plik

Too Close For Comfort

Lisa Renee Jones

Published 2004

ISBN 1-931761-87-6

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 6280

Crittenden Ave, Indianapolis, Indiana. Copyright © 2004, Lisa Renee Jones. All rights
reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise,
without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books

http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com

Email:

raven@liquidsilverbooks.com

Cover Art

by Donette Smock

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of

the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual
events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Prologue

Even sex had lost its appeal.
And damn if he thought he would ever see that day. But the simple fact was, sex now

came with too many hidden agendas.

Gone were the days when sex was just sex, two peoples' mutual desire to share their

bodies, a release that came with pleasure and maybe some sincere emotion if it was with
the right person.

He let out a disgusted snort.
Who was the last woman he was with who hadn't thought he was a score because he

was a pitcher in the majors? He couldn't even remember. The less naive he had become,
the more he had looked back at the past and realized there had been a lot of bullshit in
most of his adult relationships.

Corey Evans stood behind the mahogany wet-bar in the far corner of his basement-

level den. It was his room of peace, the place he always chose to unwind and embrace
being by himself, a sanctuary of sorts.

A place he pretended to be normal.
This was his hiding place from the public eye.
But he wasn't normal or he wouldn't be getting death threats from a crazy fan. No, he

was a pro-baseball player, a pitcher even. He had it all.

Or so everyone thought.
A television hung from the ceiling, just above the bar, even though a massive big

screen sat in the center of the room. Corey never wanted to miss a major sporting
moment because he was across the room. He needed to see the action up close and
personal.

Leaning his palms against the railing, he struggled to stay focused on the television.

The Rangers were playing baseball at its finest, which usually held his interest. He had a
special fondness for several of their players. After all, he had played side by side with
them for years.

He'd never forget the day he got the call, the day he was told he was going to the big

show, pitching for the Rangers. Even years after and two teams later, he still loved that
team.

Yet today his mind lingered on the upcoming meeting his manager had arranged with

some security specialist.

Shelby Allen.
A woman.
Why had he agreed to meet her? He wasn't even slightly inclined to agree to extra

security. What he really wanted was to be left the hell alone.

What was making him so dissatisfied with life in general? Most people would kill for

his life. Of course, very few understood the things that were lost when in the public eye.

He stared in the direction of the television without really seeing it, absentmindedly

tapping a finger on the bar.

Chapter One

Leave it to a man to get a woman in trouble.
Shelby Allen gritted her teeth just thinking of the loser husband her sister had

hooked up with and now dumped.

Just not soon enough.
Kyle Rogers, the low-down scum-of-the-earth jerk, had hooked her sister, Carrie, on

gambling to the tune of twenty thousand dollars, which Carrie had proceeded to ask
Shelby for as flippantly as if it were a cup of sugar.

Though Allen Security was doing well, it had only opened a year ago, and her money

was tied up in start-up expenses. Twenty thousand dollars was like asking for water in a
desert.

It wasn't happening.
Only it had to happen or Carrie would be in hot water.
Because some wrestler-looking dude kept showing up at all hours of the night,

threatening to use the baseball bat he carried around with him, to influence Carrie's
pocket book.

Shelby sighed heavily, and shoved a long lock of her straight, brunette hair behind

her ear, as she followed her old friend, Dan Mortan, through the foyer of Corey Evan's
house. Dan turned to look at her. "You okay?"

Shelby forced a smile. "As fine as I can be considering I let you talk me into this in

the first place. You know how I feel about working for athletes."

"You don't know what it's like to work with an athlete. You dated Joey; you didn't

work for him." His expression held just a hint of reprimand.

Shelby's lips tightened. "I saw how he treated the people who worked for him, and I

don't want any part of being a doormat for some over-inflated ego."

"Joey Martin was and is a great quarterback, but he's also a crummy person and a

lousy friend. I know this and you know this. I took his abuse professionally; you took it
personally. But one bad relationship with an athlete should not make you pass up good
business opportunities with another. Taking on Corey Evans in place of Joey on my client
roster was one of my best decisions ever. He is the top pitcher in the game of baseball,
yet he's as down-to-earth as they come. Give him a chance, Shelby."

"I have no trouble getting clients," Shelby said, and it was the truth. She worked

mainly in the music industry, having been a dancer for one of the it singers of the
decade—prior to her parent's death.

She had learned all the ins and outs of security for the stars on purpose, knowing one

day she would take her father's law enforcement background and put it to use with a
high-end clientele ... only she had hoped she would be doing it with her father by her
side.

It had been their dream, her and her father's, to open Allen Security together. One he

had never lived to see come to fruition.

"I'm proud of you and how well your business has done. But how many of those jobs

pay what I have offered?"

Shelby frowned. "Dan," she said with an apology in her voice, "I owe you for a lot of

moral support in the past. I don't want you to think the money is the only reason I'm
here."

He smiled, his expression softening. He had always been like a second father to her.

It's why she had even told him about Carrie. If it had been anyone else she would have
kept it private. "I don't think that," he reassured her. "But I do know you need the money,
so it helped me get you here. Now, let's get the introductions under way, shall we?"

Shelby nodded and followed Dan into a large, dimly lit room with a full bar against

one wall. She caught her first glimpse of Corey as he stood behind the bar.

And damn if her stomach didn't flip-flop. Even her mouth went dry. Her reaction was

over the top, and not at all expected.

He was sexy as hell and exactly the kind of guy Shelby swore off years before. With

determination, she pushed her instant attraction to him away. One run-in with a
professional athlete was enough to last a lifetime, thank you very much.

Even taller than she had pictured, he was a dominating figure, towering well above

the top of the bar. His broad, dark good looks were far more devastating to the female
senses—or at least hers—in person, than they were on television or in magazines.

Dan, a black man who looked more like an athlete, a linebacker in particular, than

Corey's manager, walked towards the bar, smiling at Corey as he did.

He positioned himself on top of a barstool, and motioned Shelby forward. "Come

meet Corey."

"Yes," Corey said in a voice that almost seemed to taunt. Then he added, "Come

meet Corey."

Okay. That most definitely was a taunt.
At least his personality wasn't going to draw her as his looks did. "Don't have to,"

she mumbled to herself. "Met one arrogant athlete, met em' all."

"What?" Dan asked.
Shelby smiled at Dan, her lips tight, her muscles tense. "Nothing."
"Nothing she wants to repeat," Corey said, drawing her attention and then winked at

her.

Shelby frowned, still standing just inside the doorway, her feet seemingly cemented

to the floor. For some reason she hesitated to move forward, as if she was entering the
lion's den. Had the lion himself heard her from clear across the room?

Surely not. Yet... The look on Corey's face said yes. Not that she cared. Let him hear.

They needed to establish right up front that she wasn't a rug to be walked on.

When she spoke again, she made sure he heard her. "Smarter than the average

athlete. Point for you."

He laughed. "Good. I like being on top."
Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him. Was there a double meaning to his words?

His brow inched up as if he was daring her to think what she was thinking, or rather say
what she was thinking.

Which made her wonder if her mind was that dirty, and she was the one who took his

words wrong ... or was he trying to get her to second-guess herself?

"Corey is a lot of things, but average isn't one of them," Dan said to Shelby as he

patted the barstool. "Come join us."

Shelby didn't look at Corey. Didn't have to. She could feel him gloating across the

room. His attitude, even from a distance, was a prime example of why she didn't like
working with athletes. She didn't like them.

Plain and simple, they were all jerks.
Already she knew Corey Evans had an exceptional knack for pushing her buttons.

No, she most definitely did not like working with athletes.

And no way was she going to be attracted to him. Why her body was reacting as if

she was, made no sense. No way was she getting involved with another athlete. She
would do this job and then be gone. Corey Evans could not get to her. It was impossible.
Squaring her shoulders, a look of determination in her eyes, she stepped forward.

"Good," she said to Dan, and despite the fact that she was talking about Corey, she

didn't look at him. "Average athletes don't know how to follow directions. I'll need Mr.
Evans here to do as I say."

Corey laughed. "Oh, now, darlin', I'm sure we can work something out. If you ask

me right, I'll do just about anything."

That stopped her in her tracks. Slowly, her gaze moved to his. "Mr. Evans..."
"Corey," he corrected. "Call me Corey. I plan to call you Shelby."
Shelby kept her expression impassive.
But just barely.
She wasn't about to get sucked into whatever game this man was trying to play.

Slowly, she started forward again, taking a step even as she met Corey's piercing gaze.
There was something intimate about the way he looked at her, his eyes lingering on her
features in a slow, thorough inspection.

His scrutiny was keen and far too probing, as if he was seeing well below the

surface. It set her on edge, made her feel off-center. Each step forward came slowly and
took extra effort.

With irritation, she realized she was holding her breath. She immediately forced

herself to exhale, slowly allowing the air to trickle through her lips.

Dan was talking, and she tried to focus on what he was saying. Not quite at the bar,

she drew to a halt, still struggling to absorb Corey's words.

"Shelby and I go way back," Dan commented. "I trust her as a person, and her

company is considered top-notch. She's provided security for some big names. People
who tend to draw the type of problem you are having. This won't be her first stalker."

Shelby's eyes flickered from Dan back to Corey as she settled her hands on the back

of the barstool. Their eyes locked and held, almost squaring off in silent battle.

"No," she said to Dan, but never took her eyes from Corey's. "Is it your first, Mr.

Evans?"

Her words were a challenge of sorts, the words slipping out before she could call

them back. Without ever having met before, she and Corey were in a battle of wills.

Thanks to Dan, Shelby already knew Corey didn't take the recent threats he'd been

receiving seriously, and that he didn't want her or anyone else's help.

According to Dan, Corey was a very private person. Shelby wasn't sure she bought

into that idea. Especially since Dan had also said Corey was a nice guy. Clearly he was
mistaken on that point, which meant he could be wrong on others. Corey reeked of
arrogance and trouble. Not a hint of niceness.

Corey's full attention was on her. She could feel it with every ounce of her being. His

lips twitched ever so slightly. "It depends on how you define stalker. I've had my share of
obsessive fans."

In an effort not to look into his eyes, her gaze slipped down ... to his lips. Another

strategic mistake. They were full, the bottom bigger than the top, and alluringly sensual.
Addictive? Yes. She could see why a fan or two had become obsessive. He had a vibrant
sensuality that demanded a reaction, even from her, despite her resistance.

Corey Evans most definitely had an air of sexuality.
No way was he a nice guy. He had bad boy, hot nights, and great orgasms written all

over him. But not nice. Tempting, spicy, delicious, but not nice.

Not that she cared.
She didn't need sex. Two years of going without had proven that. So why was she

feeling all this damn awareness in every inch of her body, for a man she didn't even like?

One that didn't even want her here.
She forced her mind to business. "Obsessive enough to send death threats?"
Corey shrugged off the question. "The letters are harmless."
"They're getting more aggressive," Shelby told him sternly. "I saw them, and I don't

like the way the tone has changed."

Corey's lips thinned. "A letter never killed anyone."
"But I might," Dan muttered. "Corey, be reasonable. There is more to this than

letters. What about the hang up calls on your private line?"

Corey made a frustrated sound. "You're making too much of this, Dan. I don't need

extra security, and I don't have a stalker. I have a fan who is a bit over the top. That's all."

Shelby didn't think Dan was overreacting. The letters had a tone to them that made

her uncomfortable. "I think Dan has reason to be concerned."

Corey narrowed his eyes on her. "And you're going to keep me nice and safe?"
His tone held a hint of taunt. "From the stalker," she bit out, "but if you keep pushing

me, I can't promise I won't hurt you."

His head fell back as he laughed. It was a deep, resonating sound that reached out

and warmed her insides in a way that was sexy as hell, and impossible to ignore. Damn
him, she didn't want to respond to him.

"That might be fun," he said, with a twinkle in his eyes.

Chapter Two

Corey's stared at Shelby Allen from across the bar, and the corners of his mind

flickered with a unique response. What it was, he wasn't quite sure, but damn if it was
possible to ignore. His body felt alive with her presence. His heart was beating at a rapid
pace, making him resist the urge to put a fist on his chest. Despite his resolve to dislike
Shelby, the tingling of attraction danced along his nerve endings.

The woman did strange things to him. It worked against his plan. Somehow, getting

her to hate him seemed far from appealing. But then he'd already started down the path of
no return, the one where he needled her into disliking him.

It was too late to turn back. Besides, the last thing he needed was another person in

his life to disappoint him. What if he started to trust her and she was no different than the
others? He didn't have the stamina to deal with the reality of it, especially with someone
of the female persuasion.

There was a problem, though. One he was finding hard, quite literally, to ignore. He

hadn't missed sex. Not until now. Something about Shelby had lit a flame that had been
out, got him burning for her. He'd gotten hard just watching her sway those sexy hips as
she walked across the room.

Damn, he wanted her. That was bad news and he knew it. He wished like hell his

body would get the point.

"Drink?" Corey asked, watching her climb up onto a bar stool as he tried to decide

what his next action should be. What was it about this woman that did funny things to his
insides?

Turned him on.
No, more...
Interested him. No, that still wasn't a strong enough word. Intrigued him was more

like it. When was the last time a woman got his attention the way this one did? He
couldn't remember. At some point they had all become users to him. The thought was so
cynical, and so out of character, he made a mental note to revisit exactly what was going
on in his head.

Shelby's voice, a sultry sound that wrapped around him like an enticing breeze on a

hot day, drew him back into the present. "No, thank you," she said, with obvious forced
politeness that did nothing to douse the sexiness of her tone or the way it impacted him.

Despite the businesslike mask she wore, he could see a softer and even hotter Shelby

beneath. Her eyes were a warm green, like grass, with little specks of yellow. Her brown
hair hung down her shoulders in soft waves, and he could just imagine burying his hands
in it while he kissed her.

She continued, but he could tell from the way she shifted slightly, she knew how

intense his scrutiny was. "I'd like to get straight to the point. You have real trouble here."

Corey leaned an elbow on the bar. "Dan is the one who thinks I have trouble. I don't.

As I have already stated, we are simply dealing with a fan who is a bit more aggressive
than others."

Shelby quirked a brow as she leaned forward and rested one palm on the bar. "Then

what am I doing here?"

Corey's eyes flicked to Dan. "Making him happy."
Shelby pushed off the bar as if preparing to leave. "Then I don't see any point in

staying. Unless I have your buy in, Mr. Evans, my services are useless."

Dan responded immediately. "Corey will cooperate fully. His coach wants this."
That got Corey's attention. "Since when?"
Dan's voice had a hard edge. "Since the team water supply was tampered with."
"When did this happen?" Shelby asked immediately.
Corey ignored her question. "That was a prank," he said hotly to Dan. "It was salt,

damn it!"

Dan's expression was one of frustration. "It was a sign we need to be more cautious.

Think of the rest of your team, Corey. This is serious business."

"This is crazy, is what it is!" Corey said, running his hand through his hair as he

stiffened his spine. "And a load of crap if I've ever heard one."

Dan stood up. "The simple fact is, you're off the road if you don't get extra security.

And I had to push to get that approved. If Shelby didn't come with such great credentials,
then we wouldn't even have had a shot."

Everything was going wrong. He didn't need this right now. He had enough on his

mind. Corey looked at Shelby. Their eyes locked, and something jumped between them
despite his anger at the current situation. As he watched her eyes soften, he saw that she
understood a bit of what he was feeling.

And that really freaked him out because, damn it, he didn't want to like this woman.

Yet, instinctively, he wanted to give her his trust. He'd learned the hard way with past
relationships how dangerous that could be.

People wanted things from him. They didn't just want to be his friend.
"I know this is difficult, Mr. Evans," she said in a softer voice than before, almost

comforting, as if she actually cared how he felt.

She still wouldn't call him by his name and for some reason that really set him off.

"Corey, damn it! My name is Corey."

The woman was driving him insane and he had known her mere minutes. The last

thing he wanted was for her to get close enough to know what really got to him. She
already did so well not knowing him at all.

He gave her a quick perusal, intent on making her mad. His eyes said she would be a

great piece of ass, and he made sure she saw it as he met her gaze.

Of course he would never confirm the assessment. Something about the woman got

to him, which meant his initial plan was critical. She needed to hate him.

* * * *

Shelby looked at Dan, her eyes silently pleading for guidance. In response, Dan said

quietly, "He'll be reasonable."

Glancing to where Corey had stood, she found he had moved. Quickly. No longer

behind the bar, she was surprised to find he had moved to stand next to her. He now
stood, one hand on the bar, facing her.

She faced the bar, both palms flattened on the wooden surface. Tilting her chin to the

side, she looked at him, wondering what he was up to, and he was up to something, of
that she was certain.

It was her first time to see his entire body. Covertly, and because she simply couldn't

help herself, she took in his appearance.

Physically, he was nothing shy of outright impressive. Even his foul mood didn't

take away from the pure maleness of his presence, and the perfection of his athletic body.

He was casually dressed in snug fitting jeans and an equally fitted black T-shirt. She

was far too aware of how well they clung to his form, molded ever so nicely to the
rippling length of his powerful body.

She turned to face him, slowly, with false calmness, placing her back to Dan. It was

unusual for her to feel so unsettled by a man, or anyone for that matter. But Corey Evans
did funny things to her insides. She was attracted to him, no doubt about it.

Considering how agitating and rude he was being, it didn't make sense. Which only

served to make her more confused. And it irked her to no end.

They stood face to face, each with an elbow propped on the bar. His nearness made

her insides flip-flop though she kept a cool exterior. She met his gaze with aloofness as
her mask. She didn't dare blink. And for an instant, what she saw in his eyes shocked her.
There was just a hint of vulnerability in his stare.

But before she was absolutely certain of its existence, it was gone, replaced by

something much different, more tense, almost angry.

He laughed, but there wasn't any hint of humor in the deeply resonating sound. "I

don't see how you are going to stop anyone from hurting me." Again with the taunting. "I
believe a large woman could overpower you. A man would easily control you."

His eyes made a slow, lazy tour down her body and then back up again, blatantly

pausing at her breasts.

When his eyes met hers again, she wanted to reach over and smack his face. The

hand that hung by her side balled into a fist as she willed herself to calm. Not once, but
twice, he had taken the liberty to assess her physically.

Corey spoke to Dan next without removing his eyes from Shelby's burning gaze.

"Dan," he said in a slow drawl, "she looks more like one of my groupies than a security
expert. Are you sure she won't be a problem for me? Though," he said thoughtfully, "she
is a beauty; she might offer some entertainment." A teasing smirk settled on his face as he
completed the words.

Dan made a grunting sound. "You are out of line, Corey, and I assure you, you

underestimate Shelby. You really are being difficult, my man. What's come over you?"

"I don't know what you mean, Dan." Corey never took his eyes off Shelby. "Why

don't we see what she really can do?"

Suddenly, Shelby found herself trapped, back against the bar, with one of Corey's

arms on either side of her.

"Corey!" Dan's angry voice rumbled as if in a tunnel. Shelby focused on Corey while

instinctively moving her hand to her boot and pulling her gun. She pointed it at his chest,
ensuring it rested heavily on his chest.

Corey looked down at the gun and then back up at Shelby with amusement brimming

from his gray eyes. "Do you know how to use that thing?"

"I assure you, not only do I know how to use it, I'm not afraid to. You are way too

full of yourself, Corey Evans. I'm not a groupie, or even a fan. I've had my athlete, been
there, done that, have the t-shirt and don't want another." Shelby intentionally ran the gun
down his chest to his pants. "Athletes think too much with what's in their pants."

Dan groaned in frustration, though neither Corey nor Shelby moved to look at him.
"Sounds like a challenge if ever I heard one," he said suggestively, leaning towards

her despite the gun.

His face very near her own, his breath hot, his eyes hotter. She could smell his

cologne, and almost taste his lips. Her imagination seemed to want to know his flavor.
Damn him. He was an ass. Why did he impact her so?

Desperate for control, she snapped, "Don't waste your time. You'd only prove what I

already know."

Dan's voice filled the air. "That's enough! Corey back away from Shelby." Dan

moved forward and grabbed the back of Corey's shirt. "Now!" Dan shouted.

Corey did as he was told, laughing as he back-stepped, his eyes never leaving

Shelby. Needing to escape his stare, Shelby diverted her gaze as she moved to put her
gun back in her boot.

"Obviously, this is not going to work," Shelby proclaimed as she started walking

towards the door. She was crazy to even come here, and she knew it. Dan should have
known, too.

Corey's voice mocked her from behind. "She gives up easily. Why exactly did you

recommend her, Dan?" Raising his voice slightly, he called across the room to her, "I
thought you might actually have balls. Guess I was wrong."

Shelby abruptly turned back around, anger flashing in her green eyes. "I don't want

or need a job where I am not wanted. Besides, clearly you and I cannot work together."

Corey laughed loudly, leaving a trail of arrogant satisfaction ringing in the air. "Like

I said, you give up easily."

Shelby fought for composure, enduring his mocking laughter with an internal cringe.
"Shelby," Dan said, "I don't know what has come over Corey, but we do need you.

Corey will behave himself. I'll make sure of it. Just take the job. I know you need it." Dan
spoke quietly with calm confidence. The tension in his features evident in his wrinkled
forehead and clenched teeth.

Corey raised his eyebrow in question, a mocking smile on his lips. Shelby shot Dan

an angry look of reproach. Her financial picture was none of Corey Evan's business.

Dan continued, this time to Corey, "Your club wants this to happen. I suggest you

make it work."

Then he waved his hand between the two of them, pointing at each. "So, to both of

you, listen carefully to what I have to say. Shelby, you need this job. Corey, you can take
Shelby or be benched. Both of you decide now."

Shelby and Corey glared at each other, but neither spoke. After a moment, Dan

continued, "I take that as acceptance from both of you. Now," he said crossing his arms
in front of his body, "we need to work out the logistics. No one can know who Shelby
really is." Dan turned to Shelby, "Corey is single, and so are you. I say you go
undercover as his girlfriend."

"Wait a minute. No way! I am NOT going to pretend to be his girlfriend! No way, no

how, not happening!"

Shelby let out a disgusted snort, turned her head, and crossed her arms in front of her

to indicate her closure on the subject. Dan should know better than to make such a
suggestion. If he had told her this on the phone she would not have come.

Looking at his face, she realized this was his plan from the beginning. Anger

bubbled in her veins bringing a red tinge to her cheeks.

Dan gave her a steady gaze, his jaw set with determination. "I'll throw in an extra

five thousand a week. That should cover any discomfort."

Shelby gasped, and then tried to choke back the noise. It was a generous offer. She

opened her mouth to speak, and shut it again. She needed the money to get her sister out
of trouble.

Then, suddenly, she realized Corey hadn't said a word. Not one objection, not one

complaint, nothing. She looked at him, a question in her mind, and on her face.

Why wasn't he complaining?
He smiled instantly. "What are you afraid of Shelby?"
He leaned lazily against the bar, one long leg crossed in front of the other, as he

studied her.

"Afraid?" she demanded. "Of what? Why in the world would I be afraid?"
His lips twitched. "You might actually like getting all close and friendly with me."
"Oh, please," she said with agitation. "Can the adolescent jibes. Besides, it's clear

you don't want me here anyway."

He shrugged. "I accept my circumstances. Seems you're the one who has issues."
"I. Do. Not. Have. Issues." She bit each word out through clenched teeth. How had

this gotten turned around as her issue? She pulled her composure back in place, stiffening
her spine, and turning businesslike. Her voice was softer now by design. "I just don't
think this is the best approach."

