Rules of the Game by Nora Roberts Page B

without breaking rhythm. “You might notice how well I place the ball in the right fielder’s mitt. That takes more practice.”
    Brooke spotted Parks, surrounded by reporters. His uniform was filthy, streaked with dirt, while his face fared little better. The smudges of black under his eyes gave him a slightly wicked look. Without the cap his hair curled freely, darkened with sweat. But his face and body were relaxed. A smile lingered on his lips as he spoke. That battlefield intensity was gone from his eyes, she noted, as if it had never existed. If she hadn’t seen it, hadn’t experienced it from him, Brooke would have sworn the man wasn’t capable of any form of ruthlessness. Yet he was, she reminded herself, and it wouldn’t be smart to forget it.
    â€œWith only four games left in the regular season,” Parks stated, “I’ll be satisfied to end up with a three eighty-seven average for the year.”
    â€œIf you bat five hundred in those last games—”
    Parks shot the reporter a mild grin. “We’ll have to see about that.”
    â€œA little wind out there today and that game-winning sacrifice fly would’ve been a game-winning home run.”
    â€œThat’s the breaks.”
    â€œWhat was the pitch?”
    â€œInside curve,” he responded easily. “A little high.”
    â€œWere you trying for a four-bagger, Parks?”
    He grinned again, his expression altering only slightly when he spotted Brooke. “With one out and runners on the corners, I just wanted to keep the ball off the ground. Anything deep, and Kinjinsky scores . . . unless he wants the Lead Foot Award.”
    â€œLead Foot Award?”
    â€œAsk Snyder,” Parks suggested. “He’s the current holder.” With another smile, Parks effectively eased himself away. “Lee.” He nodded to his agent while running a casual finger down Brooke’s arm. She felt the shock waves race through her, and only barely managed not to jerk away. “Ms. Thorton. Nice to see you again.” His only greeting to Brooke was a slow smile as he caught the tip of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. She thought again it was wise to remember he wasn’t as safe as he appeared.
    â€œHell of a game, Parks,” Lee announced. “You gave us an entertaining afternoon.”
    â€œWe aim to please,” he murmured, still looking at Brooke.
    â€œClaire and I are going out to dinner. Perhaps you and Brooke would like to join us?”
    Before Brooke could register surprise at Claire having a date with Lee Dutton, or formulate an excuse against making it a foursome, Parks spoke up. “Sorry, Brooke and I have plans.”
    Turning her head, she shot Parks a narrowed look. “I don’t recall our making any plans.”
    Smiling, he gave her a brief tug. “You’ll have to learn to write things down. Why don’t you just wait in your box? I’ll be out in half an hour.” Without giving her a chance to protest, Parks strolled off toward the showers.
    â€œWhat incredible nerve,” Brooke grumbled, only to be given a sharp but discreet elbow in the ribs by Claire.
    â€œSorry you can’t join us, dear,” she said sweetly. “But then you’re not fond of Chinese food in any case. And Lee’s going to show me his collection first.”
    â€œCollection?” Brooke repeated blankly as she was steered into the narrow corridor.
    â€œWe’ve a mutual passion.” Claire gave Lee a quick and surprisingly flirtatious smile. “For Oriental art. Can you find your way back to the seats?”
    â€œI’m not a complete dolt,” Brooke muttered, while giving Lee a skeptical stare.
    â€œWell then.” Casually, Claire tucked her hand into Lee’s beefy arm. “I’ll see you Monday.”
    â€œHave a good time, kid,” Lee called over his shoulder as Claire propelled him