Bigger Than Beckham (44 page)

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Authors: V. K. Sykes

Tags: #Romance, #sports romance, #sports, #hot romance, #steamy romance, #steamy, #soccer

BOOK: Bigger Than Beckham
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Jesus.
That was the last damn thing
she wanted to have to answer. But, hell, Ginny deserved to know and
Martha had to be honest. “I’m afraid the answer is yes, Ginny.”

Pain briefly flickered across Ginny’s
features, distorting them, before her perfect mask reasserted
itself. Martha had a hunch the woman spent a good deal of her life
behind that particular expression.

“Of course he did,” Ginny said in a biting
voice that was at odds with her placid face. “The bastard would
shag a lamppost if it had a skirt on. But with someone who looks
like you do, Martha….well, he’d never be able to resist having a
go.”

“Colton did try his luck with me,” Martha
returned gently, “but he certainly didn’t succeed. There was no
chance of such a thing ever happening, I promise you. That’s just
not me.”

A genuine smile lifted Ginny’s lips. “Good
for you, Martha. Not many women can resist Colton. Or so it seems,
anyway.”

Martha gave a quiet laugh. “Trust me, hon. I
had Colton’s number the first time he slithered up to me.”

Some of the tension seemed to bleed away from
Ginny’s body as she relaxed deeper into her chair. “That’s good to
know, because I made it clear to Tony that I would
not
get
involved in some jilted woman’s vendetta against Colton, no matter
how much I loathe him. I couldn’t allow myself to be used that
way.” She flashed an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry to have thought
about you like that for even a moment, Martha, but I’m sure you can
understand where I was coming from.”

Martha nodded. “I want to seriously skewer
Colton Butler, but it’s got nothing to do with me personally. He
needs to be called to account for what he’s done—and what he’s
probably continuing to do despite his self-proclaimed spiritual
rebirth.”

“Spiritual rebirth?” Ginny scoffed. “What a
sick, pathetic joke. Colton has always been a master of
manipulation, whether it’s with the media, his fans, or friends and
family. Given all the bad press he’s had, he obviously decided a
reboot was in order. Your article is clearly supposed to be part of
the sales job for his coming-out party.”

No kidding
. “Yes, but with your help,
Ginny, it’ll be no such thing. I guarantee you that.”

Ginny didn’t respond to the clear invitation
to get on board. Instead, she ducked her head and looked off to the
side, biting her lower lip. Martha patiently waited her out.

“I’m sure you must wonder why I stayed with a
man like Colton for such a long time. It’s the first question I’d
be asking if I were in your shoes.” Ginny’s voice had
tightened.

Martha had already decided not to press for
those details—not in this meeting. She just wanted to establish
some level of trust between them so the process could get off the
ground. But Ginny seemed to be waiting for her to answer.

“It’ll be something my readers will want to
know,” Martha said, “though I suspect many of them have a pretty
good idea of the dynamics of abusive households.”

“Have you ever been married, Martha? I know
you aren’t now.”

Martha smiled. “Not even close.”

Ginny nodded. “I don’t think someone who
hasn’t been married could ever truly understand why a woman like me
would suffer such abuse in silence.”

“By that I assume you mean a smart, educated
woman. Like you.”

“I suppose that’s part of it, yes,” Ginny
said, her delicate brows pulling unhappily together. “I’m talking
about a woman with options, not someone stuck in a totally
dependent situation. Oh, I enjoyed the lavish lifestyle Colton gave
me—I’d never deny that. But I had a career, too. I didn’t need his
money to survive.”

“Relationships are complicated,” Martha said
thoughtfully. “It’s all too easy to get…sucked in. Then it’s damn
difficult to break away even when it becomes a nightmare.”

An awkward silence fell. Martha tried to
relax as she sipped her coffee, giving Ginny all the time and space
she needed.

“I’m sorry I’m so bloody inarticulate,” Ginny
said with a grimace. “I thought that meeting you like this could be
something of a …” She shrugged.

“A test run?” Martha ventured.

“Yes, I suppose so. Though I seem to have
stumbled at the starting gate, haven’t I?”

Martha gave her a warm smile. “Whatever you
decide you’d like to say to me, Ginny, you can do it in your own
way and in your own time. I’ll never put any pressure on you.”

