He’d done it for love.
And she felt a little spurt of affection and of purpose. She—Jenna Rothchild—could actually help make a difference. A real difference.
To these lives.
To his.
She slammed the SUV door closed behind her, started toward him, careful not to catch her heels on the cracked concrete. “I still can’t believe anyone actually physically exerts themselves in this heat,” she muttered.
Lex grinned, and took her hand. As he did, a sharp jolt of energy whipped up her arm and slammed into her chest. Shocked, Jenna stopped dead, stared at him. And she could see in his unshaded eyes that he’d felt it, too. Again, thoughts of The Tears of the Quetzal shimmered eerily into her mind as she stared into his green eyes. She felt shaken. And oh so out of place.
He glanced away sharply, equally rattled, and he started to lead her around the fence, making for a stand of metal risers along the perimeter of the field. Jenna stumbled after him, her sharp heels sinking deeply, awkwardly into bone-dry sand.
Jenna loved heels. They made her feel feminine. They made her feel complete when she dressed. But for the first time in her life, be damned, Lex was making her feel wrong in her own clothes. In her own city.
“You could have at least told me what to wear,” she grumbled.
That smirk played over his mouth again, but he said nothing.
She stopped again, withdrawing her hand from his. “Oh, wait, I get it.” She scooted her oversized designer shades higher up her nose. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“What? You mean taking daddy’s little casino princess out of her shiny tower and putting her down in the dirt? Showing her how real folk live on the other end of town? Now why would I want to do that?”
She glared at him.
His eyes sparkled, naked against the harsh glare.
The sound of a boot resounding off pigskin echoed over the field as one of the guys kicked the football, his skin gleaming ebony with sweat under the relentless sun. Another teen caught it, absorbing impact with his body, then ran. The others were doing exercise drills. But they all stopped, began milling about, watching from the distance as Lex and Jenna approached the risers.
She knew they had to be wondering who she was, why she was here. And for the first time since elementary school, before the girls decided she was “cool,” Jenna actually felt self-conscious.
“Hey, Coach!” The guy with the ball yelled, punching his arm high into the sky.
Lex raised his hand. “Be right there!” He stopped at the risers. “You want to watch from here?”
She shielded her eyes. There was nowhere else, no shade in sight. “A hat, Lex. You could have suggested I bring a hat. And sunscreen.”
He held out his duffel bag. “All in here. Ball cap, sunscreen, sports drink, water. Camera. The guys would love some shots of practice, if you’re up to it.”
Jenna wasn’t sure whether to curse at him, call her father’s chauffeur to come fetch her, or just show Lex that she could suck it up and take whatever curveball he was going to throw at her next. She grabbed the bag handles. “So, now I know what turns you on, Agent Duncan—making fun of me.”
His gaze skimmed brazenly over her body. “It’s just one of the things—” he said, lowering his voice “—that turns me on, Jenna.”
Her nipples hardened in spite of the heat, and she swallowed. “Guess I asked for it, huh?” she said softly.
A delicious smile curved over his lips. “I guess you did, princess.” He hooked his knuckle gently under her chin. “Would you prefer I take you home?”
“If I said yes, would you?”
He laughed—a glorious sound deep and throaty, from somewhere in his broad chest. It rippled over her skin, unsettling her further.
“What is so damn hilarious? Why are you laughing?”
“Because, Jenna.” He tilted her chin up gently. “I know you won’t say yes.”
“A gambling man are you then?”
“Just an astute reader of personality. I think you pointed that out yourself over dinner. And you, Jenna, are a fighter. In your own sweet way.”
“And you, Lex, are annoyingly patronizing,” she snapped, as she yanked the bag from his hand and turned to climb the bleachers before realizing that in her tight skirt, she was going nowhere up. She was going to be relegated to the bottom rung. The universe was trying to tell her something today.
“Glad you find me so amusing,” she said, dumping his bag down on the bottom riser. She rummaged through it, finding his water bottle, and she took a deep and thirsty swallow, wiping a spill from her mouth with the back of her wrist. “Still can’t believe anyone can handle physical exertion in this hellish weather. I’ll be the one sitting here saying I-told-you-so when one of your guys collapses and dies.”