The Striker's Chance (5 page)

Her hands slid to press flat against his chest, where the warmth of his body radiated through the soft cotton of his T-shirt. He flared his hand on her lower back, pulling her even closer as the other one moved to rest between her shoulder blades. She knew he could feel the clasp of her bra through the thin material of her dress. As she imagined him unhooking it and slipping the straps over her shoulders, imagined the lips that probed hers making the same movements on her bare breasts, she shuddered and moaned, her response involuntary but deeply, vividly female.

Kepler made a sound like he’d just tasted something utterly delicious and the pressure of his mouth increased. Blood pounded in her veins as the rest of the world fell away. There was only the touch of his hands, the hard lines of his body, the gentle exploration of his tongue. She parted her lips, eager to welcome him deeper, and he responded hungrily.

The jingle of keys in the kitchen doorway was like a bucketful of cold water on her overheated senses. She and Kepler jolted apart like guilty teenagers.

Leslie-Ann stood with one hand on her hip, looking extremely displeased, a middle-aged couple behind her. While the husband seemed amused, the wife gave Kepler a quick onceover and shot Holly a blatantly impressed look.

“We were just leaving,” Kepler said huskily, grabbing Holly’s hand and leading her through the kitchen. They had to pass the couple as they snaked through the doorway, and he paused long enough to say, “Granite countertops—great stuff,” before practically dragging her to the foyer and out the front door.

As they burst into the bright summer sunshine, the full impact of what had happened hit Holly like a ton of bricks. For a moment she was paralyzed with fear. If anyone found out about this, she would lose her job. Her stomach began a sickening, anxious churn. That one kiss could cost her entire livelihood and dash any hopes she had of expanding her career beyond North Carolina.

Then Kepler pushed her against the side of her car, pinning her body with his own as his hands rose to cup her cheeks.

“I don’t think I’ll be making an offer,” he murmured as he brought his face down to hers.

Bolstered by the image of Alan Brady pointing his finger in her face as he fired her, she found the resolve to clamp her hands on Kepler’s shoulders and hold him back. He paused, and she squirmed out from under him and walked briskly to the driver’s side.

“Come on,” she pressed, not trusting herself to look at him as she unlocked the car. “We have a lot more to see.”

He dropped into the seat beside her and she pulled out of the cul-de-sac so fast the tires squealed on the asphalt.

“I thought we could look at something in Myers Park next,” Holly said, trying to recover the professional distance she’d so fervently coached herself to maintain barely an hour earlier. “It’s an older neighborhood, more central, maybe a little more fun.”

She could feel his eyes on her. She studied the road ahead as if it might give her an answer to this predicament.

“We’re two single adults, Holly, we didn’t do anything wrong. Why are you acting like we did?”

“Because I’m getting paid to be your PR manager, not to get personal. Not to, uh—”

“Kiss me? Don’t try to put some PR spin on it. We kissed. And I thoroughly enjoyed it,” he added with a seductive growl that had her knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.

Suddenly she was reminded of the press search she’d compiled when first given this assignment. She’d trawled through years and years of coverage by the British newspapers. For every write-up of an outstanding goal, there was an inch of gossip column space detailing his off-the-pitch antics.

What came to mind now were all the photos of Kepler emerging from nightclubs with his arm draped over a woman. Rarely the same one twice, and even more rarely a woman anyone had heard of. Unlike those among his teammates who used their fame to leverage trysts with high-profile actresses and pop stars, he favored the impossibly beautiful, low-paid young women who probably spent their entire wages on getting the look needed to gain entry to these sorts of venues and dreamed of snagging a rich boyfriend once inside. To them, he was a chance at a different kind of life.

To Kepler, they were simple playthings. Anonymous. Disposable.

She glanced at him, and the distance between them seemed to multiply.

He was charming, for sure, but she was no starry-eyed girl drunk on expensive champagne. And she wasn’t about to join his long list of conquests. A fresh resolve stiffened her spine and cooled her blood.

“Let’s leave it there,” she admonished. “We were rude and disrespectful to that realtor, and I let myself get caught up in the moment. None of it was appropriate, and we’re not going to mention it again, okay?”

