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  “My parents stay here whenever they come to New York,” Phillip explained. “A few times some of the guys on the team stay over when they don’t want to travel back to Long Island, Westchester or Jersey.”

  Seneca smiled when she saw the Bulgari bath amenities. The hotel offered the best of the best. “How often do your parents visit you?”

  “They try to make it a couple of times during the season. I get to see them whenever we play on the West Coast, and of course during off-season.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  Phillip met her eyes, trying to read the expression in their mysterious depths. Had he detected a hint of regret in her voice? That she hadn’t wanted him to leave? “I have a standby reservation for Monday,” he lied smoothly.

  He’d had a reservation to fly to the West Coast earlier that morning, but with Booth summoning him to attend the dinner party he’d had to change it to Monday morning. Now that he’d met Seneca he didn’t want to leave New York. For her, he was willing to delay his return to L.A. up to a week. A week was more than enough time to ascertain whether he’d want to hook up with her for more than just a sexual encounter.

  “That all depends upon you,” he said in a deceptively quiet tone.

  “Me?”

  He smiled. “You have to know by now that I like you.”

  “You like me, hoping I’ll agree to go to bed with you. Forget it,” Seneca said, not giving him the chance to refute her. “I don’t drink, do drugs, nor do I sleep with men.”

  Crossing muscular arms over his chest, Phillip angled his head. “Who do you do sleep with—women?”

  Seneca’s right hand swung up an arc, but before her palm could connect she found her wrist caught between fingers that tightened like iron manacles. “You sonofabitch!” she spat out. “Just because I haven’t shown you my crotch you think I prefer women?”

  Phillip glared at Seneca. Not only did she have a wicked tongue but also a wicked temper. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

  “No, Phillip, you’ve got it wrong. I should’ve never come here with you.” She tried extricating her hand. “If you bruise me I’ll sue the hell out of you!”

  He loosened his grip. “I’ll let you go if you promise not to try and hit me again.”

  Some of the fight went out of Seneca as the light went out behind her eyes, successfully concealing her innermost feelings from the man staring so intently at her. The incident in the hotel lobby continued to nag at her. People had reached for their cameras and camera phones not because of her but Phillip.

  She was willing to do whatever it took to become a successful runway model and if she were to be photographed it was to further her own career, not because she’d been seen with basketball phenom Phillip Kingston.

  Exhaling audibly, her eyelids fluttering, she nodded. “I promise.” He dropped her hand. “And for your information, I don’t sleep with women.”

  The smile spreading across Phillip’s handsome features was mesmerizing. “That’s good, because if you did then it would make it impossible for me to react naturally whenever we’re photographed together.”

  “What are you talking about?” Seneca asked.

  He reached for her again, this time cradling her elbow. “Come with me and I’ll explain everything.” Phillip led her back to the living room of the larger suite, easing her down to the sofa and sitting beside her. “The reason I was late coming down was because Booth wanted to talk about you and me.”

  Pulling her legs up under her, Seneca shifted to face Phillip. “What about you and me?”

  “Booth wants to market us as a couple.”

  The very thing she hadn’t wanted to occur was already on her agent’s agenda. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?” Even as she asked the question she knew he wasn’t kidding.

  Phillip, who’d divulged more than he should have, shook his head. “No, I’m not kidding. Booth didn’t want me to say anything to you until he told you, but I didn’t want the Barracuda to blindside you and you go off on him like you did me.”

  “I doubt if Booth would represent me if I punched him out.”

  “Don’t be so certain about that. I’ve heard rumors that he likes to be spanked.”

  Seneca scrunched up her nose. “Kinky.”

  “You don’t know the half,” Phillip crooned, smiling. He rested a hand on her bare knee. “Are you a virgin?” He knew he’d shocked Seneca when she emitted an audible gasp. “Are you?” he repeated.

  A beat passed. Seneca’s eyes narrowed. “Where are you going with this, Phillip?”

  “You don’t drink, do drugs or sleep with men.”

  “I don’t drink not because I’m not twenty-one, but because they’re empty calories. One cocktail and I’m reaching for the chips and nuts. I don’t do drugs because I saw firsthand what it did to my cousin. She sold her body, then her infant son for two hundred dollars worth of crack. She died last year from AIDS. I’m currently celibate, because a man I’d believed loved me was sleeping with me and my best friend at the same time.”

  “I guess that translates into you having trust issues when it comes to men.”

  “Big-time,” Seneca confirmed. “I have guy friends, but they’re just that—friends.”

  Phillip removed his hand from her knee. He had his answer. Any hope he’d had to sleep with Seneca was dashed with her “I don’t sleep with men.” But he wasn’t about to give up. In fact, he liked the fact that she was playing hard to get. That made the chase even more challenging.

  “Can I be one of your guy friends?”

  Seneca stared at the man who probably could have any woman he wanted even if he hadn’t been a high-profile athlete. He was an exquisite physical specimen, and he was a rare find because he wasn’t the stereotypical brawn and no brains. Phillip had put off going into the NBA to attend college, majoring in premed.

