Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) (16 page)

"She's right, Landon." Dean moved to her side
and gave Landon one of those don't-bother-arguing looks. "And with
what she's invested in you, I suggest you do as she says."

Landon's jaw hardened. He straightened and
opened his mouth.

"Don't." Silver pressed her fingers over his
lips. Men and their stupid pride. "Please, just do this for me. I
let you take care of me. If the medic says you're fine, I'll drop
it. But I need to know for sure."

His eyes softened and he leaned down until
his forehead touched hers. "Fine. But after that, we're going to
have breakfast."

She laughed. "Yes, I remember. And I'm
buying." Glancing over at the apartment, she swallowed. The big
brick structure looked untouched except for a single, broken
window. Lingering smoke formed a paste on her tongue and a
coal-like lump in her throat. "I guess you lost everything . . .
."

The moisture in her eyes helped clear away
the scratchy sensation, but she knew she was way too close to
getting silly emotional. Landon was okay. That was all that
mattered.

"Hey." Landon took her hand and squeezed. He
smiled when she looked up at him. "It's just stuff. Most of my
valuables are in storage at my parent's place. I didn't lose
anything that can't be replaced."

"But—" Silver cut herself off as an elderly
couple ambled by. She tightened her grip on Landon's hand as he
watched them pass, guilt casting shadows over his face.

"How did the fire start?" Dean's tone had a
sharp edge. He avoided her glare and focused on Landon. "If you
don't mind me asking?"

Landon's brow furrowed. He stared at his grey
sneakers. "Grease fire. And my own stupidity. I tried to put it out
with water."

"Jesus." Dean shook his head. "You're lucky.
Are you sure you didn't get burned? "

"Wait? What's wrong with putting a fire out
with water?" Silver bit her lip when Dean muttered under his breath
and massaged his temples with his fingers. "
What?"

"Remind me to keep you both out of my
kitchen." Dean laughed, groaned, and fiddled with his tie. "I've
got to get back—the new guy should be joining the team today and I
want to see what I'm dealing with. Can you stay with him?"

Wow.
Silver nodded, speechless. He
actually trusted her to take care of their most valuable player?
Would wonders never—

"I won't keep her long," Landon said. "She's
got stuff to do—"

"Yes. And I believe her priorities are well
in hand."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"That remains to be—"

Silver threw her arms up in the air, then
grabbed both men's hands to pull them away from where the firemen
were dragging the hose out of the apartment. "Stop it. Both of you.
Dean, you've got my number. I'll check in later." She turned to
Landon and put her hands on her hips. "We are friends. Do we have
to go over how thing works both ways?"

Lips twitching like he wanted to laugh,
Landon shook his head and hooked his thumbs to his pockets. "Non,
mignonne. I've got it."

"Good." She gave Dean a distracted nod when
he said goodbye, her gaze locked on the angry red blotch covering
the knuckles of Landon's right hand. "You liar!"

Landon blinked and frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I will not!" She shackled her hand around
his wrist and stomped her foot. "You . . . you . . . Arg! I thought
you said you didn't get burnt!"

"Ah . . . ." His tongue traced his bottom
lip. He gave her a disarming smile and she wanted to strangle him.
"That."

"Yes. That." She dragged him towards the
ambulance. "We are getting this looked at right now. And if you
argue with me I'll . . . ." She scowled at his chuckle. "I'll have
Dean bench you for a month."

That sobered him. For a split second. Then he
grinned. "Bench or scratch?"

"Both!" She backhanded his hard chest when he
laughed. "Oh, I am so going to learn that stupid game so I can
punish you when you don't behave."

He cocked his head as they stood by the back
of the ambulance and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind
her ear. "I can teach you."

Her cheeks warmed and she checked to make
sure the fire was really out. Besides some thinning smoke, it
seemed to be. She wrinkled her nose. "I'd like that."

A medic approached, her professional mask
slipping as she looked from Silver to Landon. "Have you changed
your mind, Mr. Bower?"

"Yes, he has." Silver tugged his arm and
pushed him to sit on the bumper of the ambulance. "Sit."

