All Your Loving (Bachelors & Bridesmaids) (2 page)

He looked down at her in surprise. "What?" he demanded.

She looked into his light green eyes and felt the breath catch in her throat. No wonder the man was a star. He was gorgeous.

"Do you want an autograph?" he asked briskly, removing her hand from his arm.

"No. I want you," she mumbled, saying the first thing that came into her mind as she stared into his incredibly sexy eyes.

"Sorry, I'm not available. Why don't you try one of the guys over there?" He pointed to the group of players now talking to the crowd.

"No, wait. I don't mean you, exactly. I just want to talk to you. I have to ask you something—"

"Not today, sweetheart. I don't have time." His voice was filled with polite weariness.

"My name is Julie."

"Look, honey, I don't care what your name is. In fact, I think it's better if I don't know. Please just go away. I'm tired. I want to go home and go to bed. Alone."

"I just want to talk to you for a minute," she said in exasperation.

"Talk? That's a new one."

"Mr. Kingsley—"

"If I give you what you want, will you leave?"

"Yes, of course," she snapped, unaware of his intentions, until he put his arms around her. "What—what do you think you're doing?"

"Giving you what you want," he growled into her ear as his lips covered hers in a long, hot kiss.

She was so shocked by the onslaught, it took her a minute to react, and another minute to pull herself away from what was quite possibly the hottest kiss she'd ever had. "Stop," she said. "That's not what I want."

He looked at her in surprise, and then his eyes traveled down her body, taking in her business skirt and cream-colored blouse. His hands fell from her shoulders as he gave her a wary look. "Okay."

"That's it? Okay? You kiss me and then say okay?"

"What do you want me to say? You told me you wanted me."

"Not like that."

"I guess we got our signals crossed. I thought you were a fan. But come to think of it, you don't look like a groupie, you don't talk like one and you certainly don't kiss like one."

Julie's mouth dropped open at his provocative statement. "What do you mean, I don't kiss like a groupie?" She mentally kicked herself for asking such a leading question. What difference did it make what he thought of the way she kissed? "Forget I asked that."

He shrugged. "Fine. So, who are you and what do you want?"

She stared at him blankly, finally realizing that she was going to be given an opportunity to explain. She took a deep breath, taking a minute to regain her poise. "My name is Julie Michaels. I work for the California Children's Foundation. I came to see you, hoping I could persuade you to participate in our fundraiser next week. I know you're busy, but it's for a really good cause."

"They all are. I wish I could help you, but right now I need to concentrate one hundred percent on baseball. Another time, perhaps, but not now."

"It's only one night, a couple of hours. And it would mean so much." She hated herself for having to beg, but it was important that he realize what was at stake. "The kids, they—"

"I said no," he snapped. "There are a lot of charities who want my help. I can't participate in everything. I'm sorry."

She shouldn't have been surprised at his attitude. Her father had never gone out of his way to help anyone. It was always about baseball; that was the only thing that mattered to him. And Matt Kingsley was just like her dad.

"You're sorry?" She shook her head, the words pouring out of her before she could stop herself. "I don't think so. You're so caught up in your own star-studded world that you can't think about anybody beside yourself. You're worrying about hitting a ball over a fence, and we're trying to help children survive cancer and child abuse. God, I hate macho baseball players," she said passionately, her voice ringing through the parking lot.

Matt's jaw dropped in surprise.

"Look, there he is," a young girl shouted from the distant crowd as their argument drew attention.

Julie whirled around as the crowd turned toward them, their adoring faces filled with excitement. Matt Kingsley was their hero, a man who rose above all others, but she couldn't see what they saw, or maybe she just didn't want to.

As the girls ran toward them, she turned and walked away. Matt might have turned her down, but at least she'd put him in the middle of a pack of hungry teenage wolves. It wasn't much, but it was something.

* * *

The drive from the baseball stadium in China Basin to the Foundation offices near Fisherman's Wharf gave Julie time to think, and her anger was slowly replaced by guilt and embarrassment. She had never spoken like that to anyone, especially a potential celebrity participant. But Matt Kingsley's curt refusal had opened up her old wounds. She banged the steering wheel in frustration. When was she going to be free of the anger and pain that came with memories of her father?

It had been ten years since she had seen her dad and ten years since she had attended a baseball game, but the mere mention of the sport had sent her emotions spinning out of control. Within minutes of arriving at the stadium, she'd changed from a calm, poised businesswoman into a crazy person.

Her guilt deepened as she walked into the office and saw Robert and Melanie working together in the conference room. The three of them were a team, and they had raised a lot of money for the children they served. She didn't want to let them down, but they were going to have to find someone else to star in the cook-off.

They looked up expectantly as she pushed open the door.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Melanie frowned. "You didn't see him?"

"Damn." Robert shook his head in frustration. "We need that man. We'll have to try something else. I found out last night that he goes to the Royal Athletic Club every morning between six and eight o'clock. That might be a good spot to get to him."

"I don't think so," Julie replied.

Robert looked at her in surprise. "You're not giving up, are you? This is too important to quit on, Julie."

"I did see Matt Kingsley." She took a deep breath. "I spoke to him. He said no, and then—then I insulted him."

"You didn't," Melanie breathed.

"I'm afraid so."

"What exactly do you mean—you insulted him?" Robert asked.

"I asked him to participate in the fundraiser, and he said no. Then I got angry. He wouldn't even give me a chance to explain, to tell him what we're all about."

