Hot Number

CHAPTER TWELVE

TWO DAYS AFTER HER UNCLE'S ACCIDENT, Micki was still annoyed with fate. Just when she'd decided to make use of the makeover changes she'd done inside and out and enjoy one more night with Damian, fate had held her to her original promise to keep her hands off.

Uncle Yank had broken his hip and needed immediate surgery to repair the damage done in the fall. Between recuperation and physical therapy, he was looking at a long haul. She spent the night of her uncle's party at the hospital. Since they'd sedated him for the pain, he hadn't been able to have a coherent conversation with Lola, so that relationship was still on hold.

Meanwhile Micki and Sophie were taking rams dog-sitting Noodle the Labradoodle who refused to eat, sleep or drink alone. Uncle Yank had spoiled the pooch rotten and if they didn't keep up his bad habits, the dog cried day and night. The neighbors had left notes of complaint on both Sophie's and Micki's doors, forcing them to take Noodle to work along with them. They'd also been alternating Visiting hours at the hospital in order to take any burden off of Annabelle who'd been ordered by the doctor to take it easy on her feet and on her stress levels.

Though she wished her uncle hadn't hurt himself so badly, Micki didn't mind the added chaos in her own life. With Damian out of town, she was happy to have her mind occupied with other things. When she had time to think, she tortured herself with what might have happened had she not been stuck at the hospital their last night together.

Her body tingled at the thought of making love with Damian once more, of what his hot, hard body felt like pressed against hers as he drove into her again and again and again.

She sighed, then caught herself and realized she was moaning aloud while sitting in her office going over paperwork.

"Nice, Micki," she muttered.

"Woof!" Noodle answered her from her perch on the chair reserved for clients. Apparently Uncle Yank gave Noodle the run of the furniture as well as his life.

"You miss him, don't you, girl?"

The dog let out a whine, laid her head down on the expensive leather and covered her eyes with her paws.

“I’ll take that as a yes " Micki said, laughing.

She checked her watch and realized it was almost time to relieve Sophie at Uncle Yank's bedside. It had been two days since the accident and the doctors wanted him up and out of bed to begin the difficult process of making him mobile in order to prevent pneumonia or infection from setting in. It wouldn't be fair to subject Sophie to that hell all by herself.

Micki grabbed her purse and walked out of her office. "Amy, if anyone needs me I'm at the hospital. I’ll check in when I can, okay?"

"Don't worry about anything on this end. We've all got things covered. You just get your uncle back to his cranky old self."

"Put that way, it shouldn't be all that hard after all." Micki laughed. "Wish me luck," she said and headed for the hospital and the grouch of the century.

Yank lay in his hospital bed and pretended he was sleeping while Lola paced the floor, muttering to herself. Only a blind man couldn't see he had a choice to make, he thought wryly. He just wasn't ready to make it yet.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me Spencer was gay? Why didn't he tell me himself?"

Lola turned around, obviously startled he wasn't sleeping. "Why? Are you interested in him?" she asked.

"Ha-ha."

Lola walked toward the end of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

At the reminder, he winced and pushed the pain medication button on his IV. "Like I broke my hip and had major surgery."

She nodded. "I figured."

"You're avoiding my questions."

She grabbed a chair and pulled it closer to his bedside, then smoothed her skirt and sat down.

Her new position gave him a direct view of the tank top beneath her blazer and her cleavage, which looked damn good for a woman her age.

"I didn't tell you because it wasn't my secret to tell and Spencer didn't tell you because…I don't know why. He kept it quiet because the industry's so male-oriented, he didn't want to make any of his clients uncomfortable."

"That's bullshit," Yank muttered. "Nobody cares about his personal life, only his ability to negotiate the best damn contract he can."

Lola's eyes sparkled with appreciation and he squirmed beneath her gaze. He wasn't used to her looking at him with anything other than frustration and disgust. He'd nearly forgotten what her approval felt like.

It felt good.

"I sent Sophie home for a shower and Micki's coming back in time for the physical therapist to help get you out of bed"

"I can't move."

"You have to move or else you'll end up with twice as many problems. Here." She shoved a contraption the night nurse had brought by. "Breathe into this and make sure you get that pressure thing up to ten. You don't want to get pneumonia on top of everything else."

He scowled. "Damn bossy woman."

"And you love me, Yank Morgan-don't tell me you don't."

"Even if I did, and I ain't admitting nothing yet, don't you think you deserve a helluva lot better than a man who's going blind and now has a busted hip?"

She glared at him, the frustration and annoyance back full force. "Don't you think that's my decision to make? That's been my point all along."

"Are you saying I could tell you I love you just so you could turn around and make the 'decision' to say I'm not what you bargained for anymore?" he asked, outraged by the thought.

Lola treated him to a smile he couldn't figure out. "I'm not saying yes or no. Life's full of risks and it's time you took one." She rose from her seat. "One beyond standing up on a chair and ranting like a fool," she muttered and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" It wasn't easy to admit but he didn't want her to leave.

"I have a lunch date and then I have to get back to work. I promised the girls I'd start going over the files and figure out who can cover your clients while you're laid up. The merger's got to be on the fast track now."

He'd had a hard enough time swallowing his pride and agreeing to join his firm with Atkins but he couldn't let the agency flounder and the girls' PR business suffer. What with me young agents nipping at his heels, it was a smart business move. That didn't mean he had to like it

"Okay. Make sure Irwin draws up the paperwork. I want my lawyer doing the drafting," he said to Lola.

“Then I suggest you talk to one of the girls and have them arrange it. I don't work for you anymore, remember? And I didn't hear I love you, Lola, or I'm sorry, Lola, come out of your mouth, so I don't really feel compelled to help you out." She reached for her purse, which had been lying on the moveable tray. "Besides, I'm still working for Spence and until the merger's complete, that would be a conflict of interest".

Yank punched his covers with his hand. "Of all the-"

"Good morning," Micki said in a too-cheerful voice as she walked into the room.

The little peacemaker had probably heard the arguing from the hall and decided to come fix things.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Lola smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Nothing you need to worry about I was just leaving, so he's all yours."

"Oh joy," Micki said, laughing.

"When are you coming back?" Yank asked Lola.

She turned. Her eyes held a fierce determination he'd seen only once before, when she'd given him her ultimatum and then walked out.

His stomach churned in anticipation.

"I'll be back when you have something to say that I want to hear" She waved goodbye and walked out the door. Out of his room and out of his life.

"Pardon my French but I suggest you shit or get off the pot, Uncle Yank. The woman may have the patience of a saint but even saints have their limits and she's obviously reached hers," Micki said.