He made a funny expression, as though a great
big conflict was going on in his head. Suddenly calm spread over
his features and he nodded. And sat.

The warm, buttery croissant left little
flakes all over Silver's white suit jacket, but she hardly noticed
as she sat flush against Landon's side, rubbing his arm to warm his
goosebumped flesh. The cold from the ocean washed over them, but he
seemed too entranced with the view to notice.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this.
It's beautiful. Peaceful." He smiled and reached over, wiping away
some foam from her latte off her upper lip with his thumb. "Did you
miss it when you went to Hollywood?"

"Not really, I never spent much time enjoying
the view." She rested her head on his shoulder and, for the first
time, really took in the beauty laid out before her. The boats
swaying lazily on the tide, the sun caressing the water in a gentle
glow. Thin clouds gave the sky a grayish caste, but it only added
to the early morning serenity, making everything seem quiet and
still. The color reminded her of Landon's eyes when he looked at
her in a way that made her feel calm. Just being here with him
slowed the rush of life and the restlessness that always wound
around her was gone. She found herself inhaling deep and absorbing
everything, holding it in because this couldn't last.

"Why?"

"Why?" She blinked and tipped her head up to
find him watching her, his head tilted slightly, as though his
entire focus was on her. "Well, I was too busy. My mother got me in
dancing lessons when I was very young, then singing. I was a model
when I was a kid—it's on my portfolio. She did everything to make
sure I'd succeed. I won a few competitions because of her. If you
ask Oriana, she'd probably tell you all our mother cared about was
socializing and shopping, but she did all that for me. She tried to
get Oriana into it, but Oriana wasn't interested. She was a tomboy
and loved sports and our mother didn't know what to do with her . .
. ."

Her chest tightened. She never talked to
anyone about her childhood—well, besides her agent and that was
just background stuff. Going over it all she realized Oriana had
always been a daddy's girl—but Daddy only saw his son.

Landon slid his arm around her shoulders.
"How old were you when your mother died?"

"Nine." She thought back and . . . the
details were fuzzy. Her mother had cried all day, finishing off two
bottles of wine while staring at the second place ribbon Silver had
won, muttering that a tap dancing routine would have gotten them
first place.

"Three girls sung 'Tomorrow'! Three!" Her
mother had moaned and rocked back and forth while researching
something on her laptop. "Next time, you'll dance. I think there's
another competition next week. If it's not too late to sign up . .
. ."

"I'm sorry, Mommy." Silver had hovered by
her mother's side, wishing she could say something to make her feel
better, wishing she hadn't failed her. Her insides hurt and her
stomach felt full of curdled milk. Bouncy curls weighed heavy on
her shoulders and mascara streaks made her face sticky and dirty.
She wanted to rub her eyes, but making them all red would make
mother mad. "I'll practice every day, I promise."

"Yes you will." Her mother had slammed the
laptop shut and lurched forward, scaring Silver. The laptop crashed
to the floor and Antoine came running.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You should go lie down."

"I said I'm fine! Watch your sisters, I'm
going out."

"No. You're not. Let me call dad."

Silver jumped as Landon's grip tightened on
her shoulder, dragging her back to the present. "Hey, where'd you
go?"

"Sorry." She shook her head hard to clear the
haze of memories. "I was just thinking about my mother. The day she
and my brother died . . . well, I messed up. Daddy had my brother,
who was always coming home with medals and trophies. And she had
me. She wanted me to be the best and I wasn't. I just wish . . .
."

"Don't do that. I'm sure she would be proud
of who you've become."

"Who I've become? Most of my acting gigs were
cheesy B movies, flashing my tits and reading corny dialogue. I
kept up with the dancing and the singing, but I never used either."
Inhaling deep, drinking in the fresh ocean air, she shook her head.
"But it doesn't matter. She's gone and Daddy needs me. This team
can make it, right? Maybe this will be the year we win that
cup."

"Maybe." Landon trailed his fingers through
her hair. "But what do
you
want? You can't live for your
parents. Don't you have any dreams of your own?"

Did she?

