It Had to Be You (50 page)

“That’s good. Don’t pay any attention if you hear strange noises.”

“What sort of noises?”

“Drunken laughter. Breaking glass. Jukebox. That sort of thing.”

“I won’t give it a thought.”

“And if somebody named Bubba asks you what you’re doing here, you just tell him you’re with me.”

“I’ll do that.”

He began kissing her, and by the time he stopped walking, she realized he’d once again distracted her from paying attention to where they were going. Had they traveled a short distance or a long one? He wasn’t breathing hard, but he was in such good physical shape, that didn’t mean anything. She couldn’t even be certain whether he’d climbed a set of stairs or if they’d stayed on the same level.

“I’m going to set you down now. I don’t want to get you too close to the bar. On account of fights breaking out.”

“May I take the blindfold off yet?”

“I’m afraid not, honey. You’ve still got your clothes on.”

“I have to take my clothes off?”

“I’m sorry, darlin’. I thought you’d figured out how this was going to work.” He removed her coat. “Don’t you worry, though. I’ll help you.”

“You’re such a gentleman.”

He slipped off her earrings, pulled her sweater over her head, and discarded it. “Phoebe, honey, I don’t want to embarrass you, but did you know you can see right through this?”

“Can you now?”

“I’m afraid so. That means I’m going to have to ask you to stand real still for a minute.”

Through the gossamer-thin silk of her bra, she felt his mouth settle over her nipple. The warm, moist suction sent torrents of excitement raging through her body. His sensual torture continued as he moved his mouth to the other breast, while the nipple he had abandoned pebbled beneath the damp, chilly spot he had left on the silk. Her knees were growing weak, and she wanted him inside her so badly she grasped his shoulders.

“Please. . . . You’re making me crazy.”

“Shhh. I’m just getting started here, and, frankly, I expect a little more stamina from you. Maybe you could recite some batting averages or something.”

She laughed and then gasped as he gently nipped her with his teeth. A moment later, her bra fell away, and she was naked from the waist up.

“You are one beautiful woman, sweetheart. Isn’t she, boys?” /

He definitely needed to be put in his place. She began to lift her arms to remove the blindfold, but he caught her wrists and held them at her sides. “Not yet, honey. I’m real thirsty.”

Releasing her, he cupped her breasts in his palms. Once again, he began to feast on her nipples, but this time, not even the frail barrier of silk was in his way. He suckled her until she was making soft, mewing sounds.

She reached out, desperate to touch him. At some point he had taken off his own coat, and she slipped her hands under his sweater, sliding them through the mat of hair on his chest to brush his nipples.

He groaned. She felt his touch at her waist, and then the light brush of wool as her skirt fell free. He spoke softly, his voice husky. “I don’t want to scare you, honey, so I’d better tell you exactly what I’m going to do here.”

She wasn’t the slightest bit afraid and he knew it, but she decided it would be rude to interrupt.

“I’ve made a bed for us with our coats, and I’m going to lay you down on it. That’s right. Now lean back. That’s good; real good. Honey, I don’t remember telling you that you could close up your legs like that. Uh-huh, now move that knee up so I can enjoy the view.” His fingers found the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

“Can I take the blindfold off yet?”

“Oh, I don’t think so. No sense in gettin’ you all riled up till I’m through with you.”

She was definitely going to get even with him for this. But not until she had enjoyed every second of this exquisite, thrilling seduction.

She heard the rustle of his clothes as he discarded them, and her heart swelled with love. Six months ago she could never have imagined trusting any man enough to let him do this to her, let alone one with Dan’s physical strength. Yet she lay here before him naked and open. Even though she had no idea where he had taken her, she had never felt safer and she realized that, along with his love, he had given her freedom from fear.

He lay down beside her on the bed of coats and drew her into his arms. “I’m going to kiss you a little bit. If you get bored, I can ask the band to play some music or something.”

“I’m definitely not bored.”

She breathed in his clean scent and touched the tip of her tongue to his shoulder. His muscles flexed and she felt his arousal pulsing hard against her thigh. His mouth closed over hers. Their tongues joined and everything else slipped from her mind until she was only aware of sensations. The sound of his groans, the dampness of his skin as he held himself back to pleasure her. His mouth traveled from her breasts to her waist. He kissed the insides of her thighs, then opened her to love her more deeply.

She had no idea when she lost the blindfold. She didn’t know whether it had fallen off or one of them had removed it. She was only aware of the roar of blood in her ears, the ecstasy of being joined with this man she loved so very much, the fierce passion of his love words as he thrust so deeply into her body.

“All my life . . .”

“I know. My sweet . . .”

“Forever . . .”

“Oh, yes. Forever.”

They pledged themselves with word and body, then cried out together as their love flowed warm and rich from one heart into the other.

When it was over, he held her against him as if he’d never let her go. His voice was thick with emotion. “I love you so much. I’ve been lonesome for you all my life.”

Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. “You’re the most wonderful man in the entire world.”

She could feel him smile against her forehead. “You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be?”

“I wanted to drive out the bad memory, honey. I wanted to put a good one in its place.”

She had no idea what he was talking about, and she was too lethargic to question him. Sighing with contentment, she snuggled her cheek into his neck and opened her eyes. She was aware of the gentle beating of his heart, the stars twinkling in the sky above, the soaring gridwork of steel. . . .

Her head shot up.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“Oh, my God!”

They were lying naked on the fifty yard line in the very center of the Midwest Sports Dome.

