Knowing the Score Read online

  Ashley quickly adjusted the volume so as not to disturb the other shoppers at Pets R Us, where she was buying hamster chow and fresh bedding for Teddy. Oh, the glamorous life of a jewelry designer. One day, she was at a polo match rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous. The next, she was cleaning out a hamster cage.

  “How is your father-in-law, Tisha? That is why you are in South America, right?”

  “Believe me, I know that. We got in a few hours ago and this is the first chance I’ve had to call. He’s sicker than we thought, Ashley.” Her voice broke.

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Ashley could sympathize. She had cried buckets when her father had left them. “How is Paolo?”

  “Awful. I’ve never seen him cry before.” Tisha sniffed loudly.

  Ashley felt a pop under her fingers and realized she’d literally squeezed the stuffing out of the bag of bedding. She tucked back the fluffy paper. “Tisha, do you want me to come?” Tisha had been her rock throughout childhood and Ashley owed her more than she could say. She’d put the airplane ticket on her groaning business credit card and hope for the best.

  “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ve been worrying about you.”

  “Me? Don’t you have enough to worry about already?”

  “Listen, if I can think about you and your problems, I don’t have to think about mine. Got it?”

  In a strange, twisted way of logic, Ashley did understand.

  Tisha purposely brightened her voice. “So, I called the club and made arrangements for you to have a one-day pass. They’re normally pretty strict about letting guests in alone without a member, but I explained our situation and that I didn’t want to disappoint you or deprive you of the famed Bella Florida Polo Club hospitality due to my family emergency.”

  “By myself?” Look what trouble she’d gotten herself into after a short time wandering around the polo club—kissing and fondling a total stranger in the moonlight. Who knows what damage she could do in a whole day?

  “Enric Bruguera will be there starting tomorrow. He swam for the Spanish Olympic team a long time ago, but they say he still likes to swim laps early in the morning. Put on your suit and lurk around the club pool. Wear some of your jewelry and see if he likes it.”

  Ashley looked at the bare spot on her wrist where her favorite bracelet had been, the first one she could afford to keep for herself. She’d lost it somewhere at the polo club. Maybe someone had turned it in to the lost and found. She idly wondered what else would be there. Gold cigarette lighters? A bikini top? A stray polo boot?

  “Ashley?” Tisha sounded impatient. “You only have tomorrow. After that, they won’t let you in until I come back. And heaven knows when that will be. Enric will certainly be gone.”

  “Okay, Tish, I’ll do my best.” She charged toward the checkout line. To-do list: clean hamster cage, feed hamster, shave her legs…boy, the fun never ended. “Give the boys and Paolo a hug for me. I’ll be thinking about you.”

  “Thanks. Keep me posted. Okay, un minuto, I’ll be there in a minute,” she called to someone. “Gotta go, Ash. Take care.” She hung up.

  Poor Tisha. Ashley hoped her father-in-law got better quickly. And to think that Tisha was worrying about her despite her own problems. Ashley refused to disappoint her.

  “GOOD MORNING, Beckett.”

  Beck winced. Served him right for answering his phone without checking the caller ID. “Good morning, Mother.” Madeline Louisa Beckett Emery had never been Mom or, God forbid, Mommy. Although she hadn’t liked it when he had called his nanny Mommy.

  “I hope you are well.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Your aunt Mimi tells me you are in the middle of a polo tournament, which is why I didn’t see you at the board meeting last week.”

  Ugh, the board meeting. “Yes, Mother, I just arrived a couple of days ago from Argentina and didn’t have time to come to New York.”

  “Beckett, you are an important board member.” His mother was the chairman of the financial company that her grandfather had founded. “I need you to come for moral support.”

  He rolled his eyes. His mother needed moral support like a shark needed fishing lessons. What she meant was, she needed his vote to steamroll the other board members. “Let me know when the next meeting is. If I can be there, I will.”

  She sighed. “I appreciate your hard-driving, competitive edge on the polo field, but I wish you would bring it to running our company.”

