“I’m not anyone,” he said, aware of how arrogant he sounded. “But out of curiosity, what makes you so much worse than the rest of us mere humans?”

  Felicity shrugged.

  “I’m no angel.” Royce placed a hand on Felicity’s shoulder. Either she didn’t notice, or he was making progress. “I’ve done things I wouldn’t write home about.”

  “Want to know my nickname? Bad bitch.” Felicity's eyes narrowed. “Not great, right?”

  “Does the name bother you?” Royce wondered.

  “No.”

  Royce had a feeling that Felicity wasn’t as copasetic as she let on.

  “I have an idea.”

  “What?” she asked with a half-smile that made Royce’s heart pound.

  “You and me.” He moved a step closer. “Let’s tell the world to go fuck itself. Let’s be bad together.”

  Royce slid his hand around the back of Felicity’s neck and covered her lips with his. He waited, just a split second, to see if she would protest. Instead, she wound her arms around his waist and deepened the kiss.

  Thank God, Royce thought. He would have backed off if she asked. But after one brief taste, he couldn’t imagine not having another. And another. Changing angles, Royce ran his tongue over Felicity’s. Her sigh of pleasure was music to his ears.

  Felicity’s lips were impossibly soft, molding to his. She wasn’t passive, letting him know with a shiver of delight how much she enjoyed the feel of his hand on her leg, her hip, her waist.

  When Royce’s palm cupped her breast, Felicity’s head fell back giving him full access to the warm skin at the side of her neck and bit down.

  “Oh,” Felicity gasped. She threaded her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, holding him close. “Yes. Right there.”

  Royce was happy to comply. Her skin was like sundrenched honey on his tongue. Unbelievably sweet. Undeniably irresistible. He hadn’t intended to start anything they couldn’t finish.

  How could he know how one kiss would set her off like a burst of fireworks? How could he guess she would feel the same explosion of pleasure once he had her in his arms?

  “Lunch is ready to be served, Mr. Patterson.”

  The sound of his secretary’s voice through the intercom pulled a groan from deep inside Royce’s chest. Breathing deeply, he rested his forehead against Felicity’s and released a rueful chuckle.

  “Sorry,” he sighed.

  “Because you kissed me?” Felicity asked. “Or because we were interrupted?”

  “That kiss is nothing to be sorry for,” Royce assured her. He touched her cheek before running the pad of his thumb across her full bottom lip. “If you dare disagree, I’ll know you’re lying.”

  “One thing I’m not is a hypocrite,” Felicity said.

  “Good.” Royce pressed the button on his desk. “Send in the waiters, Megan.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Waiters? As in more than one?” Felicity asked as she took her seat.

  As he passed, Royce briefly touched her hair.

  “I may have overdone the order.” He opened a chilled bottle of sparkling water and filled their glasses.

  “We aren’t having wine?”

  Royce met Felicity’s curious gaze. She had to know he’d done his research. He knew about her stints in rehab. Someone with an addiction never stopped being an addict. But many learned to deal with the problem, one day at a time.

  Was Felicity still drinking? Or was she testing him to discover his reaction?

  “I have a bottle of Chablis in the refrigerator. Would like some?” he asked, leaving the decision up to her.

  “No.” She took a sip of water. “But not for the reason you think.”

  The waiters entered the office before Royce could respond.

  Tray after tray of food was set before them. Vegetarian dishes and those designed to tempt the most finicky carnivore. Freshly baked bread—three varieties. Half a dozen salads. And that didn’t even cover the other side dishes and assorted fruit.

  “All I can say is, wow!” Felicity shook her head as her amused gaze took in the feast. “I hope you enjoy leftovers.”

  “Perhaps I got a little carried away,” Royce admitted with a self-deprecating laugh.

  “Usually, I just eat a sandwich at my desk. This is a treat,” Felicity said as she filled her plate with a little of this and that. She took a bite, closed her eyes, and smiled. “Yum.”

  “Good?” Royce asked, pleased to see Felicity enjoying herself.

