To Win Her Love (28 page)

She flinched when V tapped a red-lacquered fingernail to the photo filling the front top fold of the paper. The photographer captured the moment she’d thrown herself into Jake’s arms yesterday. Though her face was obscured, thanks to Jake’s voracious kiss, the image clearly showed her wrapped around his body like a clinging vine.

V’s Texas twang sharpened with her anger. “If you’re going to insist on remaining out of the spotlight, this is
not
the way to achieve your goal.”

“V!”

His barked warning wasn’t necessary. Gracie fought her own battles. As he approached the table with his mug, she lifted her chin and met and held V’s angry blue glare. “Do I need to point out that picture was taken while I was on the porch of my home? My private,
secluded
home. Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated.”

V’s flinty blue gaze flashed with frustration before she slumped back with a long sigh. Her eyes slid shut momentarily, and she forked her fingers into the curls at her temples. They held an apology when she opened her eyes once more. She dropped her hands to the tabletop. “I’m sorry. Truly. I don’t mean to take this out on you. On either of you, but I’ve had a bitch of a morning.” She jerked her chin toward the mug in front of her. “And that’s my first cup of coffee.”

Gracie nodded her acceptance of the apology and swallowed against the guilt gnawing at the lining of her belly. V had good reason to be pissed. She’d warned Gracie the press wouldn’t give up. They both had, but had she listened? Of course not.

She shifted her gaze between V’s dismayed frown and Jake’s angry scowl. Her stubbornness had accomplished exactly what she’d been trying to avoid. In her blind attempt to protect her secret, she’d drawn the attention of the league’s front office. Worse, she’d dragged Jake into this mess with her. The fact she’d already decided to give the press a statement only made her feel like a bigger heel.

Jake claimed V was brilliant at handling spin. Gracie hoped he was right. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. Would it help if I agreed to speak with the press or has the time passed already?”

Jake dropped into his chair, surprise wrinkling his brow.

V sat forward. “That depends.”

“On?”

“On whatever it is you’re hiding.”

She stiffened and sliced Jake with an accusing glare.
Frigging blabber-mouth
.

He cocked his head and met her gaze steadily. “Really? When you’ve been sneaking around the farm like a guilty wraith for weeks. Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t have to say a word.”

She’d love to argue his point. Unfortunately, she couldn’t.

V cleared her throat. “Your secrets are your business. The last thing we want to do is pry.”

“Speak for yourself.” He slumped back in his chair.

V rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, Jake.”

“So am I.”

Narrowing her eyes, Gracie met his smug smirk with a scowl.

“My point is,” V continued, “if what you’re hiding will hurt Jake’s image, I’d prefer you keep your distance from the microphones.”

“Fuck the microphones.”

Gracie’s gaze snapped back to his. The smug smile was gone, and the pleading intensity in his eyes set her girl parts to quivering and her heart to pounding.

He sat forward to cover her hand with his. “Talk to me, baby. Tell me his name.”

Not fair. How was she supposed to keep a clear head when he dropped his voice to a crooning purr? He didn’t clarify who he meant and didn’t need to. He’d asked directly after the man’s identity yesterday and clearly concluded her father was the source of her fears. Tough luck for her, he was right.

Ignoring him seemed the best bet. She met V’s concerned gaze. “I’d as soon keep my distance from the microphones period, but that’s not an option any longer, is it?”

“It never was, sweetie, and you didn’t answer my question.”

“I promise you, nothing in my past can harm Jake’s image.”

V nodded, apparently satisfied.

Jake wasn’t. He shoved back from the table and pushed to his feet. Grumbling beneath his breath about stubborn women, he stalked from the room without sparing her another glance. She wanted to call him back and plead with him to understand. She remained silent and started slightly when V squeezed her hand on the tabletop.

“You’ve tweaked his ego. He’s not used to women who don’t jump to do his every bidding. Well, except for me.” She smiled softly.

A smile tugged at Gracie’s mouth then dimmed quickly. “He wants me to talk to him about things I don’t discuss.”

“He wants your trust.”

She knew that and wished she could give it. She couldn’t. Not in this case. She shrugged helplessly.

