Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) (41 page)

She squeaked like a little mouse popping out
of her hole and straight into a cat's paws. Scrambling sideways,
she made a halfhearted attempt to escape him. Her breath whooshed
out when he caught her with an arm across her stomach.

"Dean!" She giggled. "You don't want to
punish me! You hate punishing me!"

"No. I hated punishing you last night." He
bit her earlobe hard enough to draw another squeak. "I'm going to
enjoy this."

* * * *

Blueprints covered the desk in the new hotel
room. Silver had brought them along so she'd be prepared for the
meeting when she got home, figuring she'd have plenty of time to go
over the designer's suggestions. She hadn't planned to need
anything to keep her busy when they reached LA—seriously, this had
been her home for years! She had friends to visit and beloved
sights to see!

But this wasn't home anymore. Dean was right.
She
had
changed. And she didn't feel like she belonged here
anymore.

Not that I really belong anywhere.

"Stop that." Sucking her teeth, she set down
her pink highlighter and pushed away from the desk. Her phone sat
on top of her files like an ugly black bug—a cockroach, buzzing in
a way that filled her with dread. Oriana had already called once
today, just to make sure she was doing okay, so it wasn't her. And
Landon wouldn't call—not that she wanted him to.

Only one person could be calling her now.
Daddy.

Three days in a row—a new record. Not that it
should surprise her that he was showing interest. He wanted to make
sure she wasn't doing anything else that would jeopardize his
team.

Bracing herself, she picked up her phone and
answered. "Hello, Daddy."

"Tell me you're not with Dean."

She cringed. Every time he'd called, Dean had
been nearby to cut the call short. She didn't need him to protect
her from her father, but the way he supported her made her
feel—well, whole again. A few short words from her father could
shatter her, but a single touch, a look, from Dean, built her right
back up.

He can't be with you all the time, wimp.

Her eyes pressed shut. "No. He's not
here."

"Good. He's finalizing a trade for a new
defenseman. I don't need you distracting him."

"I know, Daddy. He told me. And we've already
agreed he'd handle that side of the business." She glanced at the
blueprints. "Actually, I'm working on some of those renovations you
asked me to look into—"

"Good. That's what you should be doing." He
actually sounded pleased. "Make everything pretty, my little doll.
Just not too pretty. You can do that, right?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Wonderful." He paused. "And when you get
home, I'd like you to end things with Richter. I'm not sure why
you'd even want to mess around with a man like him—he's not
interested in your party life and you can't pretend to be his type
of woman for long, can you, my dear?"

Her eyes stung. "I'm not pretending."

"Of course you are. It took me awhile to
realize it, but you do have some skill as an actress. He'll see
through you soon enough. Imagine the damage it will do to the team
if you drag this out."

He's wrong, he's wrong, he's wrong!
She hit her thigh with her fist. "I love him!"

"I seriously doubt that. You're like your
mother, Silver. You love his power. His money. Not that you need
either, I've given you more than enough, but your mother was the
same way. Always wanting more. The only person she ever loved was
herself."

"That's not true! She loved us. Antoine,
Oriana, me, and you!" A lead ball lodged in her throat, heavy,
hard, impossible to swallow. "You didn't know her and you don't
know me!"

He laughed and she swore she could hear him
clapping. "Emmy worthy, my little doll—"

Doll. That's what he always called me. How
he always saw me. And mom.
Something inside her snapped. "I'm
not a fucking doll!"

"Watch your tone, young lady," he said, his
tone cold. "You will show me the respect I deserve."

"Fine." She held up the phone and pressed
end. Her eyes widened and she tripped backwards, dropping the phone
as she fell.
Oh my god! I just hung up on Daddy.

But he deserved it. He shouldn't have said
those things about her mother. He could be so . . . .so . . .

She couldn't find a word for it. But she did
know one thing.

That was the last call she'd be accepting
from her
father
for a very long time.

The decision made her feel a little stronger,
but she couldn't seem to stop shaking. She crawled to the desk and
grabbed her purse. Took out a pack of Twizzlers and a lollypop.
Then her vial.

