Pippa's Fantasy (8 page)

“C’mon, Pip, Cass! What will it take to convince you both to come with us, accompany a bunch of good-looking blokes to Jetstream?” Riley was trying hard to sell his idea. “We can have a few drinks and dance—it’ll be great. Rook will be there so it’s not like we can get into any trouble. Hey, he can organise a VIP area just for us. I’m sure Rook would be okay with that.”

“Leave it, Riley. If the women don’t want to go to Jetstream, that’s their business,” Rook finally growled at Riley through gritted teeth.

He wasn’t sure what to be most upset about, the fact that Riley was inviting Pippa to Jetstream, or the amount of effort it was taking Riley to get her to agree to join him there. Did the idea of being at Jetstream seem that unappealing to Pippa, or was it just that it was his place, and
ipso facto
she might have to spend time with him, be reminded of the things they had done together?

Rook was so confused—confused about his own feelings when it came to Pippa, about why he was making such a big deal about the whole thing, about her deception. And more disturbingly, why his gut had burned with jealousy when he had seen Pippa in Riley’s arms earlier. For the life of him, Rook couldn’t understand why he was spending so much time dissecting his reactions. He was not normally an emotional wuss. It was driving him insane.

“Well, guys, don’t forget the season is just around the corner. The last thing this coach wants is bad press about his players being drunk and disorderly.” Brodie’s commanding voice cut into Rook’s thoughts.

“Aww, c’mon, Brodes—you’re getting so old and boring these days. I hope it’s not my sister that’s turning you into an old prude,” Riley teased Brodie. “Ouch!”

Riley cried out as JT, always one to have Brodie’s back in a fight, clipped him over the ear good-naturedly.

“Now see here, young fella, don’t go disrespecting your elders. Brodie James was renowned for his sensibility and lack of fun way before your gorgeous sister came into his life.”

JT’s comment and actions resulted in Caitlin and Mandy giggling uncontrollably, obviously in on some private joke. Rook was feeling anything but happy at the idea of having to be sociable with Pippa again. His life was becoming one giant fuck-up, he thought as he finally managed to escape, with the sounds of laughter and merriment echoing behind him.

* * * *

Pippa didn’t think it was a good idea to go to Jetstream with the group, but not going would raise even more questions and Riley, it seemed, was not going to take no for an answer. Going would give her the further opportunity to bond with the Jets players, though. The day had been good in that respect—if she ignored the disaster over Rook, she had to admit that the rest of the team had been nothing but polite and friendly. So finally she surrendered to Riley’s persistence. She and Cassie made plans to meet everyone at around eight o’clock, giving themselves plenty of time to go home and change first.

Always the gentleman, Brodie walked Pippa and Cassie out to Pippa’s car, thanking them both for coming and extending an open invitation for Cassie to attend some of the Jets home games to see the boys in action.

“Look after my boys, Pippa. I am expecting you, as a member of my staff, to watch their backs. If you think things are getting out of hand, ring me. I’m hoping being at Rook’s bar will help keep everyone well-behaved and under control.”

Pippa sat erect in her car seat, focusing straight ahead, trying to stay strong. Brodie’s parting comments had rushed all those guilty feelings straight back to the surface—it took all of Pippa’s resolve not to break down and confess. He thought of her as a responsible person. He didn’t know that she had already let him down. The thought of disappointing Brodie was like a knife piercing Pippa’s already broken soul.

* * *
*

As promised, Riley was waiting out front when Pippa and Cassie arrived at Jetstream. As their cab pulled up to the kerb, he opened the car door and helped them both out. Pippa once again had to admire his good looks—Riley Walters was a hunk. Eighteen or not, he was sexy as sin. Pippa could tell that Cassie was really enjoying his attention.

Bypassing the queue, Riley led Cassie and Pippa straight to the club’s entrance. The very large and burly doorman smiled as he opened the door for them. Pippa could hear the groans of complaint from the people in the queue as they headed inside.