V spoke hesitantly, and what she said proved Jake wasn’t the blabbermouth Gracie accused him of being in her mind. “Gracie, it’s none of my business but, if some man hurt you, you
should
talk to someone about it.”

“Oh, no!” She shook her head. “Oh, God, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s…complicated.” She shrugged. “Believe me, there are a whole lot of people who would be better off if I kept my mouth shut. Including Jake.”

V considered her in silence for a moment then nodded. “All right, but if you change your mind and need someone to talk to, I hope you’ll come to me. I’m a great listener and spin control is my specialty.”

“You don’t say?”

V grinned. “And don’t worry about Jake. He’ll get over it. Now, speaking of spin control.”

* * * *

This is a bad idea. A very bad idea.

Only sheer force of will, and Jake’s arm, kept Gracie in place. Despite the oversized sunglasses covering her eyes, she blinked at the flashing cameras and dug her fingernails into her palms in an effort to ignore the urge to flee.

Tweaked ego or not, Jake seemed to sense her faltering courage or maybe her shaking in her calf-skin and goat hair, furry white knockoffs clued him in. He gave her shoulders a squeeze and dipped his head to whisper in her ear. “Picture them naked. It’s what I do.”

She snapped her head around and up to meet his gaze.

He jerked back and barely avoided her head butting him in the nose. He grinned at yet another near miss and dipped his head once more to rest his cheek against hers. “Relax, princess. V knows what she’s doing. Watch.”

She wasn’t sure whether to punch him or kiss him when he nipped at her earlobe before straightening. Either way, she couldn’t suppress the shiver. When he chuckled, the scale tipped toward the punch, but clobbering him would have to wait.

Cool and serene, V addressed the vultures, laying out the story they’d agreed on for the statement. Denying the two of them were involved in a hot and heavy affair was out of the question, considering the picture on the front page of the paper, but everyone loved a love story, V had insisted. Why not use that to their advantage?

Like a bard of old, she wove a dreamy tale of boy meets girl, where the handsome, famous boy and lovely, talented girl overcome their public difference of opinion to care for orphan twin girls and find romance in the process. If she wasn’t so nervous, Gracie would’ve laughed at the predicted response of the vultures.

With the exception of a particularly cynical press babe named Dina Sutton, who made her doubt clear with a constant smirk, the vultures bought V’s story like romance readers at a paperback convention. They latched onto the romantic element of the story with single-minded intensity and went wild when V played their ace in the hole. After V announced Gracie’s online identity, all interest in her true identity evaporated beneath a voyeuristic desire for juicy details.

Jake wore his most charming smile, skirting the more pointed questions. He worked Dina and the crowd like the pro he was. Innuendo and charm were his weapons, and he wielded them expertly. As previously agreed, he also fielded the questions directed at Gracie. Except for Dina, whose narrowed eyes gave Gracie the willies, the press didn’t seem to notice. That suited her fine. Her energy was focused on not throwing up. If she’d been forced to speak, there was a good chance a scandal of a different kind would be documented on the front pages of tomorrow’s morning editions.

When, at last, V pronounced the press conference ended, relief made Gracie’s legs weak. She wasn’t stupid. The vultures’ dangerous attentions wouldn’t simply fade away, but she’d accomplished what she set out to do. The mob had their story and, thanks to her subtle disguise, her resemblance to her mother wouldn’t be evident in any of the pictures they snapped.

Jake kept tight hold of her arm and turned her toward the farmhouse. She shuffled alongside him on wobbly legs and shoved the sunglasses higher on her nose. Those colored contacts she’d teased Max about were beginning to sound like a good idea. The moment they got back inside the house, she was going online to order a half dozen pair.

* * * *

Ten minutes later, Jake disconnected the call with a satisfied grunt. Tom was right. Hiring a private detective was a bad idea and unnecessary when almost everything could be found online these days. He might not have Gracie’s skills at accessing information on the web, but he had connections who did. She’d asked him to drop the subject of her father, claiming the man’s family would be hurt should his identity become known. In the meantime, keeping the man’s secret was tearing her apart. Recalling the fine tremors wracking her sleek body as she faced the press at last, he refused to feel guilty about utilizing his connections.