He leaned back in his bed, everything in his aging body aching. "I need a nap."

"You need to get out of that bed," the chipper physical therapist they'd met yesterday said as she strode into the room.

And with that, Yank entered a hell that was second only to watching Lola leave him again.

THE RENEGADES SPLIT the two-game series with Los Angeles. Tomorrow was a travel day, which gave the team some freedom tonight although Coach Donovan insisted they remain in the hotel and hit their rooms by midnight. Damian sat at the hotel bar, nursing a beer with his teammates, participating in jokes and wondering how Yank and Micki were holding up.

He didn't plan on calling Micki, thus proving to himself that while he was on the road, only his career mattered. But that hadn't stopped him from tossing and turning in his cold, lonely hotel bed, wondering what she was doing, what she was wearing to bed and most of all whether or not she was missing him.

He rose and walked over to the bar to order a fresh drink.

"Hey." A drunken Carter sauntered up beside him.

Although Damian had watched him down drink after drink tonight, Carter had been unusually quiet and subdued this road trip, making Damian wonder what trouble the rookie had up his sleeve.

"How's it going?" Damian asked.

The other man shrugged. "It's going."

Damian waited for Carter to leave, but he lingered, then grabbed a stool and sat down.

As team captain, Damian had listened to the guys when they'd had problems that might interfere with their game and he'd given advice based on his years in the league, but in the short time Carter had been with the Renegades, he'd never come to Damian for a damn thing. As far as Damian could tell, Carter needed no one except his ego.

As Micki had once said, he was young. He'd learn.

The way the kid lingered now, apparently he wanted something.

"Two Guinnesses," Damian said to the bartender, ordering Carter's drink of choice tonight. Damian waited for them to be served and turned to the rookie. "Okay, what gives?"

The younger man tipped his head to one side, then raised his glass. "To peace."

His words took Damian off guard. "As I recall, you rejected the same offer a few weeks back "

"A lot's happened in a few weeks. Enough to make me respect my elders."

With Carter's irreverence, the tension eased from Daiman's neck and shoulders. "That's the smart-ass rookie I know."

"Tell me something." Carter wasn't slurring his words but his tone definitely indicated he was drunk and Damian knew me other man wouldn't be talking to him now if he were cold sober.

"What's that?" Damian asked.

"How the hell do you do it?"

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"Always come out on top, smelling like a rose." Carter nudged his elbow against Damian's. "Come on, share your secrets."

Damian glanced at the other man's glassy eyes and rolled his own. "You really are trashed. How the hell can you think I come out smelling like a rose when my life's for shit right now?"

Carter glanced away. "Well yeah, but you'll come out of it. You always do."

Damian groaned. "If anything it comes down to how you live your life. I may be a selfish SOB at times but I never deliberately intend to screw with anyone else. Maybe it's good karma. Then again, good karma wouldn't have me with a pregnant ex-lover.”

Carter shook his head. "I hear you, man. I haven't exactly been living my life in a way that has much to do with goodwill towards men, if you know what I mean." He took a long pull of his beer.

"You've been a prick," Damian agreed.

"Yeah. And it isn't working for me too well. I'm thinking I've got to figure out your angle, since you seem to be doing something right" He slung an arm over Damian's shoulder in a brotherly gesture Damian didn't trust for a minute.

Damian wrapped his hands around the beer glass. "So what's with the change in attitude? Coach giving you shit?"

Carter raised his head, meeting Damian's gaze. "I'm giving me shit. Actually, a woman's giving me shit. Do you know what it's like to fall for someone who won't give you the time of day?" He let out a sarcastic laugh. "No of course you don't. All woman fall at your feet."

"Tell me something, Carter, because this jealousy of yours is getting old. Would you really want to be in my shoes? Thirty-five, one year left on your contract and a pregnant woman claiming you're having a kid you never wanted or planned?"

The rookie burst out laughing, taking Damian by surprise.

"What the hell's so funny?"

Carter rested an arm on the bar and leaned toward Damian. "Well here's the thing. My woman is your woman and as long as you're in the picture, she won't have anything to do with me. Won't return my calls. So would I want to be in your shoes? Hell yeah." With that astonishing proclamation, he downed the rest of his beer and gestured for yet another.

"I think you've had enough. We're playing tomorrow" Damian reminded him. He sifted through Carter's words in his mind. "My woman's your woman? Micki Jordan?" Even as Damian said her name, he knew that the notion was an impossible one.

Carter's belly laugh caused more than one person at the bar to turn and glance their way. "Don't you see the irony? You don't even want Carole and she's slobbering for whatever you'll give her. I'm willing to take full responsibility for the kid and she's discounted me like I’m dirt."

Nothing the guy said made sense but if Damian had to guess, he figured Carole and Carter had slept together and Carter had fallen hard. Problem was, Damian had hooked them up just a few weeks ago so unfortunately there was no reason for Carter to "take responsibility." "Listen, buddy. You sober up and we'll talk more tomorrow."

"You're dismissing me the same way she did."

Damian rose to his feet. "Do I need to remind you about the facts of life? Even if you slept with Carole, she says she's almost three months pregnant. That makes you an impossible candidate."

"Not if I slept with her for the first time back in April, which I did. To get back at you. I just didn't expect to develop feelings for the woman."

Hot damn, Damian thought, he'd been right all along. Carole had been sleeping around while they were together. He hadn't figured Carter in her travels, but what the hell. Anyone she'd been with gave him that much more hope that he wouldn't be tied to her for eternity.

"So when I handed her over to you?" Damian asked.

"We had a good laugh," Carter admitted. "Oh and while we're spilling our guts?"

Carter was spilling, Damian was listening, but he wasn't about to remind him and ruin the momentum. He wondered what else the rookie was about to confess.

"Yeah?"

He shook his head and actually looked sheepish for a brief moment. "I'm the one who led the photographers to Lacie's. I hoped you'd get caught with your pants down and get some negative press for a change."

The confirmation of something Damian had suspected all along should have infuriated him but, coupled with Carter's admission about Carole, Damian found himself in a forgiving mood.

"And instead they decided I'd rescued Micki and I was a hero. Must've pissed you off?

Carter nodded. "Enough that when you didn't show up for practice and Sophie Jordan Said you were doing rehab work at your island home, I called the airport and had them hijack your bags." Again, the other man glanced away, obviously unable to look his captain in the eye.

"What else?" Damian asked in a lethally low tone, his forgiveness now coming in short supply.

Carter rose to his feet and stumbled unsteadily. "Promise you won't hit me."

