Playing with the Prop: (Rugby erotic romance)(Strathstow Sharks) by Mina Carter

had been to her.
    The lock on the door clicked, and she yanked her head up and around, but he was already there beside her.
    “Ashley, I know what you’ve heard, and I know it sounds bad…” He took the clipboard from her, throwing it to the couch behind him before crouching in front of her chair to take her hands in his. She fought him for a second, but it was no good. He wasn’t taking no for an answer.
    “Cal Wright saw us leave the bar the other night and made a bunch of shit up.” Looking into her eyes, he stroked a thumb over her hand, his voice serious. “You have to believe me. I would never say stuff like that. Not about you. About us.”
    Her face stony, she glared back and did her best to ignore the warm feeling trying to crack through the wall she’d erected around her heart earlier.
    He moved closer, drawing her hands up to his lips to press a kiss across her knuckles. “Please, sweetheart, you have to believe me.”
    She arched her eyebrow. “Now why would Callum start spreading gossip, unless someone had said something to him?”
    Surprise flowed over his features, his thumb pausing. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t know.”
    “Know what?” Irritation joined discomfort, which made a peculiar dance partner with the butterflies that crowded her stomach at his touch. Quite inappropriately, her memory chose that moment to replay the highlights of their night together. Their very hot, very sexy night.
    Harry dropped his head back, blowing out a breath, and then looked at her. “Callum’s had a thing about you for years. He can’t accept you’re mine. So he made shit up to make you mad at me.”
    “Huh?” It wasn’t the most intelligent rejoinder, but it was all she could come up with at the moment as she tried to process that nugget of information.
    Harry surged into movement, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. In as slick a move as she’d seen on any dance floor, he turned her, and she found herself up against the couch in the center of the room. Without effort, he lifted her to sit on the towel-covered surface, and put his hands on either side of her hips.
    “You’re mine,” he declared, determination written on his face. “Have been since the moment I saw you. Callum’s still pissy about it. Hence playing fucking games to upset you and break us up.”
    Her head whirled with all the new information. It was just too much.
    “Stop.” She planted a hand in the center of his chest, pushing him so she could get a little breathing space. “Back up. Callum’s pissy about what? And when did I become yours ?”
    He didn’t break her hold, just pushed gently until she gave in. Lifting his hands, he slid them into her hair, forcing her to look up at him.
    “You’ve always been mine, sweet stuff,” he whispered. “You just didn’t know it. But I knew it…the rest of the squad knew it.”
    The warmth around her heart increased, eating away at her determination to have nothing to do with him. It all sounded plausible. Except… “Hmmm, so how did they know then? You guys developed some kind of player to player ESP?”
    “I told them. Had to warn a fair few that you were my girl, and they didn’t go messin’. Not unless they wanted to deal with me.” He grinned, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “On or off the pitch, they soon got the message. Apart from Callum. He had it for you bad.”
    “Oh my…” She blinked, her surprise melting away as she thought over several encounters with the younger player. He’d always seemed to hang around the treatment rooms, or wander around the changing rooms in just a towel…which “slipped” just as she’d walk by. She’d dismissed it as him being an extrovert at the time.
    “See?” He moved closer, nudging her thighs apart so he could lean between them. To her surprise, she let him. “So when he saw us leaving the bar…the rumours had already started before I arrived this morning.” Anger flashed across his face. “I