She got upset about the strangest things. Just because he’d asked a few perfectly innocent questions about that raging hormone who was taking Molly to her high school senior prom was no reason to accuse him of being overly protective. It had been odd starting out his marriage as a stand-in father for a teenage girl, but he knew he’d done a lot better job of it than Bert Somerville. He and Phoebe had secretly rejoiced when Molly had decided to go to Northwestern instead of one of the Ivy League schools. They didn’t want her too far from home.

So much had happened these past three years. Ray Hardesty had suffered a fatal heart attack before he could go to trial. Reed Chandler had taken the hint about leaving town, and the last anybody’d heard, he was selling cheap condos on a run-down Florida golf course. There had been weddings: Ron and Sharon, Darnell and Charmaine. He’d be surprised if Valerie and Jason Keane ever got married, but they certainly made an interesting couple. There had been a wrenching funeral when his friend Tully Archer had died of pneumonia. The Stars had lost their first two Super Bowls and failed to qualify the third year. This year, however, they’d finally won it, and the Lombardi trophy was sitting in the lobby of the Stars Complex to prove it
.
Best of all, he’d become a family man.

He
s
miled as he remembered that glare Phoebe had shot him over the dinner table tonight when he’d been grilling Molly about her love life. Although he tried to keep it a secret, having his wife in a snit was something he never failed to enjoy. He was a competitive person by nature, and the sheer challenge of seeing how long it took him from the time she started fussing at him to the time he got her naked appealed to his sportsman’s nature. So far, his record was eight minutes, and that had been after a serious snit—too—the same night he and Ron had badgered her into signing Bobby Tom’s new $10-million contract.

Phoebe loved Bobby Tom—he and Viktor were the twins godfathers—but she was a real tightwad when came to big-money contracts. The smartest thing he’d ever done was sic his lawyers on her right after they got married. That had been a battle and a half. Damn but he loved being married to Phoebe!

Not long before his twin daughters were born, Phoebe and Ron had signed an agreement to reorganize the Stars. Unfortunately, that agreement had put an end to all kinds of enjoyable conflicts. Ron was now the Stars’ president and the person in charge of day-to-day operations, while Phoebe was proving to be a real whiz at her new job as Director of Finance and Budget.

Under the terms of the agreement, only Ron had the authority to make personnel decisions. Signing over that responsibility had been a wise move on Phoebe’s part. She loved crunching numbers, but she didn’t have the stomach for the whole business of cutting and trading players. She still liked to poke her nose into Dan’s coaching practices, however, especially when one of the players ran whining to her about being benched. On those occasions he took great pleasure in reminding her that he reported only to Ron.

Phoebe was so good-humored that everybody except the sports agents loved working with her. Only when salaries were being negotiated did she get prickly. The whole world knew by now how smart she was, so she couldn’t pull off her bimbo scams anymore, and to Dan’s embarrassment, she had rapidly earned a reputation as one of the most astute budget directors in the NFL, which didn’t mean that he still wasn’t planning to hit her with both barrels when his own contract expired this fall. Mrs. Phoebe Somerville Calebow was going to pay through the nose for that diamond choker he planned to slip around her beautiful neck when their next baby was born.

Although they hadn’t talked too much about it, both of them knew it would be his last contract with the Stars. The girls were getting older and he was beginning to resent the brutal seven-day workweeks during the season. He already had his eye on a sweet little Division III college right here in DuPage County.

He smiled to himself as he remembered the way Phoebe had looked when he’d kissed her just before he’d slipped from the house for his nightly outing. She’d been sitting cross-legged in the middle of the living room floor, one of his old sweatshirts pulled tight over her big round belly while she played patty-cake with the girls, who kept trying to grab her charm bracelets and tug at her hair. Tonight he was going to pull that sweatshirt right up to her chin and whisper lots of girly things to her belly. He didn’t care how much she teased him. He liked having girls, and he was hoping for another one.

He stopped walking and gazed at the farmhouse. The twins were two and a half now, mischievous little blond haired cherubs who managed to get into nearly as much trouble as their mother. As he thought about them, he could feel his throat closing up, and he was glad nobody was around to witness the tears that gathered in his eyes. He’d always loved this place, but until Phoebe had settled in with her rhinestone sunglasses and glittery earrings, something had been missing.

Once again he drew a long, contented breath. He had everything he’d dreamed of. A wife he loved with all his heart. Beautiful children. A house in the country. And a dog.

He whistled softly “Come on, Pooh. Let’s go home.”

This book would not have been possible without the gracious assistance of the Chicago Bears’ organization. A special thanks to Barbara Allen for opening doors and answering questions. Go Bears!

I am also deeply indebted to the following people and organizations:

The National Football League

The Dallas Cowboys’ and Denver Broncos’ organizations

The public relations staff at the Pontiac Silverdome and the Houston Astrodome

Linda Barlow, Mary Lynn Baxter, Jayne Ann Krentz, Jimmie Morel, John Roscich, and Katherine Stone, for brainstorming, answering questions, providing perspective, and, in general, bailing me out of trouble

The wonderful reference librarians at Nichols Library

Claire Zion, for years of guidance and support The people at Avon Books, especially my enthusiastic and helpful editor, Lisa Wager.

A special thank you to my husband, Bill Phillips, who, since my writing career began, has planned golf tournaments, designed computers, and spent the past year managing a professional football team. This book truly would not have been possible without his help.