Red Zone (6 page)

“Yes,” she said, and he saw a flicker of something behind those cold eyes. “I figured you’d . . . go out.”

Without touching her, he leaned in. He was so close he could smell her. She smelled like peaches—soft, delicious peaches. Before he could stop himself, he glanced down. Beneath the all too conservative blouse she still wore, he caught a fleeting glimpse of cleavage. 

She shifted slightly, pulling him out of his haze. “Celebrating is for after the game, beautiful. Tonight . . .” he said, tilting his head so that his lips were dangerously close to her ear. “Tonight is for relaxing.”

“And how do you do that exactly?” she asked. Her voice was even, but he didn’t miss the rapid rise and fall of her chest, a telltale sign that she wasn’t completely unaffected by his being so near. 

He stiffened, the question bringing him back to reality. “Video games,” he said gruffly, stepping back and digging in his pocket for his cell phone. 

What in the world had gotten into him? It was one thing messing with her while they were at home, but he needed to focus. 

Kenny picked up on the third ring. “Hey, man,” he said. “Zach’s getting the system set up. We’re in 214.”

“Perfect. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Where are you going?” she asked as soon as he ended the phone call.

“Downstairs.”

“I thought you said you didn’t . . .” He watched as her mouth twisted in disgust. “Go out,” she finally said through gritted teeth. 

“I’m not
going out
. I’m going downstairs to play video games with Zach and Kenny.”

“I’m coming with you.” 

“Oh no you’re not. My
girlfriend
isn’t supposed to be here. Even when players’ wives come on a road trip, they stay in another hotel, or at least another room. I’m not going to try and explain to Zach and Kenny why you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be.” Gage grabbed his room key and slipped it into his pocket alongside his phone. 

“How am I supposed to protect you if you’re off on your own?”

“I think I’ll be okay for a few hours, beautiful.”

Before she could say another word, he opened the door and stepped into the hall. He didn’t know about her, but he needed the space. His head was most definitely not where it needed to be when he had a game in less than twenty-four hours. Hopefully he could get lost in playing video games with Zach and Kenny as usual and be able to forget about the beautiful brunette in his room. 

Chapter 5

For the next five hours, Rebecca waited like a caged animal in their room. She had no way to track him down without blowing her cover, so whether she liked it or not, she was going to have to wait him out. It was infuriating.
He
was infuriating. What was the point of her being here to protect him if he wouldn’t even allow her to do her job?

Eventually she broke down and called for room service, and turned the television on to a local station. It wasn’t exactly an exciting way to spend her Saturday night, but at least it kept her from watching the door all evening waiting for him to return. That would have made her feel even more useless than she already did. 

The night dragged on until, at a little after ten o’clock, the door opened and Daniels sauntered into the room. She clicked off the television and sat up straighter against the headboard. Her gaze followed him as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door. The click of the lock resounded through the quiet room. She stared after him in amazement. 

Roughly five minutes later, the bathroom door opened and he walked out . . . minus his shirt. She averted her gaze quickly, focusing on the blank television screen. The last thing she needed was for him to notice her staring. He certainly didn’t need any encouragement from her to invade her personal space. 

She braced herself for whatever he would throw at her next, waited for him to do something else that would leave her feeling on edge. To her surprise, he didn’t. Instead, she heard movement and a slight creak from the mattress. When she looked, he was already in bed, the sheets covering him from the waist down. Apparently, he was ready to sleep. Relief tinged with slight regret caused her shoulders to slump when she realized there wouldn’t be another confrontation with him tonight. Before she could overthink the situation, she grabbed her bag and made a beeline for the bathroom. Tomorrow would be a long day and she needed her rest as much as he did. 

The next morning was beyond strange in Rebecca’s opinion. Daniels was acting like a completely different person. Gone was the overconfident, in-your-face sexuality he’d shown from the time she’d met him until he’d left the room the previous night. In its place was a polite distance. He’d asked her what she’d like for breakfast, as if none of the previous tension had existed, before he called for room service. He’d even allowed her the use of the bathroom first to get ready. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

At ten o’clock, there was a knock at the door. “Are you expecting someone?” she asked.

“No.”

Making sure her gun was easily accessible, she walked to the door and checked the peephole. On the other side was Tim Donovan, the team owner. She removed the chain from the door, opened it wide, and invited him in. 

“I see you two figured out the sleeping arrangements,” Donovan said, smirking. 

“Not like you left us much of a choice,” Daniels murmured. 

She didn’t think Donovan heard, since he walked across the room and over to the windows. 

“Yes, we did,” she said. 

“Good, good. Well, I wanted to stop by before I headed over to the stadium, and give you this.” Turning, he removed a large plastic rectangle from his suit jacket. A thin cord was attached. He handed it to her before taking a step back. “This will get you past security and up to the visiting owner’s box. You’ll view the game up there with me. Once Gage enters the stadium, he should be safe enough with everyone around.” Then he turned his gaze to Daniels and grew serious. “No going off on your own, you hear me? If you have to leave the locker room before the game, you make sure one of your buddies is with you. I don’t want you taking chances.” When Daniels didn’t answer right away, Donovan glared at him. “Is that clear?”

