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Illegal Motion: A Loveswept Classic Romance Page 10
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“You never asked,” he responded, flashing her his thigh-melting grin. He gestured at the large tree-filled lots. “It’s as close as I could get to living in the woods and still avoid a long drive to practice.”
Willa glanced sharply at Nick. This was the first time he’d referred to his recent career without sounding bitter. She really wanted to discuss it with him, but wasn’t sure how to approach the subject without causing him any more pain.
She turned her attention out her window as he made several turns, winding deeper into the forest of homes, which would be almost invisible, hidden behind the dense spring foliage in another month or so. “I know you must miss your career. After you clear your name, will you go back to football?”
Nick’s gaze remained focused on the road, but his smile faded somewhat. “Because of the ban, I didn’t play at all last season. I tried to get reinstated a few days ago, but the commissioner wasn’t convinced. The case being dismissed didn’t prove my innocence, as the public made so vocally clear. Even so, the commissioner had based his decision on the fact that I was the only team member to fail the mandatory drug test.”
“Can’t you just take another test?”
Nick’s laughter was more of a bark and lacked any humor. “I have. Twice. Aced them both.” His tone turned sarcastic. “All that earned me was a pat on the back from the commissioner and my coach for doing so well at staying clean. Of course, it’s not a particularly tough accomplishment,” he added bitterly, “when you’ve never done drugs in your life.”
She heard the blows to his pride and the enormity of his loss underlying each word he had spoken. “I’m so sorry, Nick. It’s all so unfair,” she said, her voice hoarse with unshed tears. “What happens next?”
“That’s for the commissioner to decide.” Nick pulled into a winding, tree-lined driveway, then glanced over at Willa. “If everything works out, and I prove my innocence, I hope he’ll lift the ban. Otherwise I’ll be judged on my ability to test clean until the end of next season.” He pulled in front of a cedar and fieldstone house nestled in a grove of oak trees and parked next to a bright red Jeep Eagle.
Willa placed her hand on his arm as he started to open the door. “You know, another man might simply wait out the year, test clean, and use that as his revenge. But there’s more at stake for you than your pride, isn’t there? I mean, no one wants to be thought of as a drug dealer or user, but I get the impression this goes deeper than changing the average citizen’s opinion of you.”
Nick looked up sharply at her words, his defenses lowered for a split second, revealing that she’d scored a direct hit.
“It’s because of the kids, isn’t it?” she asked softly. “The kids at the camp.”
Nick nodded brusquely, shifting his gaze as if something outside of the car had just snagged his attention. After a moment he said, “I try to tell myself it doesn’t matter. But it does.” Willa ran her hand up his arm until it rested on his shoulder. He turned to look at her, finding the tender gesture matched the look in her eyes. The feelings she inspired swirled inside him. He wanted to spill his guts. He wanted to hold her, touch her, kiss her. He loved her.
Clearing his throat to dislodge the lump that had formed there, he also cleared his mind and concentrated on answering her. “I started several summers ago. The coach has run the camp for a long time and always asks the team to volunteer some time. At first I did it for the coach. I have to admit that at first I didn’t think a week or two away from crime and peer pressure could make that much difference to the kids.”
“But it did help, didn’t it?” Her tone made the question more of a statement.
“Yeah, believe it or not. At the least it kept them off the streets.”
“And off drugs.”
Nick raised his eyebrows, and a smile teased the edges of his mouth. “That too. Don’t ask me why they listened to me. My background couldn’t have been more different from theirs. Sometimes I think I learned more from them.”
“You were a role model to them.”
Nick shrugged. “I’m just a guy who loves football and happens to play it fairly well. The media likes to hype that up. A few good seasons and, bam, you’re a role model.”
“They couldn’t have picked a better one as far as I’m concerned,” Willa defended staunchly. She could have sworn his face actually reddened. “My dad didn’t really talk about that part much. It must have been tough, though. That’s a big responsibility to carry around.”
