In the Red Zone (7 page)

“Yes, but who’s going to take care of Savannah?”

“Is that why you said no?” She shook her head and crossed her arms. “What about that nanny of yours?”

Kiana knew she was just making excuses, but it was better than risking another night in Frank’s presence. The fake relationship was turning out to be a dangerous idea. If he ended the evening with an invitation to go back to his place, she doubted she’d have the strength to say no. “Madison needs time off, too. I can’t ask her to stay late on such short notice.”

“Then
I’ll
watch your baby girl.”

“Sherita, please, I can’t ask that of you.”

“Why? Don’t you trust me?”

“I do, but…” She released a heavy sigh and let her empty bag fall to the floor. Time to call uncle. Her friend wasn’t going to let up until she told her the real reason why she’d turned Frank down. “The truth is, I’m not ready to risk getting involved with anyone right now.”

“Who says you’d be getting involved? He just asked you to a basketball game, not a weekend on some ‘clothing is optional’ private island.”

“But you said it yourself—that man can get you hot and bothered with just a glance, and I’ve been so removed from the playing field, I don’t know what he wants. Maybe he just wants to hang out. Maybe he wants more. I have no idea.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Sherita held out Kiana’s cell phone. “There’s a nice little feature that lets you call back the last person who called you.”

Kiana held the phone for a moment and stared at it before looking back to her friend. “Are you sure you can handle Savannah for a few hours?”

“That baby of yours is an angel.”

“I promise to come home right after the game.”

“And miss out on a little one-on-one action with Frank Kelly?” Sherita cocked one brow up in challenge. “You disappoint me.”

“I’m taking things nice and slow.”

“Fine, so long as you take him up on his offer. Now call him before he finds someone else to take to that game.”

Kiana waited until Sherita returned to her desk before hitting the redial button.

It rang several times before a smooth, suave voice answered, “Changed your mind?”

Damn that man and his cockiness. It did little to quiet the jolt of anticipation jumping around in the pit of her stomach when she imagined him using the same tone in the bedroom. “Actually, I was able to move some things around and free up tomorrow night.” She licked her lips and offered a silent prayer she really didn’t sound as desperate as she felt. “That is, if the invitation is still open.”

“Of course.” She could almost hear him grinning on the other end of the line. “Should I pick you up at your place?”

“No.” Panic tightened her throat. It was one thing for him to know where she worked, but her home was strictly off limits. “The office is closer.”

“And what about dinner beforehand?”

If lunch last Friday was any indication, dinner might result in them skipping the game entirely for a completely different type of sporting event. The minute his lips touched hers, all common sense flew out the window. “Sorry, but I’ll be working up until tip-off.”

She didn’t miss the disappointment in his voice as he asked, “What time should I pick you up?”

“Game starts at seven thirty, so with traffic, six forty-five should be fine.”

“Sounds like a plan.” The easy confidence flowed back into his words. “I look forward to tomorrow night.”

“So do I.” Her reply slipped through before she could catch herself, and embarrassment burned her cheeks. So much for keeping her attraction to him in check.

He chuckled, and the sound soothed her rattled nerves. “That makes two of us. See you at six forty-five.”

He hung up, and she reached for her bottle of water. Forget getting hot and bothered from a glance. The man managed to turn her on with just his voice.

As she chugged her water, she didn’t miss Sherita giggling from the other room. “Girl, you’re in over your head,” her friend called out.

“And it’s all your fault,” she shot back.

But if she was going to get mixed up with the likes of Frank Kelly, at least she’d have a good time doing it.

Chapter Six

Frank let out a low whistle when he entered Kiana’s office. He’d been expecting her to still be in her prim and proper office attire, but the skin-tight jeans molded that perfect ass of hers in ways that made him forget his own name.

“Good evening,” she said with a shy smile.

“Oh, baby, it’s getting better all the time.” He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and took a moment to drag his gaze away from that pert bottom and soak in the rest of her appearance. A form-fitting jersey was layered over a long-sleeved red T-shirt and outlined the generous curves underneath. Her soft curls framed her face, and a pair of blue stiletto heels with the team’s logo on them completed the outfit. It was the perfect balance of sporty and sexy, and for a moment, he considered taking her back to his place for some bedroom athletics instead of the game.

Cool your jets
, he warned himself.
This is Kiana, not some bimbo you hit up at a party
.

He resisted the urge to tug at the collar of his shirt and forced a confident smile on his face. “You look awesome.”

“Sorry if I went a little overboard, but I’m a huge fan.” She ran her hands over her hair. “I just hope my hair isn’t so big that it blocks the view of the people sitting behind us.”

“It’s fine.” He twirled one curl around his finger, marveling at how soft and silky it was. Most of the black women in Atlanta paid outrageous sums to straighten their hair, but not Kiana. It served to soften her normally sharp and polished appearance. “It fits you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re beautiful without trying too hard.”

She laughed. “You have no idea how much work goes into looking this way.”

“Well, it’s definitely appreciated.” He offered his arm. “Let’s go before the game starts without us.”

As they waited for the elevator, he remembered a conversation he’d had with his father when he was a teenager. His father had said there were girls you took to bed, and there were girls you took home to meet your mother. Ideally, he’d look for one who fit into both categories when he decided to settle down.

Kiana definitely fit that description. From the moment he saw her, he wanted to get her naked, but as he spent more time with her, his respect for her grew. She was definitely one he wanted to treat like a lady because if she only felt a fraction of the attraction he did, he didn’t want to ruin his chances with her.

