Sporting Chance: A Raw Romance Read online

  Sporting Chance

  Penny Henry

  Raw Romance

  Erotic fiction

  Published in English (United States)

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses,

  places, events and incidents are either the products of

  the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

  or actual events is purely coincidental

  Published by William P Blight 2014

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced

  in any form without express permission of the publisher

  Copyright: William Peter Blight © 2014

  For my beloved Tina

  Titles in the Raw Romance series

  Sporting Chance

  Nymphomaniac

  Double Take

  Cover photo courtesy of Dreamstime

  Chapter One

  Temple fell out from the dimly lit bar. The guy she’d picked up was a step behind and walked into her back as she stopped to get her bearings.

  “Oops sorry, babe, that’ll be my fault.” He rested his hands on her hips as Temple looked up and down the street. It was an area of Orlando she didn’t know well. She hadn’t meant to end up in this part of town. She had just got into her car and kept driving. Ben’s death had hit her hard. But she hadn’t yet cried. Ben had said that life was for living. She was doing this for him. It was a madness she hadn’t thought through.

  “So, where do you wanna go, babe?”

  Temple turned her head. He was a good-looking guy, clean and well dressed and most of all he had brought protection. “Where did you leave your car?”

  He pointed to an alleyway. “Its round the corner but I’m telling you now. I ain’t in any fit state to drive.” He stumbled and hitched up his jeans as Temple stepped forward.

  “I’m not asking you to drive. Just take me to it.”

  Her thin dress clung to her hips as she walked ahead of him. She hadn’t worn a bra and the guy hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her body all night. She sashayed a little bit, swinging her purse and tossing her hair. He had to run to keep pace with her athletic strides. She looked familiar but he had other things on his mind. She was cute and had made it pretty clear what she wanted. He pointed and clicked the remote as he stumbled in her footsteps.

  “It’s the gold Chevy.”

  Temple didn’t say a word but headed for the flashing hazard lights. The street was quiet and the car was newish and clean. She pulled the door open and tumbled onto the back seat. He was right behind her. She grabbed his face as he landed beside her. She kissed him hard before dropping her hands to unbutton the top buttons of his shirt and push it over his shoulders.

  “Get undressed.”

  “Whoah, let’s slow down a bit, babe.” The man pressed his hands to Temple’s shoulders and eased himself away from her. This ain’t right.” He tugged his shirt back across his chest. “Look, I know I’m drunk and you’re smoking hot but...” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you just don’t seem like that kind of gal. You’re upset and I ain’t planning on taking advantage of it.”

  Temple sat up straight and looked at the man who was turning her down. He was young and had an honest face. His expression was one of suspicion. He looked like he didn’t believe his luck and maybe he was batting out of his league. She closed her eyes and took a breath. “I want... I want...” She shut up. She didn’t know what she wanted. Sure as hell Ben wouldn’t have wanted to see her like this. But Ben was dead. She was suddenly angry. “You don’t want me?”

  “Hey, I didn’t say that. But it’s not about that, is it?”

  Temple pinched her lips together. The guy was more perceptive than she had given him credit for. He was right. Ben had left her and she wanted to get back at him. How could he? How could he just die and leave her on her own? She felt the anger rising again but the guy must have read the signs.

  “Come on. I’ll get you a cab.”

  Temple hauled in another long breath. She managed a half-smile. “Maybe you’re right. I’m sorry...” She found her purse and slid out from the door. He was at her side in a moment, matching her steps and most likely cursing the good manners his mother had taught him. A cab was passing at the end of the alleyway and he whistled to bring it to a halt.

  “Maybe we’ll bump into each other again,” he said with a rueful grin.

  Temple met his eyes. “Thank you. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Hey, forget it. Grief has a way of messing us up for a little bit. You’re gonna be fine.”