  “So, good.” She raised an eyebrow, her eyes lowering to his empty plate. “Aren’t you joining me?”

  Royce had been too interested in watching Felicity. Food was the last thing on his mind until she reminded him. Smiling, he nodded. Deciding to try a little of everything, he reached for a serving spoon. He took a bite of lasagna.

  “Mm. You’re right. I’m relieved,” he said.

  For the next few minutes, they ate in companionable silence. As Royce reached for a sesame seed-covered dinner roll, he noticed Felicity staring. Normally, he wouldn’t mind. She could look all she wanted. After all, his eyes certainly enjoyed everything about her. But…

  “Do I have something on my face?” he asked, wiping his chin with his napkin.

  “You’re very pretty.”

  Thrown for a loop by her sudden observation, Royce blinked. Felicity’s lips curved into a grin.

  “Don’t pretend you aren’t aware of how attractive you are,” she said as she took another bite.

  “I’ve been called handsome,” Royce conceded. “Sexy. If memory serves, I believe the exact words were sex god.”

  Felicity laughed and he joined her.

  “However,” Royce continued. “I don’t recall anyone using the term pretty. You’re the first.”

  “Have I offended your male sensibilities?” she asked.

  “Offended? No. Just momentarily surprised.” Teasingly, Royce framed his face with his hands and winked. “Call me pretty. I’m glad you like what you see. I’m content. All you need to do is call me—any time—and I’ll be happy.”

  “Maybe I will,” Felicity said with a shrug. “Royce?”

  “Hm?” he asked as he popped a piece of buttered bread into his mouth.

  “Should we have sex?”

  Again, Felicity surprised him. Royce coughed as the bread caught in his throat. He reached for his glass, drank, sputtered, and coughed again.

  “Are you okay?” Felicity inquired. She seemed more amused than concerned.

  “You caught me off guard,” he wheezed. Clearing his throat, he set his napkin aside and gave Felicity his full attention. “Do you want an answer?”

  “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked,” she said.

  “Yes. We should have sex. Often.” Royce refilled his glass. “But not today.”

  “No?” Felicity sighed. Casually, she placed her hands in her lap. “Too bad. The offer may not come around again.”

  “How about tomorrow,” Royce said, coming back with a counteroffer. “I’m more of a sex on the second date kind of guy.”

  “Today isn’t a date,” Felicity reminded him. “We’re having a business lunch. Remember?”

  Royce leaned back in his chair. His gaze dropped to her mouth.

  “What happened between us had nothing to do with business.”

  “You kissed me. The polite thing to do was kiss you back.” Felicity’s lips twitched before she broke into a full smile. “I’ll give you props for technique and creativity.”

  Felicity had a talent for surprising him one second, stirring his anger the next, then turning on the charm to the point that he easily forgot what made him mad in the first place. She kept him on his toes. Something he couldn’t say about a lot of people.

  “You’re no slouch in the kissing department yourself,” Royce said.

  “Thank you.” Felicity lowered her head in a brief bow of acknowledgment. “I’ve always done my best work when something, or someone, inspires me.”

  “Thank you.” Royce’s eyes crinkled at the side in amusement. Remembering what she told him not long ago, he had to ask. “Did I make you melt?

  “You heated me up,” Felicity admitted. “But melt? No. I have a high boiling point.”

  “Should I take that as a challenge?”

  “You can,” she said. “However, my intent wasn’t to further pique your interest. I merely told the truth.”

  “Hasn’t anyone told you?” Royce asked. “Honesty is sexy as hell.

  “Most of the men I’ve known prefer a lie. Hm.” Felicity sent him a considering look. “Maybe that’s the reason none of them were able to chip away at my icy heart.”

  “I prefer to say what I think.” Royce wouldn’t claim he never swerved from the truth. That would be a lie. “The only promise I’ll make you is this. I’ll be honest with you, Felicity. Whenever possible.”

  “Should I promise the same?” Felicity asked.

  “Sounds like a good start to a relationship,” Royce said.