“Rook introduced me to me to Jerome, earlier. He didn’t want us having to wait in the queue. Apparently Rook’s place is the ‘in place’ at the moment,” Riley shouted above the music, two fingers in each hand making imaginary speech marks in the air as they headed towards the back of the club.

Rook had reserved a large seating area for the group. Six Jets players were already seated, drinks in their hands. The men smiled and nodded a welcome to Pippa and Cassie.

Pippa glanced at the ice-bucket sitting on the table. A bottle of champagne—the same brand that Rook had supplied the other night—sat chilling inside, and two empty champagne flutes sat ready to be filled. Raising an eyebrow in query, she looked at Riley.

“Rook thought you girls might like some bubbly,” Riley said, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Would you rather have something else?”

“No, Riley, champagne is great. Want to pour me a glass, handsome?” Cassie said as she held up a glass to him and smiled.

* * * *

Pippa shouldn’t have come—she was miserable. Everyone else was having a great time, enjoying the music and dancing. A couple of the guys had asked her to dance, but being on the dance-floor just reminded her of her night with Rook. Cassie, on the other hand, was having a wonderful time, or so it seemed to Pippa.

Pippa spent most of her time talking to country boy Gareth. The Jets player seemed ill at ease with the amount of attention he was receiving from the women in the club, which was lucky for Pippa, because Cassie’s night had been monopolised by Riley—they had danced and talked exclusively. Some of the other guys had moaned about this fact to Pippa, but when Riley had overheard the grumbling sports stars, he’d just given them a big smile and dragged Cassie away for another dance. It didn’t seem as if the age gap between her two friends made any difference to their attraction for each other. But it was making Pippa feel lonely not to have her best friend beside her when she needed the support.

She had only spotted Rook a few times—not that she was looking,
she told herself. Once he had come over and spent a few minutes talking to Gareth and the guys, flirting with the gaggle of women who had closed in on the group of footy players. He had filled her champagne glass without a word, then left again. The other times she had spotted Rook, he had been at the bar, talking to the barman or customers. But for most of the night he was nowhere to be found. Pippa assumed Rook was upstairs in his apartment, and she was trying as hard as she could not to let the image that Rook might not be up there alone enter her head.

Just remembering his apartment was enough to bring a whole new world of hurt crashing down on Pippa. Luckily, before she went down that road again, Gareth continued their ongoing conversation.

“It’s been really great chatting with you, Pippa. I’ve found it hard to have a reasonable conversation with a woman since I moved to Sydney,” Gareth confessed to Pippa. “I’m not looking for a relationship, or a quick tumble in the sack, and that seems to be all the women around here want.” He added with a sad shrug, “Don’t suppose you’d take pity on an ol’ country bumpkin and take a few spins around the dance-floor with me? I don’t mind the odd dance, but I’m hesitant to ask any of the unattached females… It just isn’t worth the hassle—they’re all so forward, it scares the hell outta me!”

Pippa could tell Gareth was genuine. He had acted so politely towards her all night, checking her drink and chatting with her. Gareth had spoken at length to her of his hometown, mentioning one girl’s name more than once in the conversation. Pippa knew there was a story there but didn’t want to pry. The country-bred man seemed to have a sadness around him, and Pippa understood that emotion well, so she agreed to his request for a dance.

“Sure thing, Gareth, it would be my pleasure. I think both of us could use a friend right now—I know I can at least. I don’t mind protecting your virtue from the hordes of hungry city womenfolk,” Pippa added with a grin as she took his offered hand.

* * * *

The DJ had made the announcement for last drinks, telling the crowd that he was only playing a few more songs and that if they had put off dancing, it was now or never. Pippa was still on the dance-floor with Gareth.

When the DJ changed to a slower mix, Pippa grimaced and looked up at Gareth, unsure whether she should make an excuse to end their dance. He just smiled and took her in his embrace, but held her at a respectable distance from his body. Pippa was relieved that Gareth had understood her uncertainty. As they moved around the floor, Pippa could see Cassie and Riley swaying to the music, snuggled up against each other. A couple of the other guys were also up close and personal with women that they had only just met tonight.

Pippa was caught by complete surprise when Rook appeared next to Gareth, and whispered something to him.

