Page 5 of Thoroughly Innocent Intent

And if just looking at each other makes us lose our composure, it makes me wonder what would happen if we did more than look.

I know I shouldn’t be thinking about these things when I’m supposed to be working with her, but this little staring contest is the most powerful interaction I’ve ever had with a woman sans touching, and that despite the fact she isn’t even my type. I like bold and adventurous, not conservative and plain. Although, those knowing gray eyes are hardly plain, and the silky chocolate strands hanging from her ponytail might be kind of sultry when they’re let loose around her face.

I’m sort of intrigued by the idea of finding out what’s underneath that stiff suit, literally and figuratively, when I realize we’re having the same face off we had at the door, only now we’re seated around her desk. I barely remember walking into the room, let alone sitting down, and that gets my blood pumping. Has a woman ever made me lose time?

“So, Samantha,” I drawl, curious what other reactions she can pull from me. “Do we talk at this meeting, or can you make a recommendation just by looking at me?”

The sweet pink flush that creeps up her cheeks makes me unreasonably proud. I shouldn’t feel so pleased with myself for making her flustered, but it’s comforting to know I’m not the only one off-kilter.

After a few false starts, she rambles on about what she does, but I don’t really hear any of it. I’m too busy watching the way she squirms under my gaze. The way she’s crossing her legs and shifting around in her seat tells me she’s got an ache down there, and damn if that doesn’t make me ache in return.

It makes me want to put my hands on her and relieve the pressure we feel, but those wide gray eyes are projecting more fear than lust, and until I know why that is, I’ll be keeping my hands to myself.

She lays down her pen as she finishes her spiel, obviously waiting for me to say something, although I have no idea what, since I was barely listening.

I swallow, trying to find my voice. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“Which part?” She purses her lips, and I can tell that despite the fact she’s physically drawn to me, I’ve offended her by focusing on her body instead of her words. Shit. It was an honest mistake. I couldn’t help my own body’s reaction to her.

“Might as well start from the beginning.” I take a chance that she’s the kind of woman who appreciates honesty over excuses.

Damn, her glare could turn a man to stone, but her anger seems to have trumped her arousal because this time, as she explains her business, she’s the epitome of composure. And even though I find her clipped tone kinda hot, I focus on her words and learn she’s got a pretty cool gig.

She’s started some pretty big-name charities, she’s passionate about making a difference, which I totally respect, and she’s passionate about getting people involved. Chaser was definitely on track when he recommended her. She’s exactly what I need to figure out what causes are a good fit for me.

“Chase seems to think you don’t really have any interests outside football that would point us toward a specific cause. Is that fair to say?” She raises her eyebrows, but somehow manages to look annoyed instead of amused.

“Probably.” I chuckle. Her no nonsense expression is kinda cute.

“Well, why don’t you tell me what you enjoy when you’re not playing ball and we’ll see if there’s anything to work with.” She holds her pen at the ready over a piece of paper.

“Honestly, when I’m not playing ball, I do everything I’m not allowed to do during the season. I travel, I eat food that tastes good instead of what’s good for me, I go out with my teammates and stay up past my normal bedtime. I date.” I flash her a smile, realizing only after that slipped out that she was no longer scowling at me. Oops.

“Okay, travel.” She nods, overlooking my little attempt to flirt. “Have you noticed anything that bothered you on your trips? Poverty, starvation, the way women or minorities are treated in other countries, or even in this country?”

“What kind of places do you think I travel to? I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“Alright, it doesn’t sound like travel is our strongest option.” She makes a note. “Moving on, food. Maybe we can turn your love of food into something to address hunger, supporting farmers, helping people make better food choices.” She rambles as she writes. “What do you eat, do you cook, do you grow anything?”

“I’ll try anything once, I do more grilling than actual cooking, and if there’s any plant alive at my house, it’s because the housekeeper and landscaper keep them that way.” I wink to the top of her head since her eyes are glued to her paper.

“Food doesn’t sound like our strongest option either, but I won’t cross it off the list just yet. Unfortunately, I can’t really do anything with partying or dating. Tell me more about what life is like during the season.” Her tone is level, all business. I wonder if that’s for my benefit, or just the way she works.

“Workouts, practice, clean eating, little or no drinking, no going out except for the occasional dinner with my teammates, and no dating.” I add, just to see if it trips her up. I’m dying to see her riled again.

“So, healthy eating is still on the table.” She presses on, oblivious or undeterred I can’t tell. “What about health history? Anything in your background healthy eating would benefit? Diabetes, heart disease, autoimmune disorders…”

“Nope, nothing. Healthy as a horse.” I lean back in my chair and thread my fingers together on my stomach.

“Alright.” She sighs, “Let’s try another angle. Why do you want to get involved in something charitable? Why now?”

“My agent thinks my image revolves too much around football.”

“Right, but why does that matter? You’re still playing, shouldn’t your image be focused on football?” She finally looks up, giving me a glimpse of the cute little furrow in her brow.

“For now.” I nod. “But I can’t play forever.”

“True.” She pulls at her bottom lip with her thumb and forefinger. “But as long as you’re playing, who cares if your image revolves around football? Why change it? Unless you want to do something after you retire. A second act maybe? Doing what?” Her eyes seem to focus on me for the first time since I sat down, seeing past the shell I know she’s attracted to. It makes my chest feel tight. Warm.

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