  She was suddenly emotional and bundled into the rear seat. The door closed and she didn’t look back. She felt herself coming apart. It was a long ride from where she found herself and Temple’s eyes filled with tears. The driver fixed his eyes on the road as the floodgates opened and Temple cried uncontrollably. First she sobbed for Ben and then she wept for herself until there were no tears left to cry.

  The impact of raw testosterone hit her like a sledgehammer. It had been three weeks since Temple had set foot inside the sports complex. She paused at the doors to the martial arts studio to slip off her shoes before stepping into the dojo. The call from Jill Harrison had sounded urgent but she needed to see her friends before keeping the appointment.

  The sudden 'keeyah!' that accompanied each choreographed strike and block thudded against Temple's eardrums, kick-starting the familiar rush of adrenaline. She inclined her head as the glance of the Tang Soo Do instructor fell upon her and the class was dismissed.

  "Hey, Temple, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you're back already?"

  The concern in the voice of the gangly instructor as she loped across the floor brought a lame smile to Temple's mouth. "Don't worry, Gracie. It's just a bit of business. It won't wait forever. I don't plan on staying long but things need to get back to normal pretty soon. The complex won't run itself and with Ben gone―"

  "Hey, honey, come here." Grace pushed out her arms to take Temple in a hug. "I'm here for you, Temple. You just lean on me. But only 'til you're feeling strong again, mind. You'll soon be back bruising my ribs with those wicked combinations."

  Temple responded to Grace's embrace, pinching back the tears. There had been too many tears in the weeks since Ben Gilzean had suffered his massive heart attack and she had had made a fool of herself in a dingy bar. "I'm not exactly dressed for the dojo, am I?" She stepped back an arm’s length and got control of her tears. She looked down at her faded jeans and loose grey sweatshirt to emphasize the point. "But it won't be long, Gracie. You can count on it."

  A low and melodic voice spoke from behind her. "Just make sure it's not too long, Temple. There's more than Grace waiting for a piece of you. We’ve missed you."

  Temple didn't need to turn to know the identity of the speaker. "Tim, I've missed you too!" She freed herself from Grace's long arms and spun to hug the tough-looking man. "Who's winning?" she asked.

  Tim Crane smiled at their private joke. He was one of Orlando's finest - a detective lieutenant who spent his life batting for the good guys. It was an occupation that went some way to explaining the shiny forehead that went back way too far for a thirty-two year old. "I think we're winning.” He pulled an honest smile that brightened up his rugged features and held her tightly.

  "Great. That’s always good to know, Tim." Temple let him go and looked at the others of the tight group that made up the elite students of the Korean martial art.

  They had drifted towards her and not wanted to push too hard. Tim had broken the ice and the impish Samantha Hockley was next to press herself into Temple’s arms
. Sam was as popular for her mischievous personality as she was for the juicy gossip that she never tired of repeating. This time Samantha didn't trust herself to speak but held tightly to Temple. Her big brown eyes shined with unspoken emotion. The others followed and greeted Temple warmly. They waited awkwardly before saying hello and offering their condolences. Then the group excused themselves to start their individual stretching exercises. Grace and Temple were left to themselves.

  "You sure you're okay, honey?"

  "I'm fine, Gracie. I promise you. I don't know why everyone's fussing so much."

  "Maybe cos you don’t look so fine, honey, that's why. You've had one heck of a shock and people are worried about you. You don't have to be here. You know that, don’t you? You're the boss now. "

  "I know that, Gracie, but I can handle it. I just need to get a hold on myself and get on with my life. Hart Leisure has never been more important to me than it is right now. This is what Ben and my daddy spent their lives creating. I don't want to let them down. It’s what it was all about for them, Gracie."

  "You not gonna let anybody down, honey. But you’ve got to take some time. Promise me you’ll do that. Ben and your daddy will understand."

  "I promise," said Temple. She took the hands of her frowning friend into her own. "It's not so bad, Gracie. I've got Jill Harrison to look after the office. She's quite capable of running things for now. I trust her."