“Thank you, Martha. Honestly, though, I’m not
sure I’ll be able to get the words out, to you or to anyone. I hope
you can understand that.”

Martha just about choked with dismay, but she
couldn’t ignore the poor woman’s blatant unhappiness. “Ginny, this
is downright nosy on my part, but you do have a therapist to talk
to, don’t you?”

Ginny nodded vigorously. “Oh, my God, yes.
Tony had to drag me to her, practically kicking and screaming, but
God bless him for his persistence. I owe him so much for never,
ever giving up on me—not even though I was a stupid, stubborn pain
in the ass for much of the time. Going to therapy was the best
thing I’ve ever done for myself. I’d never have had the guts to
leave Colton otherwise.”

Every time Ginny uttered Tony’s name, her
eyes lit up with something that bordered on reverence. Martha
doubted that any woman could be closer to a platonic male friend
than she was to Nate Carter, but she didn’t worship at her pal’s
feet. Ginny, on the other hand, gave every indication of doing
exactly that when it came to Tony.

Envy crackled through Martha like brittle
ice—cold and stabbing. How screwed up was it that she found herself
getting a little jealous of Ginny’s relationship with Tony? Good
Lord, the man was messing with her mind and her heart, and that was
beginning to piss her off.

“What does Tony want you to do?” Martha
asked, kicking the green-eyed monster out of her head.

“Well, he’d love nothing better than to see
me help you cut off Colton’s bollocks.” Ginny exhaled a sigh. “And
I know he wants me to do it for myself, too. He thinks I need to do
it if I’m going to fully heal, and he may well be right. He says I
still have so much rage and hate bottled up inside me that he
worries that I may never be able to properly love another man.”

Martha figured Ginny must be paraphrasing,
since she couldn’t imagine Tony saying anything quite that
touchy-feely. But she just gave a sympathetic nod. “And what do
you
think?”

Ginny lifted a shoulder in a delicate shrug.
“Let’s just say my therapist thinks we’ve still got some work to
do, and I can’t disagree with her.” She fidgeted with her coffee
cup for a moment before blurting out what sounded like a plea.
“Here’s my worry, Martha. Telling my story in public, like you and
Tony want, could either be part of the solution or part of the
problem. Do you know what I mean?”

She stared at Martha, her big round eyes
welling with tears and her beautiful features tragic and haunted.
Martha wanted to kick herself right then and there for feeling even
a moment of jealousy, or begrudging Ginny one iota of Tony’s
attention.
Or
for putting her needs as a journalist before
this woman’s pain.

Putting her cup down, she moved to the sofa,
right next to Ginny’s chair. She took the woman’s small, slender
hand and held it in a warm clasp. “Of course I do. Look, hon, it
really doesn’t matter a damn about what I want, or even what Tony
wants. You need to do what your heart says is right for
you
.
Not your brain, but your heart. And I’ll bet your heart knows the
answer, even if your head hasn’t quite figured it out.”

Ginny gave her a tearful smile and squeezed
back. “I think like you, Martha Winston. Just like Tony said I
would.”

 

* * *

 

“That’ll be her,” Tony said when he heard the
knock on the door of his suite. He rose from the dining table where
he and Rex had yet again been going over the hard figures involved
in making the best possible bid for the Thunder. “Time for you to
get lost, mate.”

Rex shot him a sly grin as he unfolded his
long body from his chair and grabbed his briefcase. “Indeed.”

When Tony opened the door, Martha strolled
past him, as if she owned the hotel.

“Hey, fellas. Y’all got a nice little
arrangement here,” she drawled, letting her gaze wander about the
room. “You boys sure do live like tycoons, with your private jets
and your fancy hotel suites. And is that bourbon I see on that
little table in there?” She put her hand on her hip and vamped for
him. “My, my. You two are men after my own heart. How about giving
a thirsty lady a drink?”

Tony had to repress a laugh. God, he loved
her southern belle routine. And she looked fantastic in a cool,
creamy white outfit that accentuated her perfect tan and long
golden hair. The professional looking clothes said
hands
off
, but the way she cocked her hip and smiled at him conveyed
the exact opposite.

“I’m just heading out, Martha,” Rex said as
he headed for the door. “Lovely to see you again. Hopefully, we’ll
catch up later.”

