Roxie just nodded.
Chelsea sighed almost sadly. ‘He used to be so outrageous, dated a different woman every night. Absolute slayer.’
Roxie carefully picked up the tube of cream he’d left on the narrow bed beside her and concentrated extra hard on screwing the cap back on. ‘What changed that?’
‘His ex Diana went crazy for him. Literally crazy.’ Chelsea stepped nearer, her bubbly voice dropping conspiratorially. ‘She was a dancer here, they didn’t even date all that long but she tried to move in on him. I mean, she really did move in one weekend when he was away. It almost got to restraining-order point, but she had a breakdown and her family got her some help.’ Chelsea looked awkward about sharing the info, but she talked on anyway. ‘It wasn’t his fault, she was delusional.Everyone knows he’s never going to put one of these on a girl’s finger.’ Chelsea waggled the fingers of her left hand, and the flash of her massive diamond engagement ring temporarily blinded Roxie.
‘Gabe’s a playboy to the grave. Or he was. Now he’s a repressed playboy.’ Chelsea frowned and fixed Roxie in place with a searching look. ‘When he smiles—too rare these days—all females instantly melt. There’s not a woman in the world who wouldn’t fancy him.’
Roxie knew denial would be too revealing and Chelsea was looking as if she could see straight through her anyway. ‘Well, he is very attractive.’
‘Yeah, but he’s unattainable,’ Chelsea warned. ‘Which makes him all the more attractive to so many women.’ She half laughed and then instantly sobered. ‘But don’t waste your time. He’s signed off from the game. Look, I’ve been with my man so long the others call me matron, but I still know how it works in this place—you get a bunch of fit guys together with a bunch of fit girls and it’s all going to happen. There are twenty-odd gorgeous young things on that team who’d love to play. So if you want, go for it with one of them, just be sure to play safe.’
Roxie swallowed and stood up from the bed, letting her hair fall forward so the blush in her cheeks wouldn’t be so obvious. Now probably wasn’t the time to admit she’d never played at all—well, not all the way through a game. And she hadn’t looked twice at any of the players—but their doctor? She stepped to get the pills so Chelsea couldn’t see her face as she asked, ‘Why did that girl go so crazy for Gabe?’
‘You’ve got eyes, right?’
‘Yeah, but sometimes good-lookers don’t think they have to make any effort.’ She’d read that in a magazine. She turned to get Chelsea’s answer.
‘Rumor has it his technique is even better than his body. I don’t know the truth of that myself but I’d believe it.’ Chelsea looked worried. ‘Look, so many girls have tried it with him and failed in the last few months since Diana. Save yourself the humiliation—I’ve seen them fall but he rejectsharshlyand then they resign. I don’t want to lose another dancer, especially one as interesting as you, sopleasedon’t go after him.’
Roxie laughed—she’d never gone after a guy in her life; she wouldn’t know where to start. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’
And she didn’t want to jeopardize her spot on the Blades—she’d wanted that for too long. But a part deep inside her flamed because Gabe hadwanted tokiss her. She might not be all that experienced but she’d known that. Which meant he wasn’t entirely unattainable. Oh, yes, temptation whispered—tantalizing her with the fantasy. She wanted that experience—to finally take a lover and a damn good one. If Gabe was that great, couldn’t he be the one to do it all with? Clearly he didn’t want commitment—none of that lovelorn, clinging stuff. But nor did she. She had no intention of being pulled into a relationship. Her freedom had been a long time in coming and she wasn’t giving it up for anyone.
Hours later, as he drove to his new home Gabe rationalized. It didn’t matter, the Blades only rehearsed on site once a week and he was well used to avoiding them at that time anyway. She’d be there during the games, but he was busy with the boys for all that time. He didn’t attend the after-match functions at the home stadium as a rule now. So while he might glimpse her every now and then, that would be it. He could live with that for just this season. Sure he could.
But when he got to the Treehouse he couldn’t help looking at the window above the garage. The curtain wasn’t drawn; therewas no sign of life. The garage was locked but a wall of boxes blocked the back window so he couldn’t see if a car was parked in there. He had no way of knowing whether she was home or not. Unless he knocked on her door.
The tablets he’d given her could cause drowsiness. He sighed. So what? That was no reason to bother. She’d be fine. Only there were probably druggies and vagrants in that park in the dark of the night. And she was on the edge of it, alone. In a room above a rickety garage that had to be the size of a postage stamp. Yeah, the niggle turned into a nag and then into a frankly disturbing level of worry. The only way to get rid of it was to see her for himself and thus be sure she was okay. And that was the only reason he wanted to see her. Medical—a professional capacity. But he wasn’t her doctor or anything. He was determinednotto be that. A concerned acquaintance?
Oh, screw it. He thumped up the stairs, hoping to make enough noise to ensure she’d hear his arrival. He rapped hard on the door. Rapped harder. Shouted out her name. It was at the point when he was considering smashing the lock that he heard a grumbling response.
Finally the door swung open.
At first all he saw was the tee shirt. Less than a second later realized that all she wore was the tee shirt. Cute, cotton, white thing. Maybe there were panties, but maybe not. His tongue gummed to the roof of his mouth.
‘Is everything okay?’ Drowsily she tucked her hair back behind her ears.
‘That’s what I was coming to ask you,’ he muttered, barely more intelligible than a grunting Neanderthal. Even sleepy her eyes sparkled. He then made the massive mistake of glancing down. Thighs, calves, ankles. Her long, tanned legs that were slender but also hinted at strength. Yeah, supple muscles were shown off under the gorgeous stretch of golden skin and hewanted to reach out and run his fingers down their warm length. Wanted them to spread again for him.
‘I think it’s okay,’ she said huskily. ‘It doesn’t seem to be any worse.’
He flinched. He’d totally forgotten about the sting, he’d just been checking her out and wondering about the undies. And now she held her leg slightly outstretched meaning he caught the glimpse of lace-edged silk covering her crotch. His tongue actually tingled as the urge to drop to his knees hit him. He wanted to lick her there. Oh, hell, everywhere.
Cotton tee shirt. He frowned, forced himself to think on the cotton. Not the lace panties. Sweet not sexy. Not sophisticated. Not appropriate. She was his landlady. This would be mess-up central if he followed the path his body was determinedly dragging him towards. He swallowed, furious with his rapid descent into peeping Tom territory.
‘Make sure you reapply the cream.’ He snapped more than he meant to.
Her sleepy blue eyes widened. ‘Why are you so grumpy?’
He glowered. ‘I’m not.’
‘Oh, you so are.’ She grinned, undaunted. ‘But I think it’s still there, buried beneath the frown.’
‘What’s still there?’ He couldn’t resist asking.
‘The ability to have fun.’
