Playing for Keeps/Body Check (Rules of the Game) Read Online Free

it.
    Maybe if she kept repeating it a thousand times, she'd start to believe it.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
    Ten days later, with his affairs in California taken care of for the time being, Nick landed at JFK airport and was met by his agent, John Matera.
    The two shook hands, retrieved Nick's luggage, then entered a waiting cab, bound for the Trump Tower in Manhattan, where John had secured a penthouse apartment for Nick.
    Settled in the cab, John pulled out a folder. "Ok, we have lots of business to attend to, my friend. Tomorrow morning you're scheduled to make a short appearance on Good Day America, the day after, you're live on Dave O'Brien's talk show. Next week, you're sharing a cover of Sports Illustrated with Quinn Rafferty, the goalie for the New York Thunder. I'd love to get him for a client."
    Nick raised a brow. "Quinn Rafferty? Incredible athlete. I met him a couple of times at a few charity dinners. He's a good guy. Be good to see him again."
    John nodded. "Page Six wants to interview you in a couple of weeks for a feature story in their Sunday supplement as well."  
    Nick's head began to spin. "Whoa, slow down, pal," he chuckled. "First things first, man. Did you find Jenna?"
    John nodded. "Of course I did. Ye of little faith," he joked.   "Are you hungry?"
    "I'm sure your answer has something to do with my question, doesn’t it?"
    "She owns a quaint little Italian restaurant in Carroll Gardens, Cafe Valentine . Celebrated the grand opening just recently. Terrific food, great bar.   Again I ask, are you hungry?"
    Nick smiled broadly. "I'm starving. The only thing I had on the plane was a bag of stale peanuts and a glass of flat soda. I'm in the mood for a huge plate of veal marsala, spaghetti and a glass of wine."
    John stopped shuffling papers and looked at Nick.   "Their menu is broad and eclectic. They serve a brick oven pizza that could break your heart, and a wine list that kicks ass."
    Nick's blood rushed through his veins at the thought of seeing Jenna again. "I have unsettled business with her, John, and I really don't want to see her for the first time in twelve years in her place of business, but I can't wait."
    John frowned. "Ok, let's get you settled at the hotel first."
    Nick nodded, then gazed thoughtfully out the window. Brooklyn. Home.
    Jenna.
    ***
     
                The savory taste and fragrance of pesto sauce teased Jenna's taste buds in the kitchen of her new cafe when she heard a slight commotion in the main dining room.   Applause rang in her ears. What the hell?
    "Jen, you gotta see this." Grace and the cafe's sous chef, Mario, seemed breathless as they entered the kitchen. All activity stopped, until Jenna, hands on hips, turned to face her cooks, tilted her head until they resumed their preparations.
    "Told you the veal osso bucco was good," Jen joked.
    Gracie took her sister by the arm. "Oh it's not the veal, more like beef cake. Just keep that smile glued and come with me."
    "Gracie what on earth...?"
    Halted in her tracks, that's when she saw him. Tall, tan and beautiful. The love of her youth and the memories following it crashed over her like a tsunami.
    "Nico," she breathed.
     
    ***
     
    While her brain attempted to register his presence, Nick headed toward her with long strides. Inhaling a hint of spice, Jenna nearly forgot to breathe. Looking up to meet his sparkling, mink brown eyes, her mouth was dry as cotton, legs were jelly. One of his arms was secured in a sling, and Jenna remembered he suffered from a shoulder injury.
    Nick Dante. Her first love, first passion. Still incredibly handsome, tall, lean and broad shouldered. The café had grown silent, and all eyes turned to them.
    Jenna flushed, heart racing and realized all attention was focused on them. He stood before her, the man she'd married a lifetime ago, his breaths a little rushed when he tunneled his fingers through his hair. She recognized the action as nervousness and was a bit