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  Still, he’d had his biological father in mind while he’d played QB for Boston College and won the Heisman. With no reply to his request that Spencer represent him, Riley had been the first-round draft pick, with Yank Morgan as his agent. Still nothing from his old man. He’d taken that silence as the final slap.

  Once Riley had accepted that the man would never publicly acknowledge him as his son, he’d told himself he didn’t care. If the man didn’t want anything from Riley, Riley didn’t need a damn thing from him. He no longer worried about what other people thought of him and had carried the same attitude over into his life, doing things his way.

  Riley had started his career with Cincinnati and hoped to end it where he played now, with the New York Giants. He was a good enough player to get away with coloring outside the lines, something his coaches and his agent accepted and understood because as much as he looked out for number one, he looked out for his team as well.

  Looking back at the path he’d chosen and the reasons behind it, Riley realized it was a damn good thing he loved his profession. Otherwise he’d have wasted his life pursuing a football career just so he could get the attention of a man who wanted nothing to do with him.

  As today’s headlines proved, Riley didn’t know a damn thing about who Spencer Atkins was or what he wanted. He only knew what Atkins wanted the world to see. So in addition to “absent, disinterested parent,” Atkins could now add “fake” to his impressive résumé.

  “Way to go, Pop,” Riley muttered under his breath.

  “Did you say something?” Julia, a beautiful redhead who’d spent the night in his bed, strode in from the other room.

  He’d been so caught off guard by the news in the paper, he’d all but forgotten Julia was waiting in the bedroom.

  Coming up beside him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you come back to bed?” She eased her body into his lap.

  “Nothing important.” He turned to kiss her full on the lips, running his hand over her breasts. His body responded immediately, assuring him he was nothing like the old man.

  The old man he only knew about from stories his mother had told him when he was a kid. They’d broken up because they were incompatible, she’d said. They’d wanted different things out of life. Those once vague words began to make more sense now. Had his mother known about Spencer all along? Had she found out during their marriage? Or was she discovering the truth now over her morning coffee, along with the rest of the world?

  Suddenly, Julia rose to her feet. “Your mind’s somewhere else,” she chided softly.

  “Yeah.” He glanced down, unable to deny the obvious.

  “Well, I really need to get back to the hotel anyway. My plane leaves at noon.”

  Julia was a flight attendant who traveled the world and sometimes called Riley when she was in New York. Sometimes not. The arrangement worked well since Riley had an irregular schedule, thanks to his joint-custody arrangement with his ex-wife.

  His thirteen-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, came first on his list of priorities. Yet another way he was nothing like the man who hadn’t raised him.

  He followed Julia back into the bedroom.

  She strode over to the bed, unaffectedly naked and began picking up her clothes. “Did I tell you Jacques asked me to marry him?” She casually tossed the news his way.

  He raised an eyebrow, not surprised the words didn’t elicit a reaction one way or another. He enjoyed Julia but he wasn’t in love with her.

  “Then how come I don’t see a ring?” he asked lightly.

  She shrugged. “I told him I’d think about it.” She pulled her shirt over her head, the spandex molding to her near perfect curves. “I’m getting tired of the traveling, the hotel rooms. It’s lonely. I could give up my career and not look back,” she admitted.

  Riley nodded. “I hear you. There comes a time everyone has to make choices.” He paused and met her gaze. “I take it this is…goodbye, then?”

  She nodded. “I couldn’t say yes without telling you. And besides I thought we deserved one last time together.” She treated him to a smile.

  An easy parting, he thought thankfully. He’d been blessed that way. Even his short marriage to Lisa had ended amicably and they’d never argued over custody or money, mainly because as the mother of his child, he’d denied her nothing and even increased her monthly payments as his career had soared. Just a case of marrying too young and expecting too little.

  Similar to his own parents, or so he’d always thought. Once again he caught himself wondering about Spencer Atkins. Had Spencer’s marriage been a ruse? An attempt to live a so-called normal life? Had Riley been conceived out of love as he’d been told by his mother or as the unfortunate result of a lie on the part of his father?

  So many questions. He wished he didn’t give a damn, but Riley could no longer deny his curiosity. And if he wanted to know more, so would the reporters who’d gotten wind of this story. They’d dig and dig deep. They’d find the marriage certificate that bore the names of Spencer Atkins and his mother and they’d discover that she’d had a child.

  In no time the scandal would reach his stepfather, who was running for the United States Senate as a representative of the great state of Mississippi. A lifetime’s worth of hard work and dedication, and aspirations of living in the White House would go down the drain. Riley wouldn’t let that happen.

  Of course he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit some self-interest in the matter, too. If the press found out the relationship between Riley and Atkins, Riley’s life in the locker room would be a living hell. The guys would question his masculinity and not even his marriage and kid would save him. Like father, like son the guys would say. Riley could hold his own with his teammates and he knew the scandal would blow over with time, but his teenage daughter didn’t need the hassle from the fallout.

  Riley shook his head at the irony. A lifetime of wishing the man would acknowledge him and now it was the last thing he wanted.