"I'm open to hear a better one," Dan said, drawing her attention. "You got one?"
Shelby swallowed. Dan's idea was a good one. She just didn't like it. "Well no, not

yet."

"So this is our best option for now?" Dan asked with an expectant look on his face.
Damn. She was trapped. If her sister hadn't gotten into gambling debt, she'd refuse

altogether. But what option did she have? Carrie had sharks after her. "I, um, suppose
so."

Corey challenged her then. "Then what's the problem?"

* * * *

Corey had already figured out it was not in Shelby's nature to walk away from a

challenge. And for some unknown, crazy reason, the thought of her leaving kicked his
ass. His plan to scare her off had only served to make him want her more. Seeing her pull
that gun, the fire in her eyes, well, it had sent heat straight through his veins.

It was like a white-hot rocket had settled between his thighs. He had stood before

her, rock hard, and wanting. Shelby Allen might be a problem, but she was a delicious
one at that.

Somehow, for the second time in mere minutes, he had gone from trying to drive her

away, to wanting to pull her close and find out just what she was made of.

So now he found himself baiting her, and she was letting him. "Is there a problem,

Shelby?"

He watched her force a smile. And damn if she wasn't cute as hell trying to act all

tough when he could tell she really wanted to bolt. Sexy and cute? Had he ever found a
woman he would call both?

Even as he was acting on his attraction to her, challenging her to stay around, in the

far corner of his mind, he knew he was setting himself up to get burned again. But he
couldn't seem to help himself. He wanted to find out what made Shelby Allen tick.

She was silent for a long moment, and he could almost see her trying to form calm

words. "No problem. We'll do it Dan's way." Her concession came weakly.

Dan smiled his approval. "Good, then it's settled. Shelby will go undercover as your

girlfriend. We have a week before you go on the road again. That will give her time to get
her plans and team in place." Dan looked at Shelby. "Corey has plenty of room for you to
stay here."

Shelby opened her mouth to speak with what Corey was certain would be an

objection, when Dan turned to Corey. "Shelby is known for solving problems fast. She
gets up close and personal with the client, and smokes out the problem like fire in a
chimney. It's amazing."

Corey looked at Dan, and then let his gaze shift back to Shelby. "Is that so?" To

Corey's surprise, she started blushing. "Good thing I have a guest bedroom next door to
mine."

She wet her lips. "I have two of my staff joining us tomorrow. They can be openly

identified as security. It will help keep attention off me." She paused. "They will need
rooms as well."

Corey inclined his head, forcing himself not to smile. She had just agreed to stay

around. And for some unidentifiable reason, he felt the best he had in months.

"Not a problem," Corey told her. "Why don't I show you to your room?"
She bit her bottom lip. "Fine, but I'd like go down a list of questions with you tonight

so I can start formulating a plan of attack."

His eyes locked with hers, and his true self started to surface. She looked tired and

more than a little uncomfortable despite her grand efforts to appear unscathed. "It's late.
The trip from New York to Los Angeles is a long one. Why don't we start bright and
early in the morning?"

Her brows dipped. "I'd..." She seemed to reconsider what she was going to say. "That

works."

He smiled at her, a sincere, heartfelt smile. She'd agreed to stay. Now he needed to

stop with the games. It was time to show her he wasn't such a bad guy.

"I'll carry your bags up for you." Corey looked at Dan. "I'd like to talk to you before

you leave."

"If you have something to say about me, say it to my face."
Shelby's heated words drew his attention. He narrowed his gaze on her. His intention

had been to question Dan about Shelby. But maybe that was best done directly.

"Then lets make a deal," Corey said to her.
Her eye darkened. "What kind of deal?"

Dan answered before Corey could. "I need to get going anyway. Unlike the two of

you, age isn't on my side. It's eleven o'clock and I have a meeting at seven in the
morning."

"I'll walk out with you," Shelby said quickly.
Corey laughed. Shelby fixed him in a hard stare. "What?" she demanded.
He shook his finger at her. "You don't play by the rules."
"What does that mean?" she asked, but her expression said she knew.
"I'm out of here," Dan said, moving towards the door. "And for the record," he said

over his shoulder, turning back to them for a quick moment. "You two are on your own. I
won't referee. Play nice together and catch a bad guy. Then we all win."

He turned back to the door and disappeared. Corey and Shelby looked at one another

and the electricity between them was like a live charge. Their attraction was mutual. He
saw it in her eyes. He also saw anger. She hated wanting him.

Now why was that?
She wasn't like any woman he had ever known. Maybe she wasn't like anyone, male

or female, he had ever known. The thought intrigued him, and for the first time in a long
time, he found himself wanting to smile.

He wanted her. She wanted him.
The rest they could get by. Their bumpy start, her ex-athlete boyfriend and maybe,

just maybe, even his fear of being screwed again. Because she was real. He sensed it in
every ounce of his being.

If she hated him, it would be openly, not behind his back.
If she desired him, her passion would be bold and flaming hot.
If she loved him, it would be tender, honest, and alive, pumping him with life.
He swallowed. Love? Where the hell did that thought come from? He shoved it

away. Bottom line, he wanted to get to know her.

"So, Shelby Allen," he said softly, as he took a step towards her. "Let's make a deal."
Her eyes went wide. "What kind of deal?"
"The way I see it," he said as he closed the distance between them, "we have two

options to solve the obvious conflict between us."

She swallowed, and then tilted her chin up defiantly. "Okay, I'll bite. What two

options are those?"

He took another step. She didn't move. "We could fight all day and all night."
Intentionally, Corey let the words linger in the air, even as he stepped so close to her

all he had to do was reach out to touch her. Her eyes flashed with awareness, maybe a bit
of nervousness and yet defiantly she refused to back away from him.

He liked her guts, her pure stubborn need to prove she wouldn't let him win. It turned

him on.

"Or?" she asked quietly.
He reached for her. "Or we give in to the attraction between us and make this an

enjoyable experience."

Before she could respond, he pulled her tight against his body, wrapping his arms

around her even as his mouth closed down on hers.

Her lips were soft and sweet, and so damn warm and inviting he felt like he could

simply eat her up. She held her body stiff at first, her palms pressed against his chest. But
as his tongue dipped into her mouth, brushing hers, she whimpered.

Chapter Three

Corey Evans had a magic tongue.
It was the only explanation for the blind abandonment with which Shelby was

kissing him. A man she had been determined to dislike now had her body pulsing in ways
she had forgotten existed.

She felt the dampness gather between her thighs with a sense of awe at his skill. How

long had it been since that little trick had been achieved?

Like years.
Lips still touching hers, he whispered, "Tell me this feels as good to you as it does to

me," he said against her lips.

Shelby tried to say no, but she was afraid he would stop kissing her. "Yes," she

whispered breathlessly.

Bingo.
He kissed her again.
She should be pushing him away, but he tasted and felt so darn good. She was

human after all, and he was ... well, he was a damn good kisser.

And try as she might to ignore the reaction her body was having to him, she couldn't.

She wanted him.

Bad.
But this was just a kiss. No harm, no foul. At least, in her desire-stricken state, that

was the logic she decided to cling to. Later she would chastise herself.

Not now.
Besides, it had been an eternity, or so it seemed, since she had been thoroughly

kissed. His tongue played along the sides of hers, and Shelby moaned without any
possible hope of restraining the sound.

There was something so warm, so alluringly perfect about his kisses. Perhaps the

way he used his lips to caress, or maybe it was the way his tongue did this slow,
seductive dance along hers.

Or was there more?
Some kind of unique chemistry between them perhaps? Her body certainly ached in

places long ago made dormant. And if the bulge in his pants pressing against her stomach
was any indicator, he was pretty darn aroused himself.

Slowly, he pulled his mouth from hers, coming back for a brief nibble, before staring

down at her with a probing, heated gaze. Without thought, a sigh of pure female
satisfaction slipped from her mouth.

He smiled in return, clearly proud of making her respond in such a way, but

surprisingly, Shelby didn't find it offensive. She knew he had enjoyed kissing her as well.

His hand went to her neck. "Shelby..."
Someone cleared their throat at the doorway, a distinctively feminine sound drawing

both their attention. Shocked at another's presence, Shelby instantly moved to take a step
backwards. Corey's arms went to her arms, holding her steady.

In turn, Shelby's eyes went to the visitor. Young, pretty and Hispanic, with an

expression of distress on her face, she had to be Corey's girlfriend. A sick feeling
gathered in her stomach.

Apparently, Corey Evans liked them young, and he didn't care if he had more than

one woman in his house at once.

Pig!
He looked at the woman at the door, and smiled. "Hi, Marcie." Then he looked at

Shelby. "Shelby..."

Shelby tried to pull her arms away. "I should have known better than to let myself..."

Her voice trailed off as his brow inched up.

"Let yourself what?"
The woman—no, girl, she couldn't have been more than nineteen at best—spoke

before Shelby could tell Corey where he could stick his question. And it wasn't a place
where the sun shined. "My mother wanted me to let you know the guest room is ready."

Shelby blinked. "Who's her mother?"
"I am," came a stronger voice etched with an accent. A gentle looking older woman

stepped from beside Marcie, who was still scowling at Shelby.

A bit plump, with black hair pulled back in a severe knot, the newest visitor certainly

looked the role of mother. "I'm Evelyn Montes, Corey's housekeeper," she paused and
smiled at Corey, "but he's more like a son to me. You must be Shelby Allen. Corey told
me you would be arriving."

Shelby swallowed, feeling a bit nervous, mostly out of embarrassment. Corey slid his

arm around her shoulder as if he was on familiar terms with her.

Which she guessed was technically true. At least as of five minutes before, it was.

Still, it seemed too intimate an action for their present state of barely knowing each other.
She didn't look at him as she turned beneath his arm and focused on Evelyn. "Yes, nice to
meet you Evelyn," she looked at Marcie, "and you, too."

"Welcome and let me know if I can do anything for you while you're here. We sure

are glad to have someone looking out for Corey. Those letters and calls are downright
scary. Marcie and I worry." She looked at her daughter. "Don't we dear?"

"Yes, mama," Marcie said in a voice that sounded bitter, not concerned.
Shelby made a mental note to check her out. Even if she was Corey's girlfriend, there

was something about her Shelby didn't like.

Marcie looked at Corey, a fake smile on her lips. "She's in the room next to yours."
Ouch, Shelby thought. Sour grapes for sure. Corey seemed oblivious, or perhaps just

immune to female distress. He simply nodded and thanked her, acting casually friendly
and unaffected by her presence.

Marcie spoke again as if Shelby wasn't there. "Should I show her to her room?"
Shelby bit back the desire to demand recognition. Feeling Corey's eyes on her so

plainly it was like a heated ray of light, she looked from Marcie to him.

A slow, intimate smile slipped onto his lips. "I'll show Shelby to her room myself."
"Then we will leave you for the night, Corey," Evelyn said.
Corey squeezed Shelby's shoulder, another intimate, overly friendly gesture. The

thing was, Shelby liked it in a strange sort of way. She shouldn't. But she did.

As his gaze went to Evelyn, Shelby couldn't help but focus on the feel of her body

pressed to the side of his bigger, harder, very nice one.

Little ripples of awareness danced along her nerve endings.
Corey was saying his goodnights, but all Shelby could manage was a nod. She was

too involved in the humming of her body. This was crazy. He was her client, a man she
didn't want to know or like. But her body seemed to be having a disagreement with her
mind.

The minute they were alone, Corey turned to face her, pulling her to him, hands

around her waist. "You thought Marcie and I were together."

Denial seemed futile. "I guess I did jump to conclusions."
"You guess?" he challenged.
She sighed. Clearly he wasn't going to let her off the hook easily. "Okay, yes, I did."

Then in a lower tone, "Sorry."

His expression darkened. "I'm not him, you know."
She knew who he meant. Her ex. The one who said he was different from all the

others, but wasn't.

She chose to play dumb. "Who?"
"Got it," he said after a short pause. "You don't want to talk about it."
"Exactly," she said, a bit too quickly.
Looking at her with far too much heat and intensity, he said, "I'll drop it." Then he

added with emphasis, "For now. How about I show you to your room?"

Nervously, Shelby laughed. "Probably not a good idea. Just point me in the right

direction."

There was a distinct twinkle in his eyes. "Tucking tail and running?"
Her eyes went wide. As much as she tried to respond with true indignation, he was

right. She was. There was something about Corey that told her he was dangerous. To her.
He outright scared the hell out of her. Control was a critical part of her make up as a
human being.

With Corey, she didn't have it.
"What? No, I'm not."
His voice held the slightest hint of challenge, but not enough to set her off. "Then let

me show you to your room."

Shelby wasn't sure what to do. Her willpower with this man was not at normal levels.
Before she could come up with a reasonable response, he spoke again. "I was about

to order Chinese food. Hungry?"

She studied him, eyes probing and searching his carefully guarded features for his

motivation. If he wanted to order food then he wasn't planning on jumping her once they
got to the bedroom. At least, that would seem to be the case.

Wouldn't it?
Was that a good or bad thing?
He was still touching her, which made it hard to think. No other strategy in place, she

just said what was on her mind? "What game are you playing, Corey Evans?"

He grinned instantly. "You are something else, Shelby Allen." He closed the barely

there distance between them, pressing his thighs to hers. His hand slid around her neck.
"No game. And since you're being so direct, I will grant the same in return. I want you,
plain and simple. And, unless I am way off track here, I believe you want me too."

His directness took her aback. Or was it his body pressed against hers? Here she was,

trying to get the upper hand in this situation, and he had managed to turn it around on her.
She opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it again.

This man, this situation, was turning her upside down. Finally, "You're my client."
His look said he didn't buy that as an excuse. Challenging her with his words, he

said, "And that means what, exactly?"

Her chin inched up. She could play the direct, shock-with-words game, too. "I can't

sleep with you."

Apparently he played it better than she did. One of his hands slid down her hip.

"That leaves options at least."

The suggestion that they could do all but the ultimate intimate act was obvious. And

that would have made her angry but he had spoken the words with a husky, low tone and
his eyes were so dark and probing they seemed to pull her under some sort of spell.

Her hand went to his arm, even as the ache between her thighs seemed to intensify.

"How did we go from arguing to this?" she asked before she could stop herself.

He slid his hands to her cheeks, and fixed her with a passion-filled look. "Kiss me

first, and then I'll tell you my theory."

She wanted to kiss him, but she didn't want to be like all the other women these

athletes had at their beck and call. She'd been treated that way once without knowing it,
until her heart was on the line. She didn't want to do it again.

His head dipped towards her and she panicked. One more kiss and she might lose her

resolve. Her hand slipped between them as she raised her fingers to his lips. His eyes
registered his surprise.

"Wait," Shelby said tensely. "If you think just because you're some big pitcher in the

majors that I will just fall into your bed, you're wrong."

To her complete, utter surprise, he smiled, reached up and took her hand in his,

kissing her fingers. "Promise?"

Her brows dipped. "What does that mean?"
His mouth found her palm, while his eyes stayed locked on her face. "I wouldn't

want you if you would." His lips were gentle, almost tender in their contact with her skin.
"What do you say to that Chinese food?"

She didn't understand this man. He was a mixture of cocky male, too-confident male,

and something else, something softer, more honest perhaps. Inwardly, she shook herself.
She was treading on dangerous territory. Believing Corey Evans was something outside
of the box would only lead her in the wrong direction.

Eating seemed to be a good angle to buy her time to assess her feelings. Besides, her

stomach was growling. "Okay, Chinese food sounds good."

Then, before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her again. Try as she

might to resist, she just couldn't seem to manage it. She clung to him, whimpering softly.
His lips were warm, calling her, and making her head spin. She sank into him, arms
wrapping around his back.

Time seemed to stand still.
She wanted this kiss to last forever, but too soon, it was over. He stared down at her,

half-lidded eyes searching her face. "We'd be good together, Shelby. Think about it."

Her mind raced. She didn't sleep with clients or strangers but she had the craziest

desire to throw caution to the wind and go directly to bed with Corey.

"For the record, I didn't want you here so I was a jerk and tried to run you off." He

paused. "And I'm sorry."

Shelby blinked. Did he just tell her he was sorry? Her resolve to stay on the straight

and narrow weakened to a zero level. No, wait.

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you apologizing to get me to bed?"
He laughed. "No. I meant the apology, but if it helps me get you to bed, I'm all for

it."

The man never stopped. "That's about as bold as you can get."
"Direct," he corrected. "And I know what I want."
Her eyes dared him to keep pushing. "Which is?"
"To get to know you better."
"In bed," she added quickly.
He winked. "And out."
"In that order."
"In either order, but I assume you would prefer the out of bed first strategy."
Her eyes narrowed on his face. "I don't just jump into bed with strange men."
He grinned. "I believe you. I didn't suggest we sleep together tonight. If you

remember, I started with the suggestion of Chinese food."

She couldn't sleep with him. No matter how deliciously tempting he was. "I can't do

this."

Barely contained amusement slipped into his eyes. "Eat with me or sleep with me?"
"Sleep with you," she retorted indignantly.
He kissed her fingers one last time. "I'll accept that answer on one condition."
She didn't like conditions, yet she found herself saying, "Which would be?"
He looked up at her with a mischievous look in his sexy eyes. "You won't get mad at

me for trying to change your mind."

Relief, secret but very real, washed over her. Outwardly though, she acted cool. "Try

as much as you like. It's not happening."

He arched one dark brow. "I accept that challenge and intend to win."
She made a face.
"You forget, sweetheart, I come face-to-face in a stand off of sorts every night I'm on

that pitcher's mound. I come back for punishment night after night, game after game, no
matter how hard it gets. And I win."

Shelby needed distance from this man to think. Her hands went to his shoulders as

she pushed away from him. His hands gently but firmly settled around her waist.
"Running? Scared off so easily?"

Damn the man. "I'm not running."
"Prove it," he challenged with a gleam in his eye that told her she should keep her

mouth shut.

But her mouth moved on it's own with complete disregard for the common sense her

brain was begging her to use. "I don't have anything to prove."

"Ah," he said. "Deflection is your technique. I'll have to remember that."
Her eyes flashed. "I am not deflecting."
His lips twitched. "Prove it."
Simple answers seemed her best new strategy. "No."
"What is it you're afraid of, I wonder?"

Chapter Four

Corey smiled as her lips touched his. He'd already figured out that Shelby couldn't

walk away from a challenge. He liked that about her. He also knew her intent was to give
him a mere peck of a kiss.

No way, no go, not going to happen.
She started to pull away, and his arms tightened around her waist. He slipped his

tongue between her teeth, tasting her like the sweet honey she reminded him of, caressing
and probing, and enjoying. She didn't fight him, kissing him back with delicate little
strokes of her tongue, but he sensed her struggle.

She hated wanting him.
Because he was an athlete.
It was time to show her just how much fun they could have without actually sleeping

together. Flattening his palm on the small of her back, he pressed her close.

Even as he tasted her, absorbed her closeness and how right she felt in his arms, his

mind raced. It was really pretty damn ironic, her desire to fight their shared attraction.
Here he was, struggling with people wanting him because of his career. Yet, here she
was, not wanting him for the same reason.

It only served to throw fire onto the flame of his desire, making him want her all the

more. She made a soft little sound deep in her throat, and he all but came unglued.

His restraint, normally massive, was pulled tight as a rubber band, his desire evident

as his zipper strained to its limit. Unable to help himself, he slid his hand down her round,
very nice ass, and pressed her against his groin. She arched into him, no hesitation, no
shyness.

God, how he longed to be skin to skin with her doing the exact same thing.
Sliding both hands around that truly stellar ass, he stroked, caressed and then finally

squeezed, pulling her tighter against him. Trailing his mouth along her jaw, he found a
spot behind her ear, feeling her shiver with response.

Breathlessly, she said, "Corey, we can't do this." Then a little moan slipped from her

lips as his hands swept up her side, and brushed the bottom of her breasts.

He continued his assault on her senses, drawing a little circle on her neck with his

tongue, trying to make her lose herself to him.

Before he responded he allowed his lips to brush hers for the briefest of moments.

Yet it was a tantalizing instant of pure pleasure. "Just a little more."

"I still won't sleep with you," she said, but her body was telling him an entirely

different story. She shivered as he tugged gently at her bottom lip with his teeth.

"I believe you," he murmured. "So why not just enjoy the moment for what it is?"

His lips brushed hers. "A few kisses."

"No," she said weakly, still clearly in the haze of passion based on the tone of her

voice. Suddenly, he felt her slight stiffening. Watching her face, he could see the internal
battle she fought in her eyes. He knew the moment her resolve to resist him began
returning.

Her hands went to his chest. This time her voice held conviction. "Game over."

He looked down at her. "Oh, sweetheart, I assure you, the game has only just begun."
She glowered. "Take me to my room."
He grinned. "Gladly."
She shoved on his chest. "Forget it. I'll find it myself."
He watched her stomp towards the hallway, sashaying her curvy hips and making his

hard-on all the more hard. Sighing, he silently admitted he was hooked. He might get
burned again, maybe even hurt, but Shelby Allen seemed worth the risk.

She had him hook, line, and sinker.
How to tear down her walls was the question. A direct hit wouldn't work. For now,

he'd go take her bags to her room and even if it killed him, keep his hands to himself.

He wanted her to come to him of her own free will.
Hell.
This woman was trouble. Something about her got to him. And not just his body. Got

to him deep down inside. He'd have to be careful that as he tore down her walls, he didn't
forget to maintain a few of his own.

At least until he knew she wasn't like the others.
For once, it would be nice to have someone he could truly trust. To think Shelby

could be that person seemed too good to be true.

Wasn't it?
He laughed out loud, but not with humor. Far from it. Self-mockery was more like it.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Jesus, man, you're losing it," he mumbled to the empty
room. He started walking. He'd only just met her. What kind of craziness was he
experiencing, to already be thinking relationship, not just sex?

Sex deprivation must be affecting his brain cells. That's it. He needed sex. And he

had a good idea that Shelby did, too.

So, there it was. Sex would solve all of this.
He hoped.

* * * *

"Sleeping with Corey Evans could be the best thing you ever did."
Shelby wanted to scream into the telephone as she listened to her best friend, Bev

Johnson, share her crazy opinion. Instead, she calmly replied, "That's insane."

It was a few minutes past midnight, and Shelby sat on the bed in Corey's guest

bedroom, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, legs crossed in front of her Indian-style.

"Look," Bev said immediately, "if you fall off a bike, you're supposed to get back on

and ride again. Same theory applies. One bad experience with a man does not mean you
can never ride again. Just do it on your terms. Maybe another athlete will be the cure-all
you need. Just maybe Corey can get you past all the junk you're carrying around."

"I have moved on," Shelby blurted indignantly.
"Like a snail runs a marathon. Too damn slow." She hesitated and then added, "It's

been years, Shelby. Do what you need to do to put the past to rest. But put it to rest."

Shelby blew out a long breath. "Let's change the subject. How is everything with

Carrie?"

"Your sister is a pain in the backside as always, but she's safe. The girl couldn't find

good sense if it was chasing her. How you two are related I'll never understand. Are you
sure your mom didn't cheat on your dad and she's the product of an affair?"

"You ask me that all the time, so I'll ignore the question and move on."
"You always do, and that gets me nowhere. She remains a mystery." Then, as if Bev

read her mind, which she often did, she replied to Shelby's next question before she asked
it. "Yes, I gave the first payment to those damn bloodsucking sharks. Sorry bastards."