  Grace raised her eyebrows. Jill Harrison was not one of her favorite people, especially where the welfare of Temple was concerned. "You don't go taking too much notice of Mizz Harrison, you hear?" She shook her tight-cropped head dolefully. "That woman is all about the money. She don't have no feeling for the real business round here."

  "Okay, ma'am, " teased Temple. "I’ll be careful. I won't let her take advantage of me."

  "You make sure that you don't," warned Grace. "Else you'll have me to deal with."

  At twenty-seven, Grace was one year older than Temple but their upbringings were as different as milk and molasses. Grace had been raised on the tough streets of Jacksonville and had arrived on their doorstep with nothing but an old carpetbag and a burning light in her eye to be the best. Ben had spotted her talent in a heartbeat and taken her under his wing. For eight years Grace had worked, trained and instructed under his watchful eye. She had become part of the family. Grace was the closest thing to a sister that Temple had ever known. And Grace was worried for her sister.

  Temple hugged her best friend fiercely. "I'll be fine, Gracie. Now listen, I've got to go. I can't keep Jill waiting any longer. She must think that something is important enough to ask me to come in. Go and teach."

  Temple inclined her head and Grace returned the courtesy before spinning away to call the class to order. The yelled explosions of power were splitting the air as Temple slipped on her shoes and left the dojo for Jill's office.

  She walked slowly down the corridors with the memories of happier times flooding over her. She had missed her dad desperately in the beginning. His death had been unexpected but Ben had taken over and treated Temple like the daughter he never had. She had been sixteen at the time and Ben had been her father's partner for as long as she could remember. Greg Hart had raised his daughter single-handed from the age of six after his bored, socialite wife had abandoned them. He had put in eighteen hours a day to raise his only child and begin the job of transforming the old gymnasium into what it was today. Ben had carried on the work and ensured Greg’s daughter wanted for nothing. He had been bustin’ with pride that she had turned out pretty well. Ben had carried the business forward and recently Temple had been playing her own part.

  She had become the face and figure of the Orlando complex. Temple was the American fantasy. Her violet eyes gave eye-catching life to the blonde hair and golden skin of the face that leapt from giant posters on the busy Interstate and stood on every corner of the bustling Buena Vista tourist centers. The flow of wealthy tourists and the ever-increasing number of celebrity members kept the automatic doors working like pistons and the cash rolling in. Now it seemed it had all been for nothing. For the first time in her life Temple felt truly alone. There was her small circle of friends and she had the loving care of Molly and Angus Kirk - the Scottish couple who acted as housekeeper and handyman for herself and Ben. But not even Molly would take it upon herself to dictate to Temple how she lived her life. That had been Ben's department. It had been Ben that vetted the young men that pursued his willful charge. And Ben that caught her sneaking into the house after a wild night out. Now he was gone. She had to take responsibility for her own life, her own mistakes. She wasn't sure she could handle it. Then she was at the door to Jill's office. She took a breath and stepped inside.

  She recognized Elliot Buchanan, the landlord's agent, as he rose smoothly from his chair to greet her. Smooth was a word easily associated with Elliot.

  "Hello, Temple. How are you coping?" asked Elliot. He pushed out a soft, manicured hand to hold Temple's fingers and covered her wrist with his other hand. The over-familiar gesture was accompanied by a smile that was intended as sympathetic but resulted in an unfortunate grimace.

  Temple forced a smile to her mouth. "I'm fine, Elliot. Thank you for coming to the ceremony." Her thanks were automatic but her words lacked sincerity. Elliot had been there as the landlord's representative. He didn’t possess a single caring bone in his body.

  "No problem at all," said Elliot. He squeezed her slender fingers and held onto her hand in his sweaty grip. "Ben was a good man. It was the least that I could do. I'll miss him. We worked well together."

  That was the first that Temple had heard of it. She rather thought that Ben regarded Elliot as a bit of a joke. The slick Elliot Buchanan was a Florida son of the pompous original settlers’ community. He was arrogant and flashy. He hailed from once-wealthy plantation owners who had missed the boat when the Studio’s money began to pour into the state. They had relied on crops of citrus fruit and winter vegetables to see them through and ignored the irreversible impact of the new economy. The Studios had passed them by.