Melanie looked at her in amazement. "What did you say? I don't know how you had the nerve to insult someone like that."

"He's just a man, and not a very nice one. I'm sorry that I let you guys down. But I honestly don't think there's anything I could have said that would have made him participate. His mind was made up before I ever opened my mouth. I didn't insult him until after he said no."

The receptionist buzzed the phone to tell Robert that one of the board members was on the phone.

He sighed when he heard the name. "The last thing I want to do is tell Emily Davenport that we failed on getting Matt Kingsley. Her husband is a season ticket holder and one of their biggest fans."

"Maybe we can get some of the other Cougars," Melanie suggested.

"Matt Kingsley is the Cougars. The rest of the guys look like amateurs next to him." Robert got to his feet. "I'm not giving up on Kingsley yet. There must be a way to change his mind. Think about it."

Julie nodded, even though she knew that she could think about it forever, and there was nothing she could do to change things. She sat down as Robert left the room. "I really blew this one, Mel. I should have handled his refusal better, tried to charm him into finding out more about us."

"Well, at least you actually spoke to him. That's better than Robert or I did. What did he look like, anyway? Was he as sexy and attractive as his posters?"

"He was," she admitted. "I just wish he had more compassion, more sensitivity to go with that face and body." Her voice hardened. "But the man has only one thing on his mind and that's baseball."

"Maybe that's why he's the best."

"I suppose. I'll call the Cougars again and see if any other players are available. But I think we need to come up with some other ideas." She made her way back to her office and dove into work. It focused her brain on what was important and kept the emotions at bay.

She worked into the evening, barely noticing when Melanie stopped in to say goodbye. It was only when a knock came at her door that she realized the office had grown dark. She switched on her desk lamp, the light outlining a shadowy figure behind the glass panel. She was completely alone in the office. Her nerves tingled as the knock came again, and then the door slowly opened.

Chapter Two

"Julie Michaels." Matt Kingsley said her name with satisfaction, savoring her look of surprise. It had taken him some effort to track her down, time he really didn't have to waste, but after their encounter at the ballpark, he hadn't been able to put her out of his mind.

She was prettier than he remembered, her eyes a beautiful sky blue framed by dark lashes, her blonde hair swirling around her shoulders in silky waves, her form fitting skirt and silky top clinging to some very nice curves. She was definitely not a groupie.

Julie rose to her feet, her eyes wary. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." He walked into the room and moved a stack of folders off the chair in front of her desk. "Do you mind?"

She shook her head. "No, please sit down."

"It took me a while to find you," he said as she sat down behind her desk. "I couldn't remember the name of your organization, but when I asked at the Cougars' front office if they knew anything about you, they gave me this address."

"I—I honestly don't know what to say. I thought you'd made your decision clear earlier."

"I thought so, too. But then I had second thoughts." He glanced around her tiny office. It was typical of a small nonprofit organization. There were stacks of banners and posters in one corner, a desk overflowing with paperwork, and T-shirts for an upcoming walkathon piled on top of a filing cabinet. "Looks like you have a lot of events going on."

"Always. It's how we raise money." She paused. "Why are you here?" she asked, fiddling with her ballpoint pen.

As he gazed at her, he felt a little entranced by the way her golden hair caught the light from her desk lamp, almost like a halo for an angel—a wary, pissed off angel.

He leaned forward and picked up one of the photographs on her desk. It was a photo of a group of young teenagers in matching California Children's Foundation shirts. "Who are these kids?"

"They're a mix of kids who have been homeless, are in foster care, or are being raised by single parents with very low income. Their circumstances are helped by the services at Baycrest House, which the Foundation supports. They have after school programs, tutoring, meals, showers, places to sleep, and although they try to help the whole family, their focus is on the children who may slip through the cracks. Those particular kids are doing really well in school now, and they've become mentors for the younger children. They also do volunteer jobs here at the Foundation. They're really great."

Her voice warmed and her eyes softened as she spoke of the kids, and he was beginning to see just how passionate she was about her job and also how personal her job was to her. She wasn't just about raising money and asking for things; she really cared. And it had been a while since he'd met anyone who cared about the bigger picture of the world. He liked that. He also felt even guiltier now for how he'd shut her down earlier.

"I can give you a brochure on that program and others that we fund," Julie said. "If you're interested."

"Sure," he said. "But I doubt the brochure will bring the program alive the way you just did."

"I wrote most of it, so hopefully it will." She paused, her lips tightening as she drew in a breath. "You said you had second thoughts. What does that mean?"

"I want to apologize."

Her eyebrows shot up in amazement. "Seriously?"

"Yes. We got our signals crossed earlier. I've been swamped with business demands the last few days and trips back and forth across the country. I got off a plane this morning at eleven and had a poor batting practice right before I talked to you. When you caught up with me, I wasn't in the best mood. It's not an excuse, but I hope it gives my actions some context."

"It does," she said slowly. "And I really appreciate you taking the time to apologize. I'm sorry, too, for what I said. I had no right to yell at you because you said no. You certainly don't have to participate in our event. I know you must have a lot of demands on your time."

"I do. So tell me about this event you want me to participate in."

"It's a celebrity cook-off that will be used specifically to provide another year of funding for Baycrest House as well as two other afterschool programs for kids in need. If we somehow manage to go over our target goal, we're also hoping to buy some new medical equipment for a pediatric urgent care center that was recently set up in the Tenderloin to serve kids who don't have good access to healthcare."