Shelby laughed. Bev was a fiery red head with big bosoms and curves to stop time.

She was boisterous, opinionated, and impossible to ignore.

"What?" Bev asked.
"Just you, Bev. It's just plain uncanny how you know what is on my mind, not to

mention the fact that you have quite a way of expressing yourself. Get some sleep,
woman." Shelby sighed, but then remembered something. "Oh, wait. What time-"

"Ten o'clock on American Flight 202. They'll take a cab to Corey's place."
Shelby smiled into the phone. She was referring to Mike and Dale, Shelby's two

most trusted security experts.

"Thanks for always being on top of things, Bev. Goodnight."
"Night, night, Shelby dear. Dream sweet. May I suggest a theme? How about a little

true undercover action with a certain sexy baseball player?"

Shelby laughed despite herself. "How do you know he's sexy?"
Bev snorted. "I watch television."
"You hate sports."
"But not the players. I keep up with the highlights. He's sexy. Admit it."
"I will do no such thing. I'm hanging up."
"Meaning you think he's sexy."
"Hanging up now, Bev."
Shelby hit the end button.
The phone immediately rang again. She rolled her eyes and answered. "Bev, I said

goodnight."

Silence.
"Bev?"
A strange feeling inched its way up her spine. This wasn't Bev or anyone else she

called a friend. The line was so silent it was eerie. But someone was on the line. Someone
who had her private phone number.

Apparently the hoodlums after her sister knew people. Damn. She took a deep

calming breath. "I told you the money was coming. You'll get it."

Silence.
"You'll get your money."
The line went dead.
Shelby dialed Bev to warn her.

* * * *

Sleep had come only hours before, and even then had been fitful. Giving up the

battle, Shelby donned running shorts and tennis shoes intent on taking a run. There was a
running path wrapping the property, and she planned to put it to good use.

Having utilized Central Park in Manhattan for regular runs, Shelby was elated to

have the ability to run. Pulling a CD player out of one of her bags, she popped in one of
her favorites and strapped the player around her waist. Exerting some energy seemed the
best way to get some peace of mind.

It was still dark outside when she stepped out the back door, though the sun was

starting to peek over the horizon. Already a rainbow of colors swirled in the sky. After a
quick stretching routine, she took off running.

The path had a lot of twists and turns, and as she cut around a sharp corner, she was

abruptly knocked off her feet as she ran smack into a hard object. The shock of the blow
knocked the air out of her lungs and left her gasping, flat on her butt. Pain shot through
her leg, sending her hand to her calf. In a dazed state, she still wasn't sure what had hit
her.

Blinking several times she brought Corey into focus. He stood above her, hands on

his hips, breathing heavily. "Shit," he mumbled under his breath as he kneeled down
beside her. "Shelby, are you all right? I'm sorry. I didn't expect anyone else to be out
here."

Instant awareness raced through her body. His broad, well-chiseled and very bare

chest made quite an impact on her senses. Dry mouthed and probably gaping, she stared.

Dark hair curled on top of his well-angled form. He wore nothing but running shorts

and shoes. He was the exact type of man that women wanted: tall, lean, muscular, and
terribly sexy.

Her fascination with his body made her bite her bottom lip as she willed herself to

get a grip. It was alarming how easily she succumbed to blatant physical desire in his
presence.

"I... I'm fine." Shelby summoned her voice, which was caught in her throat.
His eyes widened, and his hand was suddenly on her leg. She gasped as he touched

the tender flesh. But she wasn't sure if it was from the pain or the sizzle his touch sent
through her body. Corey pulled his hand back quickly at the sound.

"Your leg is all scraped up," he said, as he gingerly put his hand back on her leg.
"I'm fine. I've had worse than this many times." Shelby looked around and saw her

disc player on the ground. "Damn," she mumbled softly. Her batteries and CD were also
flung on the ground no longer in the CD player.

She lifted herself into a squatting position, and reached for her player. Corey reached

for the batteries and CD and handed them to her.

They were squatting at eye level when their gazes locked. For long moments they

simply stared at one another. Shelby had thought a lot about what Bev had said during
her many restless hours in the night.

Now, facing him, feeling the heat of their connection, she thought she might just do

as Bev suggested. Corey was a temptation, and she needed to get back on the proverbial
bike. She wouldn't be used. Not if she went into this open-eyed.

It would be a fling. A hot, sweaty, perfect, between the sheets and anywhere else

they pleased, fling.

"You like to run, I guess?"
Shelby had to think a minute. What had he said? "Run?" she asked as it came to her.

"Yes, daily. You?"

"Same."

He pushed to his feet and held out his hand. She looked at it and then at him. His

brow inched up in a silent challenge. One he didn't need to extend, because she had
already decided to surrender.

On her terms.
She slipped her hand into his, feeling the warmth of his palm as if he had touched her

all over. Already anticipation had dampness gathering between her thighs. Images of that
hand touching her flashed in her mind.

Yes.
She did want this. She deserved it. It had been far too long since she had enjoyed

what a man could offer. Her eyes inched up his body as he pulled her to her feet. Corey
Evans was male perfection personified.

He kept her hand in his, stroking her wrist with his thumb, sending wave after wave

of tingling sensations up her arm. In an intimate voice that seemed to reach right inside
her very skin and awaken a flame, he told her, "I thought about you all night."

"You did?" she asked, wetting her lips nervously. His eyes followed the action,

growing darker, hungrier. And she liked it. A lot. She wanted to kiss him.

"Yes, I did. You get to me, Shelby Allen."
Shelby laughed a bit nervously because she knew it was time to lay her cards on the

table. "Yeah, well, it appears you get to me too, Corey Evans."

He didn't gloat, or even smile. Instead, he stepped closer, bringing their bodies so

close she could feel the heat of him. "We could be good together. I can feel it."

It was critical he understand where she stood. If only his nearness didn't cloud her

thoughts. "I'm not a groupie who will swoon at your every move, Corey."

"You wouldn't be worth the effort if you were. I like how you are. All I ask is you

judge me for me, not from some other person in your past."

Shelby swallowed hard, feeling tension ease up her throat. "This is about sex. I know

it, and you know it. Let's leave my history out of it."

His eyes narrowed. "Sex and only sex?"
Her eyes flashed. "That's right. I'm going to shower. Want to join me?"

* * * *

Did he want to join her? Hell, yes he did. This wasn't how he had things planned but,

hey, a guy's got to roll with the punches, especially when he had a hard-on needing major
attention, and rolling meant satisfaction.

And Shelby.
Damn, how he wanted her.
The 'just sex' part of the equation he wasn't sure he liked. Still, starting with basic sex

didn't break his heart. Not when he wanted this woman more than he had ever
remembered wanting one in the past.

Flipping her hand over, he kissed her palm, giving her a heated look as his lips

pressed against the sensitive flesh. "Your room or mine?"

Her eyes were wide, luminous in the new day's light, and yet hotter than straight-up

noon. "They're both yours."

A slow smile slipped onto his lips. "No," he said. "Your room is your room." He

paused. "And your rules." Not giving her time to reply, he motioned with his head.
"Come on."

They walked side by side, hand in hand, anticipation thrumming through his veins.

There was a warm haze of passion that seemed to surround them like a fine mist.

When they got to the top of the stairs, he stopped. His room was right. Hers was left.

Looking down at her, he said, "Your call." But he knew what she would choose. Her
room. She needed control. He knew that already about her.

Her eyes met his. "Mine."
"Yours it is," he said, waving her forward.
As they stepped into her room, she quickly moved across the room, turning to face

him. He shut the door, and leaned against it, crossing his arms and feet in front of him.

"So, here we are," he said in a low, calm tone managing to mask the raging desire

threatening to consume him. His eyes swept her image from head to toe, lingering on the
tone and perfection of her legs.

She smiled, soft and seductive. Confident even. Shelby was no wallflower. He

already knew that. "Yes, here we are."

Then she made quick work of disposing of her shoes. His eyes settled on her bare

feet, delicate and well-manicured with pink nails.

His groin tightened. Biting back a laugh, he fought his own reaction. Un-fucking

believable. Even her feet turned him on. He didn't even like feet. He thought they were
ugly. But not Shelby's.

As his eyes moved up the curve of her calves, her shorts and panties moved down the

sides of her legs. His gaze went instantly to the small, neatly trimmed triangle of dark
hair between those luscious thighs.

It was all he could do to stay still. This was her room, her rules, her game.
"You should know," she announced, "that I haven't had sex in quite some time. I

don't plan to be shy about this."

As if he expected her to be. "You don't say," he said as nonchalantly as he could

manage, considering he was about ready to close the distance between them and show her
just how not-shy he was.

Before he could decide on his next step, she had pulled her shirt over her head and

unhooked her bra.

Damn, the woman was gorgeous. Her breasts were larger than he had thought, her

nipples rather plump and as pink as the petal of a perfect rose. He wanted them in his
mouth. As he watched they tightened, showing that his visual inspection turned her on.
He liked that.

He wanted to taste her.
"Come here," he said, as he forced his eyes to hers.
She stared at him, then turned on her heels giving him a nice view of her too-good-

to-be-true lush ass. Seconds later, she disappeared into the bathroom and he heard the
water start running. A deep rumble of laughter escaped his lips. This woman was
something else. He couldn't wait to find out all the details.

Impatiently, he peeled away his shorts and shoes. Staring down at his erection, he

smiled. No question about it. The woman did it for him.

Time to go show her the result of her efforts.

She was already in the shower when he stepped into the bathroom. The chase was

apparently on and he was more than ready. Without hesitation he moved towards the dark
blue curtain hiding her from his view, separating him from the ultimate reward.

Gingerly, careful not to slip, he stepped inside the shower. She stood there all naked

and tempting, back against the wall immediately in front of him.

Still dry.
For the most part that was. Her hair was beginning to cling to her neck; sprinkles of

moisture lay upon her ivory skin, inviting his tongue to lick them off.

Her eyes dropped to his penis which was, even if he had to say so himself, pretty

damn impressive. She had him about as hard as he'd ever been and still building.

Her eyes lifted to his. "Impressive. Know what to do with it?"
A half-smile lifted one side of his mouth. "The question is, do you?"
Eyes dropping to the object in question, she bit her bottom lip and then smiled.

"Hmmm," she purred as her hand reached out and stroked him. Not expecting her action,
he bit back a low moan. "It's deciding which comes first I need to think about." Her hand
closed around him, and he sucked in a breath.

They both looked at her hand on his penis. The impact of their shared view was

nothing less than a major turn on. As if willed to do so, their eyes lifted at the same time
and locked. "You like to watch," he said in a low tone husky from desire.

She gave him a sexy look, green eyes alight with naughtiness. Damn, she was a little

devil when it came to sex. "Maybe," she said in a voice that said yes, not maybe.

This little game was fine for now, but he had every intention of taking control later.

They would end this little session with her knowing that this was about more than sex. It
was about the possibilities existing between them.

He wasn't a fool. She was trying her damnedest to keep this a sex game. Not that he

was complaining, but he also wasn't going to allow it to end on this note. There was
something between them and he fully intended to find out what.

He allowed her to stroke him several times before he felt his control slipping.

Needing to get a grip, he decided it was time for her to taste a little of her own medicine.
He leaned forward, pressing his hands against the shower wall on either side of her face.

His eyes met hers and then with slow deliberation slid down her body, lingering at

her breasts, before inching downward to her well-toned flat stomach. Inch by inch, he
allowed himself to enjoy the delicious view she offered.

When his eyes returned to hers, he said exactly what he thought. "You have an

amazing body, Shelby Allen."

Her lashes fluttered shut as if she was hiding her response from him. "One among

many."

Wow. Her past had just slipped into the shower without warning. He sensed her

mood change, sudden and yet no less extreme than the prior one.

His finger went under her chin, gently nudging her to look at him. Still her lids

remained firmly shut. "Shelby, look at me," he urged gently. And because it felt right,
added, "Please."

Slowly, her eyes met his. Her eyes held the pain of the past and insecurities she

concealed well during normal circumstances, but not now, not at this moment.

He traced her jaw with his fingertips. The water was going to get cold, and he knew

he needed to get them out of the shower. But first, he needed to get her mentally back in

Chapter Five

How had this happened?
She had vowed to keep this thing with Corey about sex.
She should never have listened to Bev. One night stands and casual sex had never

been her style. Real feelings were just below the surface fighting for recognition. Her
attraction to Corey was based on some kind of deeper connection than a mere fling
offered.

Even when they had been fighting, there had been electricity in the air, charged and

ready to ignite.

"I'll go if you want me to. Granted, I'll leave with regret and a damn bit of pain, but

I'll respect your wishes."

Her heart jumped a beat. Go? How could he even suggest such a thing as he stood

there with a hard-on that could stop time it was so impressive?

"No," she said, as her arms went around his neck. "Don't go. I want you." Damn if

her voice didn't quiver ever so slightly. "I want this."

The words had barely left her before his mouth closed down on hers, hot and

demanding, but welcomed. She pressed against him, leaving the security of the wall for
the strength of his body. His arms closed around her, hands sliding down her back,
molding their bodies together.

His hands traveled her body, caressing her, soothing and enticing all at once. He

touched her breasts, her arms, her stomach, even ran his hands the length of her thighs.
She could feel the water turning cold, but his fingers slid in between her thighs and she
really didn't care.

Next to her ear, she heard him say, "The water's getting cold. Come with me."
Seconds later she stood in front of the tub as he wrapped a towel around her before

moving to turn off the shower. She watched him in mute fascination, his naked body
mesmerizing, athletic well-honed perfection.

But it wasn't just his body she found so enthralling, but rather his manner. The way

he soothed her with his voice, enticed but calmed her with his touch. She was an intense
person. His presence, something about contact with him, took away the edge and allowed
her to relax. He made her enjoy simple things on a different, more complete level.

He turned back to her, holding his hand out and a smile on his lips. Her hands held

the towel around her body like a shield of sorts. To take his hand she would have to drop
the towel. After several seconds, it fell to the ground as she slipped her hand in his.

He smiled. "I was hoping you weren't getting attached to that towel."
He moved then, surprising her, as he bent and picked her up. With the ease his size

and strength allowed, he carried her to the bedroom and sat her on the bed, dropping to
the floor in front of her.

Automatically she opened her legs allowing him to slide between them. Her hands

rested on his shoulders, her eyes on his face.

Back and forth his hands moved in soft caresses on her thighs. "I love your legs."

She took a breath. The way he spoke those words made her heart beat a little faster.

"Yeah?"

His eyes skimmed their length and then met hers. "Yeah," he said as his fingers

walked her inner thigh in a sensual exploration that had her so sensitized and wet she
couldn't think straight.

She managed to hold his gaze as he lowered his mouth to her knee. She swallowed

and bit her bottom lip. The moment his lips made contact, she shivered. The tiniest hint
of a smile turned up one corner of his mouth, telling her he had noticed.

Inch by inch, his mouth moved up her leg. He feathered kisses, some with his lips,

some with a combination of lips and tongue, against her inner thigh. As he moved up her
thigh, she felt anticipation thrum through her body. He ended his path at the top of her
thigh. His mouth was so close to her ultimate place of need, her core, she thought she
might die.

Then he blew, right there on her center. His mouth never made contact. Instead, he

moved to her other knee, leaving her on the edge and wishing he'd come back. But soon
the path up her other leg had her attention.

Her body was one big mound of anticipation.
He knew what he was doing to her and silently she vowed she would get back at

him. Later, the same way, but better.

At some point her hands inched behind her, fists digging into the mattress,

supporting her weight. Her eye lashes fluttered, closing for moments at a time before she
could force them back open.

Her eyes were closed when his mouth finally settled between her legs. A

combination of shock and pleasure rushed through her like a volcanic eruption, wild and
hot.

Instantly, she sat up, her hands going to the back of his head, entwining in the soft

locks of his hair, damp from the shower spray.

"Oh, uh," her breath caught in her throat as his tongue did little circles around her

nub, "Ohhhh..."

Sensations rolled through her body, and whatever force had lifted her upward was

now pushing her back down. He seemed to be finding pleasure zones never put to the test
in the past.

She moaned and her back hit the mattress. She made a sound of pleasure despite her

best efforts to hold it back. She'd always been self-conscious about noises during sex.
Bobby had once laughed at her for being too expressive.

Was she too loud?
Would Corey laugh at her?
Why couldn't she be as confident about this as she was about everything else?
She moaned again. Damn. She couldn't seem to help it.
It was his fault. The way his tongue was moving was like pure heaven on earth. Her

hands clenched around the comforter as she tried to keep quiet.

It was useless. As a sound started from her throat, she jerked to a sitting position.

"Corey, stop."

He looked up at her, face still positioned above her very needy clit. "Why?"
She didn't know what to say. Stop, it feels too good. I can't keep from making sounds.

No. She couldn't say that. "I ... uh ... you're making me crazy."

He grinned mischievously. "I know and I like it. So do you. You're wet, you're hot,

and I hear all those little sounds you're making. But until you're screaming my name, I'm
not done." He moved then, cupping her face with his hands, and brushing his lips across
hers. "You have a problem with that?"

The sounds were okay apparently, so... "No problem," she whispered.
He kissed her then, lips lingering on hers, briefly darting his tongue into her mouth.

"I'm gonna make you come now, Shelby."

Before she could say anything, he was back between her legs, the warmth of his

mouth covering her, making her drop back onto the mattress yet again.

Whatever he was doing before, though she wouldn't have believed it possible, he

stepped up a notch. She felt the sweet pain of build up, the trip towards the edge of the
waterfall, and she most definitely moaned.

No holding back.
He licked, suckled and teased until she was withering with need, and as she went to

the very edge of release, she called his name, and Gods, and who knew what else.

She tumbled over the edge of that waterfall and then no more sound came. It

couldn't, because every ounce of her energy was centered on the ripples of pleasure
between her legs.

Wave after incredible wave shook her.
When she finally came down, she was breathing hard, in complete awe of the

experience she had just had. And of the man responsible. "Oh, my God. Oh. That was...
That was..."

Corey slid up her body and settled his arms on the mattress beside her head. "It was

what?" he asked.

At this point she saw no reason to hold back. He was hard and pressing the proof

quite nicely between her legs, into her wetness. They were as intimate as two people
could get physically and she had already been about as loud as a wanton woman could
be.

So she said, "Amazing. It was so damn good."
He smiled a satisfied smile. "Amazing, huh?"
She nodded, her breathing still a bit off. "Yes ... yes. It was."
His smile held for several beats and then faded, his expression becoming one of

tenderness and passion. "You're amazing," he said softly, "and I really want you, Shelby."

She could feel his arousal not just between her legs but in his voice, in the air and in

his gaze. "I want you too, Corey."

Gently, he guided her more fully onto the mattress, closing his mouth over hers as he

did. His tongue was quick to slide between her teeth and instantly brought with it a wave
of warmth and need.

She kissed him back, letting her reaction to him come alive in the way she slid her

tongue along his, tasting him, wanting him, needing him. Her mouth clung, even as her
arms slid under his, around his back. Her body arched into him, pressing her softness
against his hardness.

A strange sound, almost tormented, came from his lips. Shelby moved to look at

him. "What is it?"

As his gaze met hers, his eyes told her he was fighting some internal battle. "I feel

like a damn teenager forgetting things I shouldn't. Tell me you're on the pill and I am not
making a big mistake here."

She smiled. "I'm on the pill. I promise. Don't expect me to be upset that I make you

forget things. Even important ones."

He let out a breath. "Thank you," he whispered, and buried his face in her neck.
Then he was there, kissing her, sliding inside her, sinking deep. The intensity of

sensations made her gasp into his mouth. His lips lingered above hers as he whispered her
name. "You feel so good."

"Yes," she returned because nothing else would form on her lips. To have him inside

her felt far better than her orgasm. He was a man who defied what she thought possible.
Over and over in such a short time span, he was changing what she considered reality.

In a far corner of her mind, she knew that meant he was dangerous to her heart. To

move her with such utter completeness was a sign of just how into this man she really
was.

Slowly he began to move, his head buried in her neck, hers in his. They clung

together, moving in unison, gradually building up speed. But Corey didn't seem to want
to rush. At random times, he simply stopped moving. Then he would kiss her, make love
to her mouth, touch and suckle her nipples.

When finally she thought she would die of pleasure, he allowed them to build to a

frenzied pace. In and out, bodies damp with the sweet exertion of pleasure, she was ready
for release.

Faster and faster, deeper and deeper. His body made her beg for more and arch her

hips with need. Without warning, she went over the edge of the waterfall. Ripples of
satisfaction rocked her body. Having him inside her while she came intensified the
orgasm, as did hearing him call out her name.

He arched his back, tossed his head back and shook with release before collapsing on

top of her, but gently, careful not to hurt her. A fact, even in her sated state of bliss, she
didn't miss. He was so tender. Proven further when he rolled over and pulled her with
him, onto his shoulder, holding her close.

Bliss.
That is what she felt lying in Corey's arms.

Chapter Six

Peaceful bliss lasted all of one minute before a banging started on the bedroom door.

"Are you in there, Corey?"

It was Dan's voice.
Corey used his elbows to lift his body to half mast at the same time Shelby shifted to

a sitting position grabbing for the sheet as she did. Corey looked at the door with
astonishment. "What the..."

Banging again. "Are you in there? Corey? Shelby?"
"Yeah, just a minute," Corey yelled irritably.
Shelby's face reddened. "Talk about embarrassing," she whispered as she looked at

Corey.

Instantly his hand went to the back of her hair. "Don't be." His voice was reassuring

and tender, but it couldn't take away what she was feeling.

"We have a situation," Dan all but bellowed. "You two get dressed and get down

here."

Get dressed.
The words made Shelby inwardly cringe.
Footsteps echoed signaling Dan's exit down the stairs.
Shelby made a quick move for the side of the bed, but Corey caught her arm and

pulled her into an embrace. "Please don't do this."

She swallowed. "I'm just going to find out what's going on."
"No, you're not," he insisted, his voice saying he knew what was going on. She was

shutting him out.

"Yes, I am," she said stiffly.
He slid his hand to the side of her face. "Look," he said quietly, "I know this isn't the

best of circumstances, Dan finding out and all, but we are good together, Shelby. Don't
throw it away."

She was rigid in his arms, emotionally shut off. This was a mistake. "We need to go

see what's happening."

* * * *

Corey couldn't believe Shelby's complete change of mood. She had turned cold as an

ice princess and he couldn't seem to do anything about it.

He stared at her a long, pregnant moment. "That's it? That's all you have to say?"
"People are waiting on us," she replied quietly, diverting her gaze to his chest where

one of her very bare breasts rested.

Damn. This was not the time to get a hard-on.
"Fine," he said, releasing her before she found out how his body was responding and

got even more upset. He quickly moved to the side of the bed, planting his feet on the
floor. Facing away from her.

Down boy.

He counted to ten, then stood and reached for his shorts. She hadn't moved, he

realized, suddenly wondering if she didn't want to get up naked in front of him.

No, he knew that was it.
That little bit of truth really chapped his bare ass. He dressed without looking at her,

in what little he had to put on. His shorts were it.

Turning towards the bed, he found her sitting with the sheet tightly tucked around

her knees, which were pressed to her chest. She stared at the bed covers, refusing to look
at him.

He shook his head and made a disgusted sound before running his hand through his

hair. "I'll get the hell out so you can dress in private."