This had to be bad, Damian thought and winced before even hearing the news. "Just spit it out"

"I was the one who leaked the pregnancy news to the press and before you say I'm an ass, I'll do it for you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt Carole. I was just looking to get back at you." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Which doesn't make it any better, I know. But losing Carole taught me a lesson and I'm damn sorry." He hung his head.

Damian didn't know how much was drunken rambling, how much was truth, but at least Carter had developed a conscience. Enough to confess his sins, and those confessions had Damian wondering. And gave him legitimate reason to demand a paternity test from Carole without feeling guilty.

"Let's go get you sobered up," Damian said, not bothering to address anything Carter had admitted.

"You aren't going to kill me?"

Damian glanced at Carter's pale face. "Nah. I think I'll spare you. But if this repentant stuff is all an act and you pull a stunt like that again? I'll be using your balls for batting practice."

Carter grinned, a drunken grin. "Fair enough."

"Carole know about any of this?" Damian asked.

Carter shook his head. "But I'm going to tell her because, starting tomorrow, I'm turning over a new, responsible leaf. She's gonna see I want to be in her life even if the kid turns out to be yours."

Damian shook his head and prodded the drunken man toward the bank of elevators in the hall, all the while wondering if fate would be kind to Damian Fuller, the man who'd been given everything.

And hand him this one thing more.

MICKI OPENED A BAG of Tostitos she'd bought in the hospital cafeteria. She popped open a can of Diet Coke for herself and put Uncle Yank's can on his bedside tray for him to enjoy later. While he dozed, she curled up on the chair in his private room and settled in to watch TV. Despite her best intentions, the channel landed on WPIX and the Renegades came into view on the small screen.

The Renegades were in the field, down by two runs in the seventh, no outs, bases loaded. She watched a ball fly toward center field. She raised the volume.

"…And Fuller goes back, back to the far wall. He's there. He jumps. His hand hits the wall as the ball lands in his glove but he manages to hold on to it! Fuller prevents a grand slam but can he keep the number of runs down to a manageable level?"

Holding her breath, Micki leaned forward in her seat.

"Rodriguez scores on the sacrifice fly! Fuller throws to third and Baressi holds up at second base. Damian Fuller keeps the damage to one run."

Micki let out a long stream of air. "That was close."

"He's got some mileage left in him yet," Uncle Yank said from his bed.

She turned. "You're up!" she said, surprised.

"What do you expect when you blast the television like that?"

"How are you feeling?"

"It hurts."

She knew what the admission cost him. "Sophie's been making phone calls. We're getting you the best physical therapist there is. You'll be up and about in no time," she promised her uncle.

He nodded. "You're good girls. I don't tell you that often enough."

Micki smiled. "Yes you do." She rose, walked to the bed and leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek.

"Oh shit. Make it louder," her uncle said, suddenly agitated and pointing wildly toward the TV.

Micki turned and grabbed the remote, which was wired to his bed. She raised the sound but she'd already caught sight of Damian in the outfield, surrounded by his coach and trainers.

"…And Fuller is helped off the field. We don't know the full extent of the injury or if it's related to his last stint on the DL but as soon as anything comes our way, we'll report it back to you."

Micki hit the mute button once more. She met her uncle's worried gaze with one of her own. Her stomach plummeted because she knew, whether or not this injury kept him out of the game, Damian was going to take it as yet another sign that the career he loved was coming to an end.

“This can't be good," she said aloud.

Her uncle shook his head. "But you can't fight age forever," he said, thoughtfully.

Micki wondered if he was referring to Damian or to himself.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DAMIAN'S SEVEN-DAY ROAD TRIP was cut short by a plane ride home to see Dr. Maddux and undergo a full battery of tests on his wrist, including X rays and an electromyogram that recorded the electrical activity of the nerve and muscle cells in his wrist. Maddux said he'd call him with the results, but it didn't take a damn machine to tell Damian that there was pressure on the nerve and swelling there, too.

Based on the tingling numbness and almost complete lack of feeling in his thumb, Damian figured it didn't matter much what the diagnosis was, his season just might be finished.

Not to mention what was left of his career.

He poured himself a second shot of whiskey and sat down in his favorite leather chair in his den. He left the plasma screen black, not wanting to flip channels and see what was happening in a world that for him was falling apart. How much more crap would be clumped on his head before it was all over? Damian wondered, feeling sorry for himself and not giving a good goddamn.

The doorbell rang and he ignored it. He wasn't in the mood for company, especially his sisters, the only people besides his parents that Rafael, the doorman, would allow up without calling first

The buzzer sounded a second time and then a third. Obviously Rafael had told them he was home. With a curse, Damian rose and headed for the door, intending to kiss whichever well-meaning sibling was behind it hello and then goodbye.

"Don't you realize when someone doesn't answer the door he doesn't want to be bothered?" he asked at the same time he pulled it open wide.

"Hello, Oscar," Micki said with a big smile.

He scratched his head, his slightly inebriated brain not comprehending her reference.

"Oscar the Grouch. Now let me in so we can talk " Without waiting for permission, she ducked under his arm and strode inside. “

He slammed the door shut behind himself. Micki was the one person he wanted to see and the person he'd been avoiding. He figured he'd dumped enough of his problems on her without adding his injury to the list.

He followed behind her, taking in the sweet curve of her rear end encased in tight denim and the hint of skin at her waist peeking out below the cropped top. Her hips swayed as she walked and his groin grew thick and hard with wanting her. At least some part of his broken-down body still worked.

"So how'd you get Rafael to let you in?*' He slammed the door shut behind him.

She shrugged. "I was just honest. I told him you'd been through a lot and you needed a friend. He looked me in the eye and buzzed me right in. I think if I'd said I'd come to seduce you he'd have tossed me out on my rear end."

Damian laughed despite himself. "He's definitely done that before for me. He's a bouncer in his spare time"

"You need security to keep the women away, huh?"

He could tell she was deliberately keeping the conversation light for his sake and decided the hell with it. He wasn't in a light mood and she might as well know it going in.

"Right now I want everyone to stay away." He caught himself immediately. "Except you." He hadn't wanted company but with Micki he didn't feel the need to entertain her or make small talk.

She'd never been to his apartment, yet she made herself at home, heading straight for the den and his oversize club chair. Since she'd taken his seat, Damian eased-himself beside her on the arm of the chair.

"So how bad is it?" she asked, reaching for his good hand, the one not in a brace.

"Can't feel my thumb and the rest of me hand tingles like it's asleep."

"What do the doctors say?"

He shrugged. "They're being deliberately vague till the tests are read. They're still mentioning carpal tunnel and a pinched nerve but nobody's willing to commit to anything."