  Peering up at him through a fringe of long lashes, Seneca met his penetrating gaze. “It looks as if our agent has already taken care of that. Didn’t you tell me that we’re going to be a couple?”

  Phillip’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. “So, you’re willing to go along with Booth’s proposition?”

  “Do I have a choice?” she asked.

  “You could always say no, but be prepared for the backlash,” he warned. “What Booth is proposing is very commonplace in the movie and recording industries—hip-hop stars hooking up with music divas, rockers with supermodels and actresses with athletes. You and I have chosen careers with a very short shelf life. I give myself another ten years before I retire—that is, if I can stay healthy.

  “You’re twenty trying to make it big when there are fifteen- and sixteen-year-olds out there who think of you as old and a has-been. But you have something special, Seneca, and Booth knows that. Barracuda, Svengali or Machiavelli aside, the man knows his business.”

  Seneca studied Phillip for a full minute, digesting what he’d said. “Have you done this before? Hooking up with a woman for publicity?”

  Phillip’s expression was a mask of stone. “Yes.” The single word was pregnant with revulsion. “He asked me to escort a singer, who will remain nameless, to an award show. Her breath was horrific and I spent the entire time holding my breath every chance I could. Booth wasn’t too happy when I refused to see her again, and I told him that the next time he decided to pair me up with someone I had to meet the lady beforehand.”

  There was only the whisper of their measured breathing and the bluesy jazz piece floating from speakers placed strategically throughout the suite as Seneca contemplated the turn her life had taken in a matter of hours. She wanted an agent, and she was about to get one. An agent who’d built his reputation as a risk taker. And even before she’d signed a contract with him he’d planned how he’d wanted to market her. What better publicity for his client than to have a supermodel date a superstar athlete?

  Smiling and leaning closer to Phillip, she brushed her mouth over his. “How’s my breath?”

  Phil
lip placed a hand along the delicate curve of Seneca’s jaw and deepened the kiss. He felt resistance, then her mouth relaxed and he caressed her lips with his.

  “It’s perfect—just like the rest of you,” he whispered against her parted lips.

  Seneca placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back. “Could you please get me some water? I’m feeling rather parched.”

  Phillip went to get her water. He took a bottle of Fuji water from the refrigerator, emptied the contents into a glass and then retrieved a bottle of beer for himself. Returning to the living room, he found Seneca peering through the telescope. His hot gaze lingered on the curve of her hips, then moved lower to her long, bare legs and narrow feet. The flesh between his thighs stirred to life and it took Herculean self-control to repress his erection.

  “What are you looking at?” he asked, as he approached her. He handed her the glass of water.

  “Phillip, I can see the pedestrians on the Brooklyn Bridge.”

  “I’m more of a stargazer than a people watcher.”

  She touched her glass to the neck of his beer bottle. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  Vertical lines appeared between his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “When Booth proposes I go out with you, I promise to act very surprised.”

  “Don’t act too surprised or you’ll arouse his suspicions.”

  It was Seneca’s turn to frown, although she’d made it a practice to keep her face expressionless to lessen the ravages of laugh lines. “Why would you say that?”

  “There’s no doubt his doorman has already reported back that you were waiting for me. Booth Gordon has legions of spies and paparazzi on his payroll. If there is no scandal, then he’ll fabricate one.”

  She took a swallow of water, watching Phillip over the rim of the glass as he took a long, deep swallow of his beer. “Why have you managed to remain scandal-free?”

  “My endorsements come with a morality clause. And that means no substance abuse, sex with underage girls, drunken orgies or brawls and an endless laundry list of don’ts.”

  “Do they actually spell it out like that?”

  He nodded. “Either I adhere to their rules or give up several hundred million in endorsements.”

  Seneca whistled softly. Her long-term goal was earning a hundred thousand a year, while Phillip earned nearly a half billion in brand sponsorship for sports drinks, men’s fragrances, sneakers, pain medication and a world-renowned clothing designer.

  “I suppose I would behave, too, for that kind of money.”

  “It’s not that hard to stay out of trouble. It all comes down to making the right choices—whether it’s your friends or a woman.”

  “Tell me about the private Phillip Kingston—the one the camera doesn’t get to see.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” she repeated.

  Phillip flashed his sensual smile. “Have dinner here with me tomorrow night. I’ll send a car for you and arrange to take you back home.”

  “I’d love to, but I have to go to D.C. for my nephew’s baptism. What about one day next week?”

  “It can’t be next week.” He’d changed his mind again about leaving for L.A. now that Seneca had agreed to go out with him. “Remember, I’m going to see my folks.”

  Seneca lifted her shoulders. “Then we’ll get together when you get back.” She handed him the half-empty glass. “I only have another hour before my driver is off-duty, so I’m going to leave now.” Phillip watched as Seneca put on her shoes, retrieved her cell phone from her purse and called the driver. “I’ll be ready as soon as I use your bathroom.”