It might not have been very adult of him, but he slammed the door as he exited,

feeling not one damn bit better for the effort.

* * * *

The minute the door slammed, the two big teardrops Shelby had been fighting

poured over the rims of her lashes. Dan would never respect her knowing she had slept
with a client. She'd let him down, and she'd let herself down. Already she was falling for
Corey, and that only proved she was one big wreck when it came to matters of the heart.

Swiping angrily at the dampness on her cheeks, she shoved the sheet aside and

rushed to find her clothes. The worst thing she could do was be absent while something
critical was happening.

Dan's urgency meant something big was going down. He never got uptight without

significant reason. How had he even gotten in the house without them knowing?

Less than five minutes later, Shelby was darting down the stairs. Voices echoed,

drawing her towards the sounds. She found Corey, Dan, Marcie and her mother in the
middle of the kitchen.

Or what was left of it.
"Good grief. What happened?" Shelby asked, appalled, as she took in the shambles

around her. Broken glass, smashed pictures and food products were dumped everywhere.

Dan looked at Shelby, and spoke with deliberateness in his tone. "You tell me."
Point taken. Her stomach felt like she had been kicked. It was her job to protect

Corey. She had failed. No, Corey hadn't been injured, but he had been exposed. Her eyes
locked with Dan's. She knew the position she was in and her accountability. She wasn't
going to defend herself when she didn't deserve defending.

She deserved Dan's scorn and she knew it.
Shelby didn't look at Corey, but she felt his eyes on her, heavy and probing. Marcie

leaned against a counter top watching her mother pace and talk so fast in Spanish,
Shelby's head was spinning.

"As of an hour ago, this hadn't taken place," Shelby said in a businesslike tone.

"Have the police been called?"

"No police," Corey said firmly.
Her eyes locked with his. "Why is that, exactly?"
His jaw tensed. "Something always manages to get into the press. Yet the results I

get from their efforts aren't worth a pot to piss in. Forget it. The last thing I need is press
on this."

Shelby looked at Dan, intent on asking his opinion, but Corey wasn't having it.
"This is my house, my call," Corey said, as if he sensed her reason for looking at

Dan.

She refocused on Corey. "Fair enough," she said coolly. "I assume you have a

security system?"

"State of the art," Dan said, eyeing the mother and daughter nearby, both chattering

to one another, making focus hard to achieve. Somehow, he kept his irritation from
showing on his face, but she knew it was there.

"Clearly not good enough," Shelby said of his system. "I'll have my guys take a look

when they get here."

Dan pressed two fingers to his temples. "No way someone got through that system

who wasn't a pro or an insider."

The room grew instantly quiet. Shelby looked around, lingering on Marcie before

focusing on Corey. "Either is a major problem."

Dan fixed her in a hard stare. "Now you see why I want you undercover and close to

Corey?"

What his eyes said, but his mouth didn't, was he hadn't meant literally. Shelby

cleared her throat. "I see there is a real threat, yes. No one should have been able to do
this so easily, right here under our noses."

Dan nodded his agreement. "It's as if someone is telling us how easy it is to get close

to Corey."

"This is such crap," Corey said, the heavy irritation in his tone now unchecked.

"Nothing that has happened has been more than a nuisance. No real threat has occurred.
You're both jumping the gun."

"Corey," Shelby said, wanting him to understand. Her gut said there was a real

threat. She was always right when she felt this feeling. "I know this is hard..."

He cut her off. "No, Shelby, you apparently don't. We can't seem to get on the same

page."

Wow. Okay, what were they talking about here. "Corey..."
"I need to get dressed. We can talk later." With that said, he turned on his heels

leaving her staring after him.

"What was that?" Dan asked from behind her.
Evelyn made a soft sound. "Oh my, I've never seen Corey so upset."
Dan looked at her. "He'll be okay, Evelyn. Sorry you have all of this to deal with," he

added, looking around the kitchen. "I'll send out a crew to help you as soon as I can."

Evelyn smiled at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Just take care of Corey."
He nodded. "I will." Then to Shelby, "Why don't we step into the other room? I want

to show you some of the letters Corey has been receiving."

Minutes later, Dan sat behind a giant mahogany desk watching Shelby's face as she

looked through letter after letter addressed to Corey.

Several minutes later, she set the stack of papers on the desk, and with a weary sigh

she leaned back in the leather visitor's chair. "You should have called me sooner."

"You wouldn't have come."
The letters showed classic signs of obsession, with aggression growing with each

one. "The police?"

"No help. You know how they work. No prints, no clues, no help. And the letters

have abruptly stopped."

"Until someone is maimed or bleeding to death, their hands are tied. The police won't

help."

He nodded. "What's your take?"
"Same as yours. Insider. As for why the letters have stopped, I can't say. Maybe it

got boring." She shrugged. "Who knows?"

"You and Corey gonna be able to hang with the girlfriend routine?"
Shelby met his probing gaze squarely. "I can if he can."
"We need to know," Dan said pointedly. "He starts a home field series tonight."

* * * *

Standing outside Corey's door, hand poised to knock, Shelby took several calming

breaths. She could do this. She could talk to Corey, get things back on track and protect
and serve.

Oh. Ouch.
She pulled her hand away from the door, pressing two fingers to the bridge of her

nose.

Not serve.
Not him. Not him her. Though the thought brought appealing images to mind ... no!

Damn. What was wrong with her? She turned and paced the floor several times.

Back, forth, back, forth.
As her thoughts raced, she stopped pacing, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.
Just because they had had sex together did not mean they could not work together.

Okay, so it was more than sex. It was mind-blowing, amazing sex. The best she had ever
had. The kind cheesy romance novels wrote about, but nobody believed really existed.

Damn.
She started to pace again. She stopped.
Get a grip.
She took a breath. Get over it. Get over it. Get over it. Okay. Done. Sorta. Now

think. Be prepared. He wasn't going to make this easy for her, of that she was certain.
Still, contrary to her original impression, he seemed fairly reasonable.

She hoped.
Bottom line, she had made her own bed, now she had to lie in it.
She was a professional who had crossed a line. Now she had to be tough, suck it up,

and as uncomfortable as it might be, put it all back into the right businesslike mode.

Even if she did have to act like his girlfriend in the process. They were both adults,

so they'd deal.

So she cocked her wrist to knock and hit air. The door opened and Corey, looking

too damn good for her own good, stood before her.

Dressed in faded jeans, a basic blue tee that looked more like glorious body art, and

black work-style boots, he looked all bad-boy delicious.

He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, crossed one foot over the other, his

arms folded in front of his too damn likable chest.

"You're here," she said to him. Okay. That was brilliant.

His brow inched up as if he didn't believe her stupid comment any more than she did.

But he didn't say anything. Instead, he waited for her to open her mouth and insert her
foot again.

If only he would say something and piss her off, this would be so much easier. She

felt like encouraging him, rooting him on. Come on, Corey. Say something to piss me off.

But he didn't.
He just stood there. Waiting. On her.
And damned if he didn't look good doing it. Even a little wounded. His dark eyes had

a shuttered, injured animal anger in them. It was the kind of look you couldn't ignore if
you knew you put it there.

Damn.
Her resolve felt like the fading lifeline on a heart monitor, weak and inconsistent.

Her stomach fluttered with the reality of her circumstances.

She still wanted him.
He was like honey to a bear, thick with its sweetness, sticky with its consequences.
She couldn't just stand there. "Corey," she managed to say in a voice not her own,

"don't you think we should talk?"

He gave her a cool look. "You talk, I'll listen."
She didn't believe him. "You're not going to listen. I can tell from the way you're

acting."

His expression went blank. Even the wounded look in his eyes disappeared. "You

don't know me well enough to know what I am or am not going to do."

Logic said he was right, but she knew better. There was a weird connection between

them. She understood him on a deeper than surface level, without much effort. But some
things, like this, were better left unsaid.

"We have to work together. I can handle it, if you can."
He tilted his chin slightly to give her a doubting look. "Can you now?"
"Of course I can. I have a job to do."
His tone was low, taut. "And what job is that, Shelby?"
"Look," she said with surprising calm in her voice considering she felt anything but,

"we both know it was a mistake to get personal. It was a line that shouldn't have been
crossed."

"So you're telling me you can act like my girlfriend, and keep a professional

distance?"

No. "Exactly."
"Huh," he said, pushing off the wall. "We'll see, won't we?"
"What's that suppose to mean?" Shelby said with a frown.
He shrugged nonchalantly, but she knew he was much tenser than he let show. He

looked her squarely in the eyes. "I suggest you shower and change. We're due at the
coach's house in an hour."

Not yet. She needed time to put on a game face. "Why? For what?"
"Home game ritual. We go to his place before the game."
"We?"
"Players, wives, girlfriends."
"Oh."

Chapter Seven

Slanting Shelby a quick glance before he reached for his car door, Corey bit back a

smile. He didn't believe for one second she was able to simply cut off her attraction to
him.

In fact, just the opposite.
Every time they made eye contact, their connection danced between them like a hot

flame of attraction. Not a slight one, either. The two of them heated up a room when they
looked at one another.

She couldn't hide from what they had. It was one of those things people could see

just being around them, a rare connection that couldn't be ignored.

Intending to open her car door for her, he wasn't surprised when she beat him to the

punch and stepped out of the car. Surely she knew avoiding physical contact wasn't going
to work. They were playing the role of lovers.

He stepped to her side. "Show time, sweetheart. You can't avoid touching me

forever."

She eyed him. "Who said I was?"
His lips turned up in an amused smile. "Me. Didn't you just hear me?"
Holding out his hand, he looked at her expectantly, not able to prevent his gaze from

slipping to the snug, light blue tee she wore. It gave him a nice viewing of her well-
rounded bust. Her arms moved, crossing in front of her body protectively. He met her
pouty expression and held it. His look was loaded. It told her, with certainty, he was
thinking about touching those beautiful breasts.

He wanted her to think about it, too.
He made no effort to control his body's reaction to his thoughts. Yeah, he started

getting hard, but he didn't care. He'd be touching her for the next couple of hours. It was
inevitable, anyway.

When his eyes returned to hers, he dropped his outstretched arm and moved towards

her. Quickly, before she could react, he put his arm around her, maneuvering her so he
could look down into her eyes. "I've never brought a woman to one of these things. They
will never believe I'm into you if we don't give them a good show."

Her eyes flashed. "You're enjoying taunting me, aren't you?"
He had no intention of pretending he didn't still want her. "I'm enjoying having you

in my arms again, Shelby." It was an honest response he knew would take her off guard.

"We can't..."
"Why?" he demanded softly.
Her eyes had a trace of panic in them, perhaps because her body was sinking against

his, no longer fighting the battle to stay detached along with her mind.

"You're my client."
"That's nothing more than an excuse to hide behind."
A familiar voice rang through the air drawing their attention towards the porch of the

stucco white mansion.

"Corey, man, hurry the hell up. The game is about to start."

Brad Mannings, Corey's best friend and team catcher, stood on the top step

motioning them to come inside. Corey didn't move. Damn Brad's timing. Corey waved
him off, silently telling him to get lost. Brad hesitated and turned back toward the house.

Slowly, as Brad moved back into the house, Corey watched as Shelby refocused on

him. "I know you and Brad are close," she said, "but you can't tell him who I am."

"We can trust Brad."
Her response was quick, her tone etched with determination. "I'm not questioning

Brad, but he might trust someone he shouldn't. You can't tell him."

"Then we better give him a damn good show. It's going to be hard for him to believe

I brought you here and he never heard of you before today."

"The story we made up in the car is a good one."
Corey shrugged. The truth was he wanted Shelby to be someone in his life, not by

way of a story. He wanted a relationship with her.

He had no problem telling people she was his girlfriend. He just hated lying about

her history with him. "Brad and I are close. He's going to question things." No promise he
wouldn't tell Brad the truth if he asked. "We better get inside. They'll be waiting on me."

"For what?"
He gently nudged her forward, keeping his arm around her shoulders. "Horseshoes.

The coach says it's a team building thing and good luck."

Laughing lightly, she asked incredulously, "You play before all games?"
He took her hand in his as they stepped up the porch stairs. "Home games. As crazy

as it sounds we haven't lost a home game since Coach Bradshaw took over so we do it
without complaint. Baseball players are superstitious." Reaching for the front door, he
said, "Ready to meet the team?"

She hesitated. "As ready as I'll ever be."
Then, without warning her, he aborted opening the door and pulled her close, kissing

her. Not a little kiss, either. A full mouth, wet, passionate, 'remember how good it feels to
kiss me' kind of kiss.

For several heartbeats she pressed against his chest, palms flat, body tense. Seconds

later, her arms wrapped around his neck as their tongues pressed together in sweet little
strokes of surrender.

"Hey man, stop that. You need your strength for the pitcher's mound."
Brad again.
Neither Corey nor Shelby had heard the front door open. Reluctantly Corey broke

the kiss. He looked at Brad. "Your name should be Tom."

Brad's brows dipped.
"As in Peeping Tom," Corey added.
Brad grinned. "You have two minutes and then I take the girl for my own." He

quirked his brows up and down, and let the door slam with a bang as he turned away.

Still holding Shelby close, Corey laced the fingers of one hand into her hair. "Do you

really want to pretend something this good never happened?"

She drew a shaky breath, her eyelids heavy. "You're my client."
"Answer the question."
She wet her lips. "No. I just..."

He cut her off with another kiss. This time he gently dipped his tongue into her

mouth, using a slow, tantalizing motion. When he ended the kiss, he brushed his lips
against hers, breathing with her for one blissful moment. "Then don't."

Brad opened the door. "Time's up. Coach says get your ass inside."

* * * *

Apparently, Corey was as good at Horseshoes as he was at kissing, which was too

damn good, because no one had a chance in hell of beating him.

Her fingertips went to her lips, as her mind went to the feel of Corey's lips on hers.

Try as she might, she couldn't concentrate on sizing up the crowd. Corey had taken her
off guard when he had kissed her right in front of his coach's house. And his words had
knocked her off her feet.

To hear him say he wasn't going to let her ignore what was between them had been

unexpected.

It had been hard to walk into the house without having time to talk things through

with him. Dismissing what had happened between them simply because Dan knew ... she
regretted it. It had been cold and unfair.

The truth was Corey scared her. She knew she could really fall for him, and she

didn't want to get hurt.

Now, sitting in a patio chair next to the coach's wife, Heather Bradshaw, a blond

bombshell of a woman ten years younger than her husband, she forced her attention to the
conversation. Neither she nor the coach knew who Shelby really was. They would all
know her men, but not her. Mike and Dale were meeting Corey at the game, which was
not the ideal place, but since their flight was delayed, unavoidable. Dan planned to take
them directly to the field and make a production of their presence.

Heather smiled, and shook her head. "Amazing," she said. "Corey wins every time."
"Yes," said Libby Reynolds, a redhead who seemed to have a sweet disposition and

dated Brad. "Dating him gave me a complex. He is always right about everything."

Shelby, who had been watching Corey as he made a toss, turned her attention to

Libby. "You dated Corey? But you're seeing his best friend?"

Libby laughed. "Corey doesn't care, believe me. I never even made it to one of these

backyard functions by his side. Nobody has."

Her words implied the obvious, nobody besides Shelby. Ignoring the statement,

Shelby asked, "How long have you been seeing Brad?"

"Three months." She eyed Brad who was laughing along with Corey and several

other players. "He's a real teddy bear. Easy to get close to and real lovable." She snorted.
"Unlike Corey."

Shelby's eyes narrowed. "What's that mean?"
Heather answered. "Corey's very guarded with women." She hesitated. "Really, with

everyone besides Brad. He likes his privacy."

"Yeah," Libby added. "Brad says Corey's mad about Bishop pressing him to take on

extra security." She looked at Shelby and explained, "that's the owner of the team." She
shook her head. "I don't understand a celebrity who doesn't want to be treated like one."

Heather sighed. "Coach isn't happy about the idea either, but I keep telling him

Bishop means well."

Shelby laughed. "You just called your own husband 'Coach'."
Heather winked. "He likes it. He has a thing for power, if you know what I mean."
Too much information. Shelby was trying to decide how to respond when she

suddenly felt Corey's hands on her shoulders. Amazing, but without even looking up, she
knew it was him. He felt a certain way, warm, inviting, exciting, and right.

She looked up at him and found the same feelings in his eyes. "Hey," she said softly,

head spinning with the impact of her response to such a small gesture.

He bent down next to her sliding his hand to her knee. "Hey yourself. How's it

going?" he asked in an intimate voice for her ears only.

"Good," she said, because nothing else seemed to form on her lips. They stared at

one another, millions of emotions welling inside her. Electricity passed between them,
charged with a depth of understanding extending well beyond the longevity their
relationship should have allowed.

How had she ever thought she could simply dismiss their connection?
Heather interjected, breaking their silent communication. "Uh oh, Carl's throwing a

hissy again."

Corey didn't look at Heather, but he explained her words to Shelby. "Carl Malone is

a rookie pitcher just brought up from the farm team. He hates that I always kick his ass."

Heather responded as if he was talking to her. "It would help if you didn't call him

pansy ass all the time."

As if on cue, Brad walked up and sat down next to Libby. "Pansy ass has his panties

in a wad again."

Heather slapped her hands on her lap. "See what I mean?"
Libby added, "It wouldn't hurt Corey to be a little more humble about his wins."
Shelby's brow inched up playfully, but in the back of her mind, even as she

addressed Corey, Libby's words made her wonder if she was as sweet as she had first
seemed. "Tell me you don't gloat over horseshoes."

"Never," he said in feigned innocence, as Libby said, "Always," at the same time.
Brad patted Libby on the back. "Down, girl. No biting before the games. You know I

only let you fight with Corey after he pitches a shut out. This would be before."

Coach Bradshaw walked up, a tall man with gray hair, broad shoulders, and tough

chiseled features. "Going for four, Corey?"

Corey pushed to his feet, but his hand stayed on Shelby's shoulder. It made Shelby's

stomach flip-flop. Was he playing out their act or...?

Corey's voice was monotone. "I never speculate, Coach. You know that."
Libby snorted. "Quiet arrogance all the way."
"Knock it off, Libby," Brad said with irritation etching his tone.
"Coach," yelled one of the players from the sliding glass door leading to the kitchen.

"That PR lady is here to see you."

"Shit," muttered the coach, shaking his head. "This is the last damn thing I need on

game day. Why in the hell did Bishop have to hire this woman?"

Heather squeezed his hand and they exchanged a look. "He's heading off problems,"

she said in a voice that said it wasn't her first time to say the words.

"Over me," Corey said to Shelby. "They're afraid the press will make a big deal out

of the threats if it gets out."

Libby made a cutting remark. "But you don't want her here for other reasons, right

Corey?"

"You're not the only reason they hired her, Corey," Heather inserted, but he didn't

seem to hear her. "There have been other players with bad press."

Shelby wanted to know what other reasons, but she didn't want to feed Libby's bad

attitude. She needed to understand the concern over the press. "Press is good, isn't it?"

Heather answered. "You never know what twists will unfold when the press is

involved." Then she looked pointedly at her husband. "Bishop has good reasons for this
and you know it."

Referencing the PR lady, he responded, "She pisses off the players." Looking

towards the door, he yelled, "Keep her inside. Oh hell, too damn late. Here she comes."

Shelby looked up to see a pretty blond with four-inch heels and a twelve-foot ego

walking across the lawn. No question where her attention was directed, either.

At Corey.
And as for the players getting pissed at her ... clearly, it did nothing to dampen their

raging libidos. Male eyes latched onto her as if she was the playmate of the year.

Which was actually a rather fitting description.
Blond, big breasted, and legs that went on and on.
Shelby ignored the low hoots and whistles and focused on Corey. He, unlike the

other guys, was not drooling. In fact, he didn't seem at all pleased about her presence.

She, however, was another story. This woman wanted Corey. Jealousy flared, but she

quickly squashed it as ridiculous. She had no rights where he was concerned.

Brad and Libby exchanging low, but nevertheless heated words, drew Shelby's

attention. "Why do you always take his side?" Libby was saying.

"Why do you have to do this on game day?" Brad returned, with the edge to his voice

getting sharper.

Libby's voice went up a notch. "You always take his side."
Corey's eyes sharpened. "Brad, we have company. Now is not a good time."
Brad's jaw clenched and though his voice was low, it was thick with intention. "Don't

do this, Libby."

Libby pushed to her feet, bursting into tears as she balled her fists by her sides. "I'm

so tired of coming in second."

Shelby's mouth dropped as Libby turned and ran towards the house. Right past the

prissy blond with her nose in the air, who no doubt was making mental notes for her little
PR problem book.

"Oh, hell," Brad muttered, as he watched her retreat and then quickly eyed Heather.
Heather held up her hands. "Don't look at me. I'm not going after her. This gets older

and older every time."

Corey shook his head. "Man, why do you mess with her?"
Libby was a suspect in Shelby's book which meant, like it or not, she needed to get

to know her. "I'll go after her."

Corey pulled her to his side and gave her a penetrating stare. "You sure?"
Shelby sighed. Her eyes went to the woman about to stop in front of them. "Yeah,

I'm sure. No sense letting this go any further than it has to." Slanting him a look, she
smiled at Corey, sensing he was tenser than he let show on the outside. "Besides," Shelby
said, "looks like you have company."

Corey stared at Shelby a long moment, not looking towards the approaching visitor.

Then, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"Yeah," he said in a soft voice. "Maybe I should go help you with Libby. Tina

Wright is a bigger pain in my ass than Pansy Ass."

Relief, unwelcome because of its symbolism, washed over her. He didn't like this

Tina woman. And she was happy about it. "I'll handle Libby. Something tells me that
woman would follow if you went with me."

He laughed. "You can protect me, right?"
She shook her head. "You're on your own with this one."

* * * *

The bathroom seemed the logical place for a crying female to go. Lord knew Shelby

had dealt with her sister enough to know the drill. Libby had some of Carrie's traits,
namely, and most obvious, a selfish need for attention.

As she made her way through the house, Shelby wished she had asked where the

closest bathroom could be found. She was left guessing which way was the right way. In
such a big house, that could mean a lot of guesswork.

Just past the living rooms, there was a long, dark hallway.
With a heavy sigh, Shelby decided it was her best choice of directions, and stepped

forward. Silently, she eyed the walls for a light switch, squinting into the darkness.

As her eyes adjusted, she began checking several doorways, including that of a spare

bathroom, finding no signs of Libby. She was about to switch directions when a
shattering sound echoed through the silence, seeming to come from the door at the end of
the hallway.

Following the noise, she moved quickly towards the doorway. As she entered the

room, it was apparent she now stood in the master bedroom. Besides the fact it was
elaborately decorated and bigger than Shelby's entire living room, it was without a doubt
a room of distinction. A quick scan told her no one was present, so she proceeded
towards the entrance to the bathroom.

Peering cautiously through the doorway, she found flower buds amongst broken

glass in the middle of the black tiled floor. Glass chunks had splattered around the room
in a wide enough range to indicate the vase had hit the ground hard, clearly thrown. At
least, that was Shelby's best guess.

Whoever was responsible had exited the door on the opposite side of the room.

Apparently, the bathroom joined two rooms. Shelby walked towards the vase, intending
on picking it up so no one would get hurt, when the door slammed behind her. She
jumped and whirled towards the door, reaching for the knob and pulling only to find it
locked. Her eyes went to the lock. It was on the inside. That meant someone had jammed
the door from the outside.