Nick gazed at her intently for another second, then went on. “It is—was. But I remember how I worshiped players as a kid. Dreaming of being one of them was what fueled my desire and helped me achieve my goal of becoming a pro.”
“And so you took the advantage that being a public figure gives you to help the kids at the summer camp.”
Nick nodded. “I can’t seem to stop thinking how I would have felt if something like this had happened to one of my heroes. I mean, I’m no hero, but—”
“But you were to those kids.” Willa couldn’t prevent the intense pride she felt for him from shining in her eyes. “Do you still want to play? After all of this?”
“At first, after my arrest, that’s all I thought about. But lately I don’t know. I’m not so sure anymore. I’m thirty-two, which is old for a player, especially one with my history of injuries.” He pushed himself out of the car. “I probably would have retired in the next year or two. I just wanted to do it on my terms.”
Willa climbed out on her side of the car and met up with Nick in front of it. “What will you do?”
Nick was warmed by the real caring she exhibited. He hadn’t missed her quick assessment of his house and was amused by her apparent concern about his ability to maintain his lifestyle. And the fact that she hadn’t shown a trace of suspicion as to how he might be earning an income these days wasn’t lost on him—or his heart.
A slow smile spread across his face; his blue eyes were twinkling. He picked up Willa’s hand, weaving his fingers through hers, and walked to the arched front door. “What I’m going to do is take you inside, show off my culinary skills, such as they are, and talk about anything except football.”
Nick let the door swing open on its own and tipped her chin up until their eyes met. “Hey, Princess, you okay?”
No! she wanted to shout. I think I’m falling in love with you. Only her pride kept her from blurting it out. His life, his pain, was her first priority, and that precluded burdening him with that sort of declaration. “You know me.” She laughed weakly. “A few hours without food and I get wacky.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, then lowered his lips to hers.
Willa responded to his gentle touch like a flower to the strong rays of the sun. She blossomed under his probing tongue, opening her mouth to his, loving the warm taste of him. It wasn’t until she placed her hands on his chest for support, her knees melting like butter left in the sun, that she realized the full extent of his restraint.
Nick’s heart was pounding so hard she could feel the vibrations trip over her skin until her pulse matched his. He leaned back against the doorframe, pulling her more tightly into his arms, and accidentally pressed the doorbell.
“I don’t know about you,” he said roughly, touching his nose to hers, “but I’ve never heard bells before.”
Relaxing back against him on a helpless laugh, she said, “At least it wasn’t my stomach growling this time.”
He laughed deeply, naturally, and it was a marvelous transformation. Willa noted the crinkles at the corner of his eyes and the hint of a dimple in his cheek. All signs of a man who had once laughed easily and often.
Until eight months ago.
“What brought on that frown?” Nick gazed at her lips, wanting to smooth the soft skin with his tongue until her smile reappeared. “Don’t answer that. Obviously our ten minutes are up.” He pulled her inside, into a large tiled foyer. “Wanna join me in the kitchen and help with lunch?”
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Willa said yes, shamelessly willing to put their problems aside, even if only for a short while. Adopting a mock look of disdain, she said, “When you said this place had good service, I didn’t realize the service was going to be me.”
Nick bit back a comment, content to let her off with a kiss. Short and sweet though it was, he still barely dragged his mouth from hers before the flames of passion could scorch his good intentions. “At least I had faith in you. I could have said the service was lousy, you know.”
“How do you know it won’t be?” His sexy smile made it easy to tease back. Determined to have the last word for a change, she brushed past him. She found the well-equipped kitchen easily, glancing enviously at the cozy breakfast nook tucked into a large bay window. Catching the reflection of her smile in the glass, she was struck by how much and how truly she was enjoying herself.
That realization made it easier to push aside all her questions about what their future might or might not hold.