Kepler glared at her for a long minute, then his face closed up the way it had in the park when they first met. He slumped in his seat and stared out the window.

“Whatever you say.”

Chapter Five

Kepler glanced at the enormous clock mounted over the pitch. Discovery had twenty minutes left in the match against Pittsburgh Steel, and they were a goal down. They needed to score, and quickly.

One of the Pittsburgh players had tripped and badly twisted his ankle, and Kepler enjoyed a few minutes of rest while the medics tended to the injured man.

He swiped his wristband across his forehead. Soaked with sweat, his sky-blue shirt clung to his skin. The rest of his teammates were so inexperienced and lacking in technical skill that he had to play as if he were the only one on the field. After seventy minutes of constantly covering the ball, he was beginning to feel the toll on his body. His chest was tight, his breathing short and hot, and his leg throbbed in complaint.

The medics bundled the Pittsburgh player onto a stretcher. His moment’s respite was over. Time to get his head back in the game.

Out of nowhere, he thought about Holly.

Her cheeks had felt like rose petals under his fingers, and the curve of her waist had stalked his daydreams for days. He’d seen another side to her in that ostentatious house, a side that was funny and lighthearted and spontaneous. He liked that new angle on her personality. Liked it a lot.

But it had disappeared as quickly as it had emerged, and before he knew it she was explaining which utilities providers he could choose from as they walked through the second property, a four-bedroom built in the 1920s.

Myers Park seemed to be a friendlier, less extravagant neighborhood. He’d liked the house’s deep, shady lot, and the wraparound porch reminded him of old colonial mansions in South Africa.

“I’ll take it,” he’d informed the realtor.

Holly had gaped at him, her professional demeanor finally falling away. “You don’t want to see any more? Or take some time to think about your offer?”

He’d turned to the realtor. “What’s the asking price?”

The jovial, balding man blinked in hopeful surprise. “$1.5 million.”

“I can write a check.”

As Holly had driven him back to the hotel with her lips pursed, it occurred to him that what he thought was an efficient, practical way to accomplish an errand probably seemed arrogant and cavalier. He glanced at her smooth profile and considered explaining that he’d sold his London house for about seven times the price of the one in Myers Park, that he’d seen enough properties over the last decade to know exactly what he wanted, and that after a few international moves he’d gotten good at making major decisions very quickly.

Then he’d somewhat petulantly decided he didn’t owe her an explanation and didn’t say another word.

The game was resuming now, and the substitute Pittsburgh sent on looked hungry for action. Reluctantly, he shoved Holly’s image to the back of his mind. Then he shook his head to clear it and focused on the messy clamor of men that had formed around the ball.

Suddenly his teammate Tyson burst out of the group with the ball at his feet. He made swift work of the pitch and caught Kepler’s eye just as two Pittsburgh players closed in on him.

Kepler sprang into motion, feinting left and throwing off his nearest opponent before cutting right and smoothly receiving Tyson’s pass.

He had a clear path to Pittsburgh’s goal, but his opponents would be hot on his heels. Adrenaline began to pump through his veins as he threw himself into a sprint, carefully controlling the ball at his feet as he closed the distance to the goal.

His lungs burned, his head pounded, and again he thought of Holly, who hadn’t traveled with the team and was undoubtedly watching the game on TV back in Charlotte.

And he realized that sometimes, the only way to win was not to let anything stand in the way.

A trickle of sweat ran into his eyes as they locked with the goalie’s. The Pittsburgh players thundered up around him. Tyson wouldn’t make it in time to help him. This was his chance.

A roar rose in his ears until it was all he could hear. Darkness consumed his peripheral vision, leaving only the line from the ball to the goal.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. The muscles in his right leg contracted, and he heard the satisfying
thwap
as his toe sent the ball hurtling into space even before his brain processed the kick. The white sphere flew through the air, the goalkeeper leaped to catch it...

Then the net shuddered as the ball landed squarely between the posts.

The noise of the pitch came rushing back, his vision returned to normal, and then Tyson was slapping him on the back. Two other teammates were hooting victoriously in his ear. The small crowd of blue-clad Discovery fans jumped up and down in the stands, chanting the nickname he was disappointed to see had followed him to the States. “Kill-er! Kill-er! Kill-er!”