Intentionally.
Heart pounding anxiously, mind racing with possibilities, she started to turn towards

the other door. Too late though because it slammed shut with a huge burst of sound.

Damn.

She leaned against the door trying to think, keeping the opposite entrance in sight.

Logic told her she wasn't in any real danger ... yet. It took guts to pull something like this
during such a busy occasion. There were people everywhere.

A loud thump hit the door directly behind her making her jump and whirl to face the

door. Immediately she looked over her shoulder at the other door, and called, "Who's
there?"

A long silence.
She leaned against the wall trying to keep both entrances in sight, looking from one

to the other nervously.

There, someone was there.
Shelby knew it, felt it, and sensed it.
The silence ended with a hushed whisper that seemed not male or female. "Go away,

bitch. We don't like you here."

Goosebumps surfaced on her skin, as a chill raced down her spine. There was

something about the presence ... a real darkness. Whoever this was, didn't play games.

Willing herself to get a grip, she took a deep, calming breath. Okay, that was it. She

needed to get attention to her location and fast. She walked to the bathtub and stepped
inside, intent on opening the small window above it.

She was reaching for the latch when she heard Corey calling her. In a quick

movement, she stepped out of the tub and moved towards the door. In a flash of
movement, she was pounding on the wooden surface, calling his name.

"What in the hell?" she heard him mutter, feeling relief just hearing his voice again,

knowing he had heard her. "Shelby?"

"Yeah," she called through the door, trying to sound calm. "Get me the hell out of

here, will you?"

Moments later the door opened, and Shelby launched herself at the opening. Corey

caught her arms, facing her. "What's going on?"

She looked over his shoulder. "Did you see anyone when you came down the hall?"
His brows dipped, concern etching his features. "No one," he said. "When Libby

came back and you didn't, I came looking for you. Someone stuck a hanger in the
doorknob. Talk to me, Shelby."

"Someone threatened me. Dan was right. It's someone close to you, Corey, and they

want me out of the picture. The question is, is it because I'm supposed to be dating you or
because they know who I really am?"

Corey slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her close. His voice was urgent.

"Someone threatened you? Tell me exactly what happened."

Shelby replayed the events for him and then said, "So you see, I'm fine. It was

nothing really. But it doesn't make sense. I just got here. What kind of threat can I be?"

He stared down at her. "You really don't get it do you?"
Her brows dipped. "Get it? Meaning what?"
His hand slid to the side of her face. "It's obvious to people who know me that you're

different."

She still didn't follow, but the look in his eyes was making her heart beat faster. And

fear wasn't the culprit. Damn, the power the man had over her. She swallowed.
"Different?"

"Shelby," he said softly. "There is something about you, something that drives me

crazy, and makes me want to find out why."

Her breath caught in her throat. God, how she wanted to believe him, believe that he

was all he seemed to be, that he really felt something for her. But right now, she needed
to stay focused, to figure out what had just happened. If what he inferred was true,
whoever locked her in the bathroom was jealous, and possessed an unhealthy fixation on
Corey.

"Corey..."
He stopped her with his mouth, gently covering her lips with his, lingering, as if he

was absorbing her very essence.

When he finally pulled his lips from hers, he looked into her eyes, "I'm not going to

let whoever this is hurt you."

She smiled, despite herself. "I'm here to protect you, not you me."
He sighed, "Don't you see? I don't need your protection Shelby, but I do need you

here with me."

She didn't know what to say. "I'm here to protect you."
He grinned. "If it makes you feel better, we'll protect each other." He motioned

towards the door. "Right now, I have a game to play. We'll have to deal with all the rest
of this later."

Shelby started to argue, but then simply shook her head. Whoever had locked her in

the bathroom was still here, in this house, watching.

All of a sudden, going to the ballpark sounded like a good idea. This house made

things a little too close for comfort.

Corey's lips brushed her temple. It was a simple act, but so tender, it not only sent a

shiver of awareness down her spine, it warmed her heart.

Allowing him to pull her along behind him, she wondered if it wasn't Corey who was

a little too close for comfort.

Chapter Eight

Corey was having a great game. Shelby, on the other hand, was completely on edge.

The bathroom incident had her wound as tight as a rubber band.

To make matters worse, despite his successful pitching, Shelby could tell something

was wrong with Corey. Sitting behind the dugout in the seating area for the family and
friends of the players, Shelby watched him closely. Her security team was in place,
having arrived mere minutes before the game.

A fact that should have made her feel better, but it didn't. Now, both of her men

stood inside the actual dug out, looking big, menacing and completely oblivious to the
fact something was not right.

Corey sat on the opposite side of the dugout from any of the other players. He didn't

speak, nor was he spoken to or even approached. What did everyone know that she
didn't?

Had he been threatened?
"Why are you making that horrible face," Heather asked from beside her.
Biting the inside of her mouth, Shelby silently cursed her own, far too obvious

fretting. Though she doubted Heather would know the answer, desperation for an answer
made her ask. "Why is Corey sitting alone like that?"

To Shelby's surprise, Heather laughed. "Darling, you really don't know much about

baseball, do you?" The truth was she knew more about football. "When a pitcher is
having a no-hitter, he is left alone. No one talks to him, sits with him, or even looks at
him. They leave him to his zone."

In a strange way, it made sense. It was clear to her that pitching was as much mental

as physical. Watching, live and in person, as each batter tried to defeat the pitcher, she
was able to see how much pressure Corey endured.

Mike and Dale, her two security guys were big baseball fans which explained their

lack of response to Corey's situation. "So that's all that's going on?"

Heather hugged Shelby. "Yes, but I wouldn't phrase it quite like that. It's a big deal, a

no-hitter. Corey's a talented pitcher."

Shelby looked at him, alone, head leaning against the wall, hands sprawled open on

his knees. She wondered how he had blocked out the threats and still performed. Maybe
his reluctance to admit there was a problem was a shield of sorts to hide from the
distraction.

Half to herself, she said, "I don't know how he does it."
Heather snorted, and to Shelby's amazement, coming from her, it actually sounded

feminine. "He loves what he does. We feel more pressure than he does. I've been around
these guys a long time. They feed on this stuff. Speaking of which, you know what you
need?"

Heather didn't know Corey had the added pressure of the threats. Shelby worried

about him and the load he carried while she also marveled at his mental will.

"Huh?" she asked absently, not completely focused on Heather, because she was

worried about Corey. "Need?"

"Baseball food. Nachos and those big fat ice cream sandwiches. It takes the pressure

off us viewers who have to watch people like Corey do their thing. And," she said
smiling, "it's a girl thing. Our reward for sitting on the sidelines is watching all those tight
butts in those fitted pants while we eat junk food."

That made Shelby laugh. Her eyes went to Corey and she smiled. His butt did look

quite admirable in those tight baseball pants, though at the moment she couldn't see it.
Still her imagination ran wild. "I see your point."

"Um," Heather said. "Baseball butts are the best."
"I'll second that," Shelby said with a big grin, as she thought of Corey's very

squeezable butt.

* * * *

Corey had pitched another shut-out. While it wasn't a no-hitter, from what Shelby

gathered it was darn close and damn good.

Hours after the game and all the craziness that followed, including fans and press,

Shelby sat at Corey's kitchen table listening to Mike and Dale as they rambled on about
Corey's greatness.

The unexpected thing was, unless Shelby was totally off base, Corey seemed almost

uncomfortable with the praise. Of course, Mike and Dale were a bit overwhelming with
their bigness. Big bodies, big attitudes-that was just who they were.

Tonight was no exception.
The minute they had arrived, everyone knew they were present. The players all knew

them by name and females were already deciding the two of them were close matches to
the athletes themselves.

So now as Mike, the loud one of the two, replayed one of the many strike-outs from

the game, it was easy for Shelby to tune him out and focus on Corey. But then, Corey
drew her attention like a magnetic field anyway. Watching him as Mike spoke, she noted
there was no gloating, as with the horseshoe game, and no promises of more to come.
Silence seemed the only offering Corey had at present.

Eyeing him with a probing gaze, she couldn't help where her thoughts drifted. Bobby

had been all ego, hardly leaving room for anyone else in his own bigness. Could Corey
really be different from Bobby? Maybe she had judged Corey harshly, grouping him in
with a past she didn't want to relive.

"Huh."
All three men looked up at her. Whoops. Said that out loud. Not a well-placed

comment considering she had no clue what the conversation had been at the time. Guilt
etched her features as she tried for a nonchalant shrug. "Sorry."

"What did 'huh' mean?" Corey asked, clearly not willing to let her off the hook

without an explanation.

The truth simply wouldn't do. Not this time. Best to redirect attention. "The voice I

heard could have been a male or female the way it was muffled. What about the rookie
pitcher? Could he be behind all of this?"

"He doesn't have the balls," Dale said bluntly.

Shelby looked at Dale and then at Corey. "Rookie made a fast impression," Corey

noted with a grin that quickly disappeared. "As for the theory, the threats started before
he hit the scene."

"What was the last incident?" Dale asked.
"Me, in the bathroom," Shelby stated with a hint of irritation in her voice. Dale

already knew about the most recent incidents. "The kitchen before that."

"Actually," Corey said, followed by a heavy sigh, and Shelby's eyes snapped to his

face, "I got a phone call on my cell."

Mike and Shelby said, "When?"
"In the locker room, just before the game."
Dale couldn't contain his admiration. "And you still pitched a no-hitter. That's

fucking bad ass, man."

Shelby gave him a mean look. He tried to look apologetic, but didn't succeed. "Sorry,

boss."

"And?" Shelby asked. "What happened?"
His voice was monotone. "I love you, Corey. Soon we'll be together. Just like all the

others."

He looked like he wanted to say something else, so Shelby said, "And?"
His expression was grim, but his tone the same as his prior one. "Get rid of the bitch

or I will." Corey's gaze locked with Shelby's though he spoke to the entire table. "I wasn't
worried before, but I don't want Shelby in danger."

"I'm fine," she said quickly, holding his gaze.
"We'll keep a close watch on her," Dale said immediately.
Mike, who had dark, dangerous looks but a heart of gold, tapped his fingers on the

table. She could see worry in his eyes, but he said nothing acknowledging the threat.
Shelby knew that was just his professional manner.

He was more than a little concerned.
But no doubt, to Corey, Mike appeared calm and collected as he began questioning

him. "Clearly this is an insider, someone you know and trust. How about the coach's
wife?"

Corey let out a bark of disbelieving laughter. "No way, not Heather."
Mike wasn't ready to take that answer. "She's far younger than the coach. Could be

she has a secret crush on you. You have to admit she would have known her way around
the house to trap Shelby in the bathroom like that."

Corey's jaw hardened, his tone becoming crisp. "Heather is a good friend and in love

with her husband. It's not her. Move on."

Mike's eyes fixed on Corey's face. "You are going to have to be more open-minded if

we are going to get to the bottom of this. If the answer was easy, we wouldn't be here.
This is what we do, and we're damn good at it, Corey. You're Grade A at ball, and we're
Grade A at catching bad guys."

Silence, long and uncomfortable, filled the air. Then abruptly Corey pushed to his

feet. "It's late and we leave for Texas tomorrow. I'm going to bed."

Without another word, he turned and walked away. Shelby stared at his retreating

form, wondering if she should follow. Did he want her to or not? Maybe he was blowing
her off. She wanted to scream at him to come back and make her life simpler.

Somehow, she hadn't thought she'd be sleeping alone tonight. But since she was too

chicken to go after him, it looked like alone it was.

And as much as she didn't want to deal with Mike and Dale's concern, they were

both staring at her, waiting to talk. She should be thankful they cared, and truly she was,
but ... right now she needed to be alone to think.

About her and Corey.
About who she considered a suspect.
About a lot of complicated things.
"I don't like these threats, Shelby," Mike announced.
Sighing, Shelby realized there was no escaping the man-made hell she was in for the

night.

Her phone rang, offering the unexpected escape. Looking skyward, she said a silent

thank you. Eyeing Mike, she reached for her purse to retrieve her phone. "Hold that
thought."

Seconds later, she hit the answer button on her phone. "Hello?"
Silence.
Her eyes shut. This wasn't the kind of escape she had in mind. "Hello."
Nothing.
Irritation inched up her neck. It had been a long day, and she was out of patience,

and composure. Unexpectedly, even to herself, she blurted, "I said you'll get your
money!"

The line went dead.
"What was that?" Mike demanded, as Dale mumbled something incoherent, but

Shelby was certain held the same general context.

Shelby pressed two fingers between her brows. "Just make sure Bev and Carrie are

careful. Those damn loan-sharks aren't going to let me forget they're around."

"What'd they say to you?" Dale asked.
Mike nodded. "And how'd they get your cell? That's a private line."
Shelby stuck her phone back in her purse and pushed to her feet. "They didn't say

anything," she said to Dale, and then to Mike, "and how in the heck do I know how they
got my phone number."

"Then how do you know it's them and not someone related to this Corey issue?"
Shelby's brows dipped. "I just do." Didn't she? "Look," Shelby said through a

clenched jaw, not willing to think of any other possibility. She was on overload. "Just
check on Bev and Carrie, okay? I need some time to think."

Mike eyed her with a determined expression. "You have tonight. Tomorrow we are

talking about those calls and the threats."

Shelby snorted. "I used to think you worked for me."
"I do," Mike agreed, "but we're also friends."
Shelby felt her heart soften. "I know," she said as her shoulders slumped slightly. "I

do appreciate your concern," she looked from one to the other, "both of you. I just need
some time tonight."

Mike and Dale looked at each other, seemed to make a silent agreement. Mike gave

her a quick nod. "Tomorrow, then."

* * * *

Sexual frustration, along with emotional havoc was a double bitch.
Since she was obviously going to bed alone, Shelby determined some form of relief

was in order. Physical exertion seemed her only hope for rest. Even that didn't make her
feel overly optimistic.

Having spotted a pool in the backyard, Shelby donned a basic black bikini, one that

thankfully offered fairly good coverage, and made her way out the backdoor of the house.

She didn't turn on the lights, not wanting to draw attention to her presence. The last

thing she needed was Mike or Dale checking on her. They treated her like a sister, often
acting protective. Hovering and keeping watch over her was not beyond their realm of
acceptable standards.

Once she was poolside, she flipped on the lights inside the water, leaving the

surrounding area dark. Sitting on the edge of the tiles, she stuck her feet into the
surprisingly warm water. Sighing, she flattened her palms behind her, resting her weight
on her hands, and closed her eyes.

She sat there for several long minutes, deep in thought, absorbing the silence as if it

were a healing balm. Awareness came to her in a soft echo that seemed to brush her mind
and body as one. Without opening her eyes, without moving, she knew Corey was there.

She even felt his hesitation, as if he wanted to approach her, but didn't know how she

would respond. It was the oddest thing, the way she just knew. Embracing whatever
connection she shared with him, she didn't move, but said softly, with encouragement in
her tone, "Come sit with me."

Seconds later he slid behind her, his legs straddling her, his hands gently sliding

around her bare stomach urging her to lean against his shirtless chest. He wore only swim
trunks, showing that he, too, had come for a swim.

As he nuzzled her neck, she could feel the warmth of his breath as it tickled her ear.

Soft sensations of awareness tingled within, making her force back a sound in her throat.

He felt so good, so addictive.
"I didn't mean to run off and leave you." His lips lingered above her ear, so close she

could feel his breath. The sincerity in his words was easy to identify, making her relax
just a bit more into his body.

"I know," she assured him, as she pulled her feet from the water and brought them to

the tiles, turning sideways in his arms, her hand resting on his arm. Giving him a probing
look she said, "Something upset you beyond the obvious back there. Do you want to talk
about it?"

His eyes were dark, turbulent, but no less breathtaking. She had always heard the

saying, 'windows to the soul', but had never understood it until now. Looking into Corey's
eyes on this night, was like looking into a deep pool of emotion. They had the power to
make his feelings her own. Wrapping around her and pulling her into their current, it was
as if his feelings lived inside her as well.

And maybe they did.
It felt as if they did.
His hand went to the side of her face, cupping it. "Just knowing you're here, willing

to listen, is enough for now."

She wasn't so sure. Something in his eyes, in him, said he wanted to talk. There was

so much more to this man than she had originally realized. "Are you sure?" she prodded
gently. "I'm a good listener."

A flash of something, confusion perhaps, uncertainty, flickered through his eyes.

Suddenly she understood his struggle, because it was her own as well. "You're just as
afraid to trust me as I am you, aren't you?"

He didn't answer, but his expression, one of shocked disbelief, said it all.
Tenderness slipped into her heart and onto her face. She spoke gently, sincerely.

"We're a pair, aren't we, Corey? Both afraid of letting anyone in." She let out a soft,
humorless laugh. "We may never get to know one another."

His fingers trailed down her cheek to her lips. Gently he used his index finger to

trace her bottom lip. For long moments he simply touched her, watching her face,
seeming to ponder both her and his own thoughts. Then finally, in a voice as soft as the
evening breeze, he said, "I'm willing to try if you are."

This time, she was the silent one. For several seconds, she felt completely, utterly

mesmerized by the soulful depths of those crystal gray eyes. What she felt with him
looking into her eyes was hard to comprehend, and impossible to put into words. It was
as if they were somehow joined together as one, feeling the same things.

"Yes," she finally whispered, "I want to try."
Slowly he moved, inching their bodies closer, lowering his mouth towards hers until

it lingered mere inches above hers. Anticipation burned inside, stirring her passion,
enticing her hunger. It took effort not to push her lips to his.

"Shelby." It was a mere whisper but it screamed of emotion, raw and barely

shackled. His lips brushed hers, feather-light, but with so much impact she felt as if she
couldn't catch her breath.

What was this man doing to her?

* * * *

Corey knew it was crazy, but he felt as if he needed Shelby.
Really needed her.
How could a woman he hardly knew make him feel so much? And what exactly was

this he was feeling?

Now, looking into her eyes, holding her, he only knew it felt right, as if he was

complete when he was with her. His lips brushed hers again. They were so soft, so
perfect.

So uniquely her.
"Shelby," he whispered, just before his lips closed down over hers. He slid his

tongue past her teeth, needing the deeper intimacy to further the connection, needing to
taste her, to feel as if she was a part of him.

He took his time, sliding his tongue against hers, amazed at how perfectly she met

him stroke for stroke, taste for taste. She whimpered into his mouth and it inched under
his skin, into his senses, pushing up his level of need to a burning ache.

He deepened the kiss, pulling her closer even as his tongue became more aggressive.

Her smell, a sweet floral scent, wrapped around him, teasing him even further.

The rush of emotion kissing her evoked, raged within. He hardly knew how to deal

with the intensity of it. Pulling his lips from hers, his mouth lingered just above her lips,
their breathing intermingled.

After long moments, he moved just enough to see into her eyes, to let the rush of his

feelings wash over her, as hers did him.

His forehead met hers. "What are you doing to me, Shelby?"
She made a sort of choked laughing sound. "What are you doing to me?"
He moved then, looking at her, his hand on her cheek. "Pretty crazy, these feelings,

huh?"

"Yes," she whispered hoarsely, "and it scares the hell out of me." She swallowed

visibly. "But I can't talk myself out of finding out what it's all about."

His thumb slid across her bottom lip. "Good. I don't want you to talk yourself out of

it."

With that said, he pushed to his feet, pulling her up with him. Not taking his eyes

from hers, he led her back into the darker shadows of the poolside, towards a canopy type
shelter complete with large, cushioned recliners and a table and chairs.

The minute he had her beneath the shelter, he kissed her. This time he let his desire

control the intensity of the kiss, kicking it up a notch, tasting her like she was sugar-sweet
and addictive.

Because that's how it felt as he kissed her.
He simply couldn't get enough of her. The magic of their need filled the air, mastered

the movement of their hands and tongues as they each explored one another.

Tasting and touching.
As she sank into him, he heard her moan. It was such a sexy little sound, he moaned

in return. Gone was any thought to their surroundings. All he could think about was
getting more of her, feeling her under his hands, tasting her more deeply.

His hands slid over the curve of her hips and around her nice, round butt. He had

never considered himself an ass man, but Shelby's was enough to make him reconsider.
Hers was a stellar ass, full but not too big.

It begged to be squeezed, so he did.
He pulled her tight against his erection, feeling the satisfaction of her softness

against his aroused body. His hands continued their exploration of her curves. She arched
her hips and seemed to kiss him with heightened urgency.

Need driving him, he lifted her weight and her legs wrapped around his waist.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Not far," he said, already sitting her down on top of the table, and gently nudged her

legs apart. Hands on her knees, he stepped back slightly to take in the sight she made.

The moonlight peeked through the overhead ceiling panels casting her in a sensual

glow. She was so damn beautiful, he couldn't move. He simply stood there, mesmerized
by her perfection.

Her lips, already full and perfect, were now swollen from his kisses. Why that

knowledge made his gut tighten, he didn't know. It simply did.

And her hair ... he loved her hair. Especially now, hanging like a wild lion's mane

around her shoulders, begging him to run his fingers through it.

His eyes found hers and what he saw in them was nothing short of just plain hot.

Barely contained desire raced through his body and must have lightened his eyes because
she said, "What?"

It took a moment for him to respond as he grasped for the right way to express what

he was feeling. "You take my breath away," he told her, meaning it on such a deep level
he felt a moment of panic. His eyes dropped, intentionally shielding them from her
viewing.

In doing so, his gaze settled on her breasts and a new type of feeling quickly replaced

the odd vulnerability he had been feeling. His index fingers skimmed the very edge of her
top, tracing the curve of her breasts. The top she wore wasn't skimpy, but it teased and
tempted. Or maybe that was just Shelby.

He took his time, moving his finger over the swell of one breast, then the other. Her

nipples were puckered beneath the material, an indicator she liked what he was doing and
an invitation to touch.

He let his fingers slide over the fabric and he circled her nipples in a slow, sensual

move. When he heard her suck in a breath, his eyes lifted, locking mid-air with hers.

Then, surprising him, holding his gaze as she moved, she reached up and untied the

string at her neck. The material fell downwards. His eyes feasted on the sight she made:
topless, tight round nipples, full, high breasts.

Without a conscious decision to move, he was kissing her, one hand filled with one

of those beautiful mounds, kneading the fullness and tweaking the nipple. She moaned
and clung, and all but drove him insane.

Shelby tugged at the waistband of his trunks. "I want you, Corey. Now."
"I want you, too," he responded, letting her pull the string at his waist loose, even as

her other hand covered his erection. She was stroking and holding it in a way that ensured
he had no control left.

Gingerly, she pushed down the elastic, freeing his erection from the restrictions of

his pants, exposing his hard length. Her hand closed around him. She looked down to
where she held him.

His eyes followed hers and he wondered if she could feel what she was doing to him.

The sight of her holding his body in her hand had only served to expand his need.

She began stroking him, driving him wild.
He made a low growling noise and reached for her bottoms. "Take these off," he

said, because he couldn't get to her when she was stroking his penis with such skill.

He shoved his trunks down as she tossed her bottoms to the ground. Moments later,

he braced his hands on her upper thighs as the tip of his erection touched the soft folds of
her body.

His hand circled his shaft as he wet the tip with her juices, rubbing skin against skin,

teasing them both with the nearness of entry. Her breathing had become more rapid, and
so had his.