  “What if I’m lying?” Not waiting for Royce to answer, Felicity pushed away from the table. “And who said anything about a relationship? I asked if you wanted to have sex.”

  “And I said yes. Often.” Royce reached for her hand. He sighed when she refused the gesture. “I’m not asking for marriage. Just something more than a one-night stand.”

  Felicity walked to the sofa without responding. When she lifted her gaze, her eyes were a cool brown.

  “Should we get down to business?”

  Knowing when to push his advantage and when to back off, Royce dropped the subject—for now. He took the seat opposite Felicity.

  “We can hash out the details about the charity gala. After we finish let’s have dessert. If you like.”

  Felicity seemed to consider his offer.

  “Depends.” She paused. “What kind of dessert?”

  Royce gave her a sheepish smile.

  “You name it, we’ve got it.”

  “Chocolate cake?” she queried.

  “Of course.”

  “Cheesecake?”

  “Pumpkin, strawberry swirl, or caramel crumble?” Royce told her. “Take your pick. If you prefer, have all three.”

  “Are you on the menu?” Felicity asked with a not so innocent glance.

  Returning her smile, Royce shrugged.

  “I thought sex was off the table for today.”

  “We can have sex on the table. Or the sofa. Or against the wall,” she said in a casual, tone—as though talking about the weather.

  “In the shower?” Royce asked, just as relaxed on the outside. Inside, his heart raced.

  “You like to keep things clean? Me, too.”

  Felicity laughed, enjoying a joke Royce didn’t understand. He didn’t care. She could laugh, swear, or sneer. Just so she kept talking about sex. With him.

  “Sorry for veering off the subject,” Felicity primly crossed her legs at her ankles. “I wasn’t very professional.”

  “Business first. Then the dessert of your choice.” Royce lifted a silver coffee pot left by the waitstaff and poured the hot liquid into a cup rimmed in gold. “Care for some?”

  “Please.”

  “Cream? Sugar?” Royce asked.

  “Black. Thank you.”

  Deliberately, Royce waited until Felicity accepted the cup and took a sip to ask his next question.

  “When should we have sex?”

  Felicity coughed, sputtered, then coughed again. Somehow, she managed to keep the coffee in her mouth. All except one tiny dribble. Leaning close, Royce wiped her chin. Unable to resist, he stole a quick kiss.

  “Dark roast,” he said, licking the coffee flavor from his lips, pleased when he found a subtle undertone of Felicity lingered on his tongue.

  “Dirty pool,” Felicity said as she set her cup on the table.

  “I simply paid back the favor,” Royce explained. “What? You can dish it out, but you can’t take it?”

  “I can.” Felicity sighed. “Things will be so much easier if I don’t grow to like you.”

  “Easy is boring,” Royce said. “I’m not. Neither are you.”

  “If you’re around me long enough, you’ll pray for a little boring in your life,” Felicity warned. “I’m not what you would call a restful person.”

  “Instead of telling me what I should think about you, why not let me decide for myself.” Royce switched into deal-making mode. “Give me five dates. If you’re not happy at the end, we stop. The same goes for me. No hard feelings.”

  “And if we’re both happy?” Felicity asked. She seemed intrigued, but a little wary at the same time.

  “Lucky us.” Royce smiled. “Isn’t happy good?”

  “Hm.” Felicity pondered the question, then muttered, “I wouldn’t know.”

  Felicity’s words didn’t ask for his pity. She simply stated a fact. She didn’t understand how happy felt. Royce felt a tightness in his chest when he realized how sad and lonely she must be despite the image she projected to the world.

  Royce didn’t buy into the idea that one person could heal another’s psychological wounds just by willing her to be happy. But damned if he didn’t want to try.

  Was he crazy? Maybe. Was he about to make a mistake just as she warned? Time would tell. Right now, all Royce cared about was making Felicity smile.

  “What do you say?” he asked. “Five dates.”

  “You’re on. But just so you know,” Felicity said. “I do believe in sex on the first date. So be prepared.”

