Bases Loaded (Mustangs Baseball)

Bases
Loaded

By

Roz Lee

Chapter
One

He’s here
.

Being in the same
room with Antonio Ramirez made Clare’s skin tingle and her lady parts hum. She
tugged on her skirt, wishing she’d tried on the dress earlier in the week when
she would have had time to go out and find something else to wear. Being curvy
was one thing, but being in denial about it was another.

Other women could
get away with wearing last year’s purchases, but not her. Nope. All she had to
do was look at a salad, much less a dessert, and she gained weight. But even a
too-snug dress couldn’t keep her from attending Jason Holder’s fundraiser—not
once she’d learned the Mustangs’ latest acquisition would be there.

She’d had a crush
on the center fielder ever since he made his Major League debut with the
Marauders back in the days when she’d been a student at Julliard. She’d used
her family connections to get game tickets as often as possible and saved her
allowance to buy even more. Of course, Antonio hadn’t known she existed, and if
he had, he wouldn’t have given her a second look, but that didn’t stop her from
fantasizing about him. And her. Doing all kinds of things. Together.

And that had been
before she’d heard the rumor.

But men like
Antonio didn’t fantasize about women like her. Antonio preferred his women
tall, slim, and cover girl gorgeous. In fact, every time he appeared in public
he had a stunning woman or two at his side.

Clare scanned the
room, looking for the tallest female. Runway types were always tall—and skinny.
If she found the model or
models
in the room, she’d probably find
Antonio Ramirez, too. It didn’t take long to spot the lanky blonde and, as
she’d predicted, the man she had come to the fundraiser to see. He was elegant
in a tuxedo that had obviously been tailored specifically for his muscular
build. The crowd surrounding him shifted, blocking her view.

Oh, well. The
evening was young. Clare turned and came face to face with the last person on
earth she wanted to see—Jessica Roach.

Well, shit.

As a rule, these sort
of events attracted nice people—the kind who genuinely wanted to use their
money or influence to promote a good cause. But they also tended to attract the
kind that thought rubbing elbows with celebrities made
them
more
important. Jessica was the worst of that bunch. For reasons Clare couldn’t
begin to comprehend, the society predator had made it her mission to remind
Clare of her shortcomings at every possible opportunity.

“He’s out of your
league,” Jessica said, nodding toward Antonio. She sipped her drink, her eyes
sparkling with glee over the rim of the glass.

“Hello to you,
too, Jessica.” Clare forced a smile to her face.

Jessica smirked.
“You aren’t his type.”

Typical of a
shark. Not even a pretense at civility. Seek out your prey and get a bite in
before they have a chance to flee. “Who are you talking about?”

“Tony Ramirez, of
course. I saw you drooling over him.”

Clare fought the
urge to wipe at her chin, fearing she had done just that.

“He doesn’t go for
earthy
women.”

Tell me
something I don’t know.
“He doesn’t swim in your waters either.” At least
she hoped not. She blinked away a mental image from long ago she’d tried
unsuccessfully to forget. Jessica was exactly the kind of fish Antonio kept in
his aquarium.

“You’d be
surprised.” Jessica brought her drink to her lips, rimming the edge of the
glass with her tongue. She winked at someone over Clare’s shoulder.

Gross.
Clearly, the shark had found tastier prey. “Nice seeing you, Jessica,” she
lied, and made her escape. She wouldn’t let the likes of Jessica Roach ruin a
perfectly good evening.

Clare acknowledged
a few more people she knew then headed for the silent auction tables stretched
like a jeweled necklace around the perimeter of the ballroom. Since taking the
job as the organist for the Mustangs last year, she’d been invited to more of
these events than she could count. No way could she afford a single thing up
for auction, but that didn’t stop her from bidding. In a room filled with the
top echelon of Dallas society and franchise players from every major sports
team in town, someone would outbid her before the night ended. They always did.

