What a Woman Wants (A Manley Maids Novel) (12 page)

Sean exhaled. Long and loud. “Look, I’ll come up with something, but I’m not going to lose Lee and Bry’s investment. They believe in me; I
have
to deliver.”

Her heart ached for him. He’d always had it tougher than the other two. Middle child, second son, learning problems in school, always acting out . . . Sean had had to claw and scrape for everything he had, unlike Liam, who things came easy to, or Bryan, who’d had that face since birth and women coming on to him shortly thereafter. Things came easy to those two, but Sean? He’d had to work as hard as she did.

And with what she’d pulled at the poker game, did she really have any room to call him on what he was thinking of doing?

“You can’t leave her high and dry, Sean. She has to get something out of this. It’s not fair.”

“I know, Mac. And I don’t want to hurt Livvy. I have two weeks. I’m working on finding a solution. I have no intention of letting her walk away with nothing. I’m not a heartless bastard, just a desperate one. You think I like doing this to her? She’s a nice person. Merriweather caused this, not me. But I can’t walk away from the millions of dollars in earning potential, not to mention the money I’ve already invested.”

“And Manley Maids. You have to make sure my reputation is intact.”

“I promise. I’ll do what needs to be done to make sure your name isn’t harmed.”

“I don’t like it.”

“That makes three of us because I can guarantee you she’s not going to, either.”

S
EAN
stared at his laptop screen again. The numbers didn’t lie. They also didn’t add up. No matter what he’d promised Mac, he couldn’t hit the benchmarks he needed to if he paid Livvy more money—if he could even come up with it. Maybe she’d be willing to sell it to him for Merriweather’s price.

But why should she? She didn’t owe him anything.

He skimmed the list of potential investors he’d compiled. It was either them or asking Livvy to take the lesser amount, and he really didn’t want to risk showing his hand in the event she said no.

God, he was so sick of the poker reference.

He shut down the computer and pulled on a T-shirt, damn glad to be out of his uniform, and headed to the racquetball court with Liam. He’d research the clue he and Livvy had found when he got back, because if he had to stay in this house one more minute, he’d go nuts.

This whole scenario was driving him nuts.

And so was Orwell, who swooped into his room and landed on his shoulder. “
Oops, did it again
!”

The bird was either mimicking a pop star or it’d done something Sean really didn’t want to know about. But, of course, in morbid dread he asked, “What did you do, Orwell?”

The bird’s answer was the next line about playing with someone’s heart.

Not
the song Sean needed right now. Wasn’t there a line in it about getting lost in a game?

Sean transferred the parrot to his hand and strode down the hall toward Livvy’s open door to return Orwell to his rightful caretaker.

He was already through it when he realized he should have knocked.

She walked out of the bathroom in a towel before she realized he was in the room.

Orwell went into a rendition of Donna Summers’s “Bad Girls” that Sean did not need to hear.

“Orwell!” Livvy’s face turned as red as her hair and she held out her hand for the parrot. The movement loosened her towel and she had to scramble to keep all parts covered.

Talk about a shame.

Sean finally remembered to turn around. “Oh, sorry. The door was open and I didn’t think . . .”

“Actually, it was closed. Orwell hates to be caged in, but I didn’t think he’d see the room as a cage. And I certainly didn’t know he knew how to operate a latch. That’s going to make things, um, interesting.”

“Okay, then, I’ll leave you to . . .” He waved his hand behind him. “I’ve got a racquetball game tonight, so I’ll see you later.”

“You play racquetball?”

Keep moving, Manley.

Of course he didn’t. “Yeah.”

“I haven’t played racquetball in years.”

Walk out now, Manley.
“You play?”

“Not very well. But we had a court at school and I enjoyed it.”

Sean squeezed his eyes shut for a second. He didn’t need this temptation. He so didn’t.

But he turned around anyway. “You want to come?”

“You sure you wouldn’t mind?”

Oh, he’d mind. The entire time she was running around the court in shorts and a T-shirt that wouldn’t hide a single thing, with sweat running all over her body, her skin pink from the exertion, he’d mind. A
lot
.

He’d mind that all that exertion wasn’t for him, and that he couldn’t peel her T-shirt and shorts from her body and slick his hands over her silky skin—

“No. Not at all. I’ll call Liam and see if he can find someone else for a foursome.”