Micki swallowed hard. She'd come here because he'd ignored her calls on both his cell and his home number, and she'd realized he was probably holed up here throwing a pity party for himself. She glanced at the half-full glass of whiskey and frowned. She hated that she'd been right.

Damian was the least self-pitying man she knew but the potential for bad news was strong and he'd spent who knows how long denying the inevitable.

"Don't take this the wrong way and jump all over me, okay?" she asked.

He tipped his head towards her. "I promise not to take it the wrong way. As for jumping you-"

She laughed. "Those weren't my exact words."

"They work well enough for me," he said in a husky tone she couldn't mistake.

A tremor of awareness shot through her but she forced herself to keep her focus. He might not realize it, but he needed sound advice and she was here to give it to him. "Didn't you realize something like this would happen eventually?"

"Ever hear of denial?"

She thought of her Uncle Yank. "I'm vaguely familiar with the term. Look, you're thirty-five and have a multimillion-dollar contract. You've been selected for ten consecutive Ail-Star appearances, you've won an All-Star MVP award, five Silver Slugger Awards and ten consecutive Golden Gloves and that's not the half of your accomplishments. That's a lot to be proud of no matter when you have to step down." She glanced up and noticed the satisfied expression that curved his mouth into a sexy grin.

"Has someone been reading up on me?" he asked.

She nudged him in the side with her elbow. "Don't be so arrogant. I just happen to know these things."

He burst out laughing.

She ignored the burn in her cheeks. "My point is-"

"I get your point, Micki. I just can't accept it."

“Well maybe it's time you do." She let out an exasperated groan. "Maybe it's time that spoiled little boy who thinks everything comes so easily acknowledges that his time in the field and at the plate has passed. That doesn't mean the future doesn't hold great things."

She slid forward and rose from her seat, certain he needed time and space to absorb her words.

"Wait." His hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"I think I've given you enough to think about. I should go."

His hand curled tighter around her, his fingertips branding her with their heat. "What if I don't want you to leave?"

Micki's heart skipped a beat, maybe more, before it kicked in once more. "You aren't upset about what I said?"

He let out a harsh laugh. "Sure I am. That doesn't mean I'm upset with you."

She turned to face him. "Nice distinction. Another way of not dealing with your feelings?" she asked lightly, though how she could speak with both his large, warm hand and his chocolate gaze on her was beyond her.

Her mouth had grown dry and not because of the sexual tension, though it was strong. Something had changed between them.

For the first time since they'd returned from the island, for the first time since the paternity scandal, Micki truly felt as if they were back in their easy, comfortable state.

And because of that connection, the teasing took on more sensual, provocative undertones. Desire raced through her at the thought.

He raised his hand and cupped her cheek. "Know what I like about you?"

''What's that?" she asked, trembling as she spoke.

His thumb caressed her face. "You don't pull any punches. You tell it like it is. And you aren't afraid to go head-to-head with me."

"I learned from the best." Once again she thought of her uncle.

"Well you should know something. Your guts and your spirit? They turn me on."

His voice was gruff and, combined with his purely masculine heat, it turned her on. Still, before she'd consider sleeping with him, she had to make some things clear.

"Damian?"

“Hmm?" His gaze bored into hers.

She gathered her courage because what she was about to say was the last thing she wanted, but she had ho choice. “This can't be more than a one-time thing."

One more time together before the paternity results came in. Micki knew that once they determined whether or not he was the father, she'd lose him one way or another. To his new life with a baby or to his old life that he couldn't seem to let go of.

He stared into her eyes, his hand caressing her face, remaining eerily silent as he pondered her words. She trembled with passion and desire, ready to jump him at a moment's notice. But Micki needed confirmation that they agreed on the ground rules.

She swallowed hard. "Do you understand?"

A muscle ticked in his cheek. "I ought to. They're my damn rules."

It had been a while since she had had the freedom to act on her feelings and she did so now. Slowly she reached out and smoothed her fingers over the lines of tension on his face, trying not to let her emotions show. "And? Do you want to go along?"

"I want," he said in a deep voice. "I want you badly."

His words freed her from worry or from thinking about anything except tonight. A seductive smile curved her lips.

He slid his hand from her cheek to her shoulders, his fingertips dipping below her neckline. His touch was hot on her skin, his intent to tease and arouse obvious- and effective.

She trembled, her nipples puckering into hard knots beneath her lightweight T-shirt as she reached for the opening on his collared polo shirt.

He stopped her, grabbing her wrist with his good hand. "I think I can maneuver things better in the bedroom."

"Tonight you don't have to worry about maneuvering or using that wrist at all," she promised him. "Tonight it's all about you."

Damian appreciated the sentiment but he wanted to make love to Micki hard and fast, to block out everything around him, but her.

"Show me the bedroom," she said, her voice low and husky.

Apparently she was calling the shots tonight. Fine by him. He didn't want to think, not even about her words. She hadn't sugarcoated her feelings and because he trusted her judgment, he'd think about what she said-but he'd do it tomorrow. As she'd pointed out, they had another agenda for the rest of the night.

Her hand in his, he led her down the hallway ending at his large master suite. She stepped ahead of him toward the bed, a place he'd only slept alone. Despite all the women who'd passed through his life, he'd protected and held onto his privacy both on the island and here at his apartment. Though Micki had shown up uninvited, he had no second thoughts about sharing his personal space. She'd already become intimately involved in his life and having her here felt right.

The bedroom lights were on dimmers and he lowered them enough to set the mood. He joined her by the bed, where she'd already begun to strip off her clothes. He had every intention of following her lead.

He reached for the snap on his jeans just as Micki came beside him wearing a nude-colored bra that revealed soft mounds of flesh and delectable cleavage, along with her darkened nipples pressing enticingly into the see-through lace. His gaze fell lower, to her flat stomach and matching panties, also nude, that teased him with a glimpse of triangular shadow.

"You're fast," he said, approvingly.

"Aah, but I intend to go slow." A provocative smile lifted her lips.

She pulled his shirt from his waistband, then slipped the garment up and off easily. Instead of turning to his jeans next, she dipped her head and placed her lips against his abdomen. With excruciating patience, she teased him, running her mouth over his bare chest, leaving a moist trail in her wake. Cool air rushed over his dampened skin and he shivered.

"You like this?" Micki asked, at the same time she splayed her hands over his chest, her fingertips grazing his nipples, turning them into hardened peaks.

He let out a rough growl as desire shot through him, the ache traveling straight to his groin. If she wasn't going to move things along, then he intended to. He needed her too badly.