Having studied the
bid brochure ahead of time and selected a theme for the night, she located the
first item on her list, a his-and-hers massage package at an exclusive spa.
There was no
his
to go with Clare’s
hers
, but the bid item
certainly qualified as a Romantic Interlude. In fact, she had highlighted each
item on her list with Antonio Ramirez in mind. Even as she recorded her
ridiculously low bid, she indulged herself in a little harmless fantasy.

The two of them,
relaxed after receiving incredible full-body massages, would sink into a warm
bath surrounded by candlelight. Lulled by soft music, they would sip champagne
and learn the curves and planes of each other’s bodies. Her skin would come
alive under his touch while her hands explored his hard body.

She smiled to
herself and quickly filled in her email address—not that anyone would be
contacting her to say she’d won—and signed her name. With a sigh, she placed
the pen back in its fancy holder and moved on to the next item on her list.

* * *

Antonio smiled and
clasped the hand thrust his way. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Mayor.”

Mayor Ryland
pumped Tony’s hand enthusiastically. “The pleasure is all mine.” His smile
added emphasis to his words. “You’re just what the Mustangs need. I’d love to
see the team bring the World Series to Dallas next season.”

“We’re going to do
our best, sir.”

“I know you will,”
the mayor confirmed.

A tug on his other
arm drew his attention. “Tony,” the sequin draped toothpick whined, “aren’t you
going to introduce me?”

“Um…sure.”
As
soon as I remember your name.
He searched his memory for the elusive name.
Something unusual. Chloe? No, that wasn’t it. Was it?

“No need,” the
mayor said, turning his attention to the woman. “Everyone knows the most famous
cover model to ever come out of our little town.” He reached for her hand and
brought it to his lips for a kiss. “Welcome home, Dierdre.”

She batted her
eyelashes, and Tony could have sworn she’d purred. “It’s good to be back. When
I learned about Jason’s new foundation, I knew I had to do whatever I could to
help.”

What a load of
crap. Her publicist was his publicist, and the bitch of a woman had paired them
up for the fundraising event for reasons that escaped Tony entirely. Dierdre
had zero interest in the foundation his new teammate Jason Holder had
established to aid children suffering from heart disease. She was here to be
seen. Tomorrow, she would be on someone else’s arm, thank God, at some other
event. He just needed to get through tonight with her.

The mayor did his
best to carry on a coherent conversation with the clueless woman, but it was a
losing battle. Tony decided the man had suffered enough and interrupted. “Mr.
Mayor, thanks for coming out tonight to support the Christopher Foundation. I’m
sure Jason appreciates it.”

“Hey, it’s a good
cause. After hearing his story about how he almost died when he was a kid…well,
it touched me. This new charity of his will help a lot of kids and their
families.”

“You’re right
about that,” Jason said, joining their small circle. “Thanks for coming
tonight.”

“Thrilled to do
it, Jason. I dropped off a check a few minutes ago, and I plan to add it to my
list of regular donations.”

Tony scanned the
room as the trio talked around him. As fundraisers went, this one was first
class. Champagne flowed freely, and the attendees included the highest ranks of
Dallas society as well as local celebrities. He had even seen a few Hollywood
types who claimed Dallas as home.

So, why was he so
freakin’ bored?

His gaze traveled
over the crowd. There were lots of pretty women all pampered and preening on
tuxedo clad arms. There were a few single women, but they, too, closely resembled
his “date” for the evening—too thin, too shiny, and too fake for his taste. He
preferred his women real, and he was all too aware of how rare those kinds were
in these circles.

He resisted the
urge to check his watch. It wouldn’t kill him to stay another hour or so until
the event broke up. Afterward, maybe he’d convince some of the other single
guys to accompany him to a bar or a club or somewhere there were women. Real
women. He knew there were places like that in Dallas, he just hadn’t been here long
enough to find one yet.

An elbow jabbed
him in the ribs, and he turned his attention back to the group.

“Isn’t that right,
Tony?” Jason asked.

What?
“Um…yeah.” He smiled. “That’s right.”

“See, I told you,
Mr. Mayor. This guy is going to make a real difference next season. We’re
excited to have him in the lineup.”