There was a word—and an image—he didn’t need.

He was going to have to wear an athletic cup for tonight’s game because nylon shorts wouldn’t hide his reaction to her any more than those stupid work pants did.

He had a feeling nothing would when it came to Livvy.

Y
OU
brought
Cassidy
?” Sean didn’t know whether to laugh or be horrified. Cassidy Davenport, Liam’s client, was the only person he could imagine who’d be more out of place on a racquetball court than Livvy.

Liam unzipped his racquetball bag, then put on his glove. “It’s not like I had a lot of time to come up with someone else, and she overheard.”

Sean looked over to where the girls were warming up. “She’s in pink. Rhinestones.”

“Tell me about it.” Liam rolled his eyes.

Sean decided to laugh because poor Lee hated pink as much as he hated rhinestones. Probably more than any guy alive. But then, he had reason to.

“She does know that this is a sport, right? That you get hot and sweaty and the makeup will slide off her face?”

“If she doesn’t, she soon will. That could make this whole thing worthwhile.” Liam slung his racket over his shoulder. “Any progress with the gypsy chick?”

Sean had to laugh at himself this time. He’d thought he’d have to worry about Livvy in tight shorts and a T-shirt, not some skirt thing that flared over her hips with beads dangling from it and a flouncy shirt that he was half afraid was going to fly up if she switched direction too fast. A workout outfit only in Livvy’s world, but she said she hadn’t been planning to need one during her sojourn at the estate, so this would have to do. Thank God, she’d at least had sneakers; those combat boots she was so fond of would have had her breaking an ankle on the first play.

“We’re following the clues. Tomorrow we’re chasing down baby cradles.”

Liam arched an eyebrow. “You realize that’s a dangerous line of thought around any woman, right?”

Sean ignored the stirring in his dick. “Trust me; it’s not an issue.”

“Famous last words.” Liam exhaled. “Come on. Let’s get this torture over with.”

And torture it was. Sean found himself looking at Livvy’s backside more than he did the ball. And Liam, for all his disgusted attitude with the tall, pink, frothy milkshake that was
his
client, was just as easily distracted, missing the return to Livvy’s serve.

“Woo hoo! Score one for me!” Livvy came bouncing over to Sean to high five him in all her bouncy glory.

Good lord, to hell with the cup he should have worn; she needed a sports bra. Several of them. Because the one she had on might as well not even have been there, and that’s if she even had one on. He could see her nipples beneath her shirt.

“Sean?”

He shook his head. “Yeah?”

“Aren’t you excited?”

Like she wouldn’t believe. “Sorry?”

“We’re winning.”

“Oh. Right.” He smacked her palm with his. “But it’s still a long way to go to fifteen.”

“And don’t get too comfortable with a one-point lead. Cass and I will have you eating our dust,” Liam grumbled as he tossed Sean the ball.

“Cass-i-dy, Liam. I don’t like Cass.”
Ms.
Davenport tucked her already tucked-in, figure-hugging, baby-pink T-shirt into her white shorts. She ought to be more concerned with the rhinestones ringing the neckline because Sean could just see them bouncing all over the floor if someone ran into her.

The look on Liam’s face as she corrected him said Lee might actually do that. “Serve, Sean,” he said between gritted teeth.

Yeah, it was going to be a long game.

A sweaty one, too. The girls were, for all their inappropriate clothing, pretty athletic. Livvy made those beads bounce and sway as she covered the court, returning the rally before there was a second bounce. He was suitably—and surprisingly—impressed.

“You need a break, yet, Cass?” Liam had been using that nickname ever since Cassidy said she didn’t like it. Sean could have told her that would happen. Cassidy was the exact type Liam had learned to
not
appreciate, and shame on Mac for pairing him up with her. His last serious girlfriend had been just like Cassidy: a woman who’d looked to the men in her life to take care of her. They’d all wondered why Liam had been so whipped but hadn’t said anything to him. It was the Bro-Code. Unless they caught a girlfriend cheating or something equally as awful, they supported their brother’s choice. So when she’d turned out to actually have someone on the side that they all hadn’t realized, it’d come as a huge blow to Lee, and he’d sworn off women ever since. It was just cruel of Mac to give him the most high-maintenance client she had.

“Sean, you gonna serve it or stare at it? I don’t have all night, you know.”