Daniels sighed. This time she could tell the older gentleman didn’t miss it. “Crystal.”

“Good,” he said, not looking happy. “I’ll leave you two to finish getting ready. Agent Carson, I’ll see you at the stadium.”

“Of course, sir.”

She walked Donovan to the door. The man paused, turning to look at her. He wasn’t that much taller than she was, but he had a presence that made it seem like he was towering over her. “Don’t be afraid to crack the whip with that one. He’s a good kid. I don’t want to see something happen to him.”

“I’ll do my best, Mr. Donovan.” 

After closing the door, she turned back around to face Daniels and was surprised to find him sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. She wasn’t sure what to do, but for whatever reason, her feet began moving. Before she reached him, he looked up, and his gaze met hers. He didn’t say anything and neither did she, but she felt as if he were giving her a glimpse of something he didn’t normally let people see.

Before she knew it, however, he broke their stare and stood. She felt as if a cold bucket of water had just been splashed in her face. Not wanting to analyze what she was feeling, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the bathroom for the only privacy the room allowed. 

Gage knew he was in trouble as soon as he saw the lineman dodge Tate, his center. It all happened in quick succession. One minute he was standing strong in the pocket looking for an open receiver. The next, he was lying flat on his back trying to hold onto the ball. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d been sacked in his life, but it wasn’t something you ever got used to as a quarterback. Whenever it happened, it usually meant one of two things—either someone on the offensive line had missed a tackle or the quarterback wasn’t paying enough attention to what was going on around him. Although Tate had missed the tackle, it was Gage’s fault that he’d landed in the dirt. He was distracted, and he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. 

After he was back on his feet again, Zach came over to see if he was okay. “I’m good,” Gage assured him. 

“You’ve got to get your head out of the clouds, man. Focus. We should be eating up this field.”

Gage nodded, acknowledging his friend, and then jogged to join the rest of the guys in the huddle. The sack had pushed them back, and they had to pick up fifteen yards in one play or give the ball back to the other team. He didn’t like the thought of that any more than the rest of his team did. 

As the guys broke from their huddle and walked to the line of scrimmage, he took a deep breath and tried to push everything out of his mind except for the task in front of him. He needed to keep his head in the game or else they might as well hand the ball over to the other team and go home. As the quarterback, he was responsible for getting the ball into the hands of those who could make the plays and score the points. He couldn’t do that if his mind wasn’t focused on what was happening on the field. If instead, for example, he was thinking about a brown-haired FBI agent currently sitting in the owner’s box watching his less-than-stellar performance. The woman was messing with his head. He didn’t like it.

A hand touched his shoulder, and his head whipped around to find Kenny on his left. “Take a time-out.”

Before he could think it through, Gage signaled the referee for a time-out. All the guys except for Zach and Kenny jogged to the sidelines. They didn’t say anything, just stood there with him so he didn’t look like the idiot he was. Too much of his life was out of his control right now, but what was happening on this field was. This was what he was good at, and he wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, take that away from him. 

All too soon their forty-five second time-out was up, and they were back in formation. He cleared his mind of everything but what was in front of him on the field. With one second left on the play clock, he gave the signal and Tate snapped the ball into his hands. Everyone was in motion around him. It was organized chaos. He loved it. 

Sidestepping a tackle, he found his man twenty yards downfield. Releasing the ball, he watched it soar through the air and hit its target right in the center of his chest. Perfect. A huge grin spread across his face as he jogged with the rest of his team to the new line of scrimmage. Maybe he could give Miss FBI agent a good show after all.

In the end, they pulled out a twenty-seven to twenty-one victory. It was much closer than it should have been, but a win was a win. 

The guys were all tired but in a good mood as they walked through the tunnel and into the locker room. They were having a winning season thus far, so everyone was riding the high—everyone except Gage. 

He was happy they’d won, yes, but his mind still wasn’t where it should be, and he didn’t know how to fix it. Something had happened between him and the stuffy agent earlier that morning in the hotel room, and he didn’t know how to explain it. He’d let his guard down, something he never did around anyone but his family. It was just too dangerous. Add to that this stalker of his, and it was doubly so. 

Everyone stripped out of their gear and headed for the showers. No one was commenting on his lack of focus on the field, but he knew it would be a subject of conversation with his coach on Tuesday. He’d be lucky if he didn’t have to run a few extra drills because of it. Pro or not, the same basic principles applied, no matter if you were playing on a little league team or earning a paycheck. If a player couldn’t focus on his own, then it would be drilled into him through extra laps or some other training exercise. One way or another, the goal would be achieved. 

Gage wasn’t surprised to catch a glimpse of Agent Carson as he loaded the bus with the rest of the team to head to the airport. What did surprise him, however, was that she was standing with Tim. The boss didn’t usually stick around after the games, but Gage figured, given the uniqueness of the situation, he was making an expectation. 

Agent Carson’s brow was furrowed with what looked to be worry when he caught her stare. Of course, as soon as she realized, she smoothed out her features and the professional mask was back. He couldn’t help but smirk. The game was over, and for the next six days he could go back to having fun with his personal bodyguard. Maybe he could break through that shell of hers. Besides, Charlie should have her new wardrobe ready on Monday. He couldn’t wait to see her in her new clothes.