He unzipped his jeans and quickly shoved them aside.

"Commando," she murmured. "Now that I like." With both hands, she eased him onto the bed and once he was on his back in the center, she straddled his waist.

He slid his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her close for a hot kiss, holding nothing back. He thrust his tongue into her open mouth, delving into the deepest recesses and finding so much more than an answer to his sexual need. Kissing her soothed his pain and eased the ache in his soul.

She squirmed on top of him, her body grinding against his, as desperate as he was to get closer despite the silky barrier that still separated them. He hooked his one thumb into the thin band and slid her underwear down her soft thighs.

"Please tell me you have protection," she murmured.

He nodded. "Not because I bring women here, but yeah, I do." She exhaled a sigh of relief and he laughed. "It's good to know the warning's mutual," he said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She grinned. "Very mutual."

He retrieved the foil packet from his nightstand and handed it over to her. "The hand's not working well enough for me to do it myself." He eyed her warily as he pushed himself against the pillows and waited for her to take over.

She ripped the foil, an expression of concentration on her face. She held up the condom to the light, eyeing it this way and that "Is there a trick to this?"

"You'll figure it out" He clenched his jaw, his throbbing arousal making it difficult to focus.

His groin jutted upward and she began to roll the thin sheath over him, her fingers brushing his penis. Her lack of skill and yet complete determination was endearing and arousing at the same time.

Once protected, she straddled him, poised directly over where he needed her most. Not about to be completely passive, he reached out and tested her wetness, slipping his finger between her damp folds.

"Oh wow." She shuddered and clenched her legs around his hand.

Damian grinned. "At least I haven't lost my touch.”

"Nobody will ever accuse you of that," she said and began an easy slide down his shaft.

She was hot and tight, and fit like a glove. He let out a prolonged groan, his body shuddering from the need to thrust. But he wouldn't, not until she'd begun her ascent and he knew he could take her along with him.

Damian already felt the urge to come but he wasn't about to do it alone. He thrust upward, making sure she felt the full force of their connection. A connection he welcomed as much as he fought to control.

She grabbed his hand and began a steady rocking motion, grinding herself against him each time she encased him completely in her luscious body. He shifted, adjusting his weight and thrusting upward, over and over again.

They reached a mutual rhythm, one that came so naturally it would have been frightening if he'd had the time to think. He didn't. He could only focus on sensation. On feeling.

She was equally lost, her breath coming faster and fester and faster. Soft cries escaped from the back of her throat and her nails dug into his shoulders as she rode him harder, her body pulling him along for the ride.

Finally her body squeezed even tighter around his. The closer he came to release, the thicker and harder he grew. His muscles tightened and he lost himself inside her.

In more ways than one.

MICKI SCOURED THE CABINETS in Damian's kitchen but there wasn't much to eat or even use to create a meal. Instead she pulled out the box of cocoa mix and used the microwave to make hot chocolate. Just as she finished the preparations, Damian strode into the room, wearing a pair of gray sweats and nothing more.

The man took her breath away. Her emotions were mixed, a bittersweet feeling washing over her because her one night had passed. No matter how spectacular it had been, it was over.

But not until she walked out of this apartment. Placing the two mugs on the table, she joined him. "You're quiet this morning," she said, wondering what he had on his mind.

He glanced into his cup. "Did I tell you that Carter and I had a man-to-man talk while I was on the road?" She shook her head. "You didn't mention it." "I guess I had other things on my mind." "So what'd the swine have to say?" She leaned forward on her hand.

"He took a stab at being human."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? What's he really want?"

"My thoughts exactly but I don't think you're going to believe the answer." A smile curved his mouth and she was tempted to taste the hot chocolate right off his lips. "He wants Carole."

Micki choked on her drink.

"There's more. Apparently their relationship began way before I ever handed Carole over to him. They hooked up back in April."

Micki opened and closed her mouth. "Are you saying the baby could be his?"

"Could be. He's had it in for me for a long time. He's been after my job, my woman-he told me himself." Damian shook his head. "He was the one who called the press that night at Lacie's and the one who sidetracked our luggage. And, he was also the guy who revealed the paternity scandal to the papers."

"Quite a stand-up guy," Micki muttered, never forgetting for a minute that he'd deliberately gotten her drunk that night, which had led to her public humiliation.

Damian rocked back in his chair. "I wanted to throttle him but then I realized thanks to his being a slime-ball, he may have taken the load off my shoulders. And the kicker is? He wants to. Even if the baby's mine, he wants to marry Carole."

Micki gnawed on her lower lip. "This is so bizarre I don't know whether to cheer or hit him with his own bat”

Damian nodded. "Join the club."

"When do you plan on talking to Carole?" Micki asked

His expression turned thoughtful. "The series of away games are over soon. As soon as Carter's home, I figured we'd do it together. Hard to believe the guy who sabotaged me might be my only chance at freedom."

More than anything, Micki wanted Damian free from Carole and this mess but at the same time, she knew what freedom meant to Damian. No personal responsibilities, no heavy-duty relationships, just a man and his career, she thought.

A man minus Micki.

DAMIAN GLANCED DOWN at his hand. He knew better than to attempt to flex. The pain wasn't worth the effort and immobilization was the best medicine for now. Doctor's orders, Damian thought. The doc had called with his test results soon after Micki had left.

Damian was glad she'd missed the call so he could wallow in his grief in private before sharing the news. Apparently he had nerve damage or at least slight nerve damage. Once this flare-up subsided, he could choose to finish out the season, but if he continued to play, he'd be guaranteeing himself an awful lot of time on the disabled list next year and risking nerve damage that would likely be both major and permanent.

Which meant he had to make a decision. If he were honest with himself, the time had been coming for a while now. He just hadn't wanted to face it. Denial at its best, as he'd told Micki.

Micki. Who else would have the guts to throw his inadequacies in his face and make it seem like she was doing him a favor? He bit back a grin at the feisty way she'd confronted him. At the time, he'd silently applauded her nerve.

Hell, the verbal slap she'd provided had awakened something dead inside him. And that spunk of hers turned him on. When he was with her, not just in her bed but by her side, the bad didn't feel nearly as awful as he knew it should.

Damian wasn't a man who wanted women in his life or interfering in his business. That rule didn't apply to Micki. Ever since that New Year's Eve kiss, something had been building between them. He'd denied it, a tactic he now realized was his specialty when he didn't want to face an issue. And when denial had no longer worked, he'd ignored the attraction as if it would disappear. But their chemistry had been stronger than he knew and by the time he'd taken her to bed, she'd already become a part of him.

