wouldn’t sleep worth a damn with Vicki only a wall away, he headed for his home office and picked up the phone.
“Hey, Rafe, it’s Ryan.”
His cousin worked as a private detective in Seattle. Ryan always made sure Rafe had killer tickets when they played in the northwest.
“Need some pointers for the game tomorrow?” his cousin joked.
“Not tonight,” Ryan replied.
Realizing he wasn’t calling to shoot the breeze, Rafe said, “What’s wrong? Is everyone in SF okay? Your mom doing all right?”
“They’re all good. Great, actually. I’m calling for a friend of mine. I need you to dig up the dirt on one of her colleagues.”
“Sure thing. What’s the name?”
Ryan spelled it for him.
“I’ll hand over any info as soon I get it,” Rafe promised him.
A female voice sounded in the background and Ryan said, “Thanks for your help. You can hang up and roll back on top of her now.” The phone went dead immediately, his cousin obviously eager to do just that.
Ryan pulled out some new endorsement contracts that could have waited. A few hours later, when he couldn’t put off going to bed any longer, the situation was just as he’d figured it would be. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Vicki in her sexy red lace panties and strapless bra, reaching for him and pressing her lips against his.
At five a.m., he finally gave up and went to take a cold shower. One that wasn’t even close to cold enough.
Chapter Five
Vicki would have happily remained under the softest sheets she’d ever slept in, had it not been for the incredible smell of bacon and eggs coming from the kitchen.
How long had she been asleep? She couldn’t remember heading to bed...or, she thought as she looked across the room and saw her dress draped carefully over the arm of a chair, taking off her dress for that matter.
Oh God, she thought as she felt her face heat up, had Ryan undressed her last night? She had a vague memory of being in his arms, with her arms around his neck, and his skin warm beneath her lips.
She gasped aloud at the horrifying thought that she might have thrown herself at him, her gasp turning to a moan at the even more horrifying realization that if she had, the solo state of her bed and the intact state of her underwear meant he certainly hadn’t taken her up on it.
Her heart was pounding hard as she stripped off her underwear and got into the shower. The water pressure from the multiple expensive showerheads running down the wall from her head to her calves was heavenly, but she could hardly enjoy it while worrying about what she had—or hadn’t—done to Ryan last night.
She knew he’d be a total gentleman about her throwing herself at him...but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t forever be hugely mortified about it.
Not able to stand not knowing what had happened for another second, she quickly dried off, slicked her hair back into a ponytail that she’d pay for later when the top of her hair was flat and the bottom looked like a bunny’s tail, and threw on a pair of fatigue-print capris and an army-green tank top. Her heart thudded as she made her way down the hall to the stairs.
At the stove, Ryan’s back was to her, but as soon as he heard her footsteps, he turned and said, “Perfect timing. Breakfast is almost up.”
She carefully studied his expression for any awkwardness, but he looked just as easygoing as always. Relief flooded her at the desperate hope that she hadn’t made a complete idiot of herself last night.
Still, the near miss was a very good warning to remember to keep her guard up around Ryan. The last thing she wanted to do was make him uncomfortable in any way. Especially after he’d rushed to her rescue last night and was now letting her crash at his oceanfront mansion.
“Was the bed okay?”
He handed her a plate full of bacon and eggs and toast, and her stomach grumbled in appreciation. “Between the bed and the shower and now breakfast, I’m not sure you’ll
“Hey, Rafe, it’s Ryan.”
His cousin worked as a private detective in Seattle. Ryan always made sure Rafe had killer tickets when they played in the northwest.
“Need some pointers for the game tomorrow?” his cousin joked.
“Not tonight,” Ryan replied.
Realizing he wasn’t calling to shoot the breeze, Rafe said, “What’s wrong? Is everyone in SF okay? Your mom doing all right?”
“They’re all good. Great, actually. I’m calling for a friend of mine. I need you to dig up the dirt on one of her colleagues.”
“Sure thing. What’s the name?”
Ryan spelled it for him.
“I’ll hand over any info as soon I get it,” Rafe promised him.
A female voice sounded in the background and Ryan said, “Thanks for your help. You can hang up and roll back on top of her now.” The phone went dead immediately, his cousin obviously eager to do just that.
Ryan pulled out some new endorsement contracts that could have waited. A few hours later, when he couldn’t put off going to bed any longer, the situation was just as he’d figured it would be. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Vicki in her sexy red lace panties and strapless bra, reaching for him and pressing her lips against his.
At five a.m., he finally gave up and went to take a cold shower. One that wasn’t even close to cold enough.
Chapter Five
Vicki would have happily remained under the softest sheets she’d ever slept in, had it not been for the incredible smell of bacon and eggs coming from the kitchen.
How long had she been asleep? She couldn’t remember heading to bed...or, she thought as she looked across the room and saw her dress draped carefully over the arm of a chair, taking off her dress for that matter.
Oh God, she thought as she felt her face heat up, had Ryan undressed her last night? She had a vague memory of being in his arms, with her arms around his neck, and his skin warm beneath her lips.
She gasped aloud at the horrifying thought that she might have thrown herself at him, her gasp turning to a moan at the even more horrifying realization that if she had, the solo state of her bed and the intact state of her underwear meant he certainly hadn’t taken her up on it.
Her heart was pounding hard as she stripped off her underwear and got into the shower. The water pressure from the multiple expensive showerheads running down the wall from her head to her calves was heavenly, but she could hardly enjoy it while worrying about what she had—or hadn’t—done to Ryan last night.
She knew he’d be a total gentleman about her throwing herself at him...but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t forever be hugely mortified about it.
Not able to stand not knowing what had happened for another second, she quickly dried off, slicked her hair back into a ponytail that she’d pay for later when the top of her hair was flat and the bottom looked like a bunny’s tail, and threw on a pair of fatigue-print capris and an army-green tank top. Her heart thudded as she made her way down the hall to the stairs.
At the stove, Ryan’s back was to her, but as soon as he heard her footsteps, he turned and said, “Perfect timing. Breakfast is almost up.”
She carefully studied his expression for any awkwardness, but he looked just as easygoing as always. Relief flooded her at the desperate hope that she hadn’t made a complete idiot of herself last night.
Still, the near miss was a very good warning to remember to keep her guard up around Ryan. The last thing she wanted to do was make him uncomfortable in any way. Especially after he’d rushed to her rescue last night and was now letting her crash at his oceanfront mansion.
“Was the bed okay?”
He handed her a plate full of bacon and eggs and toast, and her stomach grumbled in appreciation. “Between the bed and the shower and now breakfast, I’m not sure you’ll
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