I don't want this. I don't need it.

It took all her candy and five packets of
sugar from the coffee tray on the little buffet, but she finally
regained control of her body and her cravings. Decided to take a
little nap.

And fell asleep to the images of white powder
coating glass.

* * * *

Harsh charcoal grey suit and a stark white
shirt. Dean's welcoming smile froze on his face as Silver
approached. Too controlled. Too well put together. She did
professional well, but this was more. Her fake green eyes
shimmered. Delicate armor that fit so well, that wouldn't shatter,
but that probably should before she got too comfortable in it.

But until he figured out why she'd pulled it
on, he had to tread carefully. He moved away from the agent,
extending his hand to her. "Miss Delgado. I was hoping you'd join
us."

Silver took his hand and smiled her
transparent, crimson lipped smile. "Silver please, Dean. I hope you
don't mind, but it's too late in the evening for formalities."

Good. At least she isn't pulling away from
me.
He held onto her hand a moment longer than necessary,
searching her face for a clue to how to best proceed. Nothing. She
was looking at the man he'd been speaking to in the lobby outside
the bar with polite interest.

"This is John Keeton. The agent to the player
I signed tonight." Dean drew Silver to his side before releasing
her hand so she could shake hands with Keeton. "John, this is
Silver Delgado."

"A pleasure," Keeton said, clasping her
fingers and grinning. "I like the direction the team is taking with
you at the helm. It gives players like Ramos the opportunity to get
the exposure they deserve. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know he'll
agree to any publicity or charity work you come up with. He's very
committed to his job."

"That's good to know." Silver withdrew her
hand and glanced over at Dean. "I hope you were about to go into
the bar to celebrate our latest acquisition. I'd love a drink."

There, just a slight tension around her eyes.
He'd rather speak to her about whatever was bothering her than let
her drown it, but a drink or two to help her relax wouldn't
hurt.

"We were." He held out his arm and she put
her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Martini or beer?"

She let out a twinkling laugh and shook her
head. "Champagne is more appropriate, but I was thinking
Bourbon."

Bourbon?
Dean frowned. His little sub
certainly wasn't a light drinker.

John chuckled, looking absolutely charmed. "A
lady after my own heart. Let's find a booth near the door so Ramos
can find us when he's done speaking to the coach."

They took their seats in the booth and waited
for their drinks, chatting about the recent suspensions and some of
Silver's plans for the team's exposure. The magazine spread she
mentioned spurred a fierce debate, in which John took her side, but
despite Dean's need to defend his team's integrity, he loved the
fire he saw in her eyes as she brought up all her points like
parries in sword play. He argued fiercely until she stood and
pointed at him as though about to make the killing thrust.

"Know your role and shut your mouth!" Her
eyes sparkled with amusement. "I don't need your permission. Most
aren't nude photos. Get over it!"

"
Most?
"
She's joking. Or she better
be.
"I can't see you getting any players—except Demyan
perhaps—to pose naked."

"They'd be artistic shots. And you have no
idea what men with big egos will do." She paused and smirked.
"Scratch that. Actually, I was thinking a shot or two of you
might—"

"Silver, that is
not
funny." Actually,
it was. But he wasn't about to encourage her. "There's absolutely
no need to promote me."

"Well . . . ." John smirked and leaned across
the table with his tumbler between his hands. "With a team as new
as the Cobras, it makes sense to use every asset you have. You're a
good looking man, Richter. Why not exploit your virtues? I know
I'd
enjoy seeing you in a centerfold."

An uncomfortable silence followed John's
words. His sexual leanings were no secret. And he was fairly
aggressive in his pursuits. To the point that he'd lost several
players because of his advances. From the little Dean knew about
him, the man considered a straight man one who hadn't met him.

Dean arched a brow when Silver leaned into
him and ran her hand up his thigh.

"Are you hitting on my man, John?" She
brought her glass to her lips and licked the rim. "Because if you
are, I have to warn you, I don't care what sex you are. I'll slap
you down like a bitch."