The best part, he thought. Even then he must have sensed how much he needed her because he'd blindly shown up on her doorstep after Carole's declaration and he'd wanted her by his side ever since. She-and her family-had given him direction and instructions on steps to take in order to cope with the scandal, and somehow she'd kept him focused when he could have spiraled out of control in a panicked frenzy. She'd refused to let him give in to self-pity over his hand and showed no mercy when it came to making him face the future.

What future? he wondered. With the exception of saving his money for a rainy day, he'd never planned for a day without baseball.

"Maybe it's time you should," he said, mimicking Micki's words.

But first he had to deal with Carole and figure out that part of his life. Between him and Carter, Damian was looking at a fifty-fifty shot the baby was his. Not good odds.

But he believed he could handle the possibility. As Micki had correctly pointed out, he had the best role model to make it happen. If the kid was his, Damian knew he'd be as good a father as his old man had been to him. He knew this thanks to Micki.

Damian rubbed his eyes and walked to the window overlooking the park below. Man, he was tired and not just from making love to Micki late into the night.

He was emotionally drained. For many reasons. Not the least of which was Micki herself. What would her role be in his life once he no longer had the baby scandal as an excuse to keep her by his side.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DAMIAN AND CARTER STRODE UP to Carole's apartment door together. They'd agreed not to tell her they were coming to Florida, afraid she'd have time to regroup. They wanted her moment of realization to be genuine. They wanted to see her reaction to the fact that both men knew the truth. At the very least, their alliance ought to at least frighten her into being honest. There was a damn good chance even she didn't know whose baby it was, but they were going to find out.

"You ready?" Damian asked Carter.

"As I'll ever be." He rolled his shoulders beneath his sport jacket.

The kid had dressed up for the occasion. Damian glanced down at his ripped jeans and good-luck jersey and shrugged. It wasn't like he wanted to make a good impression at the moment. As for Carter, Damian had to admire the kid for going after what he wanted, this time in an honest way.

Poor Carole wouldn't know what hit her when Carter got down on one knee. Damian had no idea how she felt about the rookie and though he shouldn't care after what Carter had put him through, he couldn't help but hope Carole would see some good in Carter and give him a chance, for her sake as well as the baby's. No matter who the biological father turned out to be.

Damian drew a steadying breath and knocked on the door. He heard Carole's muffled voice and then the door swung open wide.

"Damian?" Her gaze shifted to the man beside him. "Carter?" The color drained from her cheeks. "What are you doing here?"

"I take it you mean what are we doing here together?" Damian asked.

She didn't reply, just stood and stared. Obviously she hadn't been expecting company because she wore no makeup, a pair of baggy sweats and an oversize T-shirt that accentuated her breasts, made even larger by the pregnancy.

He didn't think he'd ever seen her looking so…real. For the first time, Damian saw beyond the artificial persona she deliberately put on and caught a glimpse of the woman Carter had fallen in love with. For his sake, Damian hoped Carole's heart was equally real.

"I don't think you want to have this discussion in the hallway," Carter said, stepping forward. He grasped her elbow. "Come on, babe. Let us inside."

She squirmed and waved her hand, gesturing for them to enter.

Damian understood her discomfort. He felt it, too, and he stood by the window while Carter made himself comfortable on the couch.

Beside him, Carole clasped and unclasped her hands. "I can't imagine why you're here together," she said, letting out a nervous laugh.

“Oh I think you can," Damian muttered.

"You were with both of us around the same time," Carter said calmly. He grasped her hand. "Now I don't hold it against you, babe. We just want to know whose baby you're carrying."

She blinked, as if stunned by the statement. "I told you it's Damian's." Her voice rose to a high pitch.

"Yes, you did. Unfortunately those are just words. We need proof."

Damian remained by the window, separated from the couple and distanced emotionally, but his heart pounded a mile a minute and his throat was raw. "We used protection," he reminded her.

"So did we," Carter said.

Damian paced the length of the window, turned and walked back again. "So unless you have a magic way of determining whose kid this is, we need to run a paternity test"

"No!" She shouted the word and both men jerked their heads her way. "It's Damian's," she insisted.

Damian saw the other man's jaw clench and could practically read his mind. Once again Carter was coming in second to the almighty Damian Fuller.

"Why is it so damn important that he be the father?" Carter asked.

Carole wiped a tear from her face and then another.

Sensing she had reasons he didn't need to hear, Damian stepped toward her. "I'm going to leave you two alone to talk. And when we're finished, I would be grateful if you came back to New York with Carter so we can have the test done. If not, we can do it down here, but Carter would miss a game and that's really not fair to him-or to the team. They need him."

Shock registered on Carter's face. Unadulterated awe. "You mean it?"

"Hell, rookie, of course I mean it. In the last week, you've become more than a man I just might be able to admire one day. You're a damn good player." As much as Damian spoke a growing truth, he said the words for Carole's benefit. Because she seemed leery of the notion of having Carter's kid.

She was selling the man short, Damian thought. Not that Carter hadn't done everything to earn the reputation, but he was changing and he deserved the benefit of the doubt.

Carole hadn't met Damian's gaze. "Carole?" he said

She lifted her damp eyes.

"I mean what I said. I want that test done even if I have to get a court order to do it."

She blinked. "Don't do this, Damian."

"It won't be an issue," Carter promised, his hand still covering hers, only now he squeezed it tight.

Damian nodded and headed for the door, trusting Carter to handle Carole. He hoped like hell his gut instinct was right and the kid not only had a good heart, but finally had grown up, too.

Carter waited until Damian walked out before turning to Carole. With no makeup and everyday clothing on, she appeared frail and vulnerable. He'd never seen her look more beautiful. It made him all the more anxious. Because if he didn't get every word right, he'd lose her forever.

"We're alone. So how about you explain to me why it's so important that Fuller be the baby's father?' he asked.

Her hands shook as she reached for the box of tissues on the end table. "You have to understand that I didn't set him up. I didn't want to be pregnant."

Carter nodded. "I understand. So…"

"He's established. He has his career set and he's financially more than able to provide-"

Rick felt as if he'd been sucker punched. "So that's it? He's got money and I don't?"

“My mother never knew who my father was. We never knew where our next meal was coming from. Each guy she met she hoped would be Mr. Right Most of them couldn't put a meal on the table." She shook her head, the tears flowing down her cheeks.

Carter swallowed hard. "I'm not as wealthy as Fuller yet, but I more than get by.”

She raised her moist gaze to his. "What if you get hurt before your first big contract? What if you have a bad season and nobody wants you or arbitration doesn't work out?"