Kepler looked into one of the TV cameras mounted on the side of the pitch to film the live broadcast. He pointed into the lens.

That was for you
,
Holly.

* * *

“Yes,” Holly shrieked as the ball hit the net. She jumped up from the couch and punched the air. “Yes, yes, yes!”

The words echoed dully in her empty living room, and although she felt mildly sheepish as she dropped back into her seat, she couldn’t stop grinning.

She took another slug of beer from the bottle sweating on the coffee table and retrieved her notepad from the floor, where she’d dropped it in her excitement. She scribbled her thoughts and impressions hastily. Later she would review them and hopefully derive some strategic ideas.

Kepler’s teammates were congratulating him—a great image. Maybe one of the sports photographers would get some usable shots for their promotional materials. The crowd chanting “Killer” was slightly unhelpful, but she’d have to live with it until she could get some other nickname going. Maybe she could plant people in the audience?

Kepler turned to the camera. He looked so calm and unsurprised, as if it had just been a matter of time. As if he’d known he would make it happen. His eyes were rich, dark pools as he stared into the lens. He offered the hint of a secretive smile and then pointed.

Holly’s pen fell from her hand as she gazed slack-jawed at the TV.

Something in his look burned into her heart like a laser, setting her whole body aflame in a way she hadn’t felt since—well, since he’d kissed her in that house in Ballantyne.

Every logical cell in her body told her loudly and clearly that Kepler was bad news. Even if his reputation hadn’t preceded him, she’d witnessed it herself. Giving out a fake name. Pulling her into some pointless husband-and-wife charade. Throwing his considerable wealth around as though he couldn’t wait to part with it. Plus she’d heard from Sven that he was short-tempered at practice, made no effort to gel with his teammates and routinely ignored the manager’s strategic instructions.

Discovery’s most expensive player and its biggest liability. Unpredictable and uncontrollable. Every PR manager’s nightmare.

And Holly wanted him so badly that she ached.

As did every other woman watching, she reminded herself as she retrieved her pen. In fact, if she could figure out what about him was so appealing, she could incorporate that into her publicity plan. She’d been so focused on the family demographic, it hadn’t occurred to her that Kepler might also be a huge draw for wives and girlfriends otherwise reluctant to attend sporting events with the men in their lives.

The game had resumed on the TV screen, and although Pittsburgh were working hard to score a second goal, Discovery seemed buoyed by their equalizing point and were holding off their opponents with more energy than they’d had since the first five minutes. With one ear tuned into the match commentary, she began jotting down some ideas.

It was time to take the campaign nationwide. After all, Discovery only played in Charlotte every other game or so. She needed people in other cities to turn up to see the boys in sky blue, and Kepler was her best shot at giving the team some national coverage.

Maybe an interview in one of the big women’s magazines? Probably not—the interview would have to center around relationships or love advice, and those were topics she wanted to keep as distant from Kepler as possible.

How could she communicate his appeal to women while also keeping his personality under tight rein?

She took a thoughtful sip of beer as she watched him lope up and down the pitch, his long stride making quick work of the distance, his gait smooth and nimble for such a tall man. She recalled the taut muscles in his legs in the medics’ room, the hard curves of his upper arms as she’d gripped them...

Holly took another swig from the bottle, this time in an effort to cool her rapidly rising temperature.

That’s when it hit her.

A
fitness article.
Facts on his diet and workout routine would give the illusion of getting to know him on a personal level without risking any serious romantic questions.

“This deserves another beer.” She’d risen halfway from the couch when her cell phone rang.

She didn’t recognize the number, which had a New York City area code.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Holly?”

“Speaking.” She glanced at the TV as she muted the sound. Discovery were holding Pittsburgh off at 1-1 with only a few minutes left.

“This is Sharon Gibson, head of communications at LKC Energy.”

Holly’s attention sharpened at the mention of Charlotte Discovery’s main sponsor. The power company had its executive headquarters in New York City, but the bulk of their operations were run from Charlotte.

