Illegal Motion: A Loveswept Classic Romance Read online

  “Well, Ms. Trask will probably be at least as formidable as L.T., maybe even harder to bench.” His smile hardened a bit as he glanced down at two of the more tangible rewards of a successful career, proudly displayed on his scarred fingers. “But I’ve got a lot more riding on this than a shot at another Super Bowl ring.” The gleam in his eyes reflected his fierce pride and determination as he faced Sky. “If Ms. Trask wants to mend broken athletes, then she can start by working on this knee of mine.”

  Oh my God, what did I do? Willa gripped the frame of the heavy oak door for support. At that moment the old saying about eavesdroppers never hearing anything good about themselves seemed an understatement.

  Her mind reeled at the implications of what she’d overheard. A swirl of sickening dread coiled in her stomach as she slowly admitted to herself that Nick Logan’s suspicions could very easily be true.

  Eric Miller. That conniving jerk. She recalled his endless questions about her friendship with Doc, and all of those packages she’d delivered that he’d claimed were just vitamin supplements. It all came together with horrific clarity.

  “But I didn’t know,” she whispered against the palm of her hand. Until a few minutes ago Nick Logan had meant no more to her than a name on the Jags’ roster. She vaguely recalled the media hubbub over a local star being arrested for possession of drugs, but she hadn’t paid attention. After her painful breakup with Eric, she’d made a point of avoiding local sports news, especially anything concerning the Jaguars.

  Her emotions rioting, she tried to calm herself and concentrate on the past. Because of her heavy class schedule, she’d visited Doc less than usual last year, but she couldn’t recall meeting any players. Except Eric. How had Nick even found out about her? She was certain from his brief look of shock that he’d never seen her before, either. Her dates with Eric had never included any of his teammates.

  Reacting on instinct, she started to go back into the training room, ready to tell Nick her side of the story and offer her help. But the impulse died quickly as she remembered his mocking smile and the hard certainty she’d heard in his deep voice as he’d talked about her with Sky.

  Willa needed to sort things out before she faced Nick. She was almost running by the time she reached the sanctuary of her office.

  Once inside, she quickly closed the door, then leaned heavily against it. Instead of focusing on Eric and her implied guilt, her mind conjured up the image of Nick Logan. Even lounging in the doorway, he’d exuded power. From the thick mass of dark curls that trailed over his snowy-white collar to the broad shoulders encased in a black suit jacket that couldn’t have come off a rack, leaning on a cane that looked so incongruous next to thighs noticeably well developed, even in tailored pants. He made her feel petite. She had to admit it had been a strangely pleasant sensation. Around most men, her five-foot-ten-inch frame made her feel gawky and unfeminine. Yet after spending most of her twenty-five years around gyms and training centers, she’d seen plenty of well-built bodies.

  No, it wasn’t his size that intimidated her. She was an expert on dealing with people who thought of intimidation as a career asset. It was his sheer presence. Eyes the brilliant blue of a cold mountain lake; the glittering surface enticing, but with something darker, more menacing lying just beneath. His scrutiny had been so unnerving that if she hadn’t been angry at leaving Sky unspotted, she doubted she’d have been able to string two coherent words together.

  Willa tilted her head back against the door, then jumped at the sound of someone knocking on it. She barely had time to turn around before it inched open. The piercing blue eyes of Nick Logan met hers. And his flashing grin threw her off balance. Pulling her gaze away from him, she turned and walked behind her desk. Assuming he was here for a confrontation, she purposely sat down.

  But as she watched him walk toward her and sit in the chair directly across the desk, she prayed he wouldn’t call her bluff.

  When he finally spoke, the contrite tone of his voice was at direct odds with the flash of light in his eyes. “Sorry to barge in, but could you spare a minute? I’d like to have a word with you.”

  Willa managed a brief nod, knowing if she tried to speak she’d reveal how nervous he made her. His distracting presence in the training room dimmed next to dealing with him in the suddenly close confines of her office. Too late she realized her expression had given her away.