He led her down to the parking garage and held the passenger door of his Maserati Quattroporte. “Ladies first.”

She slid into the leather seat and admired the interior. “Nice ride.”

“It’s not as flashy as the Lamborghinis some of the other guys have, but it’s still fast.” He closed the door and jogged around the car. This was as nerve-wracking as a real first date. “Ready for some fun?”

She gave him a grin that said, “game on.”

He revved up the engine and tore out of the parking garage as fast as he dared.

A squeal broke free from Kiana’s lips, but the flush in her cheeks told him it was more from delight than fear. The interstate was still a mess of rush-hour traffic, so he was forced to stick to the side streets as he made his way down from Midtown to Phillips Arena. Not the best way to show off what his car could do, but maybe after the game…

He glanced at Kiana and wondered if she’d be open to a little late-night fun with him.

The blare of a car horn jerked his attention back to the road. Thankfully, he wasn’t the driver at fault, but the incident rattled him enough to stay focused on one thing at a time.

That didn’t keep him from making small talk with her. “Have you been to many games this season?”

She shook her head. “Been too busy. I used to go all the time with Dad, though.”

A pang of sadness lingered in her voice, and he silently cursed. The last thing he wanted to do was dredge up some unpleasant memories. “Are you sure you want to go? Because if—”

“Of course I want to go.” She looked at him with confusion. “I wouldn’t have accepted your invitation if I didn’t.”

“I know how some places have special meanings to people, and I didn’t want to take you anywhere that would make you miss him.” He rubbed the back of his neck and hoped she wouldn’t ask any more about it.

Of course, she was too smart not to pick up on what he said. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

He shrugged and waited for her to change the subject.

“What’s your story, Frank Kelly?”

He gripped the steering wheel and weighed the pros and cons of revealing the truth to her. He had a reputation as a tough guy, as an aggressive linebacker who knocked opponents to the turf on a regular basis. “Just that I get that certain places have sentimental value.”

“What’s your place?”

“Soldier Field.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “There’s a reason I won’t play for the Bears. Every time I set foot in that stadium, I remember all the games I went there with my dad. We played a game there once while I was at Notre Dame, and when I went out on the field, I just froze. I couldn’t get my head on straight until halfway through the second quarter.”

“You missed him that much?”

“I’m sure it had something to do with the fact it was only a few months after he’d died.” His throat choked up. “But yeah, I miss him. I gave him way too much grief when he was alive.”

“I think we all give our parents grief at one time or another.”

“No, I was by far the biggest troublemaker out of all my brothers. I blame the red hair,” he added, cracking a joke and pointing to the one feature that made him stand out among his siblings.

“Yeah, redheads do have a reputation for hot tempers.” She sounded like she was trying to be flippant, but he didn’t miss the way she squirmed in her seat.

Shit!
After witnessing the way her ex so casually backhanded her at the club, he began to wonder if there was more to their history. If that asshole had hit her before…

He squeezed the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Then he caught himself. He could only imagine what he looked like to her right now. Probably something close to the Hulk in a smashing rage.

Frank forced himself to think of more pleasant things, and his anger faded. “So, is this a fake date or an official date?”

“Excuse me?” The sassy attitude returned with the same force as the moment he’d met her at the club.

“You know. You and me, being seen in public together, trying to raise awareness for the foundation. Is it going to be all business? Or will you allow yourself a few moments of pleasure?”

She responded with a squinty-eyed glare.

He laughed it off. “Hey, you can’t blame me for trying. I’d have to be gay not to be attracted to a woman like you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Absolutely.” He gave her a quick once-over, admiring every inch of her. “You’re smart, kind, generous, and so friggin’ sexy that I have to remind myself every few minutes to be a gentleman in your presence.”

“Who says I want a gentleman?” she teased.

All the blood rushed to his dick. Now it was his turn to squirm uncomfortably in his seat. “So you’re giving me permission to turn this into a real date?”

“We’ll see, Romeo.”

He grinned. A challenge had just been laid down. One he gladly accepted. She’d left the door open just wide enough to allow him to charm her off her feet. Now to put his plan into action.

***

Kiana stopped short when Frank pointed to the leather-covered, courtside chairs between the benches. “Holy shit, Frank. Those are the Hollywood seats.”

“I know,” he replied with the nonchalant ease of someone who routinely got the best of everything.

“But how did you get them?”

“You’re not the only person who knows people in high places.” He gave her a wink and took her hand. “Now let’s sit down and enjoy the game.”

Her head swam from the extravagance of it, but Frank had no problem flagging a member of the dance team and asking for a Coke. The request jerked her from her stunned silence. “She’s a cheerleader, not a waitress.”

“One of the perks of these seats is that you get a member of the dance team to bring you whatever you want.” He shrugged. “I figured a soda was safer than a beer. Do you want anything?”

When the dancer returned, she gave Frank a smile that said she would be more than happy to bring him whatever he wanted.

A wave of jealousy rose within Kiana, and she looped her arm through his and glared at the girl.

Frank chuckled. “Making a claim on me?”

“More like telling her not to offer you a lap dance while you’re the celebrity face of my foundation.” True, their relationship—if she dared to call it that—was nothing more than a farce designed to drum up publicity for her fundraising gala. But she couldn’t ignore the trickle of heat that made its way down her spine and settled in the pit of her stomach.