On the one hand, she had director Harrison Smith pressuring her not just to take the role he’d created for her but to let him back into her life. Her daughter was getting married, and instead of enjoying the planning, Cassandra felt more distant from Sabrina than ever. Her youngest son couldn’t find himself and her oldest wouldn’t cut the youngest any slack. On top of it all, John was undergoing the worst career crisis of his life and Cassandra didn’t know how to help him.
At least he wasn’t alone on New Year’s. He’d said he had company, which in John’s world could mean a one-night stand, but something in his voice told her otherwise. The annoyance in his tone indicated he hadn’t appreciated the interruption. Normally John took her calls without question. Cassandra hoped there was something special about this woman, because her son needed happiness in his life. She just hoped whoever she was, she liked a close-knit family, because that’s what they were.
She picked up the phone and dialed her youngest son’s cell phone.
“Hello, Ben,” she said when he answered on the first ring.
“Did you speak to John about the money for the gym?” he asked.
Cassandra sighed. She loved all her children, but truly Ben was the most selfish.
“Happy New Year, darling.” Lowering herself onto a cushioned lounge chair, she eased back against the pillow. “Yes, I tried to talk to him, but the timing was wrong. John was busy. He said he had company and I think it was a woman. You know we have to approach your brother at the right time. He’s got so much on his mind right now.”
“And I don’t? I could lose this opportunity,” Ben said.
“Not on New Year’s Eve, Benjamin.” Cassandra didn’t want to outright scold him. After all, he’d never had things quite fall his way, not the way John had. “What if you try talking to your brother yourself?
” she asked.
“He hates me, Mom. He never wants to help, and when he does, he blames me when things go wrong. But he can’t say no to you. He never could. This is the big thing. I can feel it,” Ben said, his tone pleading.
Her heart squeezed tighter in her chest. “I’ll talk to him as soon as I can,” she promised.
“Thanks. I have to go.”
“I love you. Happy New—”
The phone line disconnected before she could finish.
Cassandra sighed. That was Ben. Well, at least she’d reached Sabrina and then Roper, wishing them both Happy New Years and receiving one in return.
She rose and headed inside to change and get ready for the party she was attending. The most mellow one of the year. A ladies-only affair among her closest friends, where she could end the old year the way she planned to start the new.
Avoiding her ex-lover Harrison Smith.
AMY AWOKE WITH A SLIGHT
headache and fuzzy memories of an incredible night with a sweet man she’d once thought was anything but.
She was glad she’d been wrong about him. As she stretched, she rolled over, and when she nearly fell face-first off the couch, she suddenly remembered where she’d spent the night.
On Roper’s couch.
In Roper’s apartment.
After that kiss.
“Oh, my God,” she groaned, tossing her arm over her face.
“Good morning,” he said in a gruff voice.
She peeked out and saw Roper standing over her with a glass of orange juice in hand. “Hi,” she managed to say through the fuzzy cotton taste in her mouth.
Knowing she’d have to face him sometime, she scooted upright, bending her knees in front of her. “Is that for me?” she asked, eyeing the cold juice hopefully.
He nodded. “I figured you’d be up soon.” He handed her the glass.
“Fresh squeezed?”
He rolled his eyes. “Now, that’s pushing your luck.”
She laughed. “I was curious just how far your culinary talent went.”
She took a sip and then downed the glass in two big gulps. “Mmm.
That is so good. I’m sorry I fell asleep.” The last thing she remembered was planning his seduction while waiting for him to bring her a blanket.
“Me, too.” His intense gaze burned into hers.
She swallowed hard. “I hope it wasn’t inconvenient having me stay over.”
“Only if you consider me lying awake in my bed knowing you were right in the next room inconvenient.” He spoke like a man who’d been a gentleman but who’d definitely had second thoughts.
Thank goodness she couldn’t hold her champagne. “You’re a good guy, John,” she said, calling him by his given name.
“I like when you call me that.” His face actually flushed. “As for being a good guy, I’m pretty sure it was a first.”