  His best option was to reach Spencer before the media did and convince him not to talk. Which shouldn’t be a stretch for a man who’d made silence an art form. Frustration filled Riley over the need to turn to Spencer Atkins for anything, but he reminded himself that it wasn’t his own needs driving him. He’d be making the effort for his parents and his daughter.

  The time had come for father and son to meet face-to-face at last.

  THREE DAYS HAD PASSED and Spencer was officially MIA. Sophie paced her office, wearing a path in the plush carpeting, which she’d discovered was twenty-five steps from the window overlooking the East River to the bathroom in the far corner. Back and forth, back and forth, but no matter how far she walked, the reality never changed. The football draft was three weeks away and Spencer Atkins had taken off for parts unknown.

  John Cashman, this year’s Heisman winner and almost newly signed client, was calling hourly to speak with Spencer or Yank. Yank’s cruise made him unavailable and the younger agents weren’t appeasing Cashman with their answers.

  Sophie’s palms sweated over the athlete’s last threat. If he didn’t speak to Spencer by the end of the week, he’d sign with the Cambias Agency, their number one competition.

  Uncle Yank and Spencer inspired loyalty and cared about their clients’ future, while Cambias only saw dollar signs in his bank account. But a young, healthy, starry-eyed kid who’d never been injured wouldn’t appreciate the experience Spencer and Uncle Yank brought to the table. And at the moment, Cashman wasn’t listening to anything Sophie or the other agents had to say.

  The dog she was babysitting stared from the place she’d adopted as her own. Noodle, Uncle Yank’s Labradoodle, carelessly lounged on the client-designated chair. When not rolling over onto her back for a belly rub, she licked herself in unmentionable places. Sophie didn’t mind watching the dog, but animals really weren’t her thing.

  Which was why she steered clear of any p
ersonal relationships with professional athletes, she thought, giving herself her first real laugh of the day. A laugh she desperately needed. With the recent marriages, honeymoons and pregnancy, Sophie was in charge here at the office and she’d never felt so alone. It was a state she’d judiciously avoided since her parents’ deaths. She’d also avoided feeling as lost and scared as she had when she’d lost her mother and father by maintaining firm control over life.

  Some called her anal. She figured she was smart. And being smart, she couldn’t let chaos seep into the agency, despite all that was going on.

  Yesterday she’d received a handwritten note from Spencer, postmarked from New York. “Laying low. Back in time for draft.” As if that would pacify John Cashman.

  She walked over to the chalkboard she kept with everyone’s schedules marked on it. All active clients on the sports side were divided among the agency representatives. She’d doled out the PR to the new people she and her sisters had hired in the past few months, opting to leave the handling of Spencer’s situation for herself.

  So far she’d avoided the media because she wasn’t ready to give a statement without talking to the man in question, which was one less thing to deal with, at least for now.

  But the draft players represented by Yank and Spencer were antsy.

  She picked up the phone and buzzed Spencer’s personal secretary, a woman named Frannie who’d worked for him for years. Frannie ran Spencer’s life.

  “Frannie, this is Sophie. Can you bring me a list of all the places Spencer has vacationed in the past few years along with the phone numbers of any relatives he regularly speaks to?”

  “Not a problem, but I don’t think he’d contact those people or go to any place that the press could easily find him.”

  Sophie sighed. “I know you’re right but I have to do something. Otherwise I’ll lose my mind. How’s it going with Cashman?”

  “I told him Spencer was due to call, but we just didn’t know when, and as soon as we heard from him, he’d hear from us. And I made him promise not to do something stupid in the meantime.”

  Sophie tried to breathe steadily so she didn’t get light-headed and pass out, something she was known to do on occasion. “I don’t trust him or Cambias but it’s the best we’ve got for now. Thanks, Frannie.”

  “Hang in there, honey. I’ll get those names to you as soon as I can.” Frannie disconnected.

  No sooner had Sophie hung up the phone when someone knocked on her door. Obviously her secretary wasn’t sitting at her desk to intercept him. Lori did her work but enjoyed her coffee breaks more.

  “Come in,” Sophie called out, hoping this was good news for a change.

  She turned to greet her visitor and knew immediately she was in deep trouble. He had a black leather jacket slung over his wide shoulders, razor stubble on his handsome face and a reputation that preceded him. Although Sophie and The Hot Zone had never handled Riley Nash’s publicity, he’d been a client of her uncle’s too long for her not to know him.

  He made his presence known each time he came to the office. He oozed raw male sexuality. And her body responded to it, despite her brain’s warnings to ignore the man. Normally her body listened to whatever Sophie’s analytical mind dictated but not when it came to Riley Nash.

  As partners in The Hot Zone, Sophie and her siblings shared equal responsibility, but as sisters they had an understanding. Micki handled the difficult athletes and Annabelle the jocks, which was how they’d ended up paired with Damian Fuller and Brandon Vaughn, respectively. Sophie took care of the more refined aspects of the business. She booked photo shoots, galas and large charity events. Things that she could control.