Liam was lunging from side to side and twirling his racket handle in his palm as if this were a high-stakes game.

“Come on, Sean. I’m ready.” Livvy smiled at him and Sean wanted to show her just how ready
he
was—

Okay, so maybe there were some pretty high stakes.

She looked so damn adorable. And sexy as hell. And that combination was guaranteed to suck his brain out through his—

He served.

And fell short.

“One more, Sean,” Lee growled triumphantly behind him. “You lose the serve, you can kiss this game good-bye.”

Sean didn’t, managing to get his head in the game just enough, and he and Livvy scored another two points before the serve changed teams.

“Ladies first.” Liam swept his arm wide toward Cassidy and bounced her the ball. “Let’s show these two how it’s done,
Cass
.”

She glared at him through her rhinestone-studded—of course—protective glasses.

But she had a wicked serve and Sean had to concentrate on returning it. Then Liam got in on the act and suddenly the game became cutthroat. Sean might have been amazed the girls were keeping up if he had time to be amazed. The rally came at him fast and furious. Cassidy was no slouch in the racquetball department, but poor Livvy was out of her league.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered as she cost them their fourth consecutive point. “I guess I’m a lot rustier than I thought.”

Sean patted her on the shoulder. “Buck up. We’re only two points down.”

“Yeah, but we were up four.”

“We’ll come back.”

“If you say so.”

He tried to get them within a point or two, but Liam-on-a-mission and country-club-racquetball-team-member Cassidy barely gave up the serve. The third time they did, Sean could swear a look passed between them—and it wasn’t the antagonistic ones they’d started out with.

“Come on, Liv, perk up,” he whispered as he walked behind her to take his spot on the backcourt. “You’re doing great.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “I’d hate to see your definition of
bad
if you think this is great.”

He had to hand it to her, though; she didn’t give up. She kept running all over that court, taking a couple of shoulders to the wall when her momentum kept her moving forward. She was going to have some nasty bruises.

And he wanted to kiss each one.

“Score!” Liam raised his arms and whooped it up when Sean missed the rally. Cassidy was jumping up and down, something he’d normally enjoy if a) he wasn’t losing, b) Liam wasn’t looking so interested in that jumping, and c) Livvy weren’t so down about their point count.

He dropped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Liv, we can do this. Think back to what we did at the beginning. We were on top. Let’s go back to whatever it was we were doing then and turn this thing around. I know we can.”

She looked up at him under her lashes and Sean was struck by how long they were. And that they weren’t brown like he’d thought, but more of a rust color. No, not rust. Wine. Yes, that’s it. They were wine colored. Just like her hair. It wasn’t your typical shade of red; it had some brown and some orange and maybe even some blonde through it. It looked like a shimmery mass of wine-colored curls pulled back into a ponytail with a few errant ones that escaped to twist damply against her jaw. Her throat. The back of her neck . . .

“
Can
we do it, Sean?”

They could do
it
and whatever else she wanted anytime she wanted—

“Uh, yeah.” He dropped his arm. “We can beat them.” Right. Them. Cassidy and Liam. The other team. In the game. Racquetball. “We just have to focus.”

On the game. On the racquet. On the ball. Nothing more.

“You’re going down, Sean.” Liam had a wicked gleam in his eye and a cocky grin on his face. “Ready to cry like a baby?”

“Bring it on, bro.” He braced his feet apart, put some bend in his knees, and waited for Liam’s serve.

It was fast and it was powerful and Sean relished the chance to smash something. He drove the ball into the back wall with enough force to shoot it between Liam and Cassidy with so much momentum that he was glad one of them hadn’t been in its path.

Cassidy hit it after the bounce with just enough power to almost put it out of Livvy’s reach.

Livvy lunged, saving the rally at the last second as she took a dive to the floor.

Sean wanted to run over at her
oomph
, but Liam wasn’t backing down. Of course, none of the brothers ever did when it came to sports, but Lee seemed to have forgotten that they were playing with women this time, and spiked that ball so hard, it whistled as it flew toward him.

Sean took the shot, feeling the power reverberate up his arm despite the give in the racket and the absorption of his glove.

Then it was Cassidy’s turn and once again, she returned it smoothly. Even looked good doing it. Did they teach that at boarding school or finishing school or wherever it was that girls like her went to learn the nonessential things in life like flower arranging and dinner table setting?