Chapter Twelve

Rook had reached his breaking point. Seeing Pippa dancing and having a good time was too much. He had tried to keep himself occupied and it had been a busy night, but his gaze seemed to be drawn back to her time and time again. When Gareth headed to the dance-floor with her in tow, her hand in his, after spending a good chunk of the night with his head bent towards hers in deep conversation, Rook nearly crushed the glass he was holding.

“Would you just go and dance with her, and stop mooning about like a love-sick puppy?” Rook was taken aback by the comment from his barman—he hadn’t realised he was acting so obvious.

“It’s not that easy, Mick.”

“Yeah, boss, it really is. Walk out on the dance floor and cut in. If the guy doesn’t go, get Jerome to kick his butt to the kerb. That’s why you pay him the big bucks, boss-man—to clear out the unwanted.” Mick the barman laughed.

So Rook had done exactly that, convincing himself all the way out to the dance-floor that he was just looking out for Gareth. He was a shy country boy—who knew what the likes of Pippa could do to crush the guy’s heart? Gareth needed his captain to look out for him.

“Yeah, right, ’cause I’m the type of shmuck who
does
know,” Rook mumbled to himself, then tapped Gareth on the shoulder.

Gareth relinquished the floor to him without argument. Rook held his hands out to Pippa to take up where Gareth had just been standing.

“Sorry to spoil your fun, princess, but I just thought I should remind you that Brodie does not think much of staff dalliances, and Gareth is important to the team.” Rook had only spoken to her so he could explain that his actions were purely for the team—trying hard to convince himself as well.

Unfortunately, the moment Rook took Pippa into his arms and felt her softness against him, all sanity was lost to him. His body heated and his cock hardened in recognition of her, remembering the pleasure she had bought him. But he did not—could not—miss the look of shock that appeared in her eyes, and he was angered by it. In response, Rook pulled her closer to him, roughly dragging her body up against his.
Hell, is dancing with me that horrible, after all the ways she let me touch her the other night?
The bitter thought caught in his mind.

Rook didn’t care what she was saying—watching her lips and mouth move as she spoke just made him want to kiss her. He had to taste her. If he could just feel those lips against his, maybe he would regain some coherent thought. She was bewitching him, filling him with need. Nothing else in the world was of concern to him. Just the feel of this woman, her warmth, her smell, invaded his very soul. It was all too much. He could not control his cravings for her need. Rook knew he was gripping her too roughly, but he was fighting for control.

Chapter Thirteen

Rook’s hurtful words tore at Pippa’s already damaged heart.
Not only does he hate me, but he thinks I’m some sort of slut.
The thought, as it raced through her mind, nearly caused her knees to buckle as agony tore through her chest. Rook’s slightly painful grip on her was the only reason Pippa managed to not crumple to the floor.

To top off the whole painful interlude, the moment Rook had laid his hands on her, her traitorous body had gone into lust overdrive. There was no way he could not feel her hard nipples poke at him, not with the way he had her pressed hard to his chest. She could feel the beat of his heart against her breast, could feel her body soften, moisten in readiness for him. She was mortified. She had to get away from him, now. Gain some distance from him before she made a fool of herself…again.

So Pippa focused on his accusation and how best to reply.

“Rookie, I am well aware of Brodie’s expectations, now that I am officially a member of the Jets staff. You have no reason to fret over Gareth’s virtue. I have no intention of doing anything that would jeopardise either of our careers. So you can go back to whomever it was you were chatting up.” Pippa was relieved that she sounded much calmer than she was actually feeling, even referring to Rook by the nickname from his youth.

Although she did notice that she hadn’t struggled to break away from his grip yet, even though she knew she should.

She watched, horrified, but excited when, as if in slow motion, Rook lowered his head towards her.

Was he about to kiss her?

Would she just let him take her that way in front of everyone?

Giving in to the lust about to claim her, she let herself draw nearer to him, their lips all but touching. Pippa could feel the heat from Rook’s breath. His mouth was so close she could almost taste him, feel his tongue against her own.