They were both watching what he was doing, anticipating, waiting, wanting. It was

Shelby who finally couldn't wait any longer. She reached down, and took him in her hand
as she arched her hips. The move thrust the head of his erection inside her, and that was
all it took. He was through with teasing.

His hands moved to her hips as he sank inside her, a sound escaping his throat as he

felt the moist warmth of her surround him. Once he was completely buried inside her, he
stilled.

Then, suddenly, they both moved, kissing each other, even as their bodies began a

slow rhythm. Their tongues touched as their bodies moved, her breasts pressed into his
chest, their arms wrapped tightly around one another.

They kept their lips against one another's, but as the pace quickened and their desire

thickened, they simply breathed together. Urgency rose and her legs wrapped around the
back of his. He buried his face in her neck, soaking in the soft floral scent of her hair as
his body moved with hers.

He could feel her heartbeat, hear her breathing, her sighs, her moans. All fed the

strokes he used, making them longer and deeper, hotter and needier.

Shelby's fingers dug into his shoulders, and he heard her call his name even as she

tensed. It felt like she was about to come. "Are you..."

"Yes," she gasped. "Yes."
He kept moving, mostly because she wasn't. She was clinging, moaning, sighing, but

not moving. He wanted to come as well, but he held back, not wanting to cut her pleasure
short despite the urgency of his body. When he felt she was starting to relax, he gave in to
the need he felt, driving into her, hard, fast. One, two, three times...

He was so on the edge, that was all it took. He exploded, burying his face yet deeper

into her shoulder, as his body shook with his release.

For long moments they simple held one another. The night was still, the silence thick

but for the sound of their breathing. Finally, he leaned back and pushed a strand of hair
from her eyes and smiled. "You're amazing, Shelby."

She smiled softly. "As are you."
"How about a swim?"
She laughed. "That's why I came out here in the first place, believe it or not."
His eyes twinkled. "You up for a skinny dip?"
She grinned. "I'm sitting naked on your poolside table. Do I look up to a skinny dip?"
"I do believe you do." And then he picked her up, still inside her, and started walking

towards the pool. "And more."

Chapter Nine

Shelby could hardly believe she was now in the pool, Corey inside her and most

definitely hard again. Could a guy get hard again that fast?

Corey leaned against the wall and rotated her hips. Uh, yes. Corey, at least, could

indeed get hard again that fast. Her arms clung to his neck as he pressed her downward
on his erection. "Corey, you, uh, are hard again."

He smiled. "So glad you noticed. Hope you don't mind."
Her lashes fluttered as he hit a particularly sweet spot. "I ... don't ... oh, that's good."
"Kiss me," he whispered, pushing his wet hand into her hair. She lowered her mouth,

eager to taste him, when suddenly the lights in the pool went out.

Neither moved.
They both knew the lights didn't go out on their own. They also knew neither Mike

nor Dale would have turned them out.

After long moments Corey shifted slightly. "Damn," Corey whispered, sliding her off

his lap, and taking her hand in his. "Come on."

The air was thick with hatred. Shelby had felt it before, in other situations. It made

itself known in the nasty way it lurked in the air, almost as if it had a life of its own. She
wondered if Corey felt it and squeezed his hand to get his attention.

He surprised her when he leaned down by her ear, never giving her a chance to

speak. "I know," he said simply, in a barely audible voice.

When they were about to step out of the pool, she inwardly cringed at the thought of

stepping out of the water naked. Whoever was there, waiting and watching, wasn't likely
to be there to see her naked body. Still, knowing someone was there made her uneasy.
No, worse. Downright edgy.

Corey seemed to understand as he maneuvered her to his opposite side near the

fence, where his body would partially shield hers. They couldn't get to their clothes quick
enough. If only she had a towel within reach. But she didn't. She had left if at the other
side of the pool where she had been sitting when Corey had first arrived.

Water dripped from her body as she struggled to get her swimsuit back in place.

Corey did the same, but with less effort. They both eyed the surrounding area, wordless,
tense and quick about their movements.

A branch snapped.
Corey and Shelby went still. After a long moment, Corey's hand extended towards

her. She accepted it as their eyes locked. He leaned down near her ear. "I say we're sitting
ducks here."

She agreed. In a low whisper, she said, "The faster we get inside the house, the better

I'll feel."

Hand in hand, they moved through the night, the only movement outside of their

own was a light breeze. Once they were to the house, Corey pulled open the backdoor.

Instantly, voices touched their ears.
A female voice. A male voice. Raised tones.

Corey and Shelby looked at one another, both sharing a silent question. Who was

arguing with whom?

Moments later, the sounds led them to the kitchen where Mike and Marcie stood in a

face-to-face confrontation.

Marcie was saying something in Spanish, angry words, hands on her hips. Mike

didn't like it. "Speak English."

"Why?" she demanded. "You don't understand that language either."
"What's going on here?" Corey asked from where they stood in the doorway.
Both Mike and Marcie looked up at him. Mike let his gaze take in Corey's and

Shelby's wet, scantily clad forms. His brow inched up, but he responded to Marcie's
accusation as if he hadn't noticed. Yet, Shelby knew he wanted to make a comment,
probably one she wouldn't like, but he held it in check. "I found her sneaking around the
kitchen."

Fists clenched in balls at her sides, Marcie made a face of disbelief, never seeming to

notice the state of Corey and Shelby's attire, or rather lack of, and then replied
indignantly, "I did not sneak! I work here. You, I don't know! You could be an intruder."

"I explained who I am. Now explain why you are here unannounced."
Corey glanced at the clock above the stove. "It's late, Marcie." There was a question

to his voice, but no accusation.

"You're questioning me?" she asked Corey as if in disbelief.
"No." He hesitated. "Yes." He let out a frustrated breath, and ran his hand through

his damp hair.

Shelby decided to rescue him. "He's worried about you being here so late. With all

these strange things going on, you could get hurt being out and about at night."

Marcie looked at Corey as if for confirmation. "Exactly. After the whole kitchen

incident we don't want to take any chances."

Marcie stared at him for a long moment and then nodded. "I understand." Corey

squeezed Shelby's hand offering a silent thank you. "Mama forgot her medicine and I told
her I would come and get it." Marcie looked at Mike. "He treated me like some sort of
criminal."

Shelby exchanged a look with Mike and silently told him to keep quiet. He was

irritated, so she thought it best she respond. "Mike just wants to keep everyone safe."

Mike as usual, despite his frustration level, read Shelby's silent message and

responded accordingly. "Exactly. Why don't I walk you to your car?"

"Good idea," Shelby agreed, "but could I talk to you in the hall first?"
Mike gave her a quick nod of agreement. Shelby looked at Corey. "I'll be just a

second."

He tugged on her hand and pulled her close, sticking his nose in her neck. His voice

was a soft whisper for only her ears. "I'll get you some clothes."

She blushed even though no one else could hear his words. There was something

very intimate about the way he had spoken, and in the open way he displayed their
relationship. Neither Mike nor Marcie needed a show. They both knew she was
undercover. That meant his actions were his own.

"Thanks," she whispered, and then pressed her hands gently onto his shoulders to

move away. She didn't look at him, afraid he would see just how much he was affecting
her.

Quickly, she turned towards the door, knowing Mike would follow. When she turned

to look at him, he had crossed his arms in front of his body. His eyes had that big brother
disapproval in them. "I didn't know this assignment required such deep undercover
work."

She grimaced, crossing her own arms across her body, but for warmth. She was

standing under a vent and cool air was making goose bumps form on her arms. "You
need to know what happened in the pool."

His jaw flexed. "I can use my imagination and I have to tell you Shelby, I don't think

you're using good judgment."

Shelby balled her fists and jabbed them in her sides as the heat of irritation took

away the chill of the air conditioner. "I was referring to whoever snuck up on us and
turned out the pool lights." She shivered, but she wasn't sure it was from being cold. The
thought of being watched gave her the creeps. "Someone was watching us."

Mike looked towards the kitchen door and then back at Shelby. "You think it was

her?"

Shelby shook her head. "I got a feeling from this person. Anger." She thought a

minute. "No. Not her. This person is much darker than her. I'd sense this in her."

Mike knew her instincts were strong. "Then we better get Dale's butt out of bed and

do a thorough search."

Shelby sighed. "We won't find anything. This person is too smart for that."
"We have to try."
She sighed with resignation. "I know."

* * * *

Something brushed her temple.
Her eyes slowly lifted, but she didn't move.
"Morning," came that deep voice she was beginning to find more than a little

appealing.

Corey.
She'd spent the night in his room. It had taken hours for Mike and Dale to decide the

house was safe. After a detailed search, they hadn't found anything worth finding.

When it was all said and done and it was time for bed, she and Corey had taken the

steps towards the bedrooms together. And he hadn't hesitated as he pulled her along with
him.

To his room.
He was on his side, facing her, elbow under his head to support his weight.
She touched his jaw where a dark, sinfully appealing one-day beard had developed.

"Morning."

"Ready to go see Texas?" he asked, moving his hand to her bare stomach and

flattening it there.

She crinkled her nose. "It's hot in Texas."
"It's hot in New York."
"Not as hot as in Texas."
He laughed. "Ever lived anywhere cold?"

"Of course. Born and raised in the great city of Manhattan. My dad worked for

NYPD for twenty-five years."

"Ah," he said, "now I get the whole security thing."
Shelby turned on her side to face him, tucking the sheet demurely around her bare

breasts and body. He smiled, but didn't say anything. Instead, he settled his hand on her
hip. "Mom didn't like the whole idea. She was afraid I would get hurt. From dancer to
security seemed a stretch to her, but she had no idea what being on the road with a big
named star was like or how involved with security I was."

He seemed to hesitate. His voice lowered a notch. "You keep talking in past tense."
Shelby tried to hide the flash of pain that still twisted her in knots at unexpected

times. It outright ripped her in two when she acknowledged the subject. "They died," she
whispered and stared at his chest.

His hand ran down her hair, gently stroking. "I'm sorry. Recent, I assume?"
"Yes, a car accident." She looked up at him, tormented emotions in her eyes. Trying

to hide them was an impossible task she wasn't sure she was even capable of undertaking.
So she didn't try.

He kissed her forehead. "That's rough. No. That's brutal. I thought losing my Mom to

cancer last year was bad, but it doesn't compare. I had warning, time to prepare and
accept."

Her hand went to his, drawing it to her lips. "I'm sorry for you, too. Is your Dad still

living?"

"He died when I was an infant. My Mom was all I had."
She saw the flash of pain in his eyes and understood all too well. She squeezed his

hand. "It's just me and my sister now." Shelby laughed roughly. "Which isn't saying a lot.
My sister is like a child in an adult body. She stays in some kind of crap all the time."

"This is what Dan was talking about when he said you needed this job. He wouldn't

tell me anything, you know? The most detail I got was your sister needed and you
provided." Corey grinned. "I asked several times. He told me to ask you."

Shelby laughed. "He pretty much told me the same about you. Funny we both tried,

though."

Corey nodded. "No doubt he knew we would. So ... will you tell me about your

sister?"

Shelby sighed. "To make a long story short, it amounts to a no-good gambling

husband, a lot of debt, and some bad guys trying to collect."

Corey's body stiffened, his expression turning grim. "Listen to me, Shelby. I've

known some guys who got in trouble the same way. Those guys don't play. How deep is
she into them?"

"I know they're bad," she said firmly. "Believe me, I know."
Urgency rose in his tone. "Why do you know?"
"Corey, please, drop this. I have things handled." He was shaking his head, already

refusing to drop the subject and she felt a strange, confusing emotion begin to tighten her
chest. Defense mechanisms kicked in of their own will. What she didn't understand had
always freaked her out.

She started to push away from him, but he held her in place. "No, Shelby. We need

to talk about this."

Her eyes went wide with disbelief. "We don't need to talk about anything. Why are

you making such a big deal about something that doesn't even involve you?"

His jaw visibly clenched. Before she realized what he was doing, he flipped her on

her back, pinning her with his body, resting his arms on either side of her head. "Get this
straight. Like it or not, I'm involved."

She glared at him, struggling uselessly beneath his weight. "You're not."
"Do you deny there is something going on between the two of us?"
"That's not the point!"
"It is the point."
"We just met."
"But this is more than we both bargained for, agreed?"
She blew hair from her eyes. "You can say that again."
"Always a smart ass. Good thing I don't mind."
"Let me up, Corey."
He kissed her. No warning. No hesitation. His mouth covered hers, tongue dipping

between her teeth. It was the kind of kiss that curled a girl's toes and made her beg for
more.

When he finally came up for air, he whispered, lips lingering just above hers, "What

we have is unique. We're involved, planned or not, and we can't go back. Admit it."

Her chest heaved slightly, emotions pressing against her ribcage, desire already

turning to dampness between her legs. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes."

"Then let me help."
She closed her eyes a long moment. Accepting help meant opening her heart to

potential pain. But how could she walk away from Corey? From what might be, and
never know?

"Shelby?"
Her eyes opened and locked with his. "Define help."
He smiled, and then leaned down and kissed her temple. "Everything and anything

you need to get this solved."

Despite her need for independence, his help was comforting and far more appealing

than she ever would admit out loud. "That's more than help."

"Is that a problem? I want to do this." His eyes were searching hers as if he was

trying to see deep into her inner workings.

She hesitated only a split second before smiling. How could she say no? He wouldn't

accept it anyway and besides, there were better things to do besides argue. "Okay, you
can help. Now kiss me."

* * * *

Shelby laughed. She'd been laughing for hours.
Sitting next to Corey on the plane ride to Texas felt strangely normal, as if she

belonged by his side. Comfortable, in fact. They had talked the entire trip, on subjects
ranging from serious to comical.

Shelby slanted him a questioning look. "I still can't believe you were a horrible

pitcher until your senior year in high school."

He grinned. "Believe it. I was bad. Actually, I didn't even play High School ball until

my junior year. It's a miracle I was on the team at all. They unglued my ass from the
bench during desperate moments only."

"Why didn't you play the whole four years?"
"I didn't feel good enough to try out. I never played little league like lots of kids. It

was just my Mom and she didn't have the money to do those things. And I was a small
kid. I got teased a lot and it had really messed with my head. My confidence was pretty
low."

Shelby snorted. "Hard to believe."
He winked, then leaned over and kissed her temple. "Look who's talking."
She had to laugh at that, because she knew she put on as big a show as he did in that

department. "What'd they call you? Pansy Ass?"

He held up a hand stop-sign fashion. "I was never, I repeat, never, a Pansy Ass."
She gave him a measuring look. "What exactly qualifies as a Pansy Ass?"
His response was quick, without thought. Clearly he knew his reasons for choosing

the nickname he had assigned. "Anyone who won't listen to instruction even when they
are for that person's own good, thinks they know it all, and can't say what they have to
say to your face, aka the Rookie."

Shelby nodded. "I can see those things in him. He's very jealous of you."
His eyes narrowed. "Why do you say that?"
She knew the answer, though until he asked the question, she had never really

thought about it. "I see it in his eyes."

Corey's lips thinned. "When he first came on board, I tried to take him under my

wing, but he wouldn't have it. He pushed and pushed until I threw my hands up in the air.
If he keeps bucking the system, he'll go back to the farm team."

"Bucking how?"
Corey held up a finger. "Example," he said. "The catcher knows all the batters,

studies them before the game. He knows what the pitcher needs to throw. But Rookie
doesn't listen. Brad tells him to throw a curve ball, he throws a fast ball. It doesn't work
that way."

"I can't say I completely understand, not the part about the catcher and the pitcher,

and curve balls and stuff. What I do know is you tried to help." She hugged his arm.
"What else could you have done? He's rejected your help. You can lead a horse to water,
but you can't make him drink."

He studied her with a strange expression on his face. "What?" she asked.
He kissed her head and then rubbed his cheek against her hair. "Just you, that's all."
She moved to look at him. "What about me?"
He smiled softly. His fingers brushed her cheek. "I could get used to you, that's all."
She stared at him. What was going on here between them? It felt ... she didn't know

... or maybe she did and was afraid to name it. The very fact that she had allowed him to
wire the remainder of her sister's debt to Bev had been an act of trust.

Staring into his eyes now, she wondered if he knew just what it took for her to take

help from anyone. Corey had handled it so gently. She actually didn't feel he would hold
it over her head even if they parted ways that very day.

He trusted her to be good for the money, and she trusted him enough to know he

wouldn't use it as ammunition in their relationship. Bobby would have.

Chapter Ten

Corey was pleased with how the first two games of the Texas series had gone. He'd

pitched two shut-outs and the team had won both games. Adding to the positive, there
had been zero threats, letters, or trouble of any sort.

It was almost a little eerie. Was it over or did the next incident lurk just out of reach,

ready to strike at any moment?

There was a point where he thought the threats had been nothing, but when Shelby

had been locked in that bathroom, everything had changed. Underestimating a threat
against himself was one thing, but it was quite another when it was against Shelby.

And in truth, he knew he should have been more concerned about his teammates

safety from the get-go, and accepted extra security without argument. He just hadn't
thought there really was an issue.

Despite the lack of further threats, something niggled in his gut. Most importantly,

he wanted to ensure Shelby wasn't in danger.

Now, standing in the locker room, preparing for the third game of the series, he had

to force himself to push aside his thoughts. He needed to focus on the game.

But it was damn hard.
Shelby, and anything concerning her, was quickly becoming as important to him as

breathing.

Which was crazy. He hardly knew her.
Yet, waking up next to Shelby had been like a breath of fresh air. She was like new

life being pumped through his blood. Everything about her just did it for him. Each little
habit he picked up on only seemed to ignite his attraction.

A smile tipped up the corners of his mouth. He loved her little morning coffee in bed

ritual, which came after the morning lovemaking ritual.

Damn, the woman was getting to him.
She seemed to really like him, not Corey the ballplayer. Corey the man. He loved it,

but it also scared the hell out of him. What if he was wrong? He'd almost told her he was
thinking of retiring and moving into the coaching end of things. But something made him
hold back.

Maybe he was afraid to find out she wouldn't want him if he wasn't a ballplayer.
He shook his head. It was time to think baseball. Slamming the locker shut, he

moved mentally towards his pitcher's zone, his place of focus; the place that had always
excluded everything and everyone.

But even so, knowing Shelby was on the sidelines, watching and waiting for him put

a little extra energy in his steps as he turned to make his walk to the field.

* * * *

Game five in the Texas series proved problematic.
It started with Corey trying to field a ball that took a bad hop, and injuring his

pitching hand.

Shelby had cringed as she watched him calmly remove himself from the mound,

unable to throw another pitch. Once he had been examined and returned to the dugout, he
had sent her a reassuring look.

Oddly, he didn't seem upset in the slightest. Still, Shelby was worried. Heather sat on

one side of her, Libby on the other. Shelby leaned over and whispered into Heather's ear.
"Can't you find out how bad it is?"

Heather looked at her. "Coach gets mad if I ask questions during the game. He'll be

fine," she said, eyeing the field, then motioning with a small nod of her head towards the
field. "This should be interesting."

The Rookie was walking onto the field. Shelby slanted Heather a questioning look.

"He's good, right?"

"He doesn't listen to Brad," Libby explained with a snide tone. "They fight every

time he pitches. It won't be good."

Heather and Shelby exchanged a knowing look. Neither liked Libby's negative input.

Even if it was true, her delivery was irritating.

Heather pursed her lips. "I don't care how good you are, following Corey's recent

record is tough."

Shelby's cell phone rang. Eyes still on the field, mind on Corey, she absentmindedly

pulled it from her purse, and punched the send button. "Hello."

Silence.
"Hello."
Silence.
A sick feeling curled in her stomach. This wasn't about Carrie. Corey had paid off

that debt. Realization came with a swift jolt. The calls were never about Carrie. It was
Corey's stalker.

Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she hit the end button as discreetly as her

now shaking hand allowed. She was glad to find Heather and Libby watching the game,
not her. No telling what her facial expression held.

Trying to refocus on the game because she had no real option, she watched the

Rookie pitch to his first batter. She bit her bottom lip as her mind raced, trying to watch
the game, even as she thought about the phone call. As usual the call screen had said
unknown caller.

Several pitches later, the ball was in the outfield, a player on base, and Shelby didn't

even know what had happened. She had been too distracted by her thoughts.

But her full attention was quickly drawn to the field. Brad moved like lightning,

racing across the field to the mount. A shouting match between him and the Rookie was
in progress.

Shelby sighed heavily. Next to her, Heather said, "I second that. This is going to be a

long, eventful game."

Silently, Shelby added an exclamation mark as she scanned her surroundings. She

had a strange feeling she was being watched. A creepy, make-your-skin-crawl kind of
feeling.

The game was most definitely going to be way too long.

* * * *

Shelby was more than ready to leave the ballpark.
Not only was the game long, the activity after the game drew out into what felt like

an eternity. Fans wanting autographs and reporters eager to talk to Corey about his hand
seemed to turn into hours of waiting for Shelby.

Standing in the clubhouse, she watched a television monitor displaying Corey being

interviewed live in the locker room.

Surely this was the last thing he had to do before they could leave. She had barely

completed that thought when her mouth dropped open. As she watched Corey, she could
see Brad and the Rookie begin a heated conversation behind him.

In full view of the camera.
This couldn't be good. Dropping her forehead into her hand, she murmured, "What

next?"

Heather moved to stand beside her. "Oh, well crap. Talk about bad press."
"Ah, yeah," Shelby said. "They are practically performing live for the camera." She

glanced back at the image on the screen, seeing it get more dismal by the moment. The
Rookie had shoved Brad.

"Damn," Heather mumbled.
A scurry of players followed and the camera moved away from the action.
"Damn," Heather mumbled again as she sank into a chair.
Shelby sat down next to her. She didn't even know what to say. Even if she had, she

was too tired to get the words out.

It couldn't have been half an hour later when a security person came and got Heather.

Heather frowned and looked at Shelby. "This can't be good."

It took restraint to wait until Heather was gone to reach for her cell and dial Mike.

The instant she was out of sight, Shelby had him on the line. He didn't bother with hello.
"We have a problem."

"What?" Shelby asked anxiously. Silent, saying a little prayer that Corey was okay.
"While that little locker brawl was going on, Corey's bag got knocked over."
He paused too long. "And?" Shelby demanded.
"Drugs. They spilled on the floor. Thank God the camera was off. It was a plant, no

doubt about it. I've been around the track too many times. Corey Evans does not do
drugs."

Not for a minute did Shelby believe Corey did drugs. She glanced at the television.

"I can't believe it's not on the news yet, camera or not."

"Corey knew the reporter. He gave her an exclusive if she would hold off until

tomorrow. They just finished testing him."

Shelby's eyes shut. Poor Corey. "As in drug testing." It wasn't a question. She knew

the answer.

"Yep," Mike said in the midst of a heavy sigh. "Wasn't one bit pretty either. He's hot,

let me tell you. Threatened to quit the team. I think he meant it."

* * * *

The clubhouse was a ghost town. Press had been cleared, visitors had come and gone

and most of the players had left, but still Shelby waited.

Finally, Corey stepped out of the locker room with Brad by his side. Mike and Dale

followed on his heels. Corey's jaw was clenched, his body rigid. She glanced at his
bandaged hand before letting her gaze travel upward.

Their eyes locked midair.
What she saw as she looked into his eyes, she didn't understand. He was distant,

maybe even angry.

At her?
She swallowed. This was some sort of wall, easy to recognize because it was

familiar. The same kind she put up when she felt she was about to be rejected. She didn't
know why he was feeling as if he needed to shield himself from her, but he did.

