Stealing Home: A Diamonds and Dugouts Novel (12 page)

Right now that was fine with Lorelei. As long as she got what she wanted, too. She plastered a big, fake smile of her face and asked, “Anything else you want, master?”

His sensual mouth tipped up into a seductive smile and his eyes went lazy. “As a matter of fact,” he drawled, “why don’t you come over here and give me a kiss. Right here in the middle of your bedroom. Your room, you get to call the shots, sugar.”

Lorelei strode slowly over to him, watched his eyes lower, focus on her mouth. She stopped in front of him and licked her lips, lifted up on her toes, and whispered against his mouth. “I’m going downstairs to talk to my brother, but when I come back, I’ll give you what you want. Wait right here.”

Mark searched her face, his eyes sulky, and said, “You’ve got five minutes before I come after you.”

Lorelei kept the smile on her face and her pace unhurried until she got into the hall. Once there she made her way quickly down the stairs and went in search of Logan. She found him in the kitchen making a sandwich. The sleeves of his ancient denim shirt were rolled up his deeply tanned arms, and his dark hair was smashed down flat in the back from his cowboy hat. Love welled inside her at the sight of him, as it always did.

Her strong, loyal, loving brother. Who hadn’t really smiled since his wife passed away, and who was weighed down by grief and hopelessness a little more each day.

Well, that was about to change. “I’m going to get the money, Logan.”

His head whipped around and his dark eyes locked on her. “How, Lorelei? By selling yourself to Mr. Baseball up there?” He gestured upstairs with the butter knife in his hand.

Lorelei sighed and shook her head. “You know I’d never do that.”

He turned back to his sandwich, added a leaf of lettuce. “You’re not pregnant with his kid, are you?”

That one made her snort. “Are you kidding? You have to have sex to get pregnant, and I haven’t had any in a very long time.”

His voice was almost too low, but she still heard him mutter, “That makes two of us.”

Lorelei grabbed a tomato from the hanging fruit basket next to her and handed it to him. “You know the waitress from the café has got the hots for you. And Michelle’s therapist is always checking out your butt.”

He glanced at her briefly. “I’m not ready.” The simple words held a world of meaning. He didn’t mean just dating.

“I’m going to promise you something. The next time I come home I’ll have the money. We’ll be able to do it, I swear. And then everything will be good again. You’ll see.”

Logan stopped what he was doing and reached for her. “Come here, sis.” She went to him and felt his strong arms wrap comfortingly around her. “I love you. You and Michelle are all I’ve got in this world. I’d do anything for my girls, you know that, right?”

Lorelei nodded against his chest, the worn denim soft against her cheek. “I know that. I love you, too.”

His arms tightened around her in a bear hug. “I swear though, Lorelei. You do anything stupid and wind up in trouble, I’ll tan your hide like you were caught stealing Mom’s prized baking apples to feed the horses. You understand me?”

“I got it, Logan.”

Just then his body went still and she knew without turning that Mark was standing in the doorway behind her. Her five minutes must be up.

“It’s time to go, Lorelei.” His deep, gravelly voice sounded behind her.

Yes, it was. Lorelei reached up on her toes and gave her brother a kiss on the cheek. He gave her a hard warning look and let her go.

It was time to get the show on the road.

Chapter 13

“W
HAT IS THIS
place?”

Mark reached for Lorelei’s elbow and grinned. Yeah, he knew what it looked like. A giant ramshackle old brick warehouse that had definitely seen better days.

It was exactly what he’d wanted when he’d bought it.

His palm cupped her elbow and he tugged her to the huge plank door. Heat from her body soaked into his hand and traveled up his arm in a warm, wandering wave. Already on edge, his pulse leaped at the contact and his blood temperature rose.

It seemed to be a common condition when Lorelei was near. “Are you worried, Lorelei? Afraid of what’s inside?”

She leveled a look at him. “It’s been my experience that outside appearances are, more often than not, deceiving.”