  Nick watched as she pieced her control together. For an instant the cool composure she’d maintained in the training room with such ease vanished. Underneath he found traces of fear and vulnerability. If he wasn’t mistaken, he also saw a flash of awareness that had him reconsidering his original plan to charm and disarm. Had she just remembered who he was? Renewed anger shot through him. Was ruining a man’s career so insignificant that she could have forgotten?

  Willa watched the quick play of emotions cross his face. Close up, the charming smile seemed strained and she could almost feel his frustration. Deciding she’d waited long enough, she said, “It’s late and I’d really like to get home. If you’ve come to apologize, please don’t. Believe me, I’ve dealt with your type before.” That was a lie; she’d never dealt with anyone like Nick Logan.

  “Please, call me Nick. And what exactly is my type?”

  Willa refused to answer or let herself be drawn in by the sexy flash of white teeth. Obviously Mr. Logan could change moods like a chameleon changed colors when it suited his purpose. And she was painfully aware of his purpose. “Listen, I know you’re a friend of Sky’s, and that you probably joke with him like that all the time, but I don’t happen to find such remarks very funny. Please don’t insult me further with insincere apologies.”

  “Who said I came here to apologize?” he drawled, letting his gaze break away from her widening green eyes to travel slowly downward, lingering on her slightly parted lips. “Actually, I wanted to talk business,” he went on, his tone more serious, but the knowing grin still playing at the corners of his mouth. “Sky tells me you’re one of the best sports therapists around, and as you can see”—Nick used his cane to point to his knee—“I definitely need you.”

  Willa stiffened at his softly spoken request. There was no denying he’d intended his blunt proposal to sound seductive. Or did she just want it to be? She risked a glance at his face. The sexy smile hadn’t warmed his blue eyes, or softened the tiny strain lines etched at the corners.

  No, she had no desire to get tangled up with Nick Logan. Being used once was one time too many. She’d help him clear his name, if only to clear hers as well, but she would do it on her own terms.

  Breaking eye contact, she flipped open her schedule book. “I’m afraid I won’t be available, as I’m starting a new program here on Monday. But we have many other competent therapists and trainers. Richard could—”

  “I don’t want Richard. I want you.”

  Willa’s heart jumped in her throat. He’d risen and was leaning over the desk.

  The combination of his nearness and the husky way he’d said I want you proved he intended to fight dirty. Before she could think of how to put the distance back between them, he reached over and placed a blunt fingertip on the schedule. He traced over the column with her name at the top until he found a white space. Shifting his weight onto her desk, he craned his neck to read the tiny print in the margin.

  “Monday morning, eleven o’clock. Sounds good to me.”

  Refusing to look up, she tightened her grasp on the pencil, hoping it would snap before her temper did. “Mr. Logan,” she began, her voice tight. The rest of the sentence died when he pried the pencil from her fingers and filled in his name, a series of dark slashes against the white page.

  “Just Nick,” he said, repeating the name he’d written. “I’m sure you’ll remember who I am.”

  Nick laid the pencil down and eased his weight off of the desk, uncomfortably aware, and not a little annoyed, that the light fragrance she wore had tempted him to lean even closer. Maybe she was bett
er at this game than he’d given her credit for. He quickly reined in his wayward thoughts, amazed that she’d managed to get to him like this. It made him wonder how she’d let Miller slip away. He turned away from unsettling thoughts of her in Eric’s arms. So she was gorgeous and smelled good. Just made his goal that much less distasteful to achieve.

  Yet somehow her warm-as-wine voice and that vulnerable look he’d witnessed as he’d barged into her office kept twining together in his mind. He couldn’t help thinking that if anything was distasteful, it was what he planned to do to her.

  “I’m really sorry, but I have to schedule you with someone else.”

  “Why, Willa? I’m only asking you to help me set up a program. I’ve rehabilitated from knee surgery before, so it’ll only take one or two sessions for a start. Surely you can fit me in.” Her confident gaze faltered a little and he pressed his small advantage. “Sky wouldn’t have recommended you if he thought someone else could do better.”