She knew it.
Still, her own private defense mechanisms made her want to recoil or fight. Getting

mad at him would be easy. After all, she'd been waiting for hours, worried, eager to
comfort and support. The least he could do is act happy to see her.

Yes, it would be sooo easy to just go with his foul mood and match it or even push it

up a notch.

Inwardly she conceded, knowing what she had to do. This was Corey and she'd

already given so much of herself to him. She couldn't pull back now. Why not continue
on the path she had started down? It was too late to avoid heartbreak if he turned away
from her.

Decision made, she stepped forward, determined to close the distance between them

both physically and emotionally. Before she could get within touching distance, the doors
opened behind him.

A female voice spouted a demand. "Wait just one minute."
Both Corey and Brad visibly cringed as they stopped dead in their tracks. It was the

public relations lady from the party. Without turning, Corey said, "I've had enough for
one night, Tina."

Tina.
Shelby had known only one other Tina in her life and she hadn't liked her. This one

was no different. The other one had been a prissy blond cheerleader who had taken jabs
at Shelby every chance she got.

Tina was cut from the same mold. Everything was about the superficial. Her very

demeanor, arrogant and snotty, said she thought she was better than everyone around her.
Even her clothing screamed excess. Dressed in a designer label from head to toe, her
pinstriped pants and silk blouse looked like they had cost a small fortune.

Tina pursed her lips. "You're the last person who should be complaining." A smug

look of satisfaction slipped onto those painted lips. Shelby was glad Corey's back was
turned. Seeing Tina's higher-than-thou look would only have served to heighten the
impact of her words.

It was Brad who turned first. "Lay off, Tina. Enough is enough."
Corey turned as well, resignation in his face. "What is it, Tina?"
She pointed a pink manicured fingernail at him. "No talking to the press. I don't care

who you promised what. No talking. Not unless you want that suspension to become
permanent."

Shelby stepped beside Corey. His tension was so heavy it was like an electric current

radiating from him. He clenched his good hand by his side as if he was trying to hold the
frustrations of the day in his palm.

To Tina he said, "The only reason this isn't already all over the papers is because I

promised an exclusive to KNVU. I have to honor my word."

"You," she said sharply, "have to do what is best for the team. And letting me be the

voice of the team is what's best."

Brad let out a bark of laughter. "What a joke. You don't know the first thing about

what's right for this team. Stick to nail polish and parties and let us handle the business of
baseball."

"I have to do that interview," Corey bit out. "Correction. I'm going to do it."
"Then it'll be your last," Tina retorted with a flip of her blond hair. Then she turned

her baby blues on Brad. "Push your luck, and you can join him."

Brad pulled his phone from his pocket. "Why don't we just call the coach and find

out how he feels about losing two of his star players?"

"Let your fingers do all the dialing they want. The coach doesn't own the team.

You'd do well to remember that."

Shelby had to do something. "Tempers are high. It's been a rough night. Why don't

we leave this for morning?"

Tina looked at Shelby. "And you'd be who?"
Corey put his arm around Shelby. "Off limits for your claws."
Shelby didn't need protection though she appreciated his efforts considering his

mood. Her response to Tina came without hesitation. "Someone who has the common
sense to know when to leave things be. Tonight is not the time to push Corey."

Tina looked at Corey. "I see your new woman is wrapped around your finger just

like all the rest. Wonder how she'll feel if you aren't playing ball?"

Brad interjected before Corey could, but not before Shelby felt Corey's body tense.

"Everyone isn't as shallow as you are, Tina. You're just bitter because Corey saw you as
the gold digging bitch you are and dumped your ass."

Shelby's jaw dropped at the harsh words, but Tina didn't so much as blink. "And

you're different right, sweetie," Tina said to Shelby, and then snorted as she slanted Corey
a knowing look. "We'll see. Won't we Corey?"

Corey's tone was low and about as cold as a blizzard. "Enough, Tina."
An evil smile tilted up Tina's lips. "That's not what you used to say." Then she

laughed. "But, okay," she paused for a split second, "for now." She wiggled a finger at
him. "Call you tomorrow, Corey. Don't do anything I wouldn't before then."

She turned with another flip of that hair of hers and started a cocky little strut across

the room. Shelby watched her leave, not looking at Corey until she was out of sight.

Knowing he had dated Tina explained a lot about why he was so guarded. If this was

the type of woman he had encountered, Bobby looked like an angel in her past.

Her hand went to his chest as she tilted her chin up to get a better view of his

expression. "Corey?"

He didn't say anything for a long moment. Then suddenly his arms dropped from

around her. "I'm tired. Let's get to the hotel."

Wow. What just happened? The distance between them had just become miles, not

inches.

"Corey?"
He didn't look at her, but she could feel everyone else looking at her. Now what? She

was in an awkward position and she found his blatant coldness becoming more and more
painful by the second.

She swallowed. "Fine," she said quietly, a lump lodged in her throat. "Let's go."
He took a step the instant she said the words as if it was the only invitation he

needed. She didn't move immediately, watching Mike and Dale follow in Corey's
footsteps.

Brad stopped beside her. She didn't know him well, but something about him spelled

honest to her. It was a sense she got from him. No doubt in her mind, he was a true friend
to Corey.

"It's been a rough night. He'll come around."
Shelby looked him directly in the eye. "I don't deserve this."
Brad sighed. "I know," he said without hesitation. "And neither does Corey. He's just

confused right now."

Shelby nodded. "I know, and I am too."
He gave her a knowing look. "But you care about him."
"Yes," she whispered.
"Then don't give up on him." He paused and then grinned. "And don't let him get

away with what he just did."

Shelby's eyes narrowed, but Brad clearly didn't intend to say more. He simply

winked and motioned for her to walk.

Chapter Eleven

Corey needed space.
Space to think. Space to yell. Space to figure out what the hell was going on in his

life.

Shelby hadn't said a word to him since they had left the ballpark. He hated that.

Worse, he hated how much he hated it. He didn't want to need her.

He felt torn and more than a little confused.
Part of him wanted her to know how much he needed her reassurances, how much he

needed to hear the right things. The other part of him wanted her to get the hell away
from him before he got hurt any further.

The minute he opened the hotel door, he stepped inside, rather than waiting for her to

enter. Walking to the window, he gave her his back, staring out into the darkness,
wishing for answers he wouldn't find there.

He felt her walk into the room behind him, heard the door close, knew when she

leaned against the wall and watched him.

Still, he didn't turn.
God, if she would just walk up and put her arms around him.
But she didn't move.
Maybe she didn't like the idea of him not playing ball. Maybe she was just like Tina

and the others. He squeezed his eyes shut, hating where his thoughts were taking him.

Not Shelby. He didn't want her to be like the others.
Damn it hurt to even think she was like them.
Hurt so bad, he couldn't stand still a moment longer. With an abrupt turn, he moved

across the room and headed towards the bathroom. Stepping inside, he shoved the door
shut, blocking Shelby from his sight, but not his mind.

Leaning against the door, he exhaled.
His life was hell.
How in the hell had those drugs gotten in his bag? Yes, he was ready to retire. But

not like this. He wanted to coach. This would ruin him.

And how in the hell had he managed to let Shelby Allen tear down his defenses?
He had thought she was different. Hell, he even thought she didn't like athletes. But

now, he wasn't so sure. Enduring the truth would be so much easier if he had never fallen
for her.

* * * *

Shelby stared at the bathroom door with complete disbelief. For Corey to dismiss her

as nothing more than a bimbo with a self-serving agenda hurt.

And that's what he had done.
It was in his eyes. And it hurt. It hurt bad.
Part of her wanted to go beat on the door and force him to come out and talk to her.

To have it out with him, even if it meant a knock-down, drag-out argument.

Another part of her simply wanted to leave, to get the heck out of the room and his

life. But that wasn't possible. She still had a job to do and Corey needed her from that
standpoint, now more than ever.

The phone calls, the drugs ... they were related, she just knew it. Whoever was

bothering Corey not only wasn't gone, they seemed hell bent on causing him some pretty
serious trouble.

So if she wasn't going to pound on the door, and she wasn't going to leave...
Well, at least not completely.
She grabbed her purse from the floor by the door and pulled out her cell phone. She

dialed Mike as she headed towards the closet. At least for the night, she was staying in
another room.

Corey obviously needed space from her.
She'd give it to him.
On the other hand, she wasn't about to leave him alone. Not with the certainty that he

was in some sort of danger.

Mike answered in two rings. "I need you to keep an eye on Corey for me."

* * * *

Corey stepped out of the bathroom to find the room dark. That stopped him in his

tracks. He wasn't even sure how to respond. The last thing he had expected Shelby to do
was go to bed.

She wasn't one to lie down, literally or figuratively, in the face of a challenge.
Then again, it was late and it had been a long day.
He sighed in defeat. Nothing was going his way. Whatever reaction he had hoped to

get from her, this wasn't it.

Gingerly, he made his way to the bed and sat down on the edge. He couldn't let

things go on like this. They needed to talk.

"Shelby?"
Nothing.
She was pissed. He really couldn't blame her. He'd been pretty rough on her and he

knew it. Needing to see her face so he could better understand her feelings, he reached for
the light.

Flipping it on, he turned to find the bed empty.
His eyes squeezed shut. She had given him what he had asked for with his actions.

Distance. But it wasn't what he really wanted.

Why couldn't she see that? He made a frustrated sound.
Or maybe she didn't care. Not now that his career was on the line. The more his mind

raced, the madder he got. He could almost feel his blood boiling. This wasn't happening.
Not like this.

If Shelby was just like all the others, he needed to know. Tomorrow they were going

back home and he'd be damned if she was staying under his roof, undercover or not, if
she was a user.

Knowing he wasn't acting in his normal manner, but not caring, he dressed, pulling a

t-shirt over his head and shoving his legs into a pair of jeans. In his eagerness to confront
Shelby, he almost walked out of the room with no shoes on his feet.

Cursing, he found his boots and made quick work of getting them laced. By the time

he opened the hotel door and stepped into the hallway, he was way past impatient.

And stopped dead in his tracks as he came face to face with Mike.
Mike gave him an expectant look. "Going somewhere?"
Corey's brows dipped. He didn't need this right now. "What are you doing here?"
"My job," Mike said simply.
"Holding up the wall outside my room is your job?" Corey asked shortly and then

held up his hand stop-sign fashion. "Never mind, don't answer. Just tell me where Shelby
is."

Mike looked at him through heavy lids, his expression unreadable, his jaw firm.

When he didn't answer immediately, Corey's impatience flared. "Where's Shelby?"

Mike smiled as if he thought Corey's mood was entertaining. "My room. Number

303."

Corey started walking. Mike called from behind him. "I'll stay in Dale's room."
Corey raised a hand in thanks without turning. As soon as he found 303, he knocked

hard and loud. He had just cocked his wrist to start a second round of knocking, when the
door opened.

Shelby stood there, still fully dressed, looking shocked at his presence and far from

pleased. A muscle in his jaw jumped. "We need to talk."

Her hand held the door in a half-open position as if she might shut it at any moment.

"We needed to talk two hours ago. Now we need to go to bed."

Moving with athletic agility he stepped forward, maneuvered her back into the room,

and kicked the door shut. "I thought we'd talk first, but whatever you want."

"Core..." He cut her off with his mouth, pulling her close as his hands slid up her

back. Her hands pressed into his shoulders as she tried to pull away, but he was
determined ... to once again get her submission.

He was crazy about this woman and damn it, crazy to push her away. His tongue

touched hers more fervently, determination in his strokes.

Slowly, he felt the sweet bliss of success, as the tension in her body eased muscle by

muscle. Sinking into him as her tongue flickered against his, she moaned with the impact
of his touch. Deepening the kiss, he took advantage of her submission, pressing her to
give him more.

Together they clung, pressing their bodies against each other as if they couldn't get

close enough. Long minutes later, Corey rested his forehead against hers.

His hand went to her cheek. "Shelby..."
Her hand covered his. "You treated me like shit."
He had. "I didn't mean to."
"It's not like it was an accident."
He leaned back to look into her eyes. "I was freaked out."
"I was there for you."
"I was afraid you weren't."
"You never gave me a chance."
He stared at her, taken back by their exchange and the truth of her last statement. In a

lower voice, he said, "I know. I'm sorry."

She didn't respond immediately. Her expression was one of confusion, as if she was

a bit tormented by her thoughts. "It's not that I don't accept your apology." She paused,

seeming to contemplate her words. "It doesn't change the fact that you thought I was like
Tina. And ... it hurt."

His heart tightened.
He started to speak, but shut his mouth again. What could he say? She was right. He

had judged her without trust or trial.

"I was unfair. I don't have any excuse except a bad past and a horrible day. Let me

make it up to you." Not giving her time to argue, he bent and scooped her up in his arms.

"What are you doing?" She clung to his neck, surprise etched in her voice.
He walked towards a couch sitting against the closest wall. "Not giving you the

chance to say no."

"What was the question?"
"Give me a chance to make it up to you," he said, as he sat down with her on his lap.
"That's not a question. It's a demand."
The fingers of one of his hands slid into her hair, framing her face as the other held

her waist, pulling her tight against his body. "Like I said, I'm not giving you a chance to
say no."

Her bottom lip trembled. "Don't treat me like that again."
Lowering his mouth towards hers, he said, "I won't."
She pulled back just as he was about to kiss her. "You think I'm like Tina."
"No," he whispered, meaning it. His heart knew better. Why he had been such a fool,

he didn't know. "I don't. And I promise I'll make it up to you."

His lips brushed hers as he hinted at his method of making it up to her. At least for

starters, he would please her body. She accepted the contact, but inched away before he
could claim her mouth fully. "You did think I was like her. What's changed?"

"I remembered you were you." He nipped her lips again, but pulled back before she

could.

"Which means what?" she asked, looking into his eyes, hers heavy with emotion.
The answer was so simple he couldn't believe he had been so blind. "You're

different."

Their lips had slowly inched closer again. Her voice was low. "I am different."
"I know. I won't forget again. Let me make it up to you."
Their lips brushed once, twice. Shelby's hand went to his cheek. "We have to talk

about what different means."

He nipped her bottom lip. "Okay." He tasted her lips.
She sighed. "Later. We can talk later."
Smiling against her lips, he said, "Later. What do you want to do now?"
"You know what I want to do."
"Tell me," he said teasingly. "No more misunderstandings."
She touched her tongue to his. "I want you to do what you said you were going to

do."

He laughed, because he knew what she meant. "What was that?"
Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks for a moment before she fixed him in a direct look.

"Make it up to me."

"My pleasure," he said with a grin. "And yours. I have something in mind that might

just do the trick."

"Yeah?" she asked, biting her bottom lip.

"Yeah, but to get the full impact, I need you to do as I say and don't ask any

questions. Think you can do that?"

He kissed her then, not wanting to give her time to think of reasons to fight what was

between them. Corey knew Shelby instinctively. Getting her to give herself to him was
critical to retaining the closeness they had developed before he had acted like such an ass.
Any distance could allow their walls to grow taller and taller. Maybe beyond reach.

He couldn't let that happen.
Shelby meant too much to him. Holding her now, he knew losing her just wasn't an

option.

Deepening the kiss, she moved to straddle him, pressing her core against his cock,

now hard and ready. It throbbed with an ache Shelby both created and fed with her very
essence. It was everything about her, her smell, her taste, her touch.

His hands went to her hips, pressing her against him, needing to get her closer,

wanting inside her, to feel that ultimate connection.

She evoked feelings so beyond anything he had ever known, well beyond the

physical. She moaned as their tongues tangled, intimately sliding together, urgently
tasting, wanting, needing.

His hands slid under her shirt, feeling the soft warmth of her skin as he pushed it up.

"Take this off," he told her.

She didn't hesitate, sitting up to look at him as she pulled it over her head. A black

lace bra as sheer as a wedding veil decorated the swells of her breasts. Her nipples
puckered, drawing his eyes in a hungry stare.

"Very nice," he told her as his eyes lifted to hers.
She tugged at his t-shirt. "Your turn."
He shook his head, making her withdraw her hands as she frowned. "No. Not this

time. I have making up to do, remember?"

Her eyes widened, and then went hot as she reached for his shirt again. "You getting

naked sounds like a damn good way to start."

He gently shackled her wrists. "You'll like what I have in mind. Will you do as I say?

Can you trust me that much, Shelby?"

There was more to his request than the obvious. An underlying meaning danced

between them, lacing the air with its implications.

She looked at him a long moment. "I trust you, Corey."
A slow smile turned up the corners of his lips even as the warmth of her meaning

filled his heart. "Good," he said. His hands gently urged her off his lap. "Stand up then."

She did as he said, but asked, "Why?"
"No questions," he gently reprimanded as he looked up at her. "Take your bra off. I

want to see your beautiful breasts."

Her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly as she reached behind her and opened the

latch to her bra. Slowly, she slid the material down her shoulders and let it fall to the floor
in front of her.

She stood before him, rosy red nipples puckered, full round breasts inviting his

heated gaze. "Just like I said, beautiful. I can't wait to taste your nipples."

She shifted slightly. "Corey..."
He cut her off. "Take the rest of your clothes off."
"What about you?"

"Later. Take your shoes and pants off, Shelby. I thought you were going to trust

me?"

"I am, but..."
Again, he cut off her words. "No buts."
He moved, dropping to his knees in front of her, pressing against her legs. His hands

went to her waist and then slowly slid down her hips.

His eyes met hers as one of his hands went to her boot, unzipped it, and then

removed it. He made quick work of doing the same with the other.

Then he took off her socks.
He wanted all skin, nothing but.
Once again, his hands slid to her hips even as his mouth settled on her stomach.

Gently, he flicked his tongue against the soft flesh of her belly. Her hands went to the
back of his head, her fingers sinking into his hair.

She whispered his name. He answered by feathering kisses on her stomach and

reaching for the button on her jeans. He wanted her free of her clothes. "Take these off,"
he said, as he pulled the zipper down.

She wiggled those lush, round hips and helped him skim the denim down her body.

"No panties," he commented.

"You know I never do." Her voice was passion-filled, husky.
"A fact I find more than a little sexy."
He balanced her as she stepped out of one leg, and then the other. Tossing the pants

aside, he felt the satisfaction of knowing there were no more barriers.

His hands wrapped around her delicate little ankles and slowly slid up the curve of

her calves. Heat flooded his veins, pumping through him as he became more and more
turned on.

She made him hot, hard and ready under lesser circumstances. The fear of losing her

served as an ignition switch, pushing his need up a notch. Deep inside, he felt a
possessiveness, a need to make her his.

A need to make her know she was his.
And that's why he couldn't give into his own desire. Not yet. He needed her to admit

she was his—if not verbally, physically.

He'd know when he had her.
Looking up at her, he leaned forward and blew lightly on the soft curls between her

legs. She sucked in a breath and her hands moved to his shoulders.

"Corey." It was a hoarse whisper, nothing more.
His groin tightened in response. He loved how she said his name when she was

turned on. It was like an absolute high, a rush of pure passion.

Still watching her, his tongue flickered against her clit and he felt her fingers dig into

his shoulders. Her tongue slid across her bottom lip, pure anticipation in her body and
expression.

The tip of his tongue rolling around her clit evoked a soft moan from her lips. Her

eyes fluttered shut as he sucked the now-swollen nub into his mouth, gently teasing and
suckling.

"Oh." Her knees buckled slightly. He wrapped his arms around her upper thighs,

giving her the added support she needed.

Her hands went into his hair and he used his tongue to tease the outer folds of her

sensitive flesh. She was wet, urgent, hips bucking.

He couldn't get enough of her. Driving her crazy like this was exactly what he

wanted. It pressed him over the edge, made his tongue dip into her core, tasting, teasing,
needing more.

Wanting her to come.
Tasting how close she was.
Dipping his fingers inside her.
Stroking her inner walls.
And suckling until she shook and moaned and all but fell down. He had to hold her

up as she came, but he never stopped licking and tasting, and pressing her to complete
satisfaction.

When she practically collapsed on top of him he picked her up. She rested her head

on his shoulder and let out a sigh.

His mind battled with his raging body. He wanted her, but to satisfy her in an

unselfish way was appealing. Showing her how much her needs meant to him felt right.

He carried her to the bed and gently sat her down on the mattress. Stepping back, not

touching her because he didn't trust himself, he simply looked at her.

Leaning up so that she rested her weight on her palms, breasts thrust invitingly in the

air, nipples tight, she stared at him. "I want you, Corey."

Her hand went out to him. A low growl escaped his throat as his resistance turned

into human need. Reaching for his shirt, he pulled it over his head.

She dropped her hand back behind her back. "Now the rest."
He didn't argue. His clothes disappeared in seconds leaving him standing before her

completely naked. He watched as her eyes dropped to his arousal. His hand wrapped its
width. "Obviously, I want you too."

"Prove it."
His brow inched up as he looked down and then back up as his hand stroked his

length. "Sweetheart, if this isn't proof I don't know what is."

She wiggled a finger at him. "I need to feel for myself to be certain."
He laughed, but it wasn't with humor. It was just so impossible to believe any one

woman could make a man so crazy. Yet Shelby did drive him absolutely crazy.

"Come here, Corey," Her voice was firmer this time.
He stepped forward, hands dropping to his sides. She moved at the same time,

coming to her knees in front of him. Before he had time to think, her hand slid around the
base of his shaft and slowly slid up his length.

Her eyes were fixed on the object of her attention giving him a sexy visual of her

long locks draped over her bare shoulders. The image, on top of the gentle glide of her
fingers on his dick, had him fighting for control.

His body was screaming to get inside her. He could just imagine how wet she'd be.

Dripping and ready and open for him.

"Shelby."
Her hand dropped. She leaned back and let her knees open. "Come inside and play."
The words tightened his groin and sent a rush of pure heat across his skin. "You're

bad, Shelby Allen."

She closed her legs. "If you can't handle it, then..."

His knees sank into the mattress as his hands pressed her knees back apart. He

brought the tip of his penis close to her, so that it brushed her wetness. Her head fell back
as she sucked in a breath.

One hand on her knee, the other wrapped around his penis, he teased them both,

sliding back and forth against her slick folds. She moved to look him in the eyes.

Staring at one another, the heat that passed between them was almost like the flare of

a match. It spread through his body with a powerful intensity.

Holding her gaze, he dipped the very tip of his erection inside her. Sensations rocked

him, making him want to lunge deep into her core.

But he held back.
Her hand went to his. "Now, Corey. I want you inside me now."
Damn, he loved when she said things like that. But he hated what it did to his

willpower. He couldn't hold back any longer.

Resistance was futile.
His hand pressed her knees further apart as he slid between her legs. Lowering her

back against the bed, he leaned his weight on his elbows and looked into her eyes.

"I want to see your face when I slide inside you."
She bit her bottom lip looking a bit fretful. "Okay," she whispered, "but please do it

now."

He smiled even as he started to slide inside her. "My pleasure."
Her eyes shut. "And mine," she replied hoarsely.
Inch by inch, he forced himself to go slowly as he slid clear to her core. "Look at

me," he said, forcing himself to stay still.

Her lashes fluttered and then opened. God, she was so beautiful. "I am so completely

crazy about you."

She stared at him, her gaze hot, passion filled. "I feel the same about you."
He nibbled her bottom lip. "Great, because we're good. Damn good together."
"I think so too," she said so hoarsely it almost sounded as if she might cry.
He kissed her then, tongue to tongue, an intimate mating that evoked the need to

move, to feel, to get as close to her as possible.