  Royce laughed. Felicity had a wicked sense of humor—though part of him hoped she wasn’t joking. Sex on the first date? Okay. And the second. And the third, fourth and fifth.

  If Royce had his way, Felicity would be by his side, in his bed, for a long, long time. He was ready. Now all he needed to do was convince her. A monumental task, but one that he looked forward to conquering.

  Something told Royce that he and Felicity would butt heads more than once in the next few months. And he couldn’t wait.

  ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

  CHAPTER NINE

  ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

  FELICITY HATED FOOTBALL. That was a fact. However, because of her brother and his ties to the local NFL franchise, she managed to acquire people around her whose lives were even more tied to the sport than hers.

  At least once a month, a group of women gathered—usually at someone’s home—to catch up and share their triumphs and troubles with people who understood the unique circumstances in which they existed.

  Tonight, Piper Winslow played hostess. As happened at every gathering, Piper’s husband, Knights’ starting quarterback Levi Reynolds, was banned from the premises. No men allowed.

  The names and faces changed from get together to get together depending on scheduling conflicts and family emergencies. But whether two women were present or a dozen, they managed to have a good time. Often without discussing their men.

  Tonight, the subject of their male counterparts and the sport they worshiped, was front and center.

  Professional football wasn’t simply a game. It was a way of life. Only someone who loved a player—whether through blood or marriage—could understand the ins and outs, ups and downs, and daily drama involved in maintaining such a relationship.

  “You and I bonded through our passion for fashion,” Erin Ashmore explained after Felicity questioned how she came to be friends with so many football wives. “Plus, I’m your gynecologist. Can’t get much closer than that.”

  “True,” Felicity laughed.

  “However, I object to the term football wife,” Erin said. She flicked a lock of blonde hair over her shoulder and frowned. “None of us lives for our husband’s careers. We led full, exciting lives before we ever became romantically involved with our men. Tell her, Riley.”

  “Wait,” Felicity interrupted. “Riley isn’t the person to ask. The Seattle Knights belong to her. When you own a team, your opinion is skewed by definition.”

  “Am I or am I not married to a man who played professional football for a living?” Riley asked without rancor.

  “You are,” Felicity conceded. She waved an imaginary fan in front of her face. “A mighty fine ex-player, if I may say so.”

  “You may,” Riley said. She was used to women drooling over her husband. “Sean may be retired, but I’ve lived with him through the height of his career. Not an easy task.”

  “I say no one’s more qualified than Riley to give you an opinion on the subject,” Violet Reed Benson said. “She fell for Sean when she was seventeen.”

  “He didn’t fall for me. Took him ten long years,” Riley reminded her friend. “Meanwhile, I waited and watched and agonized as he made his way through more women than he cares to remember. At least that’s his story. I tend to believe he thinks of his wild oats sowing days with a great deal of fondness.”

  “He loves you. Wholeheartedly,” Piper Winslow chimed in. “That’s one thing we have in common. Despite our different backgrounds and career choices, we’re loved by a group of amazing men.”

  “Amen, sister.” Laughing, Erin high-fived Piper.

  “What about you?” Riley said to Violet. “You were almost as young as me when you first met Gaige. Didn’t I hear it was love at first sight?”

  Violet shrugged. A renowned eye surgeon, she grew more beautiful with each passing year. At forty-nine, she was also the wife of a football legend. Gaige Benson led the Knights to their first Super Bowl. He retired after finally hoisting the vaunted Lombardi trophy.

  After trying his hand at many different things, Gaige settled into a life as a father, a husband, and a wildly successful action movie star. Still, in playing shape, instead of leading his team down the field, he topped the box office.

  “Gaige and I took the long way around to each other,” Violet said. “The path was hard, but if someone told me the only way we could eventually be together was to first live apart for twenty years, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  “I read that Hollywood wants to do a movie about Gaige’s life,” Piper said as she took another slice of pizza from the row of boxes that lined the table. “Any truth to the rumor?”

 

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