He grinned back at her. “How was the trip?”
She shrugged out of her suit jacket and folded it over the back of the sofa. “Exhausting. Exhilarating. Negotiations are fun but nerveracking, especially since it’s the draft. You don’t really know if a team is going to commit to a player or not, so everything you’re talking about has to be couched very carefully so you don’t blow it.”
He handed her a glass of wine and sat next to her on the sofa. “Who was the client?”
She arched a brow. “Blane McReynolds. Offensive lineman out of Indiana. Promising future and great talent. We’re pretty certain Tampa Bay is going to draft him. Why?”
“Just curious about which young hotshot you signed.”
She kicked her high heels off and propped her feet on the table in front of the sofa. “Honey, I’m always signing a hotshot or two. Have to keep the young blood rolling in for when the old timers aren’t any good to me anymore.”
“You’re so devoted to your clients.”
She batted her lashes. “Always. Anyway, we’re pretty secure about Tampa Bay, and they have the second pick in the draft. Their offensive line is shit, and they need to build with strong talent, especially at offensive tackle, which means they’re looking hard at Blane. He’s pretty thrilled about that, but you never know. Teams change their minds. Nothing’s for certain. The poor kid is a basket case. He’s worked his whole life for this.” She turned to him. “You remember what it’s like.”
“Yeah, I do. And you did a great job for me.”
Her lips lifted. “Thanks. I was practically a rookie myself back then.”
“Didn’t seem that way to me. You went in there balls to the wall and didn’t take no for an answer.”
She laughed. “I didn’t even know what I didn’t know back then. With you or with Mick. God, I was fearless.”
“You still are.”
She kept her gaze on his. “Thank you, Gavin. A little shot of confidence is welcome. I needed that.”
So maybe she had been gone for a reason. And maybe she wasn’t playing games with him. “You got a backup team for this kid?”
She grinned, and he could hear the excitement in her voice. “Yes. Two, in fact, are interested in Blane. Both with first-round picks, but they could go another direction, too.” She scrunched her shoulders, then took a long swallow of wine. “This stuff makes my head hurt.”
“Turn around.”
“Why?”
“I’ll rub some of the tension away.”
She gave him a wicked smile. “Now that sounds good.”
She turned and presented her back to him. He started off light, using his thumbs on the muscles, which were definitely hard as rock. His fingers kept slipping on her silk blouse.
“Take your blouse off so I can get to your skin.”
She pulled the blouse out of the waistband of her suit, then drew it over her head. Gavin sat back and admired the muscles of her back as she moved, the way the hairs on the back of her neck curled. He bent and pressed a kiss there.
“Mmmm, that might be more relaxing than the shoulder rub.”
“You say that now because I haven’t really started rubbing your shoulders yet. I’m a master at it.”
She gave him a look over her shoulder. “That experienced at it, are you?”
He brushed his lips across hers, then turned her head to face forward. “That good at it. Just relax and drop your head forward and let me perform my magic.”
She giggled but dipped her head toward her chest, and Gavin went to work, starting easy at first, then when her body became more pliant, he began to dig into the muscles. Elizabeth moaned, and he felt the muscles melt under his fingers.
“Oh, God, you are good at that. You must have women melting at your feet.”
He laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever massaged a woman before.”
She lifted her head and half turned. “Really? You’re lying.”
“No. I just pay attention to the trainers and what they do to me when my muscles tighten up. Figured it would work the same for you.”
“Huh. You surprise me, Gavin.”
“Yeah? In what way?”
She turned her back to him again and shrugged. “In a lot of ways.”
“Wanna give me a list?”
“No. Your ego is inflated enough.”
He pressed in on her muscles again, sliding his thumbs into the nape of her neck. “Now that hurts my feelings.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t.”
She laughed, then went quiet as he slid his fingers up into her hair, pulling the barrette and pins out and shaking it loose.
“Why don’t you wear your hair down?”
“It gets in my way. Up is more professional.”
He sifted his fingers through the softness of her hair, lifted the strands to his nose. She smelled like flowers. “Down is sexy.”
“I don’t need to be sexy to negotiate a contract.”
“Couldn’t hurt.”
She laughed. “I need to be taken seriously, Gavin.”
“Oh, come on, Elizabeth. You use your sexuality like a negotiating point.”