  Sophie didn’t do jocks. Not in any sense of the word. So the fact that she drooled at the sight of her uncle’s star football client really ticked her off. She hated that this cocky jock could affect her on a purely elemental level when the other men who came and went from these offices didn’t even make her blink. Riley Nash blew her precious control to hell and back.

  She desired him badly and he knew it. He also knew the attraction flustered her and he took shameless advantage, going out of his way to seek her out and push her buttons. And just when she didn’t think the sexual tension between them could soar much higher, he’d stop by her office for a visit and up the ante between them. That he’d show up here now, mid-crisis, was a move she hadn’t anticipated and sure as hell didn’t appreciate.

  Drawing a deep breath, she leaned against the desk and resisted the urge to check her hair and makeup. “Let me guess. You charmed your way past my secretary?” she asked him.

  “If she’d been at her desk, I’m sure I would have.” He strode forward, full of cocky male attitude. “Nobody was outside to stop me.”

  She sighed. This day was just getting better and better.

  He stepped beside her, standing so close his warm scent penetrated her pores and she grew damp in places he never failed to remind her existed. She no longer tried to convince herself that her reaction was normal for a woman who’d been sexually deprived for well over a year. Her sudden increase in temperature and spike in arousal had everything to do with Riley Nash.

  “So what can I do for you?” she asked him.

  He grinned. “Depends on what you’re offering, sweet thing.”

  Each time he spoke, he confirmed her notion that he was the embodiment of every jock nightmare she’d ever had. Raunchy, sexist, impossible to control. It didn’t matter. The man’s mere existence turned her into a drooling idiot.

  She looked him up and down, trying to appear as if he didn’t faze her one bit. “Turn down the wattage on that smile, big boy. I’m busy and don’t have time to indulge your flirting today.” She glanced at her watch and tapped on the dial. “Well? What can I do for you?”

  His smile withered. “I need to see Atkins.”

  “Yank’s your agent,” she reminded him as if he were dense.

  “This is personal not professional.”

  His words took her by surprise. As far as Sophie knew, Riley had no dealings with Spencer Atkins or his former agency. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been to the office since the merger. “I didn’t realize you two knew one another.”

  “And I didn’t realize I had to answer to you before I could see my…before I could see Spencer.” He clenched his jaw tight, obviously withholding information.

  Sophie was in no mood to push him for answers or bait him today. She had enough on her plate. “Look, it’s been a long day.” It was as much of an apology as she was willing to offer him.

  He glanced at his watch and chuckled, his light brown eyes dancing with flecks of gold. “It’s only ten in the morning.”

  “Exactly,” she said wryly.

  He met her gaze and the connection she couldn’t deny sparked to life between them. She wished it was purely sexual, but something about the man captured her so completely, she often wondered what more existed beneath the jock exterior. Something had to for her to be so drawn to him. She just wasn’t the type to be hooked by something as insubstantial and superficial as sex appeal.

  “So what’s got you all riled up so early, if not my dazzling presence?” he asked.

  “Let’s just say you could see Spencer if I knew where he was.” The admission was a huge one. She was trusting Riley’s discretion.

  He lowered himself onto the corner of her desk and nodded slowly. “I guess if I were Atkins, I’d be laying low, too.”

  “I take it you’ve seen the articles.” Not only had the papers picked up on the gossip column entry and turned it into front page headlines, but they’d noted Spencer’s sudden disappearance from his usual lunch and dinner haunts.

  Riley nodded.

  “But that doesn’t mean he ran away,” she said defensively. “How about you leave your number and I call you once I reach him?”

  He tipped his head to one side. “No can do.”

  “Well, you can’t stick around here waiting who knows how l
ong just to have a personal word with—”

  “My father.”

  “What?”

  Riley winced at his admission, then ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “What guarantee do I have that you’ll keep that information confidential?”

  “My word.” She tried not to show how affronted she was by Riley’s lack of faith considering she’d just divulged sensitive business information herself.

  “I’d prefer something more tangible.” Riley reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wallet, thumbed through some bills and then lifted a folded check from inside.

  Without warning, he looked up and met her stare and she discovered he was just as hot when he wasn’t deliberately turning on the charm. His gaze simmered with heat that had nothing to do with sex, but suddenly Sophie couldn’t think of anything else. Those big hands wrapped around the check had her imagining all sorts of other things he could do with them—to her.

  He grabbed a pen and began to fill out the empty spaces on the check, all business.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m hiring you.” His head was still bent over as he wrote.

  His sandy-colored hair was shaggy, long and as sexy as the man himself.

  “That way I can divulge all my personal secrets and you’re bound to keep things confidential.”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear them and her mouth grew dry. “I’m not a lawyer.”

  “No, but you’re a publicist and if I hire you and tell you things about my life and career, you won’t go spilling the information to the press without my permission. True?” He cocked an eyebrow in certainty.

  She nodded. “True.”

  “Then consider yourself hired.”

  Sophie accepted the check with trembling hands. She’d just entered into a business agreement that was bound to give her deeper insight into Riley Nash. And that shift in their dynamic could very well increase her desire for the man. As if her life wasn’t complicated enough, Riley had just joined her for the ride.