  Playing polo was fun—running a company where his mother wouldn’t let him make any decisions was not.

  “After all,” she continued, “polo is a young man’s game, and well…”

  “Mother, you know very well polo players can play into their seventies. The horse is the one doing all the running, after all.” He laughed at his joke, but as usual, she didn’t. “Besides, I’m not even thirty yet.”

  “Beckett, by the time your father and I were thirty, we’d been married almost ten years and had you and your sister. It’s been four years since you earned your MBA—plenty of time to find a suitable young woman and join our firm.”

  “Mother, you already have a perfectly good staff.” He’d interned there for several summers and knew most of them well. If he worked there on a regular basis, he had no doubt someone would get laid off to make room for him. “Especially your upper management.”

  “None is an Emery.” And that was that.

  He made some more chit-chat with his mother, promising to come to New York for the next board meeting. “And how is Father?”

  Her voice grew even more chilly. “I believe he is in St. Maarten currently.”

  Beck rolled his eyes. Preston Emery was an avid sailor and only left the Caribbean during hurricane season. What he did on his sailboat was his father’s own business—and his mother’s, too, he supposed. And his mother wondered why her son hadn’t settled down?

  He’d probably be the male equivalent of Aunt Mimi, happily single all his life and content to follow the polo circuit until he was too old to mount a pony. It was a life of travel and perpetual parties that he’d lived for the past several years—so why did he have a niggling sense of dissatisfaction?

  THE POOL definitely looked different to Ashley at eight o’clock in the morning than it had at the party the night before. The water was an aquamarine-blue flowing over a disappearing edge in the infinity-pool style. Palm trees abutted the hidden rim so it looked as if the pool flowed into a lush jungle setting.

  And it was totally empty.

  Ashley looked around. Well, at least there were plenty of lounge chairs to choose from. She laid her towel down and sat on the cushion while she considered what to do. Either Enric Bruguera would come to swim, or he wouldn’t. Ashley figured she’d look less conspicuous in the water, and besides, when else would she get the chance to swim in such a fantastic pool? She’d worn her sensible two-piece coral-red tankini, figuring a string bikini would negate her cover as a serious swimmer in the eyes of an Olympian.

  She dived in, laughing for sheer pleasure as she surfaced. The water was perfect, cool enough to refresh but not enough to chill. She turned in a quick flip and cut through the water. As long as she had the pool to herself, she could swim laps without fear of running into anyone.

  Back and forth she swam, alternating crawl with backstroke, breaststroke with butterfly. The last made her pant with exertion since she hadn’t been in her apartment complex’s pool in a couple of weeks. She surfaced at the pool edge with a gasp after her last butterfly lap.

  Someone handed her a towel, and she gratefully wiped off her face before thanking the pool attendant.

  It was Beck, sitting on his haunches. “You have good form, Ashley.” The glint in his eye told her that he wasn’t only talking about her swimming. He wore a lightweight white linen shirt and navy-blue swim trunks, his chest peeking out between the unbuttoned embroidered lapels. She inadvertently dropped her glance to the center seam of his trunks, which was right at h
er eye level. He certainly didn’t seem to lack in that area either.

  Her cheeks flamed and she pushed away from the poolside, gliding on her back to the middle.

  He shucked off his shirt, revealing what she had caressed last night. Holy cow, if he’d taken off his shirt then, she didn’t know what would have happened on that hard marble bench.

  If polo didn’t work out for Beck Emery, he could make his fortune as a men’s underwear model. His pecs were rock-hard from all that physical activity, and that six-pack looked as good as it had felt. He was a literal golden boy, the light covering of hair glinting off his perfectly tanned skin. His navel was an intriguing outie begging her tongue to play with it.

  He dived into the pool and surfaced next to her, his hair darkened to an amber-honey color, his ridiculously long eyelashes clumping together. “I’m glad I found you today.” He smoothed her hair off her forehead. “You didn’t even tell me your surname last night.”