  Willa wanted to tell him she knew exactly why he wouldn’t settle for anyone but her. She’d never been good at lies or half-truths, and the way Nick threw her off balance with a mere glance and a smile told her she’d never be able to keep up the pretense if she was forced to work so closely with him.

  The phone rang and she grabbed it, glad for the temporary reprieve. “Millennium Sports Club. Ms. Trask.”

  Nick used the interruption to ease himself back into the chair. The sudden edge in her tone caught his attention and he looked up just in time to see her entire body go rigid. He felt his muscles tighten as the lovely flush drained from her face, leaving her skin almost white.

  “What do you want?” Willa struggled to sound calm. Eric Miller had a voice that could charm the skin off a snake—or the clothes off a woman. She took some pride in the fact that his velvety tone now made her stomach knot. “What do you want?” she repeated.

  She could picture Eric’s perfect wounded pout as he answered. “I thought since I’d be seeing you again when I come in on Monday, it would be nice if we could act like adults. I’d like to take you to dinner, give us a chance to talk things over before I show up at the club. I’ve really changed, Willa, and I guess I wanted to spare you any embarrassment. You know how people love to gossip.”

  It was just like Eric to assume that she’d been unable to keep her private life a secret. Act like adults? It was also just like him to try to make her feel like an immature child by not agreeing to see him again. After all, her immaturity and lack of womanly wiles had been his excuse for cheating on her when she’d found him with another woman. And she’d believed him.

  “Willa? Did you hear me?”

  Her hand trembled slightly and she clutched the phone even tighter as anger conquered her shame. She had a sudden idea. She glanced quickly at Nick, trying to remember if she’d referred to Eric by name. No, she hadn’t. “Yes, I heard you. You’re right,” she said, avoiding the concerned look on Nick’s face. “Maybe we should talk.” She quickly agreed to meet him for dinner after work the next evening and said a fast good-bye before she lost her nerve.

  As she looked back at Nick, her doubts increased. His gaze was too perceptive and she escaped it by turning her attention back to her schedule. Then she realized that if her plan worked, it solved the problem of having to deal with Nick as a client. Hoping she was doing the right thing, she picked up the pencil and made a few marks in her column before looking at him.

  “I’m sorry we were interrupted,” she stated, pleased at her calm, businesslike tone. “Monday at eleven will be fine, Mr. Logan.”

  TWO

  It had been a long day after a sleepless night spent going over every aspect of her involvement with Eric. Willa had tried to convince herself that her judgment had been clouded by the stress of the heavy class load she’d undertaken in her push to get her second degree. She hadn’t been very successful. And then there were Nick’s suspicions that Doc had had something to do with switching drug-test results. The very idea was ludicrous. Not only had Doc helped her father through his long, arduous battle against cancer, but he’d gone out of his way to help her deal with the death of her father. She considered him family. No. No way would Doc compromise their relationship by knowingly allowing Eric to use her as a go-between.

  Willa stood up and stretched, only to lean forward and hold on to her desk as a wave of dizziness washed over her. When her head had cleared she glanced at her watch. Six-thirty. The day she thought would drag on forever had, in fact, zoomed by. She’d been so busy that she’d forgotten to have lunch. She knew she was asking for trouble skipping meals, but it was too late now. Soon she’d be meeting Eric for dinner. Still, she needed something. Hot tea, perhaps. With a healthy drop of honey.

  As she left her office her thoughts were on her meeting with Eric. She refused to think of it as a date. She’d have to be very careful how she went about questioning him. Eric had been a two-timing, egotistical jerk, but to do what he’d been accused of, he’d also have to be ruthless … and cunning.

  Willa’s pace quickened as she headed up the curved staircase toward the reception area behind which was a small kitchen where the staff made tea and coffee. She turned at the top of the stairs and ran smack dab into six feet four inches of very determined male.