  Reaching for his jacket, he slipped his arms into it. By the time she’d returned, he’d filled the pockets with the money clip, cell, and card case with his ID and was waiting at the door. “I’ll ride down with you.”

  Chapter Four

  This time Seneca was prepared when she stepped out into the hotel lobby. Hand in hand they strolled across the marble floor, ignoring the bold stares and whispers. What she’d discovered when first moving to New York City was that everyone regarded themselves as a celebrity. There were times when she passed an actor, recording artist or athlete on the sidewalk that she’d noticed people barely gave them a cursory glance. It was tourists who wanted to take pictures or asked for autographs.

  Her driver had maneuvered up to the curb and had opened the rear door with her approach. He inclined his head. “Miss Houston. Mr. Kingston.”

  Seneca got in, and much to her surprise Phillip slipped in beside her. “What are you doing?” she whispered at the same time the door closed with a solid slam.

  Reaching for her hand, Phillip laced his fingers through hers. “I want to make certain you make it home safely.”

  She sucked her teeth loudly. “Of course I’m going to make it home safely. That’s why I hired a driver.”

  He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “If ever you need a driver, just call the hotel and tell the concierge you need a car.”

  “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not. I’ll add your name to my account.”

  Seneca wanted to ask Phillip why her, or if he extended the courtesy to all his women. Although appreciative of the offer, she doubted whether she would take him up on it. “Thank you,” she said instead.

  “You’re not going to call.” His query was a statement.

  “Did I say I wouldn’t?” she retorted.

  “You won’t, only because you want to prove that you’re a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man for anything.”

  “That’s not true. Men are good for a few things.”

  “Please list them for me, baby.”

  Seneca went completely still. It was the first time he’d referred to her by the endearment, and whereas she intensely disliked it, just hearing it roll fluidly off Phillip’s tongue sent shivers of warming over her body. How, she mused, could one man be the complete package, possess everything most women looked for? He claimed looks, intelligence and physical prowess and exhibited what she’d found lacking in some of the boys with whom she’d grown up: good breeding. However, since meeting Phillip it was as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to exhibit a negative side of his personality that would confirm her belief that she couldn’t trust a man.

  Turning her head, she stared out the side window. “They’re useful when I need them to move something heavy.”

  Phillip smiled. “What else?”

  “Checking the oil in the car and/or changing a flat tire.”

  “What else?”

  “That’s about it.” Seneca turned to see Phillip’s startled expression.

  “What about making a baby?”

  She waved a hand. “I don’t need a man for that. I can always go the test tube route.”

  “That’s no fun,” he mumbled.

  “It is if I don’t want to be bothered with a baby daddy. It will be just me and my baby.”

  Stretching his right arm over the back of the seat, Phillip touched the wisps escaping the intricate twist of thick dark hair. “Is that what you want, Seneca? To have a child and not give your son or daughter the option of having a father in their lives?”

  “It would depend on the father.”

  Phillip caressed the nape of her neck. “So, you punish the entire human male species because of one jackass. Grow up, Seneca. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last woman who will sleep with a cheater.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” she spat out.

  “Then what’s your problem?”

  “My problem is that the SOB told everyone in our school that we’d gone to a party and after I had a few drinks I went into a room where guys stood in line while I gave them oral sex. He lied, because I never gave him oral sex.”

  “Damn,” Phillip drawled under his breath. “I can see why you have trust issues. But remember, not all men kiss and tell.”

  “That may be
true, but I had the misfortune of sleeping with one. Luckily it was my last year of high school. Instead of attending a local college, I chose one that was downstate.”

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “Ithaca.” She told Phillip she’d been accepted into Cornell University intending to major in theater, film and dance, but Seneca knew she had to leave her hometown or endure the snickering and sly looks from those who’d rather believe a lie than the truth.

  “My second choice was NYU. Moving downstate frightened me at first, but now I wouldn’t live anywhere else. I had to go from full-time to part-time, because I have to be available for shoots. And now that I’m going to sign with BG Management I’ll probably have to drop out.”

  “Forfeiting or putting your education on hold can’t be an easy decision for you,” Phillip said in a quiet tone. He also wanted to tell Seneca that she was young and shouldn’t judge all men because an insensitive idiot sought to enhance his sexual reputation at her expense. The one who she should’ve been angry with was her so-called best friend.

  Seneca closed her eyes for several seconds. “You’re right. It isn’t easy.” She couldn’t imagine what her family’s reaction would be once she revealed she wouldn’t be going back to classes for the upcoming semester.

  The remainder of the ride uptown was conducted in silence, with Seneca contemplating how she would break the news to her parents that she was to become a college dropout. Willing her mind blank, she closed her eyes and sank into the unyielding, muscled body of the man with whom she would be linked romantically as a marketing ploy.

  Seneca opened her eyes when the driver got out of the limo and came around to open the rear door. Extending his hand, he helped her out at the same time as Phillip opened the door closest to the curb.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered when he reached for her hand.

  Phillip gave Seneca a smile parents usually reserved for their well-behaved children. “I’m going to make certain you get inside safely.”