AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But still. He was her boss. You didn’t sleep with the boss and expect anything other than trouble to result.
And that was without trying to keep the world from finding out about what you were doing because you were being followed by the media and being scrutinized every time you appeared in public.
She’d managed it tonight, managed to make it look like she and Alex were just friends. She’d deflected the inevitable question that one of the reporters they’d crossed paths with on their way out of the stadium had asked with a smile and a quip about Alex being a slave driver who forced her to watch football. But the closer they became, the harder the deception would be to pull off. Couples gave themselves away in a thousand small ways. A glance here, a stray touch there, a shared smile at an inside joke.
Someone would find out.
Someone would tell.
And then what …
That was the part she didn’t know.
What happened next.
God. She didn’t even know what she wanted, let alone what Alex might be thinking.
She shouldn’t even be thinking about this at all, but still … Her gaze strayed over to him, to the flex of his fingers gripping the wheel, one hand idly tapping to the soft drumbeat coming from the stereo as he guided the car through the traffic snarls as though they weren’t even there. The movement of his hand was arresting.
Up. Down.
Up. Down.
She remembered those fingers against her skin. Soft. Hard. Skillful.
“You’re quiet,” Alex said suddenly.
“Too much adrenaline,” she said. “That game was a close call.”
“If you get worked up like that over a sport you’re not even interested in, what are you like at Saints games?” Alex asked.
“Terrible,” Maggie said. “There’s pacing. And shouting. And I bite my fingernails when Hana isn’t there to smack me. Once I tossed a can of soda accidentally and broke one of the viewing screens in the owner’s box. Dad wasn’t happy.”
“Maybe we need to build you a little padded viewing room all your own?”
“Some owners and managers can’t even watch the games,” she said. “So I’m not completely hopeless.”
“It’s part of the fun though, isn’t it?” Alex asked.
“What is?”
“The tension.” He pulled the car to a stop at a signal and turned to face her. “The unknown.”
Her stomach squirmed. What did he mean by tension? “Are we still talking about baseball?”
“Why, Saint Maggie, what else would we be talking about?”
“Football,” she shot back. He laughed and took off as the light turned green.
“Chicken,” he said, when the traffic settled back into a steady stream around them. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
She did. But she still didn’t know if she wanted talk about it. “That’s not what this is for you, is it? The thrill of the unknown?”
“This? The Saints?”
She shook her head. “No. This thing we’re not supposed to be talking about. It isn’t just the chase? Or some weird male thing … you know, screw the old owner’s daughter, stake your claim or something?”
He didn’t say anything.
