The Billionaire Heartbreaker (7 page)

The sound effect of a camera shutter invaded Reily's consciousness and she pulled away with a jerk. Several smart phones were pointed in their direction, each one of them snapping off shots of Travis Christensen's latest make-out sesh, no doubt.

Oh no!
Reily tried to calm her racing heart. The damned thing felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. Those pictures would be scattered all over social media at the speed of light. She'd been an idiot to let herself go like that! Forget damage control. If Bob Spencer got wind of any of this, Reily would be as good as fired. So long, vacation. See you later, designer shoes. Nice knowin' ya, apartment! Not even McDonald's would hire her once the Stars organization was through with her.

“Oh my God.” Reily tried to make a run for it, but Travis kept his cool. He pulled her against him once again and resumed their dance. “Travis!” she seethed. “Let me
go
!”

“Running is only going to give them more to talk about,” Travis replied. He was cool under pressure. Completely unflappable.

“Travis, this is a
disaster
.” Reily couldn't even fake calm. “It's going to be all over the internet. I'm going to lose my contract over this. I need to get Bob Spencer on the phone and do damage control before he sees the pics for himself.”

Travis's jaw squared and his eyes narrowed as he looked down on her. “A disaster?”

Reily didn't miss the tension in his voice. He couldn't possibly be hurt by what she'd said. Not the self-proclaimed playboy who slept with a new girl every week. The furrow in his brow told another story, though.

“You know what I mean. It's my job to help clean up your image and I single-handedly sent it to hell in a handbasket. Travis … Why did you do that?”

She searched his gaze, hoping to find some proof of the truth in his response. His grip on her waist didn't slacken and he didn't take his eyes from hers when he said, “Because I wanted to. I've wanted to kiss you since the day I walked into your office.”

“Don't say things like that,” Reily replied.

Travis let out a long sigh. “Why the hell not?”

“Because you don't mean it.”

His gaze further darkened and Reily's stomach tied into a knot. He stopped the swaying steps that led her in the dance. “I think it's time to call it a night.”

For once, Reily was inclined to agree with him.

“I need a second.” She couldn't believe she wasn't sprinting for the exit. Travis was right though, that wouldn't help either of them. “I need to think of what to say to anyone who snapped a pic. I need damage control.”

“I'll take care of it.”

“Travis, I don't think that's a good idea. Just let me—”

“I'll take care of it.”

The commanding tenor of his words froze Reily in place. She gave a quick nod of her head and he let her go, but not before he took her hand in his.

Curious stares followed their progress through the ballroom and Reily wished that the floor would open up and swallow her whole. If any of the media there did their due diligence, they'd find out that she'd been hired to improve Travis's public image. She might as well pack up her office now. By tomorrow morning, her reputation wouldn't be worth a dime.

“Travis, can I get your date's name?”

Reily turned toward the sound of the E! correspondent's voice and swallowed down a groan. Of course she'd be front and center for their ill-timed photo op. She didn't miss the sneer in the woman's voice, either. As though Travis was hard-core slumming it to be dragging someone like Reily home for the night.

“Aw, come on now,” Travis replied in a teasing tone. “You guys love a good mystery woman story. Cut me a little slack and let me keep this beauty to myself before you scare her off with all of the attention.”

The correspondent's eyes narrowed and she gave Travis a wry grin. “All right. But you owe me.”

“The next time I hit the strip clubs, you'll be the first to know.”

Her throaty laugh echoed in Reily's ears as Travis tucked her close to his large frame, his head bent close to hers as though in deep conversation as he led the way out of the ballroom.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Reily knew that Travis hadn't truly bought her any anonymity, but he'd definitely gotten her a reprieve. At least now she'd have until morning to work on a passable excuse for her behavior when she had to face the music and call Bob Spencer. What a mess. Reily couldn't believe it, but for the first time in her life, she was going to have to use her talent as a spin doctor to help herself.

*   *   *

Reily acted as though she'd rather be run over by a bus than be seen with Travis. What a kick to the nuts. He'd brushed off his annoyance that Bob and everyone with the Stars thought he was a brainless jock who didn't have the good sense to know how to put out his own fires or keep his dick in his pants. And he'd tolerated the mandate that he be shackled with an image consultant because from the moment he'd laid eyes on Reily, he'd wanted her. But knowing that she didn't want him back was a blow that no amount of damage control could smooth over.

They left the Omni in silence. Travis didn't wait for their driver; he opened the door for Reily and climbed in after her. He closed the door behind him and leaned his head back on the headrest as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He should have stayed home with Carter, Tess, and the girls. What a shitty night….

“You don't need an image consultant,” Tess said so quietly that he almost didn't hear her. “Or a PR person, or a handler, or anything else.” He looked up to face her and made out the furrow of her brow and the stern set of her delicate jaw in the glow of the car's dash. “Why let Bob bother with hiring me? With doing any of this, when you can manage yourself without an ounce of trouble on your own?”

Travis let out a gust of breath. “Because I don't give a shit what people of think of me. I'm a damn good goalie. Maybe even the best in the NHL. And the people who matter know who I am and what I'm about. I don't like to play games, Reily. I never have.”

She let out a soft snort that he almost didn't catch. “You could have fooled me.”

Travis's temper surfaced. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, Travis. You and I both know that what you did in there was meant for show. I doubt it would've happened if you hadn't had an audience.”

Travis's gut churned. Indignation flared in his chest and burned a path up his throat. She thought he'd kissed her to get a little fucking
attention
? “I think we've already established that I'm pretty capable of getting attention—and a date—without your help.”

Reily flinched as though she'd been stung. Goddamn it. If he could've, Travis would've taken back the hurtful words, but he'd been stung as well. That she thought he was nothing more than a superficial man-whore wasn't doing much for his current temperament.

