“Olivia,” he said, acknowledging the PR rep whom the team owner had hired after Luke’s embezzlement scandal had rocked the headlines. “I didn’t expect you tonight. I thought a charity event would have been good enough press without your help.” His hand stayed possessively at Katie’s back. Olivia was a money-grubbing fame mogul, like so many women he’d encountered in the past ten years. “Katie. This is Olivia Cantu. She’s—”
“The Rainmaker,” Olivia supplied, her normal, big ego in play. An ego that matched her ample cleavage, exposed within a millimeter of being unprofessional. “I’m the one who spins all the stories into jewels rather than media-shattering craters.” She cast Katie a look down her nose. “Would you be my latest crater?”
“I’d be Katie Lyons,” Katie said, taking the impolite comment impressively in stride. “Luke’s date…and I’d prefer to be neither a jewel nor a crater, thus why I rarely attend these events.”
Olivia frowned. “You make that sound like you’ve been around awhile.” Her gaze shifted suspiciously toward Luke.
“She’s been my jewel in hiding for some time now, Olivia. I didn’t want her exposed to the nightmare of my bad press.”
Olivia gave Katie a judgmental up-and-down inspection that oozed jealousy before fixing her attention on Luke again, speaking as if Katie were not present.
“The press’ll be talking about this new date of yours,” she said, flipping a long lock of blond hair out of her heavily made-up eye. “After that disaster with your last girlfriend, I need something to work with here.” She glanced at Katie. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry. “But we don’t need another catastrophe. I need to know who I’m dealing with.”
Instantly, Luke felt the subtle stiffening of Katie’s back. Olivia was supposed to stop problems from occurring, not create them. And damn it, he reveled in the competitiveness of his sport on the field, but off the field, he was sick of the jealousy and competition. The game wasn’t about the fancy team jet, or who had the most groupies, or who drove what car, yet plenty of people made it about all those things and more.
In that moment, Luke respected and appreciated how untouched Katie was by all of the bullshit around him, despite having rubbed elbows with plenty of celebrities in her past.
Protectiveness for Katie rose inside him, and yes, a selfish need to keep her untouched that he didn’t deny. “There is absolutely nothing about Katie to worry about, Olivia,” he said through clenched teeth. “For once, try simply answering with ‘no comment,’ or how about this? Tell them I’m crazy hot for Katie. Take that to the press and let them roll with it. Or I’ll do it myself.” He grabbed Katie’s hand and started walking.
Olivia and Katie both gasped. Olivia stepped in front of them. “Luke—don’t go saying crazy things to the press just to spite me,” Olivia said. “Wilcox won’t be happy about that.” Wilcox being the team owner.
He arched a brow. “Why would I have any reason to spite you, Olivia?”
She opened her mouth and shut it. Then, “Just watch what you say.”
He glanced at Katie. “Let’s go find a table.” They headed down a narrow, carpeted hallway, and Luke cast Katie a furtive glance. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ve dealt with my share of Olivias,” she assured him, keeping pace with him. “And for the record, I thought of a good five or ten biting remarks for that woman and said not a one of them, but you might have gone a bit far with the crazy hot thing.”
He stopped, turned to her. “It was the truth.”
Surprise washed over her face and she visibly paled. “Luke. No. Stop. Don’t you understand? I can’t protect you when you’re making me…”
“Crazy hot?”
“Crazy,” she corrected quickly. “You’re making me crazy.”
His lips tilted upward. “Then I’ll get to work on the wild-and-hot part.”
A flash of light suddenly flickered around them, the sound of voices as reporters swarmed them. Katie quipped, “I’d say the ‘hot’ is safely on ice considering there’s an audience.”
He winked. “Don’t count on it, sweetheart.”
***
AN HOUR LATER, Luke had finished a heart-wrenching speech that told Katie there was so much more to him than she’d imagined possible. And while he was signing autographs, she worked the crowd, looking for suspects.
At present she danced with Chris Allen, a thirty-something, money-grubbing sports agent whom she’d known for years. Listening to him rattle his own chain and tell her how much Luke Winter and Joey Martin needed him—no matter how many times she assured him she had no influence over either—was pure torture. Good grief, she was ready to leave. The party and this world.
She’d forgotten how easily every breath she drew had been about Joey when she’d been with him. And how much Joey had eaten that up, too. He’d loved being the center of the universe. And she’d done nothing but feed his ego, and his desires. She’d come to hate Joey, though she hadn’t realized it until months after their separation, when she’d finally rediscovered herself.