The List

“Kane Steele,” Barbie muttered to herself. “The Steeles of Steele Global?”


I smiled as the waiter came back with her water.

“I’d like to order a club sandwich and fries,” I told him and turned to Eliana. “How about you? You need more than that rabbit food to keep your fabulous shape. You know how I hate skeletal women. Portobello burger and sweet potato fries sound good?”

Tears gleamed in her eyes, but only for a moment because she blinked them away and melted closer to me, melding us together.

I kissed her hair, breathing in the scent of citrus and vanilla. Yes. I wanted to know her better.

I wanted to know why she fed homeless dogs.

I wanted to know what was up with her mother.

I wanted to know what her skin felt like.

But more than anything, I wanted to take her to a damn gala and show her what it was like to be treated like she deserved.

“So, about that spa day. Want to stick to your mother’s plans?”

She beamed at me. “Sure. And no hair color change, I promise.”

I stared down at her, into those clear blue eyes over that cutely freckled nose. I wanted to kiss her. Needed to kiss her. So I did.

I’d kissed her when I first sat down, but that was mostly to mask her surprise. This kiss was different, soft and wet, but it created some electrical charge inside of me that zinged through my system, landing in my balls. I grew hard. From one damn kiss, I was hard as a rock in athletic shorts. Thank God, I was also wearing compression shorts beneath them, or I’d have a tent as big as the Empire State Building for all to see.

Barbie cleared her throat, and I ignored her, turning more fully toward Eliana, changing the angle of how our lips met. She tasted like tomato and vinaigrette, and something uniquely her. Eliana’s hand crept up my arm, her fingers digging into my shoulder. She whimpered, and the vibration of the sound went to my toes.

Stop.

I needed to stop this shit now, or I’d fuck her in this booth, no matter how many rounds I’d had with the porn queen last night.

Shit.

That thought tossed cold water on my arousal, and I pulled away, ashamed of myself.

I’d fucked three different women this week, and here I was, molesting the mouth of this innocent girl. Well, she might not be virgin innocent, the hand on my upper thigh was evidence that she wasn’t pure in that sense of the word.

But she was pure in other ways.

Even if she was the daughter of Cruella, who was staring daggers at us both.

I glanced back down to the lush curve of her mouth, remembering her sexy ass and how it filled out those skinny jeans so perfectly. The clear eyes, sweet smile. Generous and giving spirit.

Baseball.

I needed to be focused on baseball, and all I could think about was taking Eliana around the bases at lightning speed, scoring a home run as quickly as possible.

She deserved better than that. Better than me.

But I’d intruded in her life and was now taking her to the children’s hospital gala. I’d be the perfect gentleman as her escort, protect her from her mother’s machinations and this Winston asshole who might get a punch in the face if I ran into him.

We could “break up” afterward. She would then go her way, and I’d go mine.

Yes, that was the plan.

But even as I thought it, a restless, edgy energy burned through me. The sort of tension I was familiar with. With Eliana, I needed to cage it. She wasn’t that type of girl, of that I was certain.

I inhaled her scent again and caught the vanilla undertones. Yes, innocence and vanilla. That wasn’t how I enjoyed being with a woman.

Sweet wasn’t on my menu.

Sweet girls had expectations.

I couldn’t — wouldn’t — offer anything more than a night of hard, fast sex. I went to bed with women who knew the score. Women I could make beg, bring a blush of pink to their flesh. Women who would surrender to my every desire because they already knew what those desires were.

Besides, I needed to fucking focus. I had a damn losing streak to break. An entire city counting on my brains working at first base and my brawn causing a little white ball to fly over a fence.

Plus, I wasn’t around a lot. I played 162 games a season, didn’t have more than a couple days off from spring through fall and those days were used mainly for travel.

And I couldn’t fuck this up. I wanted a World Series win under my belt before I tucked tail and went back to California to step into the family business. Which was another problem. I didn’t need to be in any relationship that I couldn’t walk away from.

Dammit. Why was I protesting so much?

Eliana’s hand squeezed my thigh. “Are you okay?”

Was I?

I felt lost suddenly, like my internal compass was spinning and kept only wanting to point at one destination. Her.

I was grateful when the waiter came with my club and smiled when Eliana dug into her Portobello, eating the sweet potato fries with great relish under the watchful eyes of her mother. I was even more grateful when it clearly became time to end this mockery of a meal.

Barbie looked at her phone, which must have been the cue to leave because Eliana reached for her bag.

“Well, Kane, it was very nice to meet you.” I wanted to snarl as she extended her hand in a limp-wristed shake. She looked at her daughter. “Perhaps we can take care of the other purpose of our tête-à-tête later. The mail, perhaps?”

Their tête-à-what?

Eliana stiffened and thrust her hand into her bag, pulling out a matching Prada wallet and turning to the checkbook section, yanking a pen from its holder. People still wrote checks? “No, let’s take care of that now.”

As I watched, she scribbled out “One thousand dollars.” She noted “September rent” on the bottom and signed her name with a flourish before ripping it off and sliding the small slip of paper across the table, drawing her hand back quickly as Alize reached for it, looking embarrassed.

Eliana has to pay rent to her mother?

“Thank you, darling.” She cleared her throat. “So, I shall see you at the gala? Remember your appointments and be sure to pick out your gown with plenty of time for alterations.”

I was still stunned by what I’d witnessed. “Will Eliana be paying for those things or is all of this a gift from you?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

Barbie blushed and took a sip of her water. “No, no. This is a gift for my darling Eliana. I’ll have Carlos send you an email with instructions on how to prep for the waxing and other treatments.”

Eliana opened her mouth then snapped it shut, crossing her arms over her chest in a look of pure mutiny.

I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “Brazilian? Excellent choice.”

She blushed a bright adorable red, but a smile played at the corners of her mouth, easing the tension.

I realized I enjoyed making her blush. I enjoyed making her laugh.

I’d do that through the gala, then… let her go.