Mark reached for the door and gripped the handle. “Ah. So you don’t believe what you see is what you get?”

She scoffed. “Hardly. There’s always more to the story, Mark. Most people don’t take enough time to look.” Her eyes became cool and guarded. “Most people just don’t care.”

His mind flashed back to the scene he’d witnessed in the kitchen of her house. There was very definitely more to that story, a hell of a lot more. Emotions he’d never experienced before had slapped him in the face like a scorned woman. Grief, loss, despair. Ugly, desperate emotions so foreign to him he’d almost not been able to put a name to them.

And he hoped to God he never had to experience them again. He liked his life simple and free of complications.

He played baseball. Lived it, breathed it—dreamed it. And he kept his encounters with women brief and shallow. Everyone got out before things got messy and feelings got hurt. Well, most of the time.

He’d learned the value of self-preservation from his first marriage and he’d learned it well. So then what was he doing with Lorelei? She was anything but simple.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to open the door? It’s getting chilly out here,” she said.

Mark blinked and shook his head. She was right, it was getting cold. Springtime in Colorado was unpredictable and there was a definite bite in the night air tonight.

A car turned onto the street, its bright headlights washed over them. The deep muddled thump of rap music bass reverberated against the pavement and practically shook the car windows. It grew louder as it sped past until it rounded the corner a block down and disappeared from sight.

When all was quiet again, the wide street of Lodo momentarily empty, Mark flung the door open and ushered Lorelei inside. Another blast of music hit them as they stepped onto the landing. A large black man with rolls of muscle stepped in front of them, his huge pecs bulging beneath his T-shirt.

Mark felt her shrink against him and smiled. It felt good to have her plastered to his side. Her curvy body fit snug against him, warm and soft. Settling a protective arm over her shoulder, he raised his other hand and extended it toward the huge man. “Hey, Mario. It’s good to see you. How you doing, man?”

The bouncer returned Mark’s handshake with a smile. His deep voice rumbled in his chest as he spoke. “Good to see you, brother. It’s been a while. Some of the guys are here tonight. Should I tell Leslie you’re here?”

Mark gave Lorelei a squeeze. “Nah. I’m sure word will get out soon enough. Sounds like it’s the Rhumbi boys on stage tonight. Good. I’m in the mood for some live reggae. We’ll head on down and grab a table. Hey, tell Denise I said hi, will you?”

“I will. The guys are at their usual table if you and the lady would like to join them. The band just started their second set of the night.”

With a nod, Mark led Lorelei down a flight of stairs to the open main level of the club. He was satisfied to see the place full on a late night. The long bar in the corner was packed and the wraparound balcony was almost full. Even the couches on the left were totally occupied.

Good. His sister was doing a great job with his club.

Lights hung suspended from the two-story ceiling on long poles and illuminated the huge stage. Lively reggae music pumped from the speakers as the band kicked into another song.

The dance floor was crowded as Mark steered Lorelei around the crush to a long table on the far side. Some of his teammates were there, drinks in hand, listening to the live band. The noise level was so loud it took her elbowing him in the side to get his attention.

He smiled down at her and grinned. In the low light she was gorgeous, her pouty lips a mouthwatering shade of pink, her eyes deep as emeralds. His breath hitched in reaction.

“Are you going to tell me now what we’re doing here?” she practically yelled.

Mark lowered his head until his mouth was a breath away from her ear. “We’re enjoying a night out. Have you got a problem with that?”

He was so close he could smell the warm scent of her skin, feel her hair whisper across his cheek as she shook her head. His stomach pitched and took a long, slow roll.

“I don’t have a problem. I’m just surprised, that’s all,” she replied.

“Even self-centered, womanizing baseball jocks like to kick back once in a while, Lorelei.”

A yell from the table caught his attention and he stepped back from her. He looked up to see Peter Kowalskin waving them over.

“Hey, Cutter! Get your pathetic ass over here and bring the lady. We want to meet her.” Peter called out with a grin.