  Ashley was surprised a cloud of steam didn’t rise from her skin. Her nipples tightened under her swimsuit top. “It’s Craig. And I’m glad to see you again, too.”

  He traced a finger across her cheekbone and down her neck. “Why did you run away?”

  Ashley was having a difficult time remembering why on earth she had run away from him. She was glad the water hid her trembling as he caressed the neckline of her suit. “I don’t usually make out with men two minutes after I meet them.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “If it makes you feel better, neither do I.”

  Exasperated, she splashed water into his face and swam away. He sputtered and came after her. Her blood pounded in her veins during their chase, knowing that he was hunting her for more than a little pool-time fun. Ashley squealed as he caught her ankle.

  “Gotcha, my little mermaid.” He slid his hand up her calf to the super-sensitive bend of her knee, his touch arousing instead of tickling. He dragged her close to him, the inside of her thigh rubbing the side of his trunks.

  “Now that you’ve caught me, what are you going to do with me?” She felt slightly safer teasing him, figuring he wouldn’t do anything in public.

  She figured wrong. He cupped her chin and kissed her. Her lips quickly opened under him, accepting his tongue as it slid along hers. He tasted minty and faintly of chlorine. She drank him in as if it had been years, not only half a day, since their last kiss. He was slickly persuasive with that wicked mouth of his, tempting her to lose her self-control in public once again.

  She dug her fingers into his shoulders and hooked her leg around his waist, bringing the cradle of her thighs smack dab against him. She gasped as his erection strained against the thin nylon fabric.

  Its heavy weight pushed right against her throbbing center. An involuntary moan escaped her, and her eyes flew open in shock. He stopped kissing her, his lids heavy with passion. So his whiskey-colored eyes did darken when he was aroused. She wondered how they would look when he came, his heavy body pinning hers as he pounded into her…she gasped again as the erotic image jolted her already-sensitized clitoris.

  “You can’t run away now.” His usually suave voice was rough. “You feel it—you feel me.” He pushed his erection against her and she swiveled her hips in an instinctual rhythm. He muffled a curse and pushed away from her. “I swear, if you keep looking at me like that, you and I are going to cause a scandal right here in the pool that will get our memberships revoked.”

  “I’m not a member.” It seemed the safest way to change the subject. “I’m a guest of Letitia Saavedra de Léon, but she had to visit a sick relative, so my guest pass expires today.”

  He nodded. “So that’s why I’d never seen you before. I would have remembered you. I would have asked your name, asked you to lunch. Asked you to come to my bed.” He added in a gritty tone, “Begged you if I had to.”

  Ashley swallowed hard. She wanted Beck Emery more than any man in a long time—probably ever. She’d put any kind of social life on the back burner for the past five years to build her career, which was currently at a standstill.

  Suddenly she was angry at her own ambition. She was twenty-seven years old and had cheated herself out of five years of fun for something that had literally gone up in smoke. Would the legendary Enric Bruguera even show his face? Maybe. Would he be her knight in elaborately jeweled armor? Doubtful.

  And when would a man like Beckett Emery come along again? Never.

  “You don’t have to beg.”

  His eyes flared with lust and he inhaled sharply. “Do you mean that?”

  “I do. But not here.” They were still alone but she heard women’s and children’s voices approaching from the changing rooms.

  “Of course not.” He leaned closer. “I intend to take my time with you.”

  “When?” she asked breathlessly.

  He looked at the Roman-numeral clock above the bar. “Damn. Not now. I have to meet my teammates for practice in fifteen minutes.” He swept his hair off his forehead. “Meet me at eleven o’clock. We can have lunch at the club restaurant and go for another swim at my place.”

  Ashley dived right in. “Can we have lunch at your place?”

  He laced his fingers through hers. “I don’t have much food at home.”

  “I’m not hungry for food.”

  “I think you know what I’m hungry for.” He yanked her close and gave her another burning kiss before turning her loose. “Tell Señora Saavedra de Léon that she has my thanks for bringing you to the club, but that you are my guest now. I’ll make arrangements with the concierge. Eat, swim, go to the spa, whatever you’d like—but be at the front desk at eleven or I’ll run through the club yelling your name until they call the cops to throw me out.”