She untangled herself from the blanket he’d covered her with. “I really should be getting home. The daytime doorman will let me in without a problem.” She hoped. She got up and folded the covers, leaving them in a neat pile on the couch. “I’ll just change and give you back your sister’s clothes.”
“There’s no rush. Why don’t you wear them home and I’ll get them from you the next time I see you.”
Meaning he wanted there to be a next time. So did she. But she had a plan for her life, and while last night she’d gotten carried away in the moment, helped by the alcohol, she had to put the brakes on here and now. Even if he was the guy she’d gotten to know last night and not the showman from the wedding, she needed time and space to get a foothold in her new life before getting involved in a relationship.
But she wasn’t going to make an issue out of a magnanimous gesture. “Are you sure your sister won’t mind?”
“She hasn’t stayed over since getting engaged, and even if she wanted to, there are more clothes in the closet. Trust me, she won’t care if you borrow some things.” He grinned then, a sexy gesture meant to sway her, and it worked.
“Okay, but I’m going to look pretty ridiculous wearing these sweats and my high heels from last night.”
“You’ll look cute, not ridiculous.” He ran his finger down the bridge of her nose, over the freckles she’d always found embarrassing because they made her look so young. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it, and the gesture felt incredibly intimate and sensual.
“Excuse me for a minute, okay?” she said, slipping by him so she could head for the bathroom before she got caught up in how delicious he looked wearing low-slung, unbuttoned jeans and no shirt.
His hair had been messed either from sleep or from running a hand through it in place of a comb or brush. First thing in the morning he looked endearingly sexy, and she’d have to convince herself not to notice if she wanted to get out of here quickly, with a minimum of fuss.
She was determined to make her morning-after-nothing-happened escape, thank you very much.
“Amy, are you okay in there?” Roper knocked on the bathroom door, startling her back to reality.
“Fine! I’ll be out in a sec.” She brushed her teeth with minty toothpaste and one finger before drawing a deep breath and heading out to face him again.
He’d slipped on a royal-blue Renegades sweatshirt and a pair of Nike sneakers.
No less handsome, she thought, holding back a frustrated frown.
He grabbed his keys from the bowl by the door.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He narrowed his gaze. “Where do you think? I’m taking you home.”
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. It’s broad daylight now.”
“And I’ll feel better knowing that your doorman is willing to let you inside the apartment without your key.” His tone left no room for argument. Neither did the fact that he picked up a garment bag in which he’d obviously hung her outfit. He handed her shoes to her and waited while she slipped them on.
“I feel silly,” she muttered as she followed him into the hall.
“Adorable,” he corrected her. Placing one hand on her back, he led her to the elevator. A moment later, the door opened and they stepped inside.
People joined them at various floors, leaving no time for conversation, and Amy was relieved. She tried not to feel as if she was sneaking out of a man’s apartment in last night’s clothes, but she wasn’t a pro at this. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t slept with him, she was embarrassed, anyway. She couldn’t help but feel people were looking at her—and him—and staring.
Because John was famous in this city and was certainly well known in his own apartment building, Amy figured it wasn’t her imagination, nor was she being paranoid. By the time the elevator came to a halt on the ground level, she practically ran toward the revolving doors.
Roper watched Amy teeter on those silly heels, which made her look both sexy and cute at the same time. He wanted to yell out and tell her they could take his car instead of a cab, but he figured that would call even more attention to her, something she obviously didn’t want.
He could understand her need to escape. She wasn’t used to strangers gawking at her the way he was. Since most women—heck,
all
the women he’d dated up until now—
liked
the fact that being with him put them in the spotlight, this was but another facet of her personality that made Amy unique. And special.
Ironically he was more convinced than ever that he’d done the right thing by not having sex with her last night. Now she would appreciate his sense of decency. No matter how hard it had been and how much sleep it had cost him.
Instead of following her through the revolving doors, he hit the handicapped automatic door and caught up with her outside on the sidewalk.
Just in time for the paparazzi to greet them with flashing lightbulbs and microphones shoved into their faces.
