Harlequin Superromance March 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Secrets of Her Past\A Real Live Hero\In Her Corner (54 page)

She gave him a strange look but went on stripping the booth.

In the mall parking lot, Kyle went to get his car. The sky was low, the clouds boiling with an impending storm. He pulled out of the space in time to see Bella unlocking her bike from a post. The first fat drops splashed against his windshield. In seconds, the sky opened up, and the rain roared against the soft top of his convertible.

Bella stood with her bike under the plaza mall's overhang. She stared up at the sky infuriated, as if daring it to come down and fight her. He smiled to himself. She'd probably challenge the storm cloud if it looked at her funny.

He couldn't leave her standing there. Kyle pulled the car up next to the curb and rolled down a window. Rain splashed him violently as he stuck his head out. “Need a lift?”

“I'll be okay,” she shouted over the storm. “It's just a little rain. I'll wait for it to pass.”

Thunder crashed through the sky, making them both flinch. The rain poured down harder.

“C'mon, get in.”

“But...where am I going to put my bike?”

He was about to tell her to leave it locked up at the plaza mall, but it was a nice bike, and he didn't quite trust the neighborhood. “I'll pop the trunk.”

He got out and wished he hadn't. The rain fell so hard it hurt. An inch of water flooded the pavement and seeped into his sneakers. He was drenched by the time he walked around to the back of the car. Bella had finagled her hybrid in, but the trunk wouldn't close, so they spent another few minutes bungee cording the trunk shut and making sure it was secure.

“Hurry up and get in.” He dove into the driver's seat and they both shut their doors at the same time. Water ran off them in rivulets, dripping all over the leather interior.

Hastily, he grabbed his gym bag from the backseat and yanked out his towels and clothes. “Put these under you.”

“I'm okay, I'm not that far.”

“No, put these under you. I don't want the seats to get ruined.”

She stared at him as if he was crazy but took the towel and slipped it under her. He did the same with his T-shirt and shorts, then buckled himself in.

“You really love this car, don't you?” She pulled her ponytail back and looked as though she was about to wring it out. She must have seen his murderous look because she stopped.

“I've had this car since I was twenty-one,” he said, wiping his hands dry so he wouldn't get the leather steering wheel grip wet. He'd have to clean and wet-vac the interior after this.

“A little present to yourself after your first gold medal win?”

His lips lifted. “A gift from my father, actually. He promised he'd buy it for me if I came home with gold, and I did.”

“Ah, I see now. It's all sentimental value.”

“Are you kidding me? Do you know what kind of car this is?”

She glanced all around her, taking in the lines and surfaces, the sheer masculine perfection of the convertible. “It's...an old car. With a leaking roof.” She pointed up at the drip slowly penetrating the fabric of the soft top. Kyle almost screamed.

“Start driving,” she suggested. “It's probably a puddle gathering up top.” She poked the ceiling. Water clung to her finger and leaked down her arm.

Kyle quickly put the car into gear. She gave him directions across town to an address off Bourbon Street. The rain pounded the pavement, sending pedestrians scurrying. He was glad he'd caught Bella before she'd tried to ride home in this.

Her apartment was located above a convenience store, with an outside entrance leading onto a wraparound balcony. He helped her unload the bike and insisted on carrying it up the stairs for her.

“I can do that,” she protested. “It's slippery on these steps.”

“Which is why I should do it. The last thing either of us needs is for you to fall and hurt yourself before your match.” He carried the bike up easily and parked it on the landing. Bella locked it to the post.

“Want to come in for a cup of coffee?” she asked. “I can get you a towel, too.”

Kyle looked down at his car in the rain. If the roof was leaking, he should drive home and get it under the carport. But part of him—the part he used to listen to a lot more—said it'd be fine, that a little water wouldn't hurt. He'd have to get the interior cleaned anyhow, and the towels and clothes he'd left to soak up the excess water should handle any more drips. The rain seemed to be letting up, too. “Sounds good,” he said, even as his instincts told him he should be doing anything but following Bella into her lair.

CHAPTER SEVEN

A
S
HE
CROSSED
the threshold, instinct seized him, urging him to be cautious.

It wasn't fear, he told himself, but the topsy-turvy feeling in his chest grew as he inhaled that scent that was Bella—cinnamon, sugar, cloves and baking.

Her one-bedroom apartment was small but serviceable. Clothes were strewn on the back of the couch, over chairs, hanging off doorknobs, but she didn't rush to pick up and clear a space for him. In one corner, a fake many-armed cactus displayed an assortment of colorful underwear. “Laundry day?” he asked wryly. An electric-blue thong snagged his gaze and he was having the damnedest time not thinking about how Bella would look in it and nothing else.

“The dryers in the Laundromat up the street aren't very good. I swear they eat quarters.” She started the coffeemaker and cleared a space on the sofa, tossing him a towel from the back of a chair. “Here. It's clean. Don't worry about making anything here wet. None of it's mine.”

“It's a nice place,” he said, rubbing his hair dry. Her unique scent permeated the towel. She'd probably rubbed this towel against her naked body at some point.

Stiffly, he draped the towel across his shoulders.

“It reminds me of home.” She plucked her panties off the cactus and dropped them into her basket as if they were fruit.

Fruit of the Loom, maybe. Wokka-wokka!
Kyle smirked. His inner comedian hadn't spoken up in a long time.

“How's it like home?” he asked, refocusing on her.

“Well, the heat, for one. No A/C in here. But I like the way it feels. Lived-in. Like it's been here forever and will always be here.”

“Well, it's a pretty lucky neighborhood you picked. This was one of the areas that Katrina didn't get.”

She nodded. “So a lot of folks keep telling me. It's interesting how much people talk about it but also
don't
want to talk about it.”

He kind of got that. The ravaged landscape still hadn't totally recovered all these years later. Reminders were everywhere. And yet, those who remained were stronger than ever. He envied the people of New Orleans and wished he had half their resilience.

The coffee finished percolating, and she brought him a mug. Black and strong, the way he liked it. She puttered around her tiny kitchen, and he felt oddly content to simply sit and watch her as she put a plate of munchies together—carrot sticks, cubed cheese, cucumber slices.

He didn't want to be impolite, but a peek inside her open fridge told him she wasn't well-stocked. A proper diet was important for training. He'd seen her eat at The Spot, so it probably wasn't a money issue. Maybe she just hadn't bought groceries in a while.

“Do you have dinner plans?” he asked before he could think better of it. “I have a hankering for hush puppies.”

She gave him a strange look and glanced back at her fridge. Had he been too obvious? “I mean, we could order in,” he clarified. But that sounded weird, too. “There's a place I know that delivers real Creole food. Have you had any yet?”

She shrugged. “I've had some. Nothing to write home about.”

“Then you haven't had the real stuff. I'm buying.” He dismissed her protests with a wave of his hand as he called his favorite eatery. He had the number on his cell phone's speed dial.

“You really didn't have to do that,” Bella said once he'd hung up. “You already drove me home.”

“If you don't eat with me, the delivery boy is going to give me his pity look.”

“You mean, you can't find a nice young coed to share a rainy night in with you?”

“They don't like going out in the rain. It makes their hair frizzy.”

Bella snickered and shook her head, her own thick black curls and all their frizziness bouncing. “Their loss.”

Within the hour, the restaurant delivered five large take-out bags. Recognizing Kyle, the delivery boy's smile widened, and he gave him a sly look as his gaze slipped past him to Bella. Kyle tipped the kid and shut the door.

“How hungry are you?” Bella exclaimed as he carried the food to her kitchen. “What is all this?”

“All the best things on the menu.” He placed the bags on the table. “What can I say? I don't like doing things in half-measures, and I'm starving.”

They opened container after container, and Kyle named each of the steaming, mouthwatering dishes. Jambalaya, gumbo, hush puppies, boiled crayfish, rice and beans, and for dessert, a greasy bag of powdered-sugar-covered beignets.

