balance. Rattled, like he was. And that was good. Damn good.

“Remember who kissed you first. Then tomorrow, you come tell me who kissed you best.”

He turned on his heel and strode the length of the court, gratified to note she didn’t recover until his foot hit the bottom riser.

“What makes you think you were so great?” she called, her voice high and tight.

He chose not to chase after that ball. Instead, he snagged the smooth leather handle of his briefcase without breaking stride and headed for the steps. His heart hammered as he took the stairs two at a time. At the mouth of the tunnel, he turned back.

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