Jamie could have upped the size of her nose times three and she’d still bet a tight skirt would have yielded information. It was one of those endearing quirks of the male species that they were hardwired to respond to a woman’s legs.
“I can’t right now,” the shortstop star was saying to one of the reporters, keeping his responses brief and his feet moving.
“Do you have a date with Jamie McRae?” one of the camera wielders shouted over the din of other questions. “Did you know about her infamous past before you met?”
“How long have you known each other?” someone else asked.
“Did you hit that three-run homer for her tonight?” another pressed.
“The hit was for the team,” he replied, calm and charming in the face of ten microphones aimed for his mouth.
His movement toward the car brought the throng with him like a swarm of bees, the noise level rising with their proximity. Jamie hoped she could find a way to slide into the car without much fuss, but the closer he came, the more difficult it seemed. She’d been proud of herself for slipping her own press. She hadn’t fully prepared for confronting his.
And it was formidable.
Panicked, she sidled closer to the passenger-side door as Lance noticed her. She could tell the instant he spotted her since she felt his eyes on her clear down to her toes like a physical caress. A man’s glance should never have that much power over a woman. But the butterflies in Jamie’s stomach picked up their jittery dance at one look from those melted chocolate eyes of his.
And damned if he didn’t see right past the fake nose, the sunglasses and the hat. The shift in his expression from coolly determined to surprised and curious was as plain as the oversize nose on her face.
At least, she hoped she was reading him correctly.
There might be hell to pay if she jumped into his car uninvited. Not that she hadn’t danced with the devil a time or two in her day.
“Get in,” he ordered, pressing a button on his key remote that sounded a click of the doors unlocking. The engine rumbled to life before he reached the vehicle, a trick of a remote starter.
Hurrying to do as he asked while all eyes in the parking garage turned to her, Jamie slid into the passenger seat and locked herself side. Slumping down in the seat to avoid the sea of camera lenses swinging in her direction, she admired Lance’s easy athleticism and economy of movement as he folded himself into the driver seat. He put the car in Reverse before the door was even shut.
“We meet again,” he observed lightly, flipping down her sun visor to help shield her face from the spectators beginning to recognize her.
“I had no idea you’d be so mobbed after a game or I would have found another way to get in touch with you.”
The garage’s security staff was already moving the crowd to one side, clearly accustomed to protecting the players from this kind of thing.
“You failed to notice what an uproar our first meeting created?” He whipped the car around as soon as he had enough room to maneuver.
Wasting no time, he jammed down on the gas pedal and steered them around to the upper levels where an attendant waved them through to an exit that would put them on the West Side Highway. They were as good as home free.
Jamie pulled off her nose and swiped away the thin film of stage makeup that had held it in place. Depositing it into her bag, she hit the ignore button on her cell phone for the umpteenth time that day.
“Actually, I’ve worked hard not to notice since I’ve had all the bad news I can handle this year.” Tipping her head back onto the seat rest, she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the speed of the luxury sports car, the motor humming with the smooth accent of superb foreign engineering. The scent of leather and a subtle bay rum aftershave soothed her.
The thought triggered a frisson of warning down her neck. How could she feel so calm in the presence of a powerful, moneyed man? Would she ever learn her lesson where these kinds of guys were concerned? Straightening, she shook off the sweet languor and resurrected a few protective barriers.
Well, she did place her oversize purse on the console between them.
“So you avoided the news all day, but you didn’t avoid me.” He turned to flash a quick wink before focusing once again on the road. “I like that.”
Her heart skipped a beat at his easy flirtation. He had a charm that drew her in without making her feel pressured or like he was giving her the hard sell. There was something warm and genuine about the man despite his fame and his millions.
“About that—”
“I wanted to see you again, too.”
Now her heart skipped more than a beat. It seemed to miss a whole sequence, freezing her in place for a moment while she tried to absorb what those words meant. How could such a simple statement carry so much impact?
And how could the city’s favorite son want to hang out with the country’s breast-baring scarlet woman?
“You did?” The vital organ that halted a moment ago now beat with renewed flurry, making her all jittery inside.
She shoved all thought of her plan for containing this mess aside to hear him out.
“Definitely.” He sounded resolved, his jaw locked in a determined jut as she stared at his profile. “I’ll admit it probably doesn’t make sense for either of us on paper. And I’m sorry your split from your ex put you through such a public ordeal. But I couldn’t get you out of my head today and I don’t think ignoring what happened between us is going to make it disappear.”
“It was nothing,” she insisted, more to herself than him. She’d replayed the handful of words exchanged in an everyday, ordinary conversation at the coffeehouse many times and couldn’t come up with any quantifiable reason she should be so attracted to Lance. “We didn’t even say anything marginally intelligent to one another. We just stared and ogled like a couple of teenagers, right?”
Although, she had to admit, that had been kind of nice. For months, guys had made lewd comments about the catfight. Even guys she’d known and had thought would be above making inappropriate comments had disappointed her, framing icky remarks in the context of a “joke.” It’d been a long time since a guy made her feel sweetly self-conscious the way Lance had today. For a few moments he’d had her wishing she could spend hours hanging out with him. Getting to know every little thing about him.
“You waited by my car in a fake nose to tell me what happened didn’t mean anything?” He peered into the rearview mirror and then changed lanes quickly, surprising her with a fast exit off the highway.
“I had a good reason for that.” She turned to look behind them and saw a second car swerve onto the exit ramp and nearly hit a city garbage truck. “Has that guy been following us?”
“Ever since the parking garage.” Lance navigated the city streets with the ease of a native, finding his way east toward midtown around buses and pedestrians. “I’m taking you to my place so we can talk in private.”
The words hung in the air between them like a dare, challenging her to contradict him. How could she get involved with another powerful man whose career would overshadow the fledgling singing venture she’d sidelined for too long even before her divorce?
Worse, how could she allow her crappy claim to fame taint his image and draw all kinds of negative press his way?
“Maybe we should use a run-in with the media to our advantage,” she suggested, knowing she’d never be able to articulate her plan once she was alone with him in his apartment. She’d already been dazzled speechless by him once today.