Nick moved slowly, enjoying the opportunity to appreciate Willa’s well-toned backside. Willa was wearing black fitted trousers with an emerald-green polo shirt that had the club’s emblem stitched into the breast pocket. He’d noticed that emblem right away. He mentally added polo shirts to his growing list of erotic attire. By the time he reached the kitchen, he headed straight for the coldest appliance in the room. Glancing inside the stainless-steel refrigerator, he said, “I’m sure I have enough in here to whip up a decent sandwich. Or would you rather have salad?” He turned to look at Willa, who was wandering around the room, more interested in the various antique cooking implements hanging on the walls than in sizing up the financial ramifications of his high-tech appliances. He was struck by how at home she looked.
She turned and caught him staring. Nick felt his entire body tighten at the obvious desire in her eyes. Desire that had nothing to do with his profession or his income. It was bad enough that he kept picturing her upstairs in his bed, her wild curls spread across his pillowcase.… He quickly looked back at the contents of the fridge, the cold blast of air doing little to cool his overheated imagination.
“Don’t go to any trouble. I’m sure I’ll like whatever you want.” Willa swore she heard him groan. “Nick?” His head was deep into the recesses of the refrigerator, and while it gave her a great view of his buns, Willa wondered what on earth he was doing.
“I have some soda if you want,” came his muffled offer. He finally pulled his head out. “Or I could make iced tea.”
“Water with some ice will be fine,” she answered cautiously, trying to figure out why he was acting so oddly. When he just smiled and nodded, she shrugged it off as her imagination working overtime. Willa turned her attention back to Nick’s unusual decorations. “Where did you find all these old tools?”
“Some belonged to my folks. The rest I picked up at auctions.”
“You like to go to auctions?” she asked in surprise.
“Is that so unusual?”
“Yes. I mean, no. It’s just that I didn’t picture you as a connoisseur of antiques.”
“Athletes have been known to possess some refinement.” He turned to face her. “We’re not all dumb jocks.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that you were lacking in intelligence. And I’d be the last one to—”
“I know, I know,” Nick broke in, his voice gentler now. “I’m sorry, Willa. It’s just that after years of putting up with the media’s constant stereotyping of athletes, I guess I get a little testy.” When Willa raised her eyebrows at his use of the word “little,” Nick added, “Anyway, a few rusty kitchen implements hardly qualify me as a connoisseur of anything.”
“Rusty or new, would you happen to have a clock?”
“What? Oh, don’t worry, we have plenty of time.”
“It’s not that. I just wanted to make sure we hadn’t broken the ten-minute limit between arguments.”
“Or kisses.” Nick fought the urge to drag her upstairs to his bed.
All that talk about refinement and all you can think about is Neanderthal lovemaking tactics. Nick turned back to the counter and started slicing tomatoes and ham, all the while debating the wisdom of handling sharp knives while in the same room with Willa. He glanced again at her. He was thinking how great she looked in his kitchen, wondering how much greater she’d look in his bed. Could he actually be contemplating the whole ring-on-the-finger routine? Especially with the very woman who’d helped create the mess in the first place?
Nick dropped ice into two glass tumblers and filled them with water. I’ve just been celibate too long. Maybe if I spread that beautiful hair across the sheets for real. I’d get over this.
He’d tried to convince himself of that the past few nights when he was alone in bed, hard with wanting her. But with her in person, in the cold light of day, he wondered if a lifetime spent in her arms would be enough.
He carried the plates to the table, realizing as he watched her that darkness wasn’t a prerequisite for getting hard, and sat down before he attracted Willa’s attention to his arousal.
“I wish I had a bay window in my kitchen.” She smiled briefly at him before taking her seat. “You said something about being in the woods again. Where did you live before?”
“I was raised in Vermont. Not that Virginia is similar, but I feel closer to Vermont somehow when I’m surrounded by trees.” Nick’s face took on a faraway look. “Who knows, maybe when this is all over, I’ll move back north.”