“Heck, you don’t have to rush away on my
account, hon,” Martha said with a mischievous glance in Tony’s
direction.

“Give me strength,” Tony muttered under his
breath.

Rex was barely out the door before Tony
slammed it shut behind him. Two quick strides took him to Martha,
who waited for him with a teasing smile on her lush lips.

“Glad to see me?” she murmured, running the
tip of her index finger in a lazy arc down his stubbled cheek until
it brushed his mouth.

“You have no idea.” Tony swept her up in a
hot embrace. He felt like a bloody caveman as he devoured her soft
mouth in the kiss he’d been dreaming about since she left him in
London. Oddly, Martha seemed stiff in his arms at first, but then
her body melted in response to the demands of his lips and tongue.
He took a step forward, pinning her against the wall, one hand
cradling her neck and the other cupping her sweet ass. Lifting her
into his body, he rubbed his already rock-hard cock into her soft
mound. Subtle it wasn’t, but he didn’t give a damn about subtle
right now. His hunger for Martha felt raw, primal and utterly
unstoppable.

Martha slid her mouth from his lips and
leaned her head against his shoulder, her breathing ragged from the
long, intense kiss. “Tony, you’d better hold those charging
horses,” she gasped.

He groaned, propping his hands on the wall on
either side of her head. “Christ, really?”

She slid under his arm and took a step away,
adjusting her silky jacket. “There’ll be time enough for those
shenanigans later, pal. Let’s get our business out of the way
first.” She gave him a little poke on the bicep. “Otherwise, my
nerves are going to be as tight as a camel’s butt in a sandstorm,
and that’s not going to work out too well for either of us.”

Shaking his head at the startling imagery, he
kissed her lightly on the lips and took her by the hand into the
living room. Martha apparently intended to keep her hormones in
full check until they’d reached some kind of deal, so he wasn’t
about to let himself be any less disciplined—no matter how badly he
wanted to strip her naked and completely lose himself in her
glorious body.

“Bourbon?” he said, relieved as she sat down
on the sofa. For a second, he’d worried she might sit down at the
table, ready to negotiate as if they were a couple of haggling
lawyers.

“Later, I think.” She crossed her legs
demurely after tugging her skirt down. “My stomach’s a little bit
off from drinking that ghastly hotel coffee with Ginny.”

“I hear you. I think I’ll have one, though.”
He poured himself two fingers of Knob Creek.


Another
one would be more accurate, I
suspect, from the looks of that bottle,” Martha said wryly. “But
the more the better, I suppose. Sobriety is probably over-rated
when it comes to conducting negotiations.”

He heard anxiety in her voice despite the
apparent jest.

“How did it go with Ginny?” he asked
casually, sitting down in one of the arm chairs. “She was a bundle
of nerves during the flight.”

“She was tense but composed when we talked.
My gut says she’s dying to spill everything out, though she’s still
all jammed up inside. My goal was just to be open and reassuring,
applying no pressure at all. I told her whatever decision she makes
will be completely fine with me.”

Knowing how much Martha wanted this story,
Tony couldn’t help being a bit skeptical. “Is that true?”

“Hell, I’d hate it if she said no. Of course
I would. But I meant it when I told her that she needs to follow
her heart, and not over-think it. I suspect she might want to go
back and talk it over with her shrink before saying yes or no.”
Martha gave him a tentative smile. “Hopefully, it’ll be yes.”

Some of Tony’s lingering worry over Ginny
eased. “Whatever happens, I have no doubt you impressed the hell
out of her,” he said, letting his gratitude for her gentle handling
warm his voice. “I expect she’ll have told me everything by the
time we get back to London. I hope you realize that.”

“Oh, my God, I’m so shocked.” Martha rounded
her eyes at him, feigning surprise. “
Of course
she’ll tell
you everything. After the way she rhapsodized about you in there,
she’ll be volunteering to lead the campaign to make you a
saint.”

Tony laughed out loud. “I’ve been called a
lot of things, but saint isn’t one of them.”

“Seriously, though,” she said, “it sounds
like you thoroughly earned her trust and devotion, Tony. So, all
credit to you, I say.” She shot him a wry smile he couldn’t quite
read.

“I just hope she says yes,” he said
brusquely, feeling awkward. The last thing he wanted to do was take
credit for Ginny getting her act together.

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