Sliding his hand down until it rested at the small of her back, Mark guided her past a young couple busy shoving their tongues down each others’ throats and pulled a chair out for her at the table.

Lorelei sunk into the chair and looked around the table at Mark’s teammates. There was Peter Kowalskin and a young kid with a shaved head and nasty split lip. Both of them she recognized from the first night she met Mark. Another was the gruff-looking player Leslie had whistled at. He looked almost more imposing in civilian clothes, his size and brute force even more apparent. The only thing soft about the guy was the brown hair that swept back from his rugged face and curled over his shirt collar.

The fourth guy she couldn’t place. Mark took a seat across from her and began making introductions. “Lorelei, I’d like you to meet some of my teammates. The old man there is Peter Kowalskin and next to him looking pretty with his split lip is our new rookie, JP Trudeau. They were with me the night we met.”

“That was
you
?” the young player asked, his eyes huge.

She nodded. The rookie opened his mouth again, but Mark cut him off before he could say anything. “She’s not kissing anything of yours, rookie, so forget it.” He glanced across the table at her, his eyes unreadable in the dim light. “That’s John Crispin next to you. He and Leslie have been seeing each other for the past few months. And the delicate flower here next to me is Drake Paulson.”

After shaking hands, Lorelei shrugged out of her coat and leaned back against the seat. Talk immediately turned to—what else?—baseball, so she took that as her cue and tuned out. Her gaze wandered around the huge club and the mass of people.

She couldn’t help noticing a lot of eyes kept wandering over to the table of MLBers. A lot of
female
eyes. And they seemed to land an awful lot on the blond-haired catcher with the killer smile and notoriously quick hands.

Lorelei felt a stab of irritation when a man-eater in a six-inch dress and fake breasts the size of melons broke away from a group of similarly attired hoochies and strutted over. She slowed when she reached the table but continued around to the far side, bumping hard into Lorelei as she rounded it.

The bimbo didn’t even apologize. She was zeroed in on Mark and apparently couldn’t be bothered with common courtesy. Conversation came to a slow halt when she leaned over, her huge silicone breasts almost popping out of her skimpy red dress, and placed her hands on the table. She was so skinny the bones in her chest were visible.

Somebody really needed to feed the poor blond bimbo. She needed some mashed potatoes and gravy or something. Maybe a brownie and some ice cream.

Lorelei felt her eyebrows rise when the woman wiggled her skeleton fingers at the guys and crooned, “Hi there, fellas. I’m Candy.”

The guys all mumbled a greeting, except for Mark. His eyes were fixed firmly on Lorelei, his lips pressed in a thin line. Annoyance radiated from him, his body tense.

Why he was annoyed was beyond her. Wasn’t this what he waited for? A willing woman and no-strings sex? For crying out loud, she’d propositioned him much the same way a few nights ago in that parking lot. He hadn’t been bothered then.

Or was it just that he was irritated that she’d been so right about him?

Suddenly a perverse sense of amusement washed through her. She was going to enjoy seeing how Mark handled this little situation. Grabbing a handful of peanuts from the bowl on the table, she popped a few in her mouth and shot him a smug smile. This was going to be highly entertaining.

At her smile, he scowled, nearly causing her to choke on her peanuts. Laughter bubbled up and almost burst loose and she coughed to cover. Apparently he didn’t think the situation was funny.

The great hulking Rush player sitting next to her whipped out a hand and whacked her on the back, the force of it almost toppling her from the chair.

“That’s enough. You’ll make her swallow her tongue you hit her like that again.”

The ballplayer dropped his hand and shrugged as he looked at Mark. “Just trying to help out. She was choking.”

“She was fine—”

“Thank you, John,” she cut in, and smiled at the gruff-looking player.

The blond wasn’t about to be ignored or one-upped by Lorelei’s fit of choking and scooted closer to Mark. She cranked up the wattage of her bleached smile and ran a finger along his arm. When he tensed she misinterpreted the action for encouragement and practically purred, “You’ve got great arms, handsome. Why don’t we hit the dance floor so I can feel those strong arms wrapped around me?”