Uck, the talking about serious stuff was not
her thing. Dean had forced her to do that. She didn't want it from
Landon too. "Okay. Moving on. I called Dean and we agreed. You're
taking a few days off."

Landon groaned. "Why'd you go and do
that?"

"Because I could." She smirked and stuffed a
piece of croissant in his open mouth to keep him quiet. "The doctor
said you were fine, but as a precaution you should rest for a few
days. And that's exactly what you're going to do."

He gave her hair a little tug. "All this
power is getting to your head."

"It is not."

"Well, how about, to make things fair, you
have to do what
I
say now."

Her breath hitched and heart beat into
overdrive. She took a big gulp of cold latte. Swallowed. Stared at
him. "Umm . . . ."

Power sparked in his heavy lidded eyes as he
leaned close. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Her gaze slipped to his full, soft
lips. Then snapped back up. "I just forgot."

He chuckled. "Forgot what exactly?"

"That you're a Dom."

"Really?" He cocked his head to one side. "Is
that a problem for you?"

Maybe.
She finished off her latte and
went perfectly still as he framed her jaw with his hand. "I don't
know."

"If I gave you an order, would you obey?"

Yes! God yes!
She pressed her eyes
shut and dug her nails into her palms. A boat horn sounded and she
started, speaking in a rush. "Please tell me you're teasing
me."

"I'm teasing you." He patted her cheek and
let his hand fall to his lap. "Actually, I was going to
ask
you to come to the forum with me tonight to watch the game."

The request completely deflated her and her
pulse slowed to a discordant thud. Some part of her wished he'd,
well, been serious. Which was crazy. She had more than enough
dealing with one Dom in her life. A Dom she
could
resist.

Sometimes.

Snap out of it, Silver. Landon is your
friend.
Pursing her lips and jutting her chin up, she slapped
his arm. "You scared me, you jerk. Yes, I'll come watch the game
with you. You promised to teach me more about it anyway."

"Yeah, about that . . . ." He scratched his
scruffy chin, his expression abruptly shifting to the playful one
she'd gotten used to. "I need to pick up another suit. My sister
helped me stock my wardrobe—I'm a fashion dud. Do you think you can
spare some time to go shopping with me?"

"Are you kidding? I'm a fashion queen! I know
just the spot and I know just the style and color to complement
your body and your eyes and—" Smacking her hand over her mouth, she
blushed. "That came out wrong."

"Damn, and you had me thinking that I'm not
butt ugly." He sighed and stood, taking both their cups to the
trash by the bench. "Guess all the simpering fans are only after my
money."

"Oh, shut up." Rising gracefully, she lightly
brushed the croissant crumbs from her jacket and straightened her
skirt. "You know very well that you're a stud."

They made their way along the peer arm in
arm, Landon seeming to chew on her words as he admired the view
once again. They'd reached Silver's car before Landon stopped and
turned to face her.

"So you think I'm a stud?" His brow creased
slightly and he held up his hand. "Wait. Don't answer that. I don't
want to know."

"Then you shouldn't have asked." She shoved
him towards the passenger side, then climbed in behind the wheel.
All settled in, she gave him a sideways once over. "I'd do
you."

Landon groaned, covered his eyes with his
hand, and muttered. "Brat."

"Yes, Sir."

The lighthearted remark stole all the fun
from their banter. For the first time, Landon couldn't seem to find
a joking retort. And Silver couldn't get past how easily the formal
address left her lips.

* * * *

Hours later, Silver left Landon in the
player's lounge to take a nap and headed up to her office to see if
she had any real work to do. Anne stood and intercepted her with an
armful of files and a few messages.

"Mr. Richter would like to speak with you
when you have a moment." Anne shuffled back to her desk and added
distractedly. "Oh, and there's a man waiting for you in your
office. He called several times while you were gone—he said your
cell phone was turned off?"

Silver's heels scraped the tiles as she
swiveled towards Anne's desk. "What? No it wasn't! I had it on in
case Dean called!"

Anne shrugged. "Well, he mentioned asking for
an appointment. He's an investor, you know. You really shouldn't
ignore him."