  "We're all going to miss him," agreed Temple. She extracted her hand from his damp grip and absent-mindedly listened to Elliot extol the virtues of a man he didn't really know at all. What was it about Elliot Buchanan that she found so distasteful? He was about her age, suave and moderately wealthy. In fact he was no less than the son-in-law of Travis Campbell himself. His marriage to the young Melanie Campbell had been both brief and tragic. It had been barely six months before the car wreck that had robbed Elliot of his youthful bride and Travis Campbell of his only child. Temple studied Elliot’s face. He had the dark good looks of a matador. It was easy to see why the seventeen-year-old Melanie had defied her father and married Elliot out of state. The untimely death of his daughter had devastated Travis Campbell. He had become reclusive overnight and was rarely seen away from his ranch. But the tragedy hadn't prevented Campbell Properties from growing to be one of the biggest property developers and realtors in the state. Elliot was the Company's representative and had to be tolerated. And he had been spending a lot of time with Ben until the heart attack. But business was Ben's domain. She trusted him completely.

  Elliot was beginning to falter in his glowing tribute to Ben. Temple decided to help him out. "I think we all know what a good man Ben was, Elliot," cut in Temple. "Let's get on with what you're here for. I'm sure it isn't just to tell us how much you're going to miss Ben." Elliot's face dropped and Temple realized she had sounded a little cruel. She placed a hand lightly on Elliot's arm. "I do appreciate what you're saying, Elliot," she said in consolation. "It's just that I know you’re a busy man. We all have other things we should be doing. I’m sorry if I sounded rude."

  Elliot’s hurt feelings were easily soothed. He flashed a smile and Temple dropped her hand from his arm. At the same time heard a low sardonic laugh from somewhere in the room. She became aware of a pair of eyes monitoring her every gesture from one side of the office. She r
efused to turn her head. He was a tall man, just out of her line of vision. No one made a move to introduce him and she wasn't about to ask. She was used to being stared at. She expected it. Temple gave her full attention to the slim red-head sitting behind the desk.

  "Hello, Temple." Jill greeted her employer with a smile that was not quite carried to her emerald green eyes. "Dare I ask how you're feeling?"

  "I really am okay," repeated Temple for the umpteenth time that day. "What's this all about, Jill? What's so urgent that it just won't wait 'til I'm ready to come back in my own good time?" She had the utmost respect for Jill's business acumen but she had no inclination to be drawn into yet more mindless pleasantries.

  "Maybe you'd like to sit down, Temple. I'm think this is going to come as a bit of a shock."

  Chapter Two

  Temple was intrigued by Jill’s softly spoken words. She half-turned to grab a chair. Elliot stepped forward to jockey it into position. Temple moved back to give him room and absent-mindedly looked round. The same stare was upon her as when she first had walked into Jill's office. She had forgotten about him. She lifted her eyes and met those of the lean man lounging against a tall filing cabinet. His elbow was propped on top of the cabinet with his chin resting in his hand. Temple's breath caught in her throat. The instructions from the part of her brain that normally controlled such basic functions had gone haywire. She parted her lips but no breath came. The face was handsome, chiseled beneath an unruly shock of silver hair. He was in his mid to late forties and almost unrecognizable from the out-of-date photographs that cropped up in the gossip pages. He looked totally different from the way she remembered him from her childhood. The slow smile that formed on his mouth was just about the sexiest thing she had ever seen. He was the cowboy with corded arms that every girl dreamed of falling into. An open necked, tan shirt stretched tautly across wide shoulders, tucked inside the waistband of designer blue jeans. She allowed her eyes drift down the denim jeans and couldn’t avoid taking in the well-packed pouch at the vee of his casually crossed legs. No cowboy boots, but what the heck. Travis Campbell was looking at her with an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes.