Team Niklas (The Saints Team #3) (8 page)

Chapter 10

I turned around in the mirror and looked at my outfit
from all angles… I was going for the Stevie Nicks Bohemian style—I remember it
from Mom’s record album covers: a fitted top billowing out from the hips into a
full-flowing skirt in black velvet, a red and gold shawl, black platform boots
and a black velvet bolero. I was going to go the French beret but it just
wasn’t right. I loved that feminine look and no-one did it like Stevie. I guess
I was ready but I felt sick with nerves, and my stomach was somersaulting.

Nik was due any minute—okay fine,
he had won, but I really wanted to go out for a good meal, that’s it, no
expectations or anything heavy. I hadn’t been to
Lanterne
French
restaurant before, it was Nik’s pick. And then I heard the knock at the door.
Breathe, I told myself, and move towards the door and answer it.
Right I can
do this.

I opened the door and my eyes grew
huge; he was divine. He looked good enough to eat in a light wool blend,
two-piece gray suit with a single breasted jacket and flat front trousers. He
completed the look with a crisp white shirt, open at the neck, no tie and
polished black leather lace-ups. Clearly the suit I was repairing for him
wasn’t his only one. He smelled absolutely divine. He stepped in and before he
could kiss me, I touched his jacket.

“Is that a Hugo Boss suit?” I
asked, circling him and looking at the cut as he walked further into the room.

“Hi Sah-sha.” His lips curled into
a smile.

“Oh, hi Nik.”

He laughed, leaned towards me and
kissed me hello. Give up, really, resistance was futile, I was a goner. Crap.

“I think so.” He shrugged.

“What?” I said, losing all
rational thought.

“I think it is a Hugo Boss,” he
said. “I had to wear it for a photo shoot, for a sponsor. I really liked it so
I just got my manager to buy it.”

Really, he thinks it’s a Boss?
That suit cost more than I earned in three months. It was made for Nik, just
perfect. Yep such is the life of a mega sports star, I think I’ll just get my
manager to whip out and buy some of my favorite designer labels, sigh! Why
wasn’t I good at sport? I wasn’t bad at gymnastics but I couldn’t earn a living
from it.

He took my hand and twirled me
under his arm in a smooth dance move, watching as my dress swirled.

“You look beautiful, Sah-sha,” he
said, softly, “just beautiful, so feminine and graceful.”

I smiled. “It’s just something I
had…” I never knew what to say to compliments like that. I’m hoping that
covered it.

He rolled his eyes.

“Thank you,” I said, and he nodded
with a smile.

“Shall we go?” he asked.

“Yes, see you soon Prada,” I told
my pussycat and I grabbed my bag. This was the first time we were going to go
in his car together, the first time we would walk into a restaurant together,
the first official date. I locked up and we took the stairs to the street. He
opened the car door for me and then came around and slid in beside me. There’s
something super sexy about sitting next to man in charge, watching him drive,
his hands on the wheel, his command of everything. I particularly loved a
sports watch on a man… don’t know what that is about but it turns me on no end.
I think I just orgasmed.

“Have you been to
Lanterne
before?” he asked.

“No. You?”

He shook his head. “Your pick next
time, Sah-sha,” he said.

There was going to be a next time?
That was optimistic. We had to through tonight first.

“I have a list of numbers should
we need them tonight,” I said, “the doctor, physio, ambulance… and I can do the
Heimlich maneuver.”

Nik put his head back and laughed,
so fucking handsome.

“Any chance we’re the same blood
types?” he asked. “I’m B-negative.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course you
would be something special. Luckily I’m an O-type and everyone can have O-type.”

“Well we’ll be right then,” Nik
said. “How did The Russian go on radio today?”

I told him as we drove, eventually
turning into the restaurant parking lot. He parked, leaped out and came around
to open my door. He offered me his hand, helped me out of the car and took my
hand as we walked along the boardwalk to the entrance. We didn’t get far before
he was recognized and half a dozen fans asked for autographs and photos. I
nodded for Nik to do it and he obliged them. He took my hand again and I saw
the snap of flashes. It looked like we were going to be in the social pics.

A look of annoyance crossed his
face. “I’m sorry,” he said shielding me and opening the restaurant door. We
huddled in.

 “It’s okay,” I said, and I gave
him a small smile. I wasn’t big on my life being out there, that’s why I’m a
journalist; I ask the questions not the other way around. But I didn’t want Nik
to see that, I could feel edginess coming off him in waves.

The maître d’ greeted us at the
door and apologized for the fuss outside. I don’t know how they knew Nik would
be there. Maybe he should have booked under an alias.

The maître d’ showed us to a table
in the corner. It had a view of the restaurant but could not be seen from the
windows. Nik saw me into my seat then sat down opposite. I could see people in
the restaurant checking us out and then I forgot them as his legs entwined
around mine under the table. I took my hat off and ruffled up my hair a bit.

 Nik took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I shouldn’t have booked in my
name, sorry. I forget sometimes… it’s surreal… the publicity and…” His voice
trailed off.

“Really, it’s no big deal,” I
assured him.

Then he got to the crux of it. “I
know you don’t like that. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. We can make this
work…”

I took his hand. “Nik, really, I’m
not worried, it’s all good.” Wow, I must have given him the impression I’m a
real flight risk.

He frowned as he read my face then
nodded. We sat in silence as the waiter brought us water and two menus.

“Will you have champagne?” Nik
asked me.

“In a French restaurant; of
course,” I said. “You order please.”

Nik smiled and glanced at the wine
list. He gave the waiter an order and I found it on my list. Holy fuck, I truly
can’t afford to eat or drink here. Well I could, but I’d rather spend three
hundred dollars on fabric than a meal for one. Nik must have read my expression
because he lowered the menu and his voice.

“Sah-sha, I know you are
independent and have your own career and life, but you must allow me to pay
tonight, ja?” he said.

I frowned and opened my mouth to
protest.

“No. I’ve invited you to dinner. You
are my guest, I’m paying, I’m always paying even when you invite me to dinner,”
he whispered. “And there is no obligation, no pay back, nothing. I just want
your company.”

“As much as I’d like to live off
you Nik and eat you broke, it hardly seems fair,” I said.

Nik grinned. “You have invested
time making yourself look beautiful tonight, let me repay the favor. Are we in
agreeance?”

I really struggled with this; I
didn’t want to be bought and I didn’t want to take advantage of him even though
I know the cost of this meal was a drop in the ocean for him.

“Please Sah-sha, it’s a simple
request that would give me pleasure,” he said.

I nodded. “Thank you, Nik, I
accept.”

He smiled as though he had won the
lottery, funny guy.

“So…” I lifted my menu, “do you
know what’s good?”

“Yes I do, and I think we should
order very different dishes so we can share. Do you share?” he asked.

“Oh I share,” I said, and he
smiled again. I wished I could have sex with him right now, get it out of my
system and then I could concentrate on eating. I’d have a bigger appetite then.
He shuffled in his seat. I wonder if Nik was thinking the same thing. What the
heck, I’m direct, let’s put it out there. I closed my menu and leaned towards him.

“It’s very hard to concentrate on
food when all I can think about is your naked body on top of mine,” I said.

Nik’s mouth fell open and he shut
it abruptly and swallowed.

I continued, “I wish we could do
it right now on this table, just fuck each other silly, then have a really nice
glass of champagne afterwards and dine. I’m always hungry after sex,” I told
him.

He made this growling sound in his
throat and slowly shut the menu. He lowered his voice to match mine.

“Sah-sha, what the fuck am I
supposed to do with that information?” He exhaled. “Now I’m as hard as a rock
and all the blood has rushed to my dick.”

I grinned and opened my menu.
“Just saying,” I told him.

With one finger, he pulled the
menu down that I held in front of me. “You are wicked, Sah-sha, wicked.” He sat
back looking much more uncomfortable in his chair. Lucky the tablecloths were
really long because the toe of my boot gently found his erection under the
table. I swear he jumped a foot.

The waiter appeared with the
champagne, showed Nik the label and skillfully popped it open, and poured two
glasses. Nik’s eyes returned to me, never leaving my face, his breathing
slightly jagged. I smiled at him, thanked the waiter and raised a glass.

“To good health,” I said, offering
my favorite toast.