“Hi, Sharon,” she said with as much professional smoothness as she could muster, regretting that bottle of beer. “What can I do for you?”

Sharon chuckled, and Holly imagined a chic, suit-clad New Yorker spinning her chair to gaze out the window at Central Park. In fact Holly had no idea where LKC Energy’s offices were located—she’d only been to New York once on vacation—but she held the image in her mind.

“That’s a good question. You can do quite a lot, I hope.”

Holly paused, unsure whether she should speak. Sharon saved her the wonder by continuing, “I’ve been watching the de Klerk campaign with interest. Building the LKC Energy Stadium and sponsoring Discovery was one of our biggest projects to date, and we were all disappointed when the team failed to perform.”

Holly held her breath as her stomach flipped. Was this about the yellow card last Saturday? She thought she’d handled that so well, spinning the coverage to focus on Kepler’s potential as Discovery’s first big European player rather than the incident, although there had been that fairly hostile write-up in the
Recorder
from Evan Barstow. But that was only one paper and—

“De Klerk came to us with a tough reputation, but so far you’ve handled it brilliantly.” Sharon’s calm tone cut into Holly’s frantic thinking.

“Oh, good,” she breathed, unable to conceal the relief in her voice.

Sharon chuckled again, a sound that told Holly in no uncertain terms who was the suave city director and who was the North Carolina hayseed.

“Has he been hard to handle?”

“He’s a breeze,” she lied.
It’s just my libido I can’t control.

“That’s not what I hear from Sven Brock.”

Holly smacked her forehead. Of course, she was probably on the phone to the team’s manager every other day.

“You know what athletes at his level are like,” Holly replied, hoping she sounded effortlessly savvy. “I let him think he’s making the decisions, and we get along fine.”

“I think you could give Sven some lessons on ego management,” Sharon agreed, and Holly closed her eyes in gratitude. “He told me you took de Klerk to look at houses as though that was crazy. Personally I think it was a stroke of genius, and judging from today’s match, it produced the kind of performance we’d expected.”

Holly fought a sudden, irrational urge to remind Sharon that Kepler had a first name. “Like I said, it’s all down to giving him the impression of control.”

“But we know who really holds the strings.” Sharon laughed. Holly echoed her reaction, but she had to force it. Kepler was one of the most fiercely independent athletes she’d met, and as much as that frustrated her, she also grudgingly admired him for it. She knew it was right to tell this woman what she wanted to hear, yet on some level she felt she was betraying Kepler.

“Let me cut to the chase. De Klerk is an asset for Discovery’s potential as a team, sure, but he’s also an investment for LKC Energy. As a result of your efforts both in and out of the press, his public image is already turning around. We’ve had some early offers, but we feel that with sustained good coverage over the rest of the season plus a top-three finish for Discovery in the Eastern Conference, we could sell de Klerk to any other Championship League team—maybe even an overseas side—for a hefty return on what we paid.”

Holly frowned. “But LKC Energy is just the sponsor—the company doesn’t hold any shares in the club.”

“It’s a complicated financial arrangement,” Sharon said dismissively. “LKC Energy is a subsidiary of LKC Group, an investment vehicle with a majority shareholding from Abbott Investors, who also own a private equity firm that trades as Abbott Partners...”

“Who own the majority shareholding in Discovery,” Holly supplied, recognizing the name. “Got it.”

“Point being,” Sharon continued, “that de Klerk is just like any other kind of investment. We bought him cheap, and we aim to sell him high.”

LKC Energy yanked him out of South Africa, dragged him all the way to Charlotte, only to sell him after four or five months?

Holly stared at the television screen as she listened in mute disgust. Discovery had tied with Pittsburgh, and the two teams were shaking hands before filing out of the stadium. Kepler exchanged a quick, friendly word with Pittsburgh’s captain, both men smiling as they each vigorously pumped the other’s hand.

“What about Kepler? What if he doesn’t want to go?”

Sharon snorted, an undignified sound that jarred with her sleek demeanor. “Why would he want to stay at a struggling team if he had a better offer somewhere else? He’s only here because he’s desperate. But you’re changing all that for him.”