John lifted his glass and inclined his head.
"I apologize. I didn't realize you'd staked a claim."

"I have." Silver held her glass out to chime
it with John's. "Just don't do it again."

The whole thing seemed very backwards. Dean
shook his head and grunted as Silver's hand slid up to his crotch.
Damn if he didn't feel like a piece of meat being claimed by an
alpha wolf. Shouldn't it be him guarding his territory, rather than
the other way around?

Then again, Silver never made him feel like
he had to fight for her. She made him feel like here, and now, she
belonged to him. But how long would that last? What they had
between them was new and exciting. If he didn't keep it fresh,
she'd get bored. And he'd lose her.

Then step it up, Richter.
His lips
curved in a slow smile as he brought his lips to Silver's throat.
"I'm afraid you offer nothing that this woman can't give me, John.
But I'm flattered."

"You should be." John chuckled and set his
glass on the table. "Ah. Finally. Sebastian Ramos, I would like you
to meet your new GM and owner. Dean Richter and Silver
Delgado."

A large man with sleek, long black hair and
dark brown eye stood by Silver and gave her a hooded look. "Silver.
I was hoping to speak with you this evening. I was taken aback by
your offer, but once I considered, I realized you needed time to
accept that part of yourself. And now that you have, I am eager to
continue where we left off."

The man had a thick accent, as though English
wasn't his first language. Dean observed him, taking in the smooth,
alluring tone of his voice and matching it with the Latino appeal.
Big, buff, and attractive. Silver's pulse quickened against his
fingers. She knew this man. Very well. And something about him
either frightened or aroused her.

By her expression, he figured the mind
numbing, raw attraction likely scared her. And the dominance the
man wielded so easily. Bower would be his first choice for
exploring her clear desire for a ménage. Being with two gay men
wasn't an accident—perhaps a miscalculation on her part, but Silver
wasn't a one man woman. Dean had accepted that, but perhaps he'd
been too close minded. Maybe the other man wouldn't be her dear
friend. Maybe it could be Ramos.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you in
person, Ramos." Dean smiled, trying to keep his face relaxed even
though he didn't know this man and something inside him objected to
letting him anywhere near Silver. "Please join us."

* * * *

"Sebastian." Silver whispered as her mouth
went dry. Hair rose on the nap of her neck and she found herself
leaning forward slightly, though she managed to keep one hand in
Dean's and the other fisted at her side. Even though her fingers
tingled with the memory of his soft hair, which still spilled in
dark brown waves past his massive shoulders. Even though the way he
looked at her made her want to lay her wrist in his palm.

Sebastian looked over her, to Dean. "May
I?"

Dean must have nodded, because Sebastian
moved even closer to her.

"I would like to say hello to you properly.
Come to me, muñeca." The smooth, dark olive flesh of his face
creased around his lips and eyes as he held out his hand. "Do not
be afraid."

Her lips tingled. She knew exactly how he
wanted to say hello. And shamefully, parts of her were heating up,
eager to greet him. All she had to do was stand and let him take
control. She'd bolted once, but she wouldn't this time. Not with
Dean right there to keep her safe.

"It's okay, my love," Dean said softly, his
lips brushing her ear. "Do whatever feels right."

Giving in felt right. It had the first time
she met him, until he cuffed her wrists together and she realized
if she didn't get away she'd completely surrender.

No. I don't want to.
She swallowed and
the grip on her hand tightened a little.

"Silver, speak to me." Dean curved his hand
under her chin and turned her to face him. "Ah, I see. Why don't
you go for a walk, sweetie? I'll meet you outside by the fountain
in a few minutes."

Don't need to tell me twice.
Sebastian
had already stepped aside, so there was nothing keeping her from
making a beeline straight for the terrace. She skirted by a
waitress and a group of business men who moved after she quietly
said 'excuse me'. None leered at her, which was weird until she
realized she wasn't dressed sexy at all. She looked presentable.
Mature. Like a woman who could run a franchise like the Dartmouth
Cobras.