  She couldn’t help giggling. When was the last time she giggled with a man? “I’ll be there.”

  “Good. And I mean what I said about using the facilities here—especially the spa. My family have been members here for forty years and I doubt any of us have had a spa day more than once. I don’t think we’ve gotten our money’s worth.” He grinned and swam backward as if reluctant to leave her.

  “If you’re sure…”

  “Absolutely.” He’d reached the opposite side and lifted himself out gracefully, water streaming down his shoulders into his trunks. The wet blue fabric outlined each tight buttock as if he were naked, and the newly arriving moms lusted after his ass as if it were a giant diamond solitaire.

  He turned and winked at her and her cheeks heated. She watched him until he disappeared into the changing room before returning to earth. Ignoring the mommy brigade’s interested stares, Ashley checked the pool for the stocky Barcelonan, but ol’ Enric was nowhere to be found. The clock told her lap-swim hour was over, and she couldn’t imagine he would want to swim in a pool full of screaming children.

  She climbed out and toweled off, the sun drying her suit quickly. She hadn’t planned on a lunch date, much less an afternoon of seduction with the sexiest man in South Florida.

  Fortunately she’d packed a sundress and some jewelry in her bag. She wasn’t about to go shopping in the club’s ultra-pricey boutiques on his tab, but he had encouraged her to use the spa. Could they do something with her hair and makeup? She wasn’t sure how much that would cost. She could always pay him back later if it cost too much. Ashley Craig was used to paying her own way.

  TO SAY Beck’s mind was not on polo practice was putting it mildly. His saddle was putting uncomfortable pressure on his frustrated groin and he kept missing shots that would have been easy for a beginner. Memories of Ashley were distracting him—her sweet smile, the glint in her blue eyes, her full red lips moaning as he pressed into her burning core…dammit, there went his cock again. He’d never ridden a horse while aroused and it wasn’t fun. Ashley riding him would be much more fun. He cursed and tried to concentrate.

  Diego’s smirks weren’t helping either, especially after Beck dropped his mallet, nearly braining his teammate’s pony in the pro
cess. Beck dismounted and pointed at Diego. “Not one word.”

  Diego held up his gloved hands in mock innocence. “If you want me to change ponies, all you have to do is ask. You do not have to give the poor creature a concussion.”

  Their other two teammates, who played third and fourth positions, laughed at Diego’s joke as they galloped from the backfield.

  “Eh, our poor Beck met a blond goddess last night and hasn’t been the same since.”

  Beck was remounting his pony, but Diego’s scarily apt statement made his boot slip from the stirrup. He landed heavily on the ground, making his teammates roar even louder.

  “Por Dios, amigo, stay off that horse before you get hurt and can’t perform for your new lady friend.”

  Beck flipped him a rude American gesture known worldwide, but decided Diego was right. Seducing Ashley while wearing a cast would make him an object of her pity, not her lust. And judging from their short interludes in the garden and the pool, they would have plenty of lust to burn off.

  5

  BECK FOUND himself pacing the lobby near the front desk. Sure, he’d left practice early, but that had only given him more time to wait until eleven o’clock. He’d hurried through his shower but had spent extra minutes on his shave, not wanting to scrape Ashley’s delicate skin. He checked his dark green polo shirt for wrinkles and discreetly made sure the fly of his khaki chinos was zipped.

  His wait was rewarded by the blond vision gliding toward him. She wore a buttery-yellow sundress with skinny little straps and a deep V between her breasts. God, he hoped it was one of those dresses where it was impossible to wear a bra. The skirt skimmed her hips and ended right below her knees. Three-inch sandals showed off her slim ankles.

  As she got closer, he could see that she had visited the spa; her hair was expertly fluffed out and her lips were the color of a juicy peach. Her skin shimmered as if it were dusted in gold. “You look fantastic.” He took her hand, not trusting himself to kiss her in public and be able to stop.