Games of the Heart. Pamela Yaye

smirk told her he didn’t. “It’s all good, Sage.” He winked. “I do it too sometimes.”

      The kitchen door swung open. When Marshall spotted Khari, his entire face came alive. “Khari, you’re home. How was study group?”

      “All right, I guess. I’m starting to get the hang of this Shakespeare stuff.”

      “Did you get back your physics test?”

      Wearing a sheepish expression, he scratched the side of his neck. “I got a B minus, but it wasn’t my fault. Mr. Diefendorf wouldn’t give me extra time.”

      “Khari, if you’re going to get into Harvard, you have to bring your grades way up.”

      “I don’t want to go to Harvard, Dad. I’m going to play in the NBA. Coach says I’ve got what it takes to make it all the way.”

      “No, you’re going to med school.” His voice was firm. “If you get your degree and decide you still want to play professional basketball, that’s fine, but at least you will have something to fall back on if things don’t work out.”

      “I don’t know about all that. I ain’t—”

      “Pardon me?” Marshall’s words came out in a stern rebuke, not a question.

      Khari stared down at his sneakers. “I’m not thinking about medical school right now, Dad. I just want to pass English Lit and graduate with my friends.”

      Marshall opened his mouth, but when he spotted the woman from World Mission standing by the fireplace, watching them intently, he swallowed his words. “We’ll talk about this later. I’ll be up in a few minutes to help you with your homework.”

      Khari continued upstairs.

      “I’m sorry about that. I almost forgot you were here,” he confessed, handing her a glass of water. “Here you go.”

      “Thanks.” Sage took the drink from his outstretched hand and inadvertently grazed his fingers. Her heart pulsed with desire. Their connection was intense, and when he smiled at her, she knew he had felt it too. Underestimating the power of his touch, she stepped back to create more breathing room. “He seems like a good kid. And tall too!”

      Marshall chuckled. “I hear that at least fifty times a day.”

      “I bet. He must take after you.”

      Sensing she had ventured into troubled waters, Sage adjusted her cardigan and slipped back into character. Returning to the couch, she picked up her clipboard and retrieved a World Mission brochure. “Now, if you’ll just fill out your personal information on this sponsorship form, I can be on my way.”

      “There’s no rush,” he told her, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Can I interest you in something to eat? A muffin, some chocolate chip cookies, maybe? They’re homemade.”

      His endearing half smile and the soft hue of his voice warmed every square inch of her body. I wonder what it would feel like to have those big, strong hands on my—Sage shook the thought from her mind. She tried to focus on something—anything but his toned arms and that broad chest—but her internal wiring was on the blink. Sage inhaled. There was something in the air. It was profound, crippling, more devastating than a tropical storm, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d blow her assignment on the first day. “That’s very kind of you, but no thanks.”

      “It’s going to take me a few minutes to fill this out.” He uncapped the pen, but she remained the focus of his gaze. “I hope I’m not keeping you from anything.”

      “Not at all.” Pleased that she’d regained control, she stood patiently, determined not to be affected by his scent, his dimples or his calming vibe. For some reason, his buttoned-up persona and commanding presence was a serious turn-on. One she hadn’t expected. Overwhelmed by the silence, and wanting to keep the mood light, she said, “It’s been a busy day, but as long as I get home in time for 24, I’m good!”

      “That show’s amazing. It’s in its seventh season, but I’ve never missed an episode.”

      “Me too!” she gushed. “The writing is great, the plot is tight and the characters are hot, especially Jack Bauer. Ummm…”

      Marshall chuckled. “You’re too cute to be with such a rebellious hothead. Not to mention he’s almost twice your age.”

      Sage sequestered a smile. So he thinks I’m cute. No doubt, the clean face, casual clothes and curly hair gave her a more youthful look; but just how young did he think she was? His genial, if-only-you-were-older expression told Sage everything she needed to know. Marshall Grant thought she was jailbait.

      “All my guy friends go gaga over Elisa Cuthbert, and I bet you do too.”

      “She’s not my type. I prefer a more sophisticated woman.”

      Their eyes held for a beat too long. Standing there, looking large and in-charge in his black-on-black ensemble, Sage wondered what it would be like to kiss the attractive single father. Her breathing sped up as her body slowly became infected with lust. I must be really desperate to be fantasizing about kissing this small-town guy. Unable to reel in her emotions, she stared into his soft, luminous eyes. The last time she’d had sex, platform shoes were still in style, so being in close quarters with a dark, chocolate hunk was more than Sage could stand. Basking in the light of his smile, Sage licked her lips, and settled her nerves with a deep breath.

      They studied each other for a long, quiet moment. Marshall had a presence about him, something fierce and compelling that she wouldn’t be able to withstand much longer. The man was Denzel Washington in Training Day—cool and deliciously sexy. Her mission was in trouble and it was only the day one. Damn!

      “Stay awhile. At least long enough for me to pick your brain about the season premiere.” He hadn’t lowered his voice, but she inched closer. “Were you as shocked as I was when Schector was killed?”

      Sage had known Marshall all of five minutes, but when he gestured for her to take a seat, she did, and then chatted animatedly about her favorite TV show. Marshall was a deep thinker, who appealed to her on strictly an intellectual level. Or at least, that’s what she told herself every time her gaze strayed from his face to his chest.

      “Looks like you’re almost done,” she said, watching him scrawl his signature at the bottom of the form. “World Mission appreciates your generosity, Mr. Grant. You’re going to help so many needy children.”

      “I told you, none of that ‘Mr. Grant’ stuff. Call me Marshall.”

      For a moment, she couldn’t speak. Had he just given her the look, or was it just a figment of her imagination? With her goal front and center in her mind, she stuffed the sponsorship form in her purse and thanked Marshall for his time. “I should get going.”

      “I know this is going to sound strange, but I just have to ask. Have we met before?” The words shot out of his mouth, pinning her to the couch. “I never forget a face, but for the life of me, I can’t seem to place you. Maybe it’s the glasses. Do you wear contacts, as well?”

      “Um, no, I…” Her voice stalled. Nothing came out but a pathetic squeak. Lowering her eyes, she tugged at her black thermal cap. She’d overstayed her welcome and now Marshall was hot on her trail. “I really have to run.” Scrambling to her feet, she snatched up her purse and made a break for it. But Marshall met her in the middle of the living room, looking amused and becoming more handsome by the second.

      “I’ll show you out.” Laying a hand on her back, he gestured toward the short, narrow hallway that led to the foyer. Sage felt like she was walking on a trampoline. Her legs were quivering and she worried she might trip over her feet. It was hard staying calm with Marshall at her side, watching her every move.

      “Be safe,” he cautioned, unlocking the door. “And next time you’re in the neighborhood, be sure to stop by for a drink. We can talk more about trying to save the world.”