If loving a woman meant suffering an irresistible need to shield her from harm, the question of what he felt for Gracie had been answered. His gut clenched with panic, but he’d never been a man to deny the truth. Like the girls, Gracie had found a way into his heart. What he should do about that was a question he’d have to answer soon, in the meantime, he was through watching her live like a scared rabbit.

Something prodded Gracie from her drowse.

She stretched languidly and purred as Jake tightened his arm around her waist and tucked his naked body closer to hers. Contentment simmered. The day had been long and busy, but she couldn’t remember a sweeter Christmas than the one she’d shared with Jake and the girls. Not since Sarah’s death anyway.

A peek from under her lashes showed the glowing numbers of the clock on the nightstand. Midnight. She yawned and considered going back to her room. It was what she should do but, for the life of her, she couldn’t bring herself to move out of his warm embrace.

From that first afternoon in the cottage, they’d agreed to keep their intimate meetings a secret from the girls. The clandestine nature of their relationship hadn’t changed, but since Mary moved out of her bedroom in the farm house almost two months ago, to take up residence in her cottage, the temptation to sneak into Jake’s room after the girls were asleep became increasingly difficult to resist.

Perhaps she could’ve held out if he hadn’t been single-mindedly persistent in his sensual invitations. Then again, maybe not. She was a complete sucker for his
love me, baby
drawl. All he had to do was whisper his naughty invitation in her ear, and her eventual caving became a matter of when, not if.

She arrived at his door, several nights later, hot with embarrassment. The heat quickly exploded into flames of excited pleasure when he snagged her wrist and dragged her, laughing, into his big, four-poster bed. She hadn’t looked back.

Silent laughter shook her shoulders. If she’d proven bold and insatiable, she certainly hadn’t been alone.

“Jake?” The muffled call, spoken in a childish voice, was followed by a soft knock on the bedroom door.

Panic exploded in her chest. Oh, dear Lord! Why was Charlie knocking at the door?

Gracie bolted from his arms, her terrified gaze on the closed door. What had she been thinking not flipping the lock when she slipped inside earlier? Oh, God. What was she thinking sneaking in here in the first place? What kind of guardian gleefully participated in wild monkey sex with two small girls sleeping down the hall? An irresponsible, slutty one, that’s what.

Jake sat up beside her, slapping a hand over her mouth and cutting off her groan. She scowled at the laughter glittering in his eyes as he held a finger to his lips.

Was he serious? After ten weeks, he should know the girls well enough to realize a closed door wouldn’t stop either of them, especially not Charlie. Shoving his hand away, she scrambled over his chest and tumbled off the far side of the bed. She landed on her shoulder with a breath-stealing thud.

“Gracie?” Concern thickened his rumbling whisper.

Gulping for breath, answering was impossible. She rolled to her back on the thick carpet and lifted her arm high enough to flap a hand in response.

The bedding rustled and his worried face appeared over the side of the mattress. “You okay?”

She would be as soon as she could breathe again. Nodding, she sat up then found the air to yelp when Charlie called his name again from the hallway.

He pushed to his knees and glanced over his shoulder toward the door. Legs spread, he kneeled on the bed with his hands on his hips. In spite of her justifiable anxiety, Gracie’s attention was momentarily snagged by the sight of him. Dear Lord, the man was magnificently built. She’d never seen anything as beautiful as Jake Malone naked.

He was naked.
They
were naked—with Charlie banging on the door!

“Put something on!” Breathlessness made her frantic whisper barely audible. Her fingers closed around the edge of the quilt, and she yanked. The potential covering didn’t budge from under his knee. She glared at his crooked grin and yanked harder. “Hurry, you idiot. Before she bursts in.”

Completely freaked out, she couldn’t enjoy the natural male confidence evident in his casual knee walk across the mattress. He stepped off the edge and bent to scoop his jeans and T-shirt from the quilted bench at the foot of the bed. “Relax, princess. The door’s locked.”

She stilled in the process of wrapping herself in the quilt. “It is?”

Stepping into his jeans, he shucked them up over his hips as he sauntered toward the door. He glanced over his shoulder, speaking softly. “I locked it when I went to get the new box of condoms from the bathroom.” He waggled his brows.