Playing the Game Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Stephanie Queen
His mouth was open but it took him a few seconds to actually speak.
“Depends on what?” he finally asked. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped.
“On what you mean by ‘the show,’ of course.” She sharpened her smile. She assumed he’d be asking questions about her late husband and her alleged fortune hunting like all the media lately. Red-faced, he gave a nervous, weak laugh and opened his mouth, but he was saved from having to continue when Barry’s deep voice interrupted them. Roxanne turned around.
“Trying to make time with the lady, Kevin? Let me give you some advice: Give it up.”
She was about to speak until she looked up and met his intense blazing eyes.
She felt vulnerable, standing there before Barry. She wondered what he thought of her; if he thought she was some kind of Jezebel, or if he knew the truth—that she was a widow. Roxanne shook her head to clear her thoughts. She had to stop this drifting. She must grab hold of life; grab hold of the present.
She grabbed hold of Barry Dennis instead.
Putting her arm through his, she transferred her attentions completely from the baffled reporter to Barry.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you…” She trailed the sentence off with the suggestion that what would follow was for his ears only. Kevin Moroni got the hint. He excused himself and left in a rush. Roxanne laughed with a shake of her head. There went another man with a terrible first impression of her. If she kept it up, she would certainly never have to worry about getting involved with any man—at least not any decent or sane man.
“Did I scare him or did you?” Barry looked down into her eyes and asked her. Her arm was still hooked through his and he didn’t seem to mind so she led him toward the door.
“It doesn’t matter. I think he was up to no good.”
“Where are we going?” He stopped her when they got to the coatroom.
She responded with a lift of her brow. Barry Dennis didn’t need to be hit over the head to get the point. The quick intake of his breath and the slight quirk of his mouth told her that he understood exactly what she had in mind.
“First I’d like an answer.” He withdrew himself from her grasp and leaned back against the wall with his arms folded, looking for all the world like he’d wait till doomsday for an answer, and like he half expected he may well have to wait.
“To what?” Roxanne stood squarely in front of him, close but not touching, with her own arms folded and her feet spread apart.
“You know. But I’ll spell it out for you, seeing that you like to play games so much. Why did you let me think you were married?”
They stood leveling smoldering stares at each other. Roxanne’s pulse picked up and her blood felt like flames running through her veins. She couldn’t remember the last time a man made her feel this way.
“No reason. Except maybe I thought I should try and stay out of trouble ever since that night the police found my husband dead and everyone but them has accused me of murdering him. Does that answer your question?” She offered him a satisfied smile while he mulled over her answer.
“Not exactly, but it’ll do. Your place or mine?” He lifted himself from against the wall and reached one arm out around to the small of her back, his fingertips skimming over her bottom.
It was her turn to be surprised, but only for a moment and then she laughed and let him guide her toward the front door. “Your place. But first I have to take care of a few last minute details with Laura,” Roxanne said, excusing herself from Barry. When she found Laura they went to speak to the manager and sign off on some invoices.
“Don’t worry about a thing, Laura. Everything has gone very smoothly. People will be leaving in a short while. You can handle the rest of the evening. Harry is here.” Roxanne turned to leave. Laura and her boss Harry could handle the rest of the night.
“What about your resolve to stay away from men? I
“Depends on what?” he finally asked. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped.
“On what you mean by ‘the show,’ of course.” She sharpened her smile. She assumed he’d be asking questions about her late husband and her alleged fortune hunting like all the media lately. Red-faced, he gave a nervous, weak laugh and opened his mouth, but he was saved from having to continue when Barry’s deep voice interrupted them. Roxanne turned around.
“Trying to make time with the lady, Kevin? Let me give you some advice: Give it up.”
She was about to speak until she looked up and met his intense blazing eyes.
She felt vulnerable, standing there before Barry. She wondered what he thought of her; if he thought she was some kind of Jezebel, or if he knew the truth—that she was a widow. Roxanne shook her head to clear her thoughts. She had to stop this drifting. She must grab hold of life; grab hold of the present.
She grabbed hold of Barry Dennis instead.
Putting her arm through his, she transferred her attentions completely from the baffled reporter to Barry.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you…” She trailed the sentence off with the suggestion that what would follow was for his ears only. Kevin Moroni got the hint. He excused himself and left in a rush. Roxanne laughed with a shake of her head. There went another man with a terrible first impression of her. If she kept it up, she would certainly never have to worry about getting involved with any man—at least not any decent or sane man.
“Did I scare him or did you?” Barry looked down into her eyes and asked her. Her arm was still hooked through his and he didn’t seem to mind so she led him toward the door.
“It doesn’t matter. I think he was up to no good.”
“Where are we going?” He stopped her when they got to the coatroom.
She responded with a lift of her brow. Barry Dennis didn’t need to be hit over the head to get the point. The quick intake of his breath and the slight quirk of his mouth told her that he understood exactly what she had in mind.
“First I’d like an answer.” He withdrew himself from her grasp and leaned back against the wall with his arms folded, looking for all the world like he’d wait till doomsday for an answer, and like he half expected he may well have to wait.
“To what?” Roxanne stood squarely in front of him, close but not touching, with her own arms folded and her feet spread apart.
“You know. But I’ll spell it out for you, seeing that you like to play games so much. Why did you let me think you were married?”
They stood leveling smoldering stares at each other. Roxanne’s pulse picked up and her blood felt like flames running through her veins. She couldn’t remember the last time a man made her feel this way.
“No reason. Except maybe I thought I should try and stay out of trouble ever since that night the police found my husband dead and everyone but them has accused me of murdering him. Does that answer your question?” She offered him a satisfied smile while he mulled over her answer.
“Not exactly, but it’ll do. Your place or mine?” He lifted himself from against the wall and reached one arm out around to the small of her back, his fingertips skimming over her bottom.
It was her turn to be surprised, but only for a moment and then she laughed and let him guide her toward the front door. “Your place. But first I have to take care of a few last minute details with Laura,” Roxanne said, excusing herself from Barry. When she found Laura they went to speak to the manager and sign off on some invoices.
“Don’t worry about a thing, Laura. Everything has gone very smoothly. People will be leaving in a short while. You can handle the rest of the evening. Harry is here.” Roxanne turned to leave. Laura and her boss Harry could handle the rest of the night.
“What about your resolve to stay away from men? I