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How had she been talked into this? Cynthiana Davenport was in way over her head. She did not plan fundraiser galas; she attended them. So why was it that she was now head of the planning committee? And for baseball of all things. She didn’t even like baseball, much less know anything about the sport. So what if her best friend had married a hunky major league player last year? Just because Stacy had to learn about the sport didn’t mean she did. She was going to call her right now and tell her the deal was off. Someone else would have to take her place. Cynthiana dug her phone out of her purse and was about to hit speed dial when she groaned in resignation and threw it back into her purse. Stacy was seven months pregnant with twins and on total bed rest. She couldn’t back out. Stacy didn’t need that kind of stress. The gala was only a month away and everything was practically complete. A piece of cake, right? She could do this. Besides, it was only a big party, and if there was one thing Cynthiana was good at, it was throwing parties. Sure, this one was a little more complex than she was used to, but hey, how much trouble could five hundred wealthy elite and a handful of athletes be? Not nearly as much trouble as managing her growing feelings for one very gorgeous, very charming baseball player with deep brown eyes and a killer smile...who just happened to be her right hand on the planning committee. Roberto Luque. If she could just ignore his adorable dimples, she might get through the next few hours. Roberto was a playboy and she didn’t date playboys. Ever. She would just have to keep her feelings under tight control until the night was over. Hadn’t she managed to do just that every time they had seen each other over the past year? Admittedly, it was growing harder and harder, especially since he seemed to be stepping up the charm. A man like Roberto knew very well when a woman was attracted to him, but she was determined not to be one of the many on that list. So far she had remained safe by provoking some sort of argument with him any time they were together—that usually cooled things down—but she hadn’t been able to do that since they started working together on the gala. Thankfully, they wouldn’t be alone tonight, the rest of the committee would be there too. Which was a good thing, considering they were meeting at her house. Heaven only knew what would happen if the two of them were alone. Together. Spontaneous combustion came to mind. Her two story, red-brick house on twenty-five acres in a small Dallas suburb gave her the privacy of having a slice of the country while remaining close to the city. Deciding they would be more comfortable working in the living room, she finished setting out the last of the Chinese food boxes on the coffee table. The doorbell rang. Refusing to glance in the mirror by the door, she opened it to find Roberto. Just Roberto. It was dangerous to womankind for one man to be so handsome. That mischievous glint in his dark eyes, a touch of humor on his full lips, dark tendrils of hair curled on his forehead and at his nape. How was it that the sight of him made her feel lightheaded? Get a grip girl, he’s only a man. “Hi, Princesa. I brought the wine and the guest lists as you ordered.” “I don’t order, I request.” Defensive mode was her method of survival around him. She stepped back and invited him in. Roberto stood just inside and surveyed her house. She followed his gaze. Lots of windows let in plenty of sunlight. Sheer red curtains over white slatted blinds complemented the also white carpeting and black leather sectional with red throw pillows scattered over it. Why was it so important that he like her home? With a smile and a shake of his head, Roberto said, “Nice. It suits you. Fiery yet warm. By the way, Jennifer and Raquel won’t be able to make it tonight.” Striding inside, he set the wine bottle on the table next to the wine glasses and the manila folder containing the guest lists on the sofa. So much for her well-laid plans. “Why not? We have a lot to do tonight. Why didn’t they call me?” She wanted to stomp her foot like a child. Fortunately, she was able to control that urge. Unfortunately, her face felt as hot as stoked fire. Darn, why did she have such pale skin? Was it anger or the thought of being alone with him? Anger, definitely anger. “Because they called me,” Roberto replied. “Between the two of us, we can get everything done. Not to worry, Princesa, hard work is not hazardous to your health.”
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