Lorelei had to give her points for that line. But she had a feeling Mark had heard variations of that from women just like her a thousand times. He looked almost bored when he slid his pale gaze up his arm to look the woman in the face.

“It’s Candy, isn’t it? Right. Well, I appreciate the compliment and the fact that you singled me out, but I’m not much of a dancer.” His gaze moved to the bruised man beside him and back. “Now, Drake here is a helluva dancer. Light-footed as a ballerina. Why don’t you two give it a whirl and get to know each other?”

Candy stuck her collagen-injected lip out on a practiced pout, but her gaze was assessing. “Are you a baseball player, too?” she asked Drake.

The giant winked at her from his good eye. “That’s right, darling.”

The blond straightened and pasted a smile on her face. She held out a hand. “It’d be my pleasure to dance with you, Mr. Drake.”

The ballplayer downed his drink and pushed away from the table. When he stood he towered over everyone. “Drake’s my first name, honey.” He slapped Mark on the back. “I’ll catch you boys later.”

With that they melted into the crowd and Lorelei looked back at Mark to find him staring hard at her. For a heartbeat their gaze locked, tension flowed between them.

The table was silent until Kowalskin spoke. “You’re a real ass, Cutter. Why didn’t you send her my way? I haven’t seen any action in a while.”

That started off a round of good-natured arguing between the players about who really should have gotten to dance with her. The conversation veered straight into the gutter and Lorelei found herself laughing at a highly politically incorrect comment. Until she saw the way Mark was staring at her.

“What?”

He grabbed a passing waitress, his eyes never leaving hers. “Hey, Cindy. Bring me a couple rounds of oyster shooters, will you?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Cutter. The club’s been hopping tonight. Everyone seems to really like this reggae band your sister hired. They’ve become a house favorite. Leslie’s really doing a great job managing your club. Business has been really booming since she took over.”

Lorelei waited until the waitress left. “This is your club? You own this place and your sister is the manager?”

He folded his arms across his muscular chest and leaned back. “Uh-huh.”

“Wow, must be nice to have the money to just buy whatever you want.”

His eyes narrowed. “It has its advantages.”

A flash of anger caught her off guard and she reacted, lashing out. “I’m sure it does. You get to have whatever your little heart desires, don’t you, Mark? Clubs, fancy cars, fast women, designer drugs. Whatever you want is yours for the taking.”

He whipped forward in his chair, a warning flashed in his steely eyes. “You pissed about something, Lorelei? Be woman enough to come right out and say it.”

Something hot flared between her breasts and she jerked forward across the table until they were inches apart. “You really want me to say it?”

He bared his teeth in a snarl and growled, “
I dare you.”

The waitress chose that moment to return. Oblivious to the tension, she set the drinks on the table and beamed at Mark before disappearing again.

Reacting before she thought, Lorelei grabbed the nearest shot glass and downed it. Her eyes bulged when she encountered the raw oyster. A shiver ran through her at the slippery feeling and her stomach reacted with a greasy lurch. She almost spit the vile thing out until she saw that Mark was laughing at her. No way would she give him the satisfaction of seeing her gag. Forcing herself, she chewed the disgusting glob and swallowed it down.

She smiled in triumph and smacked her lips. “Mmmm, that was good. Why don’t you try one, Mark?”

Still laughing, he grabbed a shot glass and stirred the red cocktail sauce until it was blended with the vodka. “You sure that was good, sweetheart? It looked like you were about to lose your lunch from where I’m sitting.”

That was the truth, but she wasn’t about to admit it. “Not at all. I positively
love
raw oysters.”

He raised the shot glass to his lips and Lorelei felt her skin crawl when she saw the grayish oyster pressed against the side. With a flick of his wrist he swirled the liquid, his eyes locked on her. He must have seen her shiver because he let out a laugh and tilted the glass in salute. Then he tipped his head back and downed the shooter in one fluid motion.