The Reluctant Wag by Mary Costello Page B

herself. She was acting like some besotted barracker drooling over her petty footy god. Why did he make her feel like this? She didn’t even like him, not really; he was just so damned . . . intriguing. Anyway, she should be focusing on her studies. Thankfully, classes started again the following week. That would help keep her mind off Cal. And she went to find one of her new textbooks and settled down to read.
    Cal just knew. He sensed something before he even opened the paper that morning. He’d made himself a big breakfast and taken it out to the privacy of his courtyard garden. When he turned over the pages and saw the shot of himself and Merise the food almost stuck in his throat. But even as he registered his annoyance at the invasion of his privacy, he couldn’t help lingering on her image.
    He hated the effect she had on him. She was nothing like the glamazons who normally fawned over him and made it clear that they were very available, in every way possible. It was the fact that the prickly Ms Merrick would certainly be very unavailable that made her so intriguing. Maybe some day he’d change her mind about that, and he’d really enjoy the challenge. He wouldn’t push her. She would need a lot of time and careful handling.
    He remembered Murdoch manhandling her. He could have killed the idiot. Cal had noticed Merise earlier – no way he could help it in that skimpy number – but he was determined to stay well clear of her. No point in making things any harder than they were. Why the hell had she been there on her own anyway? He wouldn’t have picked her for the party type. Maybe she’d been seduced by the celebrity lifestyle after all. He realised that he really didn’t know Merise Merrick, and he needed to be aware that she was a future journalist. She was probably always on the prowl for news. He’d better watch his step; he wasn’t planning to be part of her first big scoop.
    At first, the Friday night shoot wasn’t as awkward as Merise had imagined. She’d been instructed by the imperious director, Kyle, to simply stand off to one side with a group of other supporters, watching the players go through their warm-ups.
    ‘Just look interested, until Cal comes in – then you step forward and get excited, got that?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Merise tightly as she felt herself blush and squirm; she’d be getting excited anyway, but she’d actually be trying to hide it.
    ‘Then after a bit he’ll come over to you and chat for a moment before the rooms are cleared, okay? Got that?’
    ‘Okay’ she nodded, trying to seem impassive. She kept up that façade as the players gradually arrived and began stretching or going through handball drills. She wasn’t at all affected by the sight of so many young athletes flexing their well-developed muscles just metres away until Cal came in. As he walked through from the locker room he was talking animatedly to the head coach, already absorbed in the game to come. He wouldn’t even notice her, Merise told herself, which was just as well, because she was immediately aware that he wasn’t wearing his guernsey and the sight of his golden, muscle-hardened body was deeply disturbing.
    She gulped and tried to slide behind a group of men who had sent up a cheer at the sight of the captain. But Kyle was instantly at her elbow hissing, ‘What are you doing? Come out of there. I said excited, Merise – now, please!’ and he pushed her forward into Cal’s path.
    Cal turned, momentarily annoyed, then recognised her. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said unenthusiastically. ‘Damn it, I’d forgotten about this nonsense.’
    She didn’t know what to say. She just wanted to disappear.
    ‘It’ll only take a moment, darling,’ said Paige Gorton, who had appeared from behind Cal. ‘Just say “rhubarb” and smile charmingly.’
    He laughed at that and his whole face became at once so much more appealing. The forbidding frown cleared and he looked down at Merise with humour in