"What if I get hit by a bus crossing the street? Babe, life is a risk. All you can do is live it the best way you know how and be happy doing it."

"When did you become so philosophical?" She sniffed and he pulled a tissue from the box and gently wiped her tears.

"About the time I realized I might lose you." Carter knew he'd come this far, not just in miles but in personal growth. He might as well risk it all. "I love you, babe. Even if the baby is Fuller's, it'll be okay"

Carole stared at Ricky Carter in shocked disbelief. "Love?”

One minute her childhood poverty was rising to suffocate her and the next minute this man was trying to make her fears disappear. But as much as he tried, he couldn't do the one thing she needed and that was guarantee her she wouldn't end up alone and on welfare, reliving her mother's unstable life.

"Yeah. Somehow during all this, I ended up falling in love with you. And let's face it, we are alike enough to make this work."

“Two peas in a pod?"

He nodded, his dimples showing as he smiled. "Listen, babe, we're both driven. We're both not above using other people to get what we want. You knew this baby could be mine and you would have passed it off as Fuller's."

She winced as he laid out her sins. "I never meant to hurt you."

"And I never meant to hurt you when I called the papers and told them Damian was going to be a daddy. I was just so angry he was getting something else I wanted again-"

"You told the papers? Something else you wanted? I don't know which statement makes me angrier. That you'd betray me or-"

"In the heat of the moment," he said, his eyes downcast, his remorse seemingly honest.

"Or that you think I'm a possession to be had by you or Damian!"

He shook his head and laughed, taking her off guard.

"What's so funny?"

"You're doing the same damn thing with that unborn baby. You're using it as a possession to give to Damian or whomever you think is the best daddy at this moment. Like I said, we're alike. Similarly driven. So let's turn all that energy towards one another-and the baby-instead. What do you say?"

Inside, Carole was shaking, her stomach in knots, nausea rising up her throat. "Did you forget that there's a fifty percent chance the baby's Damian's?" she said, admitting a truth she could no longer deny.

"Not at all. But let me lay out a few facts for you."

She drew her tongue over her dry lips.

"First, even if Damian's the father, he has no intention of marrying you."

Her stomach cramped at his words. "You can't know that for sure."

"He told me and if you ask him outright, he'll tell you the same thing. Oh, he'll do right by you and pay you so you and the baby are comfortable, but you are never going to be a family."

She swallowed hard, unable to reply.

"Unlike Fuller, I plan on marrying you whether or not the kid is mine. I plan on supporting you and your baby regardless and I plan on giving you the family you're looking for. Want to know why?"

"Why?" she whispered.

He took her hand again, his touch warm and reassuring. "Because like I said, I love you." He squeezed her fingers. "But you're scared and I don't expect you to be able to deal with all this right now. So let's take it one step at a time "

Carole rose but the blood rushed from her head and she grew so dizzy she had to sit once more.

He pushed her head downward between her legs. "Relax and breathe," Carter instructed her.

She did as she was told and slowly she began to feel better. "I'm okay," she mumbled.

"Sit up nice and slowly."

She lifted her head and met his gaze. "I'm better. Thanks."

"I'll take care of you, babe. I promise. Now how about we take that test?" He reached behind him and pulled an airline ticket out of his pocket. "We can be on the 5:00 p.m. tonight."

She grasped his hand, suddenly seeing him as her only lifeline. It didn't matter that she loved him, too, and always had. Love had never been enough to make any of her mother's men stick around.

Why should she be any luckier?

THANKS TO A BAD HEAD COLD, Micki stayed home from work. When boredom set in and she couldn't stop thinking about Damian's trip to Florida, she began cleaning her apartment, tackling junk drawers, cabinets and closets. With the amount of garbage she'd collected, the dust bunnies did nothing to help her already stuffed nose and itchy throat. She was surrounded by junk and completely miserable when the doorbell rang.

She sniffed, grabbed a tissue and headed for the door. "Who's there?"

"It's Roper."

She let her friend inside. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"And a welcome to you, too. I called the office to see if I could take you for lunch and they said you were out of the office today. I figured you could use some company what with Damian being in Florida and all."

Micki scowled. "You're subtle as ever, John. I'm not home wallowing. I'm sick."

He studied her intently. "Red nose, no makeup…Yep, you're sick." He headed for the kitchen and picked up the phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Ordering you the best chicken soup in Manhattan. Luckily they deliver." He called in the order and, since the thought of hot soup sliding down her raw throat was heavenly, she didn't argue.

They settled into her den. Micki grabbed an afghan blanket and wrapped it around herself to keep warm. "So why are you really here? Is it because you think with Damian off talking to Carole, I'd be a basket case?"

Roper chuckled. "You said it, I didn't. Have you heard from him?”

She shook her head. "And I don't plan to." She glanced down. "It's over" she told her best friend.

"Because?"

"Baby or no baby, Damian lives a lifestyle that has no room for commitment. And I want that." She blew her nose into a tissue. “I want someone who can balance a career and a family"

John leaned forward in his seat. "And you think Damian doesn't want that? With all the changes in his life at the moment, I'd think some stability would be nice right now."

She shook her head. "He's overwhelmed with the paternity thing. If it's his, he's going to have his hands full adding a baby to his list of responsibilities, which he admits he has trouble prioritizing."

"And if it isn't his kid?"

Micki let out a laugh. "Come on. You know him pretty well. He'll be so damn relieved he's off the hook, he's going to return to focusing on what's left of his career. He's certainly not going to do a one-eighty and want a serious commitment when he's just escaped one."

"Says you."

"Says logic, common sense, and I'd bet Damian if you asked him," Micki argued. She'd thought these issues through long and hard. Her conclusions hurt, but they made perfect sense.

"If I asked him he'd say he couldn't have gotten through any of this without your support. The man needed you."

Micki cringed at her friend's words.

"What? What'd I say?" Roper asked, obviously reading her expression.

She stretched her legs out in front of her. Her body ached and she wondered if maybe she had the flu. "You nailed the other thing I've been thinking about. My whole life, I've always been taken care of. First by my parents, then by Annabelle and Uncle Yank. I've always needed other people. For the first time, someone needed me. Once Damian has his answer, once he knows whose baby it is, he's not going to need me anymore."

"All your clients need your expert advice and spin on a situation. You must know it's true, otherwise you wouldn't be as successful as you are." He ran a hand through his neatly combed hair, a sure sign Micki was confusing him.

"It's not the same thing as with the people who hire me." Something special existed between Micki and Damian, something that transcended a client-publicist relationship.