  “Nick! What are you doing here? Are you meeting Sky?”

  Nick took a brief second to enjoy her flustered response to his surprise visit. He told himself the warm feeling coursing through him was because his idea to catch her off guard had paid off better than he expected—not because he liked the sound of her smoky voice saying his name. “Actually I’m here for my first session.…” He purposely trailed off and shifted his gaze to the young woman behind the front desk.

  Kelly, the receptionist, directed a nervous smile at Willa. “I’m sorry, Willa. I tried to tell you when you buzzed that your seven o’clock canceled. Uh, Mr. Logan asked to be notified if an opening came up before Monday. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

  Kelly darted a quick look at Nick, and he felt his muscles tighten at her expression. She’d probably recognized him from all the media coverage after his arrest, and it was obvious she was uncomfortable. Nick tried to ignore the pain and the helpless anger that coursed through him, knowing he had no other choice. But he hated those looks. Part discomfort—as if he were some sort of dangerous criminal—part pity and disgust that such a promising athlete hadn’t been strong enough to resist temptation.

  He turned to Willa and forced a smile. “Yes, I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not,” Willa answered quickly, wanting to ease the sudden tension in the room. She hadn’t missed the tightening of Nick’s jaw, making his smile more forced than natural, and wondered at the cause. Her stomach tightened again in a combination of hunger and stress, bringing her attention back to her reason for coming up in the first place. “But you are a bit early, and I have a few things to do before our session.” She took several steps toward the archway leading to the kitchen. Motioning to the receptionist, she said, “I’m certain Kelly can start you on filling out the forms. I’ll meet you in the training room in”—she glanced at her watch and grimaced—“fifteen minutes?”

  “Sure. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” Nick’s smile broadened into a grin as she hurried from the room. Ms. Trask was obviously distracted about something, and it wasn’t a last-minute change in her schedule. Funny. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear her flustered response had as much to do with the way the atmosphere sizzled between them as any feelings of guilt she might be harboring.

  He turned and caught Kelly’s thoughtful expression and realized she hadn’t missed the underlying tension between him and her boss. But he was surprised, and relieved, when she offered him a bright smile as she handed him the forms and a clipboard.

  Willa ignored her stomach’s rumble of protest as she went into the training room.

  The room was almost deserted, not unusual around the dinner hour. She didn’t
see Nick. She scanned it again, but knew he wasn’t among the men there. Even though he was wearing old white sweats and a light blue T-shirt, he’d still stand out in a group. She blew out a soft sigh of relief and sat down on one of the weight benches to begin filling out a training chart for him.

  “Hi, sorry I’m a bit late. Those circular stairs are a bit tricky with the cane.”

  Willa jumped at the sound of his deep voice. The music piped into the room wasn’t loud and there were no weights clanging around at the moment. So how did such a big guy—using a cane, no less—manage to move so quietly? “Have a seat.” She gestured to the bench across from her.

  She turned her attention back to the chart even though there wasn’t much to fill in until she read his forms. But she was determined to stay cool and professional. Out of the corner of her eye she caught his quadriceps flexing as he sat down on the bench across from her. She quickly discovered several more lines that needed filling in.

  “Do I make you nervous?”

  Willa fought the flush rising to her cheeks. Here it comes, she thought, he’s getting ready to let me have it. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him everything, but his amused tone annoyed her. Besides, she reminded herself, the only thing she was really guilty of was being foolish enough to believe Eric had told the truth when he claimed to love her. “I just don’t like people sneaking up on me, that’s all,” she explained. Looking directly at him, she reached for the forms he’d filled out, relieved that her hand was steady. The clipboard rested on his knee, but he made no move to hand it to her. Piqued by his attitude, she forced herself to maintain eye contact and refrained from snatching it off his knee.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’d forgotten how much you dislike being … distracted.” The amused gleam in his eyes flashed brighter at the last word. He lifted the clipboard toward her, but she didn’t take it, her eyes still on his. “Ms. Trask?” he prompted. “Willa?”