Tony didn’t have a
clue what they had been talking about. “I’m glad to be here. The Mustangs are a
great franchise, and Dallas, what I’ve seen of it, is a fantastic city.”

As he suspected,
the comment prompted the mayor into a dissertation on all the finer qualities
of his city. Antonio listened with half his brain while he planned his escape
with the other half. He eyed the main entrance to the ballroom over the mayor’s
shoulder. Ninety feet—the distance between bases. He could run it in less than
four seconds, walk it in ten.

Someone tugged on
his arm. He glanced to his left at the picture perfect face beside him
scrunched into a pout. “I’m thirsty.” Her blood red, collagen-enhanced lips
formed the words meant to either get rid of him or prove to herself she had him
where she wanted him. He couldn’t have cared less which. It was an opportunity
to get away from her for a few minutes.

Christ.
What made women think pumping chemicals into their lips was a good idea? He
extricated his arm from her perfect red claws. “I’ll get you a drink.” No need
to ask her what she wanted. She’d been drinking skinny cocktails all night.

He excused
himself. If he was lucky, she would find someone else to prop her up for the
rest of the evening. He crossed his fingers and threaded his way through the
crowd to the bar in the farthest corner where he ordered her trendy drink and a
plain soda for himself. He leaned one elbow on the high counter and waited for
the bartender to complete the order. A flash of blue near the door caught his
eye.

Holy mother of
God
.
Who. Is. That?

His skin tightened
and blood rushed south. He straightened, craning his neck to get a better look
at the goddess who had just entered the ballroom. Alone.

He’d always
thought love at first sight was a myth. Until this moment.

Now, he knew
better.

He didn’t know
what exactly drew him to her. Even from across the crowded ballroom, he could
tell her skin was creamy smooth. He silently cursed the fluorescent lighting
making it impossible to tell if the glossy mane cascading in soft waves over
her shoulders and framing her face in silk was dark brown or black. Either way,
it would look perfect fanned across the white sheets on his bed.

If she wore
makeup, it was understated, barely there at all. She smiled at someone, and
Tony’s knees almost buckled.
Damn.
Petal pink lips were such a turn-on.
He bet there were a few other places on her luscious body he would find the
same delectable color, and he vowed to taste every last one of them.

“Put your tongue
back in your mouth.” Tanner Haverford, the Mustangs short stop stepped up to
the bar, blocking Tony’s view. “You look stupid.”

Tony stepped to
the side and zeroed in on his royal blue target. “Shut up.”

She was round in
all the right places, and he had no trouble imagining how wonderful her soft
curves would feel beneath him. But there was more to his feelings than
lust—though that certainly wasn’t in doubt. He knew her on some deeper level he
didn’t pretend to understand. She was his soul mate.

The thought rocked
him back on his heels, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. His woman headed
for the silent auction tables set up around the perimeter of the room. He
studied the sway of her hips. God, he was a lucky man. He would gladly follow
that around for the rest of his life.

She paused at the
first table, and after studying the auction item, bent over the table to write
her bid on the list.

“Scotch, on the
rocks,” Tanner said to the bartender then turned to Tony. “Your drinks are
ready.”

“Take ‘em. They’re
yours.”

“What’s with you?”
His unwanted buddy turned. “Ah…I see.”

“No you don’t.
Don’t look at her. She’s mine.”

Tanner smirked.
“Good luck with that.”

He whipped his
head around. “You know her?” he growled.

“Yeah. You won’t
get anywhere with her.”

His blood boiled.
He didn’t stop to consider why he felt the way he did. He’d kill the fucker if
he had already touched her. “How would you know?”

“Whoa!” He raised
his hands in mock surrender. “Down, boy. I’m just saying. You want to tread
lightly there. She’s the organist at the stadium.”

Convenient.
Tony
took a step in her direction, and was stopped by a firm hand on his elbow.
“Hold your horses. Didn’t you hear what I said? She’s off limits, man.”

“I heard you.”

Another thought
hammered him, and he saw red. “She isn’t married, is she?”

“Nope. Single.”

Why the hell was
she single? Were these Texas men insane? “Why?”

“Maybe because
she’s—”