“No,” Reily replied. “I suppose you don't.”

She turned away from him and stared out the window. Travis settled back in his seat and raked his fingers through his hair. Why in the hell was she so damned concerned with what everyone else thought, anyway? So what if people saw him kiss her? He'd do it again, given the chance. He was proud to kiss her, to hold her against his body smack dab in the middle of a crowded dance floor. It was Reily who seemed too embarrassed to have anyone see them together.

The alert on his phone went off and Travis dug it out of his pocket to see a text from Carter:

You do realize that “lip warmer” isn't in your handler's job description, right?

Great.
Travis cursed under his breath. It sure as hell hadn't taken long for the pics of him and Reily to hit social media. He didn't respond to Carter's text—no use in fueling that fire—and checked Twitter instead. He'd been tagged in several mentions and each and every one was attached to an image of him and Reily together on the dance floor.

He couldn't even be pissed off about it. The sensation of her petal soft lips and supple curves was ingrained in his memory. Her breath had been warm against his mouth, and her taste sweetened by the champagne she'd sipped just moments before. His body responded to his thoughts, and Travis shifted to ease the pressure of his growing erection against the fly of his slacks. Reily thought he'd taken her in his arms and kissed her for shock value. Hell, it had been one of the first times in his life that he
hadn't
done something for show.

That moment between them had been for him and Reily alone.

“Reily—” Travis snapped his jaw shut. He had no idea what to say to her. How to placate her. Shit, did he even want to make her feel better about what had happened? A great kiss shouldn't have to be followed up with a consolation. Jesus. This was totally fucked up.

“Don't, Travis.” She didn't turn to face him, simply kept her gaze focused out the window. “You don't have to explain or apologize. I'll call Bob in the morning and try to smooth things over. We don't even have to talk about it ever again.”

“You know what? I'm getting pretty damned sick of people trying to manage me. You included.”

She whipped around to face him and Travis forced the smug expression from his face. He knew how to get a rise out of Riley, and he was more than happy to have stirred her temper. Her blue eyes sparked with indignant fire, making her all the more alluring. Did she not realize how beautiful she was? How absolutely desirable? God, it took a sheer act of will not to tackle her in the seat and strip her bare.

“That's right,” he said in an effort to further goad her. “You've been micromanaging me for days and I'm over it. You said that I know how to handle myself, so quit trying to feed words into my mouth. You obviously have no idea why I did what I did.”

“It doesn't matter,” she replied. Her tone dropped an octave and her chin dipped.

“The hell it doesn't.”

“It's my fault,” Reily continued. “I didn't use good judgment and I let myself make a mistake. I'm the one who should be apologizing. It's my job to make you look good and I didn't come through.”

Good lord, the woman was infuriating!

“A mistake, huh.” The word burned in Travis's gut like a cinder. “That's what you thought that was?”

“We work together.” The excuse held as much water as a rusted out bucket.

“So what?” Travis did nothing to hide the annoyance seeping into his tone.

Reily turned away again and Travis swallowed down a growl of frustration. The car came to a stop and he looked out the window, only now paying any attention to their surroundings. A row of neat little townhouses stared back at him, their illuminated windows so much like the eyes of the public that seemed never to wander too far from him. Travis took a deep breath and held it in his lungs until they ached. The driver got out to open the door for Reily. She was going to leave? Just like that? Without resolving a damned thing?

“I'll let you know how it goes with Bob tomorrow,” she said before climbing out of the car. “Good night, Travis.”

The door closed, shutting Travis in a bubble of silence. He watched as she hustled in front of the headlights and then sprinted up the sidewalk to her townhouse. The driver climbed back inside and Travis punched his fist down into the plush leather upholstery beneath him.

“Stop,” he said before the driver could pull out into the street. He reached for the door handle, his jaw clenched tight. He'd be damned if he let Reily walk away like that. Not when there was so much more that needed to be said.

Seven

Reily let her back collapse against the door as she shut it behind her. Her breath came in quick pants and her heart thrummed wildly in her chest. It had taken every bit of composure she had not to throw herself at Travis in the car. To beg him to do whatever wicked thing to her that he wanted as long as he put his mouth on hers one more time.

Pathetic.

Reily was angrier with herself than she was with Travis. The man was drop-dead gorgeous with the body of a god. He was intelligent, talented, wealthy, and successful. And the media seemed more impressed with his libido than Travis did himself. He ate up every ounce of it, too. Pushed the boundaries as far as he could manage. Which is what he'd done when he kissed her tonight.

She brushed her fingertips along her bottom lip. Her skin still tingled there and the memory of his mouth on hers sent a thrill through her bloodstream. Reily knew that the moment hadn't meant anything to Travis. She was simply a way for him to rattle the chains of his perceived bondage. It didn't mean anything to her, either. It
didn't
. Travis's gentle kisses hadn't made her feel more important, more beautiful, more worthy of his attention. It hadn't made her feel special.

Oh, who in the hell are you kidding?

Behind her, the sound of someone pounding on the door sent her heart up into her throat and Reily jumped away as though someone might bash the damn thing down and charge into her living room. She choked down the startled shout that built in her throat and leaned forward to look through the peephole as though there was any doubt who was on the other side.

Travis stood on her front stoop, one palm braced on the door jamb while the other slammed against her door. His head was bowed so Reily couldn't see his expression, but from the way he repeatedly smacked her door, she had a feeling he was a little pissed.

Why? What did he have to be angry about? It's not like she'd used him tonight. Made him feel as though no one in the world mattered but him, kissed him for all she was worth in an effort to sink his career as well as his image.

“Go home, Travis!” she called through the planks. “I'll call you tomorrow.”