ROPER FENDED OFF THE
vultures by answering their questions about who had spent the night in his apartment with deliberately chatty nonanswers, giving Amy time to escape.
From the corner of his eye, he saw her flag and get into a yellow cab before the press could stop her. He still held on to her clothes but decided not to worry about that now. No matter how hard he prodded, nobody in the group of reporters was willing to divulge their source or tell him why they’d chosen this morning to stake him out. It made no sense. Despite his recent notoriety, he was small-time news for a New Year’s Day morning.
Eventually he returned to his apartment, which felt emptier somehow without Amy in it, and he spent the day watching Bowl games with some teammates who showed up uninvited. He was grateful for the company and even ordered pizza as a show of goodwill. He might have cooked to impress Amy, but the guys could damn well eat takeout.
He called her to apologize and to make sure she’d gotten home okay, but her voice recording picked up. He didn’t know whether she was deliberately not answering the phone or if she had plans for the day. He left a message along with his number.
She never returned his call, which left him feeling surprisingly bummed out.
He awoke the next day, a Tuesday, feeling as if he’d never slept at all. Not a good sign. He’d hoped the coming year would be kinder than the last.
He had a meeting with Micki scheduled at the Hot Zone offices that morning—at her request. He figured he could pump her for information about Amy then. Roper hadn’t wanted to bother her yesterday, because he knew how rare her time with her husband and daughter actually was. After his New Year’s Day incident with the press, Roper could understand the appeal of solitude.
“Maybe I ought to buy myself an island,” he muttered. “Oh, that’s right, I can’t. I’m frigging cash poor and tapped out.” Okay, he knew that was an exaggeration.
He’d made damn good investments with his money and had prepared for the future from day one of his first big contract. He never wanted to be one of those athletes who pissed away their money and were left with nothing to show for it after their successful career was over. But his family was spending cash like water and he was the spout.
He had no choice but to keep an eye on things—in case his career ended sooner than planned. He rubbed his shoulder and hoped the rehab and physical therapy would do the trick.
He finished his cappuccino, brewed in a state-of-the-art machine he’d bought last year, and decided he couldn’t wait to meet with Micki later this morning. He picked up his cell phone, needing to talk to his best friend now.
Roper wanted nothing more than some basic information on how to win Amy over. Who better than Micki, who’d rented Amy her apartment, to fill him in?
Roper already figured a girl like Amy might be intimidated by his status and celebrity. Last night he’d questioned the wisdom of getting involved with her once he’d discovered she was living and working in New York. One evening in her company had shown him how different she was from the other women he’d dated. He could no longer just walk away. He was determined to show her he was worth the hassle that came along with him, because he realized they could have a good time together.
And Roper believed in good times. Man, he could use some….
THE WOMAN LOOKED SPOOKED,
he thought, watching as she ducked into the nearest cab, running from the paparazzi he’d notified. She wore sweats, a sweatshirt and high heels. A ridiculous combination, he thought. Just as ridiculous as the fact that her outfit from last night still dangled from Roper’s hands. He snickered. It’s about time Roper looked ridiculous.
He intended to make sure the media continued to know where Roper was and when, keeping him in the news, maintaining the negative press.
Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, he turned and walked down the street, away from the luxury building. He had no doubt the swarm of paparazzi would continue to circle and create trouble for John Roper.
NEW YEAR’S DAY
in a new town was a bummer, Amy thought, staring at the walls of her small apartment. She could pass the day alone, cooped up inside, or she could brave the cold and hit the department stores. She’d already gone shopping with Sophie and Annabelle for a new work wardrobe, but she still needed heavy sweaters and clothes for the change in climate. Even if shopping hadn’t been a necessity, keeping busy was. Anything to stop her from thinking about John Roper and the media circus that was a part of his life.
She could fall hard for the man, that much she knew. Never mind that he had one hot body and he’d singed her with kisses that left her wanting more. He was sensitive and he cared for his family, he cooked, for goodness’ sake, and he’d decorated his own apartment. Yet what should be a perfect start to a possible relationship wasn’t. Everything about John Roper and his life was detrimental to her goals and needs.