She blinks, and almost subconsciously, the tip of her soft tongue darts out to wet her parted, bee-stung lips.
And I am right back to that night from four weeks ago.
Fuck, what is she doing here? What is Serena Roth, of the Houston Bulls doing at a conference between me and Sam Horn’s attorney concerning the future of the Denver Rattlesnakes?
Robert shatters the moment as he claps his hands together. “Ah, wonderful! I wasn’t aware the two of you knew each other!”
“We’ve met.”
We’ve met.
It’s such an asinine thing to say, and I can tell it’s received just as well as it’s given by the sour look on her face.
“What are you doing here?” she spits out.
I frown, her immediate sour reaction rubbing me the wrong way.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I growl back, crossing my arms across my chest.
“I-” she scowls at me, narrowing her eyes at me like she’s accusing me of something before she turns back to Robert.
“What am I doing here, exactly?”
Robert smiles. “As I was saying, do you know Mr. Horn personally?”
I could laugh.
“No, she doesn’t,” I spit out. She whirls back to me, and for one brief and rare second, I have a momentary doubt as I lock eyes with her again.
“You don’t, do you?”
“No!”
Didn’t think so.
Robert’s going on and on, but I’m not even hearing him as I stare at Serena. That is, until he mentions something about “non-disclosure”, and my mouth opens before I can stop it.
“Damn straight,” I mutter.
What’s going on with Sam - what I gather Robert is about to tell her - is none of her goddamn concern. Right now, the board, the attorneys, and I are the only ones who know about the accident, and three and a half weeks before the season opener, you can be damn sure that’s the way it’s going to stay. Hell, the damn team doesn’t know - I’m sure as hell not letting an employee of a rival team out of this office with that information without a serious threat of court action.
“Five days ago, Sam Horn had a stroke. He’s currently in a medically induced coma, and per the terms of his estate, we have some things to go over with you concerning his will.”
Wait, what?
Serena shakes her head, her long dark hair tossing in waves from side to side. “I already told you, I don’t know-”
“I’m afraid that’s irrelevant, Ms. Roth.” Robert sighs. “As I mentioned, he apparently knows you.”
I step forward, shaking my head. “What the hell does this have to do with her?”
“Landon, this has to do with both of you, actually.”
It’s the scent of her shampoo that I remember. And being this close to her, our shoulders almost touching on this side of the table opposite Robert, it’s creating a war of sorts inside of me. On one side, there’s the need to protect what’s mine. One side of me sees her for exactly what she is: the enemy. An employee of a rival team who’s somehow snuck or charmed her way into this meeting to sabotage or cut us where we’re weak.
But then there’s the other side. There’s the side that smells that scent of her hair, and feels the heat of the bare skin of her shoulder a mere two inches away from my body, and instantly remembers the way she felt when I claimed her. It’s the side of me that sends the blood roaring directly to my cock as I’m forcibly reminded of the way she smelled, and of the way she tasted.
Of the way she came.
Two primal urges locked in a deadlocked battle inside.
I hear words like “non-responsiveness” and “estate”, but I already know what’s been going on with Sam.
“Two individuals listed in his will. That would be you, Landon, as well as Ms. Roth here.”
The memory of that night shatters at Robert’s words, and I suddenly see clearly.
It’s like a horrible realization as I realize with perfect clarity where this is going, even if I can’t for the life of me fathom it.
“Until such a time when he can be brought to responsive consciousness, full control of Samuel Horn’s wealth and assets lies with the two of you. And that does include his ownership and majority stakeholder share in the Rattlesnakes, of course.”
Of course.
Of course, it means my career, my boardroom, and Sam’s entire legacy now belong to-
“I’m sorry, what exactly does that mea-”
“It means you own half my fucking team.”
The words drop like lead from my mouth. She turns back to me, and I hold those big green eyes of her with my own.
“It means we’re fucking teammates now.”
Chapter Three