Almost choking on her sandwich, Willa still forced herself to take note of his use of the word “I.” The mere thought of him moving far away was physically painful, but however much it hurt, she accepted the fact that her fantasy of happy-ever-after would remain just that. A fantasy. He’d all but told her straight out there would be no “us” after his name was cleared. But she’d deal with that harsh truth later. Her feelings for Nick ran deeper than she’d ever imagined possible, and foolish or not, she desperately wanted whatever time they had left.
Silence descended over the small table, but the desire between them fairly screamed as they picked at their food. Nick gave up trying to eat when he realized he’d systematically taken all the poppy seeds off his roll.
As if by silent agreement, Willa and Nick started to clear away the few dishes. Their hands brushed and the charged atmosphere intensified a few thousand watts. Willa moved her hand away, but Nick grabbed it, holding it until she looked up at him. “It never ceases to amaze me how simply touching you can affect me so much.” Holding her hand, he moved around the table, until barely an inch separated them.
“Nick, I …”
“Ding,” he whispered. “Our ten minutes are definitely up.” He closed the distance between them and pressed her back against the round oak table, then kissed her.
Her taste, the texture of her lips, the sweet smell of her enthralled him. When she deepened the kiss, his fingers began to tremble from the effort of restraint. She turned her head slightly, moaning softly as he took the invitation and continued his sensual assault along the soft line of her jaw, trailing tender kisses to the collar of her shirt.
“Willa.” He groaned against her heated skin. “I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything in my life.” He summoned his strength and pulled back to look at her. It was a calculated risk, because the look on her face would decide the fate of their relationship.
Her lips parted slightly as she choked back a soft gasp, and he was a goner. He wrapped his arms around her, molding her to him, unable to decide whether he’d won or lost.
His kisses dipped to the opening at the front of her shirt; his hands slid up to cup her breasts, kneading them softly until she thought she’d scream from the need he’d created in her. She gasped, letting go of the table and weaving her fingers through the jumble of dark hair curling against his neck. She reveled in the feel of him and took full advantage of the knowledge that for now, she alone had the right to touch him, taste him.
 
; For the first time Willa knew real lovemaking. An equal sharing of each other. Nick would share his body with her and demand she do the same. He would take precious care of the gift of her body—but what would he do with her heart?
She felt her shirt being tugged from her pants and a second later Nick’s lips grazed her nipples through the lace of her bra. And she realized that Nick Logan was as necessary to her survival as the air she breathed.
Her decision made, she let go, allowing her intense sensations to guide her. She quickly grew impatient to be as close to him as she could be. She wanted to melt into him, fuse her body with his. She drew his face to hers and kissed him, watching him closely as she told him with her lips and tongue that she would be an equal partner in this seduction. Suddenly kissing him wasn’t enough; she needed to touch his skin as he’d touched hers, taste him as he’d tasted her. She pulled at his shirt, swearing softly at the fabric that hindered her goal.
“You do have a colorful way with words, Red.” Nick chuckled against her skin.
“I, uh, guess princesses don’t swear at a time like this, do they?”
Nick’s teasing smile turned tender, her lightly spoken words unable to cover her vulnerability. “Your response to me is beautiful and honest. How could I ever want more?”
He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, showing her just how strongly she affected him. Feathering kisses over her eyelids and cheekbones, he finally groaned and buried his face in her hair. “Willa, if you don’t tell me to stop now, in a minute I may not be able to.” This time he didn’t have the nerve to look at her face. He was too stunned by the depth of his need for her to say yes.
Willa loosened her fingers still twisted in his shirt, letting them trail slowly across his shoulders. She pushed gently until she could look in his eyes. “I want to make love with you, Nick Logan.” Her green eyes sparkled, defenses gone, imploring him.
“You sure about this, Princess?”
In a sultry tone she added, “Please hurry, you don’t want to waste your ten minutes.”
Nick’s smile turned downright predatory. “I’m going to need a hell of a lot longer than ten minutes to love you the way I want to.”