Her hips arched as she met him, stroke for stroke, move for move. He kissed her

neck, her mouth, her jaw. Her hair smelled of sweet flowers and he buried his face in it as
he pressed deeper, harder, more urgently.

"Shelby," he whispered over and over.
Her moans were almost a part of his, their need one. Her hands dug into his

shoulders, her legs wrapping around the back of his. She called out. And then she cried
out.

She was coming and he wanted to join her.
He moved deep inside her, in and out, raising up on his palms and pressing his

hardness into her soft, wet warmth. Her body contracted, squeezing him like a heavenly
vice, pulling the orgasm out of him.

He shuddered with his release, barely able to hold himself up. Her hands moved up

and down his chest as he looked down at her.

"Lay with me," she said.
And so he did.

Chapter Twelve

Shelby sat down on Corey's couch, snuggling close to him. Corey picked up the

remote control from the table and turned on the television, but his attention seemed
elsewhere. His mood had somehow shifted.

Corey had just hung up from a call with Dan. Offering him privacy, though he hadn't

asked for it, she had stashed the remains of their dinner in the fridge while he took the
call. Inwardly, she smiled as she thought of the variety of Chinese dishes Corey had
ordered. Enough for an army. He had wanted her to try all of his favorites.

What was it about the man and Chinese take-out?
Now, they were preparing to watch television, and relax a little before going to bed.
Together.
In the two days since they had returned from Texas, they seemed to get closer and

closer by the minute. And each day she felt more attached to him. In fact, she was pretty
certain she was falling in love with him. The implications of that were hard to swallow.
She lived in another state. He was an athlete who traveled.

And he probably didn't want a commitment.
So she tried to enjoy each moment in case there weren't a lot more.
It was her growing ability to read Corey that told her he was out of sorts. Touching

his jaw, she drew his attention. "Is your hand hurting?"

"No," he said. "Not really."
"So it is?"
He shrugged. "It's expected with a fracture."
Shelby started to get up. "I'll get your medicine."
He held her in place. "No. I don't need it."
Tilting her head to the side, she studied him. "What's wrong?"
Corey looked at the television. "That's what's wrong. Dan called to warn me."
Shelby watched, cringing as Corey's image appeared on the television screen. The

newscaster called him the fallen angel, once considered Mr. Perfect, now tainted by the
lure of drugs.

So unfair. He had passed his drug test and he didn't do drugs.
What could she say? "Oh God, Corey. I'm sorry."
His expression was grim. "It was bound to happen."
An effort at comforting him didn't make a method easier to grasp. "It's just bad

press."

He slanted her a look. "It'll ruin my coaching chances."
What? "Coaching? What are you talking about?"
He eyed her with a look that seemed almost accusatory. "That's right, coaching. I

plan to retire soon."

Her brows dipped. "But you're so young to retire."
"Is it a problem for you I might not play?"
That pissed her off. "What?" She pushed to her feet, and glared at him. "Why would

that be a problem?"

"It sure seems like it." He stood up and faced her. "Why else would you act so

shocked?"

"Because it's the first I've heard of it, Corey. Why are you prosecuting me here? I

thought we got beyond this."

He let out a bitter laugh. "Nope. Apparently not."
He turned and walked towards the window, dashing a hand through his hair.

Standing with his back to her, he had for all practical purposes shut her out.

Her heart tightened and her stomach felt queasy. This was a man she had real

feelings for. And all he felt for her was distrust?

What they shared hadn't been near as real as she had thought.
And it hurt.
She looked at the television as a replay of Brad and the Rookie fighting flashed on

the screen. Her eyes went wide. "Oh my God."

Corey turned and looked at her. "What?"
Shelby could hardly speak she was so shocked. "I... I..." She pointed at the television.

"I think the rookie planted the drugs in your bag."

"What?" he asked incredulously as he took several steps her direction. "Why? What

are you talking about?"

Shelby looked at Corey. "I saw his hand in your bag. It could be innocent, but..."
"But?" he demanded.
A sick feeling grew deep in her gut. "I know it wasn't. Don't ask me how, I just do."
He stared at her, his chest heaving. Then, abruptly, he started walking across the

room.

"Where are you going?" Shelby demanded.
He didn't look back at her. "To confront him."
"What?" Shelby gasped, already walking in his footsteps. "You can't. What if I'm

wrong?" She paused. "No, worse. What if I'm right?"

"I have to know," he said, reaching for the front door.
This wasn't good. "Then I'm coming with you."
"Whatever."
Shelby had to run to get to the car in time. She opened the door as he was putting the

car in drive. "Are you trying to kill me?" she demanded, as she flung herself in the car
and pulled the door shut.

He grunted. Nothing more.
Shelby debated calling Mike and Dale, deciding against it in the end. She didn't want

to make the situation worse than it had to be.

It was fifteen minutes later when Corey pulled his car into the driveway of a small,

rather secluded beachside cottage. He cursed under his breath as they pulled up next to
two other cars and then killed his lights.

Shelby looked at him, darkness hiding his features, offering her only his silhouette.

"What is it?"

"That car," he said, motioning to his left.
Shelby squinted into the darkness. "What about it? I can't really make it out."
"It's Marcie's."
"What?" She couldn't have heard right. "Repeat that."
Voices echoed into the night.

"And that's her voice," he said in a tight voice.
He pushed open his car door before she could respond. "Damn it," she mumbled, as

she fumbled for the door handle.

She stepped out of the car knowing she should take the time to call Mike, but not

doing it. Corey was already walking. She didn't have time to get her phone out of her
purse, which was still in the car, unlike her.

Taking off after him, she barely had time to process what was going on, let alone

devise a plan. Marcie was with the Rookie. It could mean only one thing. They had been
in on all of this.

Images flashed in her mind. The pool, the kitchen, maybe even the phone calls.

Which meant this could be dangerous. She had to stop Corey.

Shelby managed to reach Corey's side but only because he had stopped dead in his

tracks seemingly entranced by whatever he was looking at. Following his gaze, she knew
why.

Marcie and the Rookie stood at the front door, unaware of Corey and Shelby as they

kissed. Shelby blinked a couple times hoping the image would disappear. She was
reaching for Corey's arm when he called out.

"Always knew you were a pansy ass, but I never figured you for slime. Guess I

should have known."

The Rookie moved abruptly, setting Marcie away from him. His eyes moved towards

Corey. "What in the hell?"

Shelby squeezed Corey's arm. "Don't do this. Let's handle this with the authorities."
"You planted those drugs in my bag," Corey called out, his voice laced with

contempt and accusation.

"I'm so sorry, Corey," Marcie yelled.
The Rookie looked at her. "Shut up and get the hell out of here."
She twisted her hands together in front of her and looked at Corey. "But..."
The Rookie shoved her. "I said, get the hell out of here."
"Didn't you?" Corey demanded.
Marcie sobbed and then, "I didn't know about the drugs, Corey, I swear."
"Bitch." The Rookie slapped her, sending her to the ground with the power of his

blow.

"You son of a bitch," Corey bit out, even as he moved. He was grabbing the Rookie

before Shelby even knew he had moved.

Blows were thrown as the two men battled.
Shelby ran to Marcie and squatted by her side. "Are you okay?" she asked urgently.
She whimpered, but nodded her head yes. "Do you have a cell phone?"
She nodded her head again. "Call 911 and then go stand by your car."
Shelby started to stand when Marcie grabbed her arm in a death grip. "Where are you

going?"

Prying Marcie's hands off her arm, Shelby fought her impatience. "I'll be right back.

Just dial."

She hardly had the words out before she took off running. Since the last phone call,

she had taken to carrying her gun in her purse again.

Once she was at the car, she grabbed her gun and her phone. She dialed Mike, even

as she ran back towards Corey. Her instincts screamed trouble. This wasn't going to end
well.

She blurted out details to Mike and hung up without giving him time to say anything.

Corey had just knocked the Rookie off his feet.

Marcie stood next to her car, crying and shaking, arms in front of her body. Shelby

looked her in the eye, willing her to respond. "Did you call the police?"

Sirens echoed in the distance. Question answered. Shelby forgot Marcie that quickly

and refocused on the two men.

"Why?" Corey demanded as he wiped blood from his lip with the back of his hand.
The Rookie pushed himself to his feet. "I hate you. What other reason do I need? As

long as you existed, I couldn't get noticed." He stood, hands behind his back, staring at
Corey.

Bad sign. "Show us your hands," Shelby yelled out.
A mistake. Corey looked in her direction and the Rookie advanced on him, grabbing

him in a bear hug.

Then, everything seemed a blur for several seconds. The two men were locked

together and blood was everywhere. But from where, from whom?

Shelby pointed her gun, but she couldn't get a clear shot. Then they were apart and

the Rookie stood there holding a knife, blood dripping from his hands. Corey dropped to
his knees. Blood streamed down his shoulder.

"Drop the knife or I'll shoot," Shelby yelled out, locking her gun on the Rookie.
He laughed. "Sure," he said dropping the knife. "Too late to save his arm. Bet he'll

never pitch again. At least, if I'm ruined, I'm taking him with me."

"You're a sick, man," Shelby said with contempt and disgust in her voice. "Corey,

are you alright? Talk to me," Shelby said, without taking her eyes off her target.

"I'm ... fine."
His voice was weak. Marcie's came next. "Oh my God, he's bleeding so much.

Shelby, he's bleeding so much."

Shelby wanted to look for herself, but she didn't trust the Rookie enough to let her

guard down. Before she could decide her next action, Mike was beside her. She heard
him call her name even as two police officers pointed guns at the Rookie.

Mike gently eased her weapon from her hands. "It's over."
Shelby turned. "Corey..."
"Is fine," Mike said, motioning towards the emergency personnel surrounding him.

"He's in good hands." His hand rested on her shoulder.

"I need to see him." Abruptly, Shelby started walking towards him. Mike followed,

calling her name.

Standing behind one of the emergency worker's, Shelby called Corey's name.

"Ma'am, you need to stay back."

Shelby never even looked at the man. "Corey?"
She barely got a glimpse of him as two other emergency workers leaned over him.

"Corey?"

The man she had ignored became more insistent. "Ma'am, step back and let us do our

job."

Mike's hand came down on her shoulder again. "Shelby, let them work. Come with

me."

She turned to Mike. "I need to know he's okay."
"He is. His injuries are not life threatening. Let them work."
She needed to hear Corey's voice. The urge to insist was strong. Taking a deep breath

she willed herself to be logical, to calm down.

Finally, she nodded, letting Mike lead her away.

* * * *

Shelby paced the floor of the emergency room. Dan sat in a nearby chair. Worry had

turned her into a nervous wreck. The worst had proven true. Corey's injury had required
surgery. Now, the possibility that he might not ever pitch again lingered.

Though he had mentioned retiring, she knew he wanted it to be on his terms, not

because he was forced into it. And what if he didn't have complete use of his hand? She
knew Corey well enough to know he would deal with it, but only after some major
struggles.

She wanted to be there for him, but would he let her?
Getting his complete trust seemed like climbing Mt. Everest, almost impossible for a

normal human. Once she had thought it would be him earning her trust. Instead, he had
much deeper wounds than she did.

Her mind went back to their conversation just before he had taken off to confront the

Rookie. He had all but accused her of being as shallow as Tina again.

When that newscast had come on, he had been ready and willing to try and convict

her. Just as he had done in Texas, even though he had promised not to do so again.

If only that wasn't still in the air. Now, with his injury, she had to wonder how much

distance he would put between them. Waiting, wondering, worrying, was killing her.

She turned to Dan. "How long can it take to operate on an arm?"
Dan eyed her, but then looked beyond her right shoulder. A voice sounded behind

Shelby, making her turn.

A nurse stood there. "Mr. Morton?"
Dan stepped to Shelby's side. "Yes, I'm Dan Morton."
"You can see Mr. Evans now."
"How is he?" Shelby asked urgently.
The woman darted Shelby a look, but quickly broke eye contact. "He's stable.

Beyond that he will have to share what information he chooses to release on his own."

Shelby made a face. "Well, then, take us to him."
The woman held up her hand as Shelby started forward. "Mr. Evans was very

specific in his request that only Mr. Morton be allowed in his room."

Shelby felt her stomach flip-flop. "I see." She took a step backwards.
"Shelby," Dan said, "he's upset right now."
Shelby made a sound as she bit back the pain. There was no more waiting to see how

much distance he would put between them. The answer was simple. Too much. "And that
means what? That I should understand being shut out?"

"Shel..."

She fixed Dan in a look. "Tell him goodbye for me. I'm catching the next flight

home."

Turning, she didn't look back as Dan called her name.
She couldn't look back. Corey had shut her out and getting over him had to start right

here, right now.

He would never completely believe in her and she couldn't live with that. Not now,

not ever.

An apology, an excuse, an explanation ... none would be good enough.

* * * *

Corey was stiff and miserable as he lay in the hospital bed. He had refused the pain

pills they offered him. Somehow, taking drugs seemed too ironic considering his
situation. Accusations of using them had caused so much trouble.

The choice was easy. Pain over the use of something symbolic of trouble.
The creaking of the door alerted him to Dan's entry, but he didn't look towards the

door. Instead, he stared out the open window beside his bed, into the darkness that so
resembled his life.

"They tell me you won't take anything for pain."
Corey still didn't turn. "I don't need anything."
"They say you do."
"I'll never pitch again, Dan." He turned to look at Dan then, wanting to see his

reaction.

Dan kept his expression carefully guarded. He leaned against the wall. "Shelby

wanted to see you."

Corey couldn't believe his ears. "Did you hear me? I'll never pitch again. I have

damage that can't be repaired. Muscles that won't work the way they used to."

Dan fixed him in a steady gaze, taking long moments before answering. "So you'll

coach, just as we discussed, only sooner than planned."

Corey turned back to the window. "What about my reputation as a druggy?"
"Flip on the television. You're now the good guy done bad. If you want that coaching

job, I'll get it for you. What I can't get you, is Shelby back. She's headed to the airport.
The minute she heard you didn't want to see her, she took off. She'd been pacing the floor
worried about you and then you wouldn't see her."

Corey turned and looked at Dan. "Why was she worried, Dan? Afraid she snagged

the wrong athlete? Afraid I wouldn't pitch again?"

Dan's face registered his shock. "I know you don't believe that. That's not Shelby. I

know it and I know you know it."

Who was he supposed to trust? Marcie, the Rookie ... people all around him betrayed

him. It would be easier to shut Shelby out than deal with her disappointing him. No,
worse, destroying him. Damn, he loved her. To find out he was nothing but a trophy to
her would be too much. He would rather be on his own and not risk any more of his
heart.

"Do I?" Corey asked, feeling the pain of loss in his gut. "I've only known her a few

weeks. I've known people far longer who haven't been what they seemed."

Chapter Thirteen

Shelby woke to hear a strange sound. Lying in her bed, she blinked, trying to figure

out what she was hearing.

Rain.
She could grab a book and stay home and read. Staying home seemed a good option.

Nothing else sounded good. The question was, could she manage to focus on the words
on the page?

She needed to get reacquainted with her own space.
The past month since she returned to New York, her house hadn't seemed much of a

home. Of course, she'd hardly been there. So in need of forgetting Corey, she had worked
herself to the bone.

Bev had insisted she take this Sunday off.
Flipping to her side, she pounded the pillow. She hated not having anything to do. It

left her with her own thoughts, which always seemed to go to Corey.

Everyday she didn't hear from him, hurt worse. She had moved to an angry stage

now, which didn't seem much better than her prior depressed mode.

Lying in the bed was not good. Her head was filling with more and more junk.

Throwing the covers back, she shoved her feet over the edge of the bed. The thought of
getting dressed didn't appeal. Staying in her boxers and tank seemed fine. She frowned.
Okay, shorts. She'd put on shorts.

Still, it wasn't like she was going out, and she sure wasn't inviting guests over. After

pulling on a pair of terry shorts and matching top, she went to the bathroom. She washed
her face and brushed her teeth. Anything else seemed too much effort.

Stepping back from the mirror, she viewed her image. Bev was right. She was

looking skinny. For a moment, she contemplated stepping on the scale, but then decided
against it. She didn't want to know.

Thinking, she tried to remember the last time she ate. Breakfast yesterday. Not good.

With a sigh, she walked towards the kitchen. She wasn't hungry, but she didn't like what
she saw in the mirror either.

She'd have to eat.
Staring into her refrigerator, she realized she hadn't been to the grocery store in

weeks. Her options were limited. Slamming the door, she gave up on the contents. She
was about to check the pantry for pop tarts, when the phone rang.

At the same time, her doorbell chimed.
She considered ignoring both. But running from life wasn't working and she knew it.

Grabbing the cordless off the kitchen wall, she punched the answer button as she moved
to the front door.

"Go to the television," Bev said.
"Are you going to say hello?" Shelby said, frowning into the phone as the doorbell

chimed again.

Bev made an impatient sound. "Just go to the television and turn on ESPN."

Shelby reached for her doorknob. "Someone's at my door. Just tell me what's gong

on."

Shelby pulled the door open as Bev said, "Guess who just took a coaching job in

New York?"

Shelby gulped. Standing outside her door was Corey. She blinked. It couldn't be?

"Corey?"

"That's right!" Bev exclaimed in the phone. "Can you believe it?"
Dressed in his standard worn jeans and t-shirt, he looked thinner than before, but still

deliciously male.

"Can I come in?" Corey asked.
"Bev," Shelby said, barely finding her voice. "I have to go. I'll call you later."
"Did you hear what I said? Corey is coming here."
Shelby stared at Corey. He stared back. "He is here, Bev. Standing at my door. I'll

call you later."

Corey smiled, clearly understanding the call was about him.
"Ohhhh," Bev said. "Call me!" She hung up.
Shelby hit the end button on the phone. Corey gave her a look that could have melted

her like butter. She really wanted to resist. No way was she falling for him again.

"Hi," he said.
Such a simple word, but it did such crazy things to Shelby's insides. "Hi."
"Can I come in?" he repeated.
Reaching for her resolve, she managed to say, "I don't think so."
His expression showed nothing. He leaned against the doorframe. "Don't you think

we need to talk?"

Shelby welcomed the warmth of anger as it spread through her mind and body. "This

sounds familiar. We had a similar scene back in Texas. No, I don't think we need to talk.
Not any more. I am way past talking."

He stared at her, his eyes intent on her face, searching and probing. "I need to talk to

you, Shelby." His voice was soft and held a plea so intense it inched its way under her
skin.

Resolve suffered a blow. Shelby slowly stepped backwards and motioned him in the

door. Without hesitation, he pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside. They stood
facing one another for a long moment. Shelby stared at his chest, not willing to tip her
chin up to see his eyes.

Eyes that watched her closely. She could feel them.
Without looking up, she stepped forward. "The living room is this way. We can talk

there."

He followed, his boots making noise against her hardwood floor. Shelby felt his

presence like an electric charge. Her body was responsive to him, wanted him, even as
her mind fought her desire. He had hurt her.

Probably would again if given the chance.
Shelby sat down on the couch, expecting him to do the same. Instead, he shocked her

by dropping to his knee in front of her. His hand rested on her leg, making it warm and
tingly. Sensations raced up her thigh, between her legs, into her breasts.

Damn the man for getting to her so easily.
"What are you doing?"

"I love you, Shelby."
Her mouth dropped open. "What?"
He shook his head. "That's right. I love you. Every day without you has been pure

hell."

That was hard to believe. She stiffened. "That's why I haven't heard from you?"
He took her hand. "I figured out fast how badly I had treated you, Shelby. But then I

struggled with this whole issue of my arm and all. I didn't feel whole. How could I come
to you when I might not even have the use of one of my arms?"

She tried to pull her hand away, but he held it. "Just another example of your fine

opinion of me."

"No," he said quickly. "That's not it at all. I needed to talk to you in person and you

were gone. I couldn't leave. And I wanted to know what the future held when I saw you
again. I wanted you to know who I was now, the new me, and decide from there if you
wanted me."

"Corey..."
"Look," he said without letting her finish, "all I want is a chance to show you how

much I love you. I know it's going to take time for you to get over how stupid I've been."

"I don't know what to say," she whispered. She wanted to believe him, wanted to be

with him. Yet, fear of being hurt again made her hold back.

He gently pushed her legs apart and slid in between. His hand cupped her cheek.

"I've never felt this way about anyone. I want a chance to show you what you mean to
me. I'm even moving here. Coaching here gives me the chance to see you more. That was
the deciding factor in choosing where I was going."

Now that got to her. "You chose your job to be near me?"
"Oh yeah," he said softly. "I told you, I love you."
"You love me?" she whispered. If only she could believe that.
His head slowly lowered. "Yes," he said softly. "More than words can express.
Then his mouth brushed hers, sending a surge of pure heat through her body and

making her heart squeeze with emotion. "Corey."

"God, I missed you," he said hoarsely.
Her hand covered his on her cheek. She told him the truth. "I missed you, too."
His lips pressed against hers and held, and the power of their connection wrapped

them like a heavy blanket, thick with its coverage.

When he pulled back, their eyes locked. "We'll take things slow. Just say yes to us,

Shelby."

She searched his eyes, and was amazed to see them so open to her viewing. It was

then she realized that always in the past he had shielded some of his emotions from her.
But not today. Today she saw love in his eyes.

"Yes," she said in a choked voice.
He kissed her then, hot and wet and intense, pulling her close, and wrapping his arms

around her waist. She sank into him, aching for their closeness, needing him.

"I want to make love to you, Shelby," he said against her lips.
"Yes," she said, marveling at his choice of words. "I'd like that."
His lips trailed her neck, her jaw, her lips. Slowly, he undressed her, kissing her as he

did, inch by inch. He took his time, suckling each of her nipples, dipping his tongue in
her navel, making love to her.

When finally he stood and removed his own clothes, she was so wet, aching for him,

that she could hardly believe it. It was perhaps the most aroused she had ever been, yet it
felt so much like the tender act of love, not just sex.

When he slid on top of her, kissing her again, she yearned to have him inside her.

But he took his time, kissing her neck yet again, touching her breasts.

When he finally slid inside, she sighed with pure pleasure. He looked down at her. "I

plan to stay right here, inside you, a lot over the next few months, showing you how good
we are together."

She touched his cheek. "Good, because I do love you, Corey."
He stared at her, intense emotions flashing in his eyes. "Then we can do anything

together. Including overcoming the past."

"Yes," she whispered, "and right here, right now, feels like a wonderful beginning."
And he proved her right as he began a slow rhythm to bliss.

The End.

About the Author:

Lisa Renee Jones lives in Austin, Texas, a college town where sexy cowboys and UT

Football players almost seem to be the harvest. The eye candy produced stimulates the,
um, well, mind. Needless to say, Lisa doesn't have trouble conjuring up new men for her
books.

Having spent years in the corporate world, Lisa laughs at the shocked reactions her

ex-peers have when they read her writing. Her response—every good girl has a fun,
slightly naughty one dying to get out.

Hers is loose and loving it!

We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books

http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com

for other exciting literary erotica romances.

Waiting For You — Glenda Diana

Weekend Games — Chris Tanglen

Destiny's Magick — Rae Morgan

Love Lessons — Vanessa Hart

Portal — Sydney Morgann

Bittersweet — Louisa Trent

Business or Pleasure…or Both? — Rae Morgan and Jasmine Haynes

And many, many more!!