“Good thing I'm below weight right now,” she said with a laugh. “Otherwise I'd have to turn down all this food.”

“Don't worry. We'll work it off somehow.” He snapped his jaw shut. He hadn't meant it to sound like a come-on. “Anyhow, you could use the calories. Today was a tough day. You can hang on to the leftovers, too. Most of this stuff is healthy...ish.”

“Twist my arm, why don't you?” She reached for a plate and loaded it up.

They chatted about the gym, keeping things light. Bella told him about some of the things Ryan had been doing for her. Apparently, her agent was working on a big sponsorship deal with Silverstreak, the energy drink company that also sponsored Dominic Payette. Kyle was instantly suspicious. It seemed pretty early in her career to get that level of sponsorship.

“So how are things with your family?” he asked casually, trying to keep conversation flowing.

Bella paused, a spoonful of rice and beans in her mouth. She chewed slowly and replied, “Fine, I guess.”

“You haven't talked to them?”

She swallowed. “I talk to my mother every night, but otherwise, no. We had a bit of a fight before I left. By
we,
I mean my grandfather and I. And when Fulvio puts his foot down, so does the rest of the family.”

“Oh.” He felt guilty for asking. He could imagine the pain this was bringing up. “I'm sorry to hear that. We can talk about something else.”

“It's okay.” She sighed. “Mom keeps me up-to-date on what's happening back home. Business as usual, according to her.” She sounded sad about that. Though she'd left
them,
knowing life went on with the rest of the clan couldn't be all that comforting to hear.

Silence dropped between them as they chewed. The air grew close, and Kyle shifted in his seat. He felt as if he were on an awkward first date. Which this wasn't.

“So, do you have a boyfriend back home?”

His eyes bulged and he slammed his lips shut, while Bella stared at him as if a roach had crawled off his tongue. Why, oh, why had he asked
that
question? “Sorry. That's too personal....”

She raised a hand, looking almost relieved to be talking about something. “I came off a long-term relationship a little over two years ago. Then I got busy training and...well, I haven't found anyone. I mean, I've gone on dates, but no one's stuck.”

Kyle's toes curled. He tried to look casual as he picked up another crayfish. “Can I ask what happened? Between you and the long-term boyfriend, I mean.” He told himself that he didn't really want to know, he was just making conversation.

Her lips curved in a small smile. “Antonio and I knew each other for years before we started dating. He was close to my brothers and trained at my grandfather's studio. He was practically part of the family. Probably would've been, too, except he wanted me to stop fighting.”

“Why?”

“He said he didn't want to see me get hurt. He kept going on about how it wouldn't look right and how our kids would be affected.” Deep furrows appeared between her eyes. “When it came right down to it, it was him or fighting. I chose fighting.”

“Your family must've been proud of you.”

She snorted. “Not even a little. Antonio left the gym after we broke up. My grandfather was furious because he'd spent years grooming him to be a Fiore teacher. And my brothers...well, Antonio was practically one of them, you know? They all thought I should've done as he wanted. They thought I was being selfish.”

“Seriously? They sided with
him?
” A tight knot in his throat kept him from saying more, which was probably a good thing. He didn't want to speak ill of the Fiores. But he didn't understand why Bella's family would disapprove of her following the family legacy.

He saw she was hurt, too. Her eyes had lost their sparkle. He wondered if it was because of her family or because of this jerk Antonio. He hoped it wasn't the latter. If the guy really had cared about her, he wouldn't have asked her to give up her dreams.

She turned her head to catch him staring. “Something bugging you?”

He startled. “What makes you say that?”

“You were cracking your jaw. You do that and rub your tension points when you're stressed.” She peered at him. “Still worrying about membership?”

He decided to divert the conversation. “A little. The numbers are up, though, which is good, and today was terrific. We have you to thank for that.”

She batted her lashes. “Aw, that's sweet of you to say.”

“It's the truth. I only sweet-talk people I'm trying to sleep with...”

