"Did she beg you to do this? Did she cry?" "Of course not." Dominic stood up. "Hand her my files."

He left, anger thrumming through his veins. He needed a killer workout to keep him from knocking his ex-agent's teeth out.

Tonight, over dinner, they'd talk business. And then he'd take her home and leave her there. With her doors locked and dead bolted, she'd be safe from him.

Like she should have been all along.

"What the fuck is going on between you and Dominic?"

Melissa spun around at the sound of her father's voice. He never swore. Never.

"Follow me," he demanded.

She shot out of her chair and followed him into the same conference room she and Dominic had occupied not five minutes earlier. Her father waited for her to step inside before closing the door. Loudly.

"Dominic just waltzed into my office and told me to transfer his files to you." He pinned her with a hard gaze. "Did you know about this?"

Melissa didn't know what to do. Should she lie? No, she was a terrible liar. It would only make things worse. "Yes," she said. "He wants to work with me. I told him no."

Her father's gaze was unyielding. "You turned down an offer to work with one of the greatest football players of all time?"

She nodded. "I want to be an agent, but I'm not going to steal your clients."

Tom walked past her to stare out the plate-glass windows at the Bay. "Sink or swim."

"Excuse me?"

Her father turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "I don't have the first clue why he wants to work with you. But go ahead, take him. He's yours." He strode to the door, stopping just inside the threshold, "just be careful, Melissa. Dominic might seem like a nice guy, but he's just like any other player, keeping an eye out for the next best thing to come along." He paused. "And I wouldn't trust JP as far as I could throw him. You're a pretty girl. Don't forget it."

Chapter Nine

Early that evening, Melissa spent another hour trying on outfits. She should have spent the time digging deeper into JP's situation, but too little sleep last night combined with her intense anticipation of dinner tonight made concentration impossible. So far, all she'd done was google JP and print out his long list of transgressions. The press certainly loved writing about all the trouble he got into. The huge stack of gossip pieces and articles awaited her tomorrow morning, along with an appointment with her new client at his oceanfront rental along the Pacific Coast Highway in South San Francisco.

She needed to settle things with Dominic tonight, so then she'd be clear-headed and focused in the morning. The only problem was, she couldn't forget the way he'd made her feel, the way he'd branded every inch of her skin with his touch.

One night with him had changed everything. She would never be able to settle for anything less than the passion he'd aroused in her. Which laid the impossible task before her: find another man who utterly and completely rocked her world.

The doorbell rang and her heart fluttered madly as she headed into her foyer/living room. Her apartment was piddly compared to Dominic's expensive, masculine lair, but it was a cozy place to come home to. She opened the door and lost her breath.

She should have been used to his magnificence by now, but she wasn't. Far from it.

"Come in," she said in as strong a voice as she could manage with no air in her lungs.

He handed her a single rose. A red one. "For you."

He was simply being a gentleman. He probably bought dozens of roses every week for dozens of women. Dominic's thoughtfulness was part of his innate charm. It had nothing whatsoever to do with how he did—or didn't—feel about her.

"Thank you. It's beautiful." Glad to have something to do with her hands, she found a vase for the rose.

His eyes hungrily traveled her body, and she wondered if she was imagining the possession she read in his eyes.

"You look wonderful."

The V between her legs throbbed with need, now that she knew how his touch could turn her inside out in the most pleasurable way possible.

No—she wouldn't keep doing this to herself. Crumpling the rose's wrapping into a ball and shoving it into the garbage can, she told herself to stay on track. Strictly professional.

As they walked out to his car, she stuck to business. "What do you think about the team's prospects for next year? Any new players to watch?"

He pulled away from the curb, then turned to look at her. "I have high hopes that we'll win another Super Bowl." And then: "You look beautiful, Melissa."

She turned away and pretended to look out the window. She'd thought they had an unspoken agreement to stick to business from here on out. What was he doing?

A few silent minutes later, they pulled up in front of Cravings, the hottest restaurant in the city. "I've always wanted to eat here," she said, now that there was a safe, utterly unsexy topic at hand. "I hear the wait list is crazy, that they're booked months in advance."

The valet opened her door and helped her out of the car, but Dominic was at her side before the man could help her up to the curb. She was surprised to recognize the very handsome owner standing at the entrance, saying hello to some customers, thanking others for coming. Jason had gained fame as a restaurateur in Napa and had opened this San Francisco location less than a year earlier.

A huge smile lit his face when he saw them, and he and Dominic embraced before he turned to greet her. "What a pleasure to meet you. I'm Jason."

She was amazed that a truly gorgeous man like him didn't make her heart race. "Melissa McKnight." Wanting to clarify things immediately, she quickly added, "Dominic and I work together at the McKnight Agency."

Jason's friendly expression didn't change. "He'll probably forget to tell you this, but I've kicked Dominic's ass on the football field more than once."

Dominic let Jason's obvious fib go. "I appreciate you squeezing us in last minute."

"Anything for a friend," Jason said as he escorted them through the packed house and into a private, far-too-intimate dining room. "Enjoy your meal."

"Jason seems really nice. Especially considering how good-looking and successful he is."

Something that looked like jealousy crossed Dominic's face. "He's a good guy. Married his college girlfriend recently."

A waiter knocked, then entered to pour two glasses of complimentary champagne.

"I want to know more about you, Melissa."

She hastily swallowed the liquid in her mouth. "Why?"

Dominic's small smile made her hot all over. "I met you fifteen years ago, but we've never really talked."

Because he'd always been a superstar and she'd always been in awe of him. And even though she'd memorized every interview he'd given during the past twenty years, she didn't really know anything about him at all. His prefootball past was vague and mysterious.

Another waiter came in to give them the details of the seven-course menu, and she nodded in all the right places even though she didn't hear a word he said. As the waiter placed an amuse-bouche on the plate in front of her, she told Dominic, "My life is very ordinary. I'd rather hear about yours."

"Not everyone finds football exciting." Popping a seared scallop into his mouth, he swallowed before adding, "My mother wanted me to be a doctor."