Someone she cared about had relied on her for a change. Losing him saddened her because she'd grown used to the way he'd come to need her and she liked knowing he looked to her as someone important in his life, someone he could trust with his deepest secrets. She'd spent a lot of time lately trying to come to terms with the fact that that part of her life was over.

Roper let out an exasperated sound. "Well if it makes you feel any better, I still need you," he said, treating her to his endearing grin.

The man obviously still didn't get it, which was just as well. She didn't need him psychoanalyzing her at the moment. She sneezed.

"Bless you." Roper stood. "I really should get going before I catch whatever it is you've got. I don't want to miss the autism benefit at the Pierre tomorrow night. Are you going to be up to it?"

She nodded. "After all the work Sophie and I put into it to pull it off, you'd better believe I’ll be there. The Renegades will get some extremely positive press from this."

"And we're playing so well, ticket sales are up anyway. It's all good," Roper said. "But you need to rest up."

"After my soup gets here, I could use a nap," she admitted.

"Feel better," he said as she walked him to the door.

"Thanks."

"And cut Damian some slack. The guy's been through hell but it doesn't mean things are over between the two of you."

Micki ignored him. She'd already said goodbye to Damian in the place it counted most. Her heart.

THE BALLROOM in the Pierre hotel sparkled as much as the celebrities who were attending the benefit in their designer gowns and jewels. Considering the money laid out per plate for this event, everybody had pulled out their finest formal wear. Even Micki had purchased a new gown.

The light pink chiffon complimented her skin tone, or so the lady at Saks Fifth Avenue had told her. Unfortunately, she had no place in the strapless gown to hide tissues and so she'd loaded up on Benadryl in an effort to dry herself out. She couldn't speak without sounding like a frog and her head felt like it was about to explode.

A trip to the doctor this afternoon had resulted in the diagnosis of a sinus infection and so she was on antibiotics as well, but she still wasn't about to miss this big event.

After checking on a few things, Micki headed for the bar and asked for a glass of ice water.

"You'd better make sure no one spikes your drink" a familiar voice said.

Micki drew her shoulders back and turned to face Rick Carter. "Long time no see. I'm sorry I can't say I missed you," she said to the man who'd started her roller-coaster affair with Damian Fuller.

Carter inclined his head. "I'm sorry for changing your drink order that night. I'm sorry for a lot of things," he said.

She narrowed her gaze. "You look like the Carter I know but you don't sound like him." She knew his situation with Carole had to have changed how he viewed life, but considering how he'd treated Micki in the past, she wasn't about to give him the benefit of the doubt so easily.

"I don't blame you for hating me. I just wanted to say I was sorry and maybe one day we can get past it and be friends?"

She nodded warily. "Apology accepted." She'd been taught manners, after all. "As for the future, you'll understand if I reserve judgment"

"Fair enough." He started to walk away and paused. "I really am trying to turn over a new leaf. Even if that paternity test doesn't name me-"

"You took the test already?" Micki asked, stunned.

"We sure did, though it takes two weeks to get the results."

"I see."

She knew Damian had gone to Florida with Carter but she hadn't known the result of their discussion. She certainly had no idea they'd all taken tests. Because she hadn't returned his calls, Micki thought. Instead she'd had her secretary keep her up to date on anything Damian needed professionally, and there'd been nothing. So how could she have known?

"Well good luck. I hope things turn out the way you want them to."

He inclined his head. "Thanks for that"

He walked away, leaving Micki alone with her ice water and stuffy nose. Her head hurt badly. As long as things here were under control, she might as well tell Sophie she was heading home.

Micki looked around for her sister and finally spotted her red dress across the room. She started toward Sophie when a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Going somewhere?" Damian asked.

Micki stepped back and looked into his dark gaze. "I didn't realize you'd be here."

"Why not? All the Renegades were on the invitation list."

She shrugged. "I know. I just thought…you wouldn't be in the mood for a party."

"I'm not. But (a) it's for a good cause, (b) you put the event together and (c) I knew you'd be here. Any one of those reasons works for me."

His grin turned her insides into a mushy mess. "Well thanks for coming but I was just leaving."

His smile quickly faded. "Why the rush? I was hoping to talk to you."

As much as she'd love to spend more time with him, Micki had already decided to protect her heart. "I'm not feeling well. Why don't you call me?"

"Because you don't answer my messages. Come on, one dance. We'll talk and then you can go home and take care of that cold," he said, his voice gruff and just short of pleading.

Before she could reply, he grabbed her hand and led her out to the dance floor. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her toward him, his body flush with hers.

Her back tingled where his palm rested. "You don't want to get too close. You'll catch my cold."

"I'm not worried. So how's your uncle doing?" he asked, his breath warm against her ear. His body moved in a graceful glide around the dance floor, sweeping her along with him.

"He's fine. Driving people in the rehab place nuts but he shouldn't be out of commission too long."

Damian nodded. "That's good. I'll get by to see him this week."

"He'd like that."

"And the merger?" he whispered the private words so no one else could overhear.

She shook her head. "Slow as you'd expect with Spence and Uncle Yank pulling from opposite ends. They'll run up hefty lawyer bills but it'll get done."

He chuckled, the low rumble of laughter in his chest reverberating against her. "And his eyesight?"

"He doesn't complain. He never did. I think he's too busy hiding how he really feels."

Damian raised his hand, still in a brace. "I can definitely relate to his situation," he muttered.

"Any improvement?" she asked, gently touching his hand.

"Not considering how long it's been immobilized. I've had some physical therapy, too. It's August and the play-offs are in sight for September. I just don't know if I'll be playing in them."

He sounded resigned but more accepting than she'd heard him before. She wondered what, if anything, had changed in his mind but decided not to ask. She couldn't keep her distance if she let herself get wrapped up in his emotions.

They continued to move together in rhythm. He intertwined his fingers with hers and pulled her hand tighter against his chest. The gesture felt intimate somehow and, despite herself, Micki trembled.

"We took the paternity tests," Damian said, breaking the silence.

She nodded. "Carter told me."

"I'd have told you myself if you'd returned my calls. Carole is not happy. For some reason I can't fathom, she wants this kid to be mine."

"Good genes?" She strove for a lighthearted laugh.

"All I care about is whether you like what's in my jeans." He treated her to the sexy wink she adored.

"Maybe that's the problem," she murmured. "I like it too much."

His heartbeat slow and steady, both soothing and arousing, reminded her of all she couldn't have. Suddenly she jerked away from his warm body and solid hold, not caring if she drew attention, just needing to escape from all that she could never really have.

"We had our one last time," she said. Then Micki ran for the door before she changed her mind and indulged in another.