He cringed. What was wrong with him? That was the old Kyle talking, the cocksure Kyle who could make a woman jump into bed on command. But Bella wasn't the type of girl to do that, and she certainly wasn't the woman he would have chosen to use that particular line on.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I should—”

She punched him in the shoulder hard enough to rock him in his seat. “Relax, Coach. I know what you meant. You don't have to play boss all the time.” She smiled broadly, picked up another boiled crayfish and ripped its head off, sucking the brain-filled cavity noisily as juice dribbled down her chin. Kyle didn't know he could be revolted and intrigued at the same time, but he was.

He didn't know what this weird feeling was—it was like dancing on the tip of a knife hanging over the edge of a skyscraper. Exciting. Dangerous. Forbidden. But he was getting too close. He couldn't make the same mistake with Bella as he had with Karla. But he also couldn't deny that he was attracted to Bella.

Why was he even still here? He'd made sure Bella had gotten home safe, fed her and stocked her fridge. He'd done way more than what was expected of a coach and an employer. The closer night crept, the more danger he put himself in.

“I should go,” he said abruptly. “I...I have some things I need to take care of.”

“Oh.” Bella looked surprised. “I'm sorry. I hope I wasn't keeping you.”

“No, no, not at all. I lost track of time. I was supposed to meet someone...”

She raised an eyebrow. “Someone who isn't afraid of frizzy hair?”

Damn, he wasn't thinking clearly. “I should get showered, cleaned up...” He was acting as if he were sneaking out after an awkward morning after. He tried for a smile. “This was fun. Thanks.”

“Hey, you paid for dinner.” She sucked the juice from her fingers with a happy grin. “Least I could've done for you was let you get to first base.”

His jaw slackened, and she laughed. “I'm joking, I'm joking! Man, Kyle, you need to lighten up. It's not as if you're
trying
to get in my pants.”

“Good night.” He bolted out and took the slick stairs two at a time, nearly slipping and going butt-first down to the ground. When he climbed into his car and slammed the door, he gripped the wheel tight and breathed deep.

His head cleared, and the southbound surge of blood eased. He did not need this. And he had to make sure his body knew it, too.

February,
he told himself.
Bree will be here soon, and then you and she can get it on like rabbits in heat.

First, a hot shower. Then he'd do exactly what he'd let Bella believe was on his agenda tonight—find himself a hot date, frizzy hair or no. If that didn't pan out, he'd go for a light jog in the cold rain and then read the gym's financials. That would kill his unwanted libido.

He turned the key in the ignition. The car sputtered.

He gave it another go. The engine whirred, coughed and died.

He sat back. No. No, not his baby. His head fell back against the headrest, making a wet, splashing sound. He glanced behind him, looked down and moaned.

An inch of water flooded the floor in the backseat.

* * *

“Y
OU
'
VE
GOT
TO
be kidding me.”

It wasn't the reaction Hadrian had hoped for. From the moment Quinn had spotted him waiting for her at the airport arrivals terminal, she wore an expression that danced between pleasant confusion and dismay. “If you're worried about being recognized with me, don't worry—this is a private rental.”

“Yeah, but a
limo?
” The driver of the white stretch limousine smilingly took her rolling carry-on from her and placed it in the trunk. “You couldn't have come in a cab?”

“I have long legs,” he said, keeping his smile bright despite the dimming happiness inside him. “Besides, what good is money if I don't spend it?”

She gave him that look—the one that told him she was neither impressed nor happy; the look that said she'd suffer his attention but only because he was so damned good in bed it was hard to say no.

“Hop in,” he said, shooing the driver away from the door. He wanted to be the one to attend to her.

He watched her shapely behind shimmy in, and despite the poor fit of The Suit, he couldn't help reaching out and giving her butt a light slap before crawling in after her.

“Back to my place, Jeeves,” he told the driver before rolling up the privacy screen.

Quinn was busy opening and closing every compartment in the limo. She'd done the same thing when she'd first entered his home. Compulsively curious, she couldn't help but stick her nose in every room and cupboard. He thought it was adorable, even if her insatiable curiosity was sometimes inconvenient when it came to his business or personal history.