Nik picked up his glass. “To
beauty,” he said, and clinked it against mine.

The champagne was delicious: dry,
cold and bubbly. Nik cleared his throat and returned to the menu looking most
uncomfortable.

“So how do you know what is good
if you haven’t been here?” I asked.

“I asked my manager. He did his
research and told me.”

“Really, he gets paid for that?”

“He didn’t mind bringing his wife
here a few times and trying it out. He calls it a bonus.” Nik shrugged. “So,”
he glanced down the menu, “he suggests… oh fuck it, I can’t think now.”

I gave him a smile and he shook
his head and smiled darkly at me. He threw the menu down. “I’m ruined,” he
declared.

 *****

Eventually we managed to order and it was good, so good.
Nik’s phone pinged a few times during the meal, he apologized and put it on
silent. I was so impressed. I wondered who it was… some chick?

After coffee, I went to the ladies
and he paid while I was away. I love that too. Some paparazzi awaited us as we
came out and again he rushed me to the car and saw me in, returning to his
side.

“Why do they do that?” he asked,
“who cares that we’re dining out?”

“People love gossip,” I said, with
a shrug. “Just ask The Russian.”

“Yeah, he loves the inside scoop.
He’s been pumping me since I got here,” Nik agreed.

“Thank you, for dinner, for
tonight, it was wonderful,” I said sincerely to him.

“The pleasure is mine. Didn’t I
tell you it would be great,
Süsse
?” Nik started
the car and pulled out of the parking lot. As we drove, he reached across and
held my hand; good thing it was an automatic car.

I felt such a heady rush; I wish
it could always be like this. I know loved deepened and the relationship
developed if it was meant to, but there was nothing like first date excitement.

“What are you up to tomorrow?” he
asked.

“I’m doing gym in the morning,
then Max and I are going to a fashion designer exhibition and I’m doing
Saffron’s wedding dress tomorrow night. She’s coming around for another
fitting,” I said. I didn’t want to move too fast or be on tap for Nik; there
were plenty of girls on hand to do that.

“Any catwalk flips?” he teased,
with a glance towards me.

“I’ll probably fit four or five
in. And you?” I asked.

“No, and no handstands, but I’m training
in the morning, then Lucas invited me around to watch the game, and I need to
get some clothes soon, but I can’t face it,” he said. “Will you shop with me?”

“Hell yeah,” I said, way too
enthusiastically, “but we can’t do it now until next spare weekend.”

“I can wait,” he said.

“Alice said you had only one
suitcase of clothes with you when you moved in. Seriously, is that it?” I
asked.

Nik nodded. “I’ll need to speak
with Alice, she’s infiltrating my spy ring and giving away secrets.”

I laughed. This man was so gorgeous
and I was going to shop with him!

“So you are too busy for me
tomorrow,” he said, sadly.

“You can’t talk,” I ribbed him.
“You’re spending the afternoon with Lucas.”

“I’d drop Lucas in a heartbeat
Sah-sha, to spend time with you. Besides, last few times we’ve travelled, Lucas
and I have had to share a room—we get plenty of bonding time,” he teased. “He
spends a long time in the bathroom.”

“Mm, that’s good information to
store,” I said.

“I didn’t tell you that,” Nik
said.

I wished the drive home was longer.
We were almost there. I can’t believe I was saying that—I’m such a yo-yo.

“What time will you get to the
match on Sunday?” he asked.

“I help in the VIP membership area
from about ten and then I head to the media box before eleven. The journos
don’t get in too early. What about you?”

“Ah… eleven-thirty start, so I’ll
be there after nine or so to get strapped and psyched. Are you going to the
Shaken
Not Stirred
bar afterwards?” he asked. Nik was getting his weekend sorted.

“Nope, I never do.”

“Why?” he asked, glancing towards
me. “I thought you’d be a party girl.”

I shook my head. “I don’t go where
the players go. I leave that to the groupies and girlfriends. Some of my
friends and I go to the
Ska Bar
.”

“I like ska music! But I don’t
know that place,” he said. “I have to see you Sunday.”

“Then let’s lock it in,” I agreed,
and he visibly relaxed. This man was going to be the end of me. What a way to
go. He pulled into my apartment block.