He fumbled ineffectively to reach into his pocket.
Emma moved his hands out of the way and dug into the front pocket of his dress pants. They didn’t have time to waste. “Who’s his date?” she asked, looking up at the people surrounding her.
A young brunette who looked in shock raised a hand.
“Do you know where his car is parked?” Or had she insisted on separate cars like Emma had?
Eyes wide and tear-filled, the woman nodded.
“Come on.” Brody grabbed the keys, took the woman by the arm and pulled her out toward the parking lot.
The seconds passed like hours while Emma waited. The man’s breathing grew more labored, his wheezing more pronounced. His pulse increased, each beat pounding beneath her fingertips. Emma did all she could, loosening his tie, unbuttoning his shirt to reduce any exterior restrictions to his airway and in preparation to administer CPR if his condition worsened. She reassured him, did her best to keep him calm and watched helplessly as his lips turned an alarming shade of blue.
Finally Brody crashed back into the room—did the man do anything quietly?—and thrust two EpiPens at her.
Then he set to work herding the gawkers outside.
Out of habit, Emma checked the packaging for signs of tampering and an expiration date. Not that it mattered because she would inject at least one regardless. Then she popped off the safety cap, flattened the material at the man’s outer thigh and administered the premeasured dose of medication right through his pants. Afterward she checked to make sure the needle had dropped and the full dosage had injected before massaging the insertion site.
The epinephrine went to work immediately. As his breathing eased and his color improved the man introduced himself as Neil. Emma stayed with him, which suited her just fine since she had no desire to have any interaction with Brody the Birthday Ruiner.
Fortunately for Neil, unfortunately for Emma, the ambulance arrived much faster than she’d anticipated. She gave her report to the EMTs, found her purse and hoped to slip away unnoticed.
But it seemed remnants of bad-luck bomb particulate lingered on her person.
Just outside the door, Nick snuck up beside her, linking his arm through hers and falling into step as she walked. “Soooo. Not a real physician or a real fiancé, after all.”
“I told you tonight’s a role-play date,” Emma lied, deciding to continue the charade rather than own up to her misinformation. “Tonight he’s the doctor and I’m his nurse.” She extricated herself from Nick’s grip and, as politely as she could, pushed him away.
She noticed Brody over by the privacy fence at the center of a swarm of his adoring fans. Of which she was not one—even if he was nauseatingly attractive and great with the kids on her floor.
“But you really are a nurse,” Nick pointed out.
“Well, yes.” She headed for the parking lot. “My role wasn’t much of a stretch.”
Nick followed her. “You know you’re still welcome to hang with me and Sugar. Brody, too.” He may have looked the part of laid-back man issuing a casual invitation, but his voice came out way too eager.
Would this night never end? “Thank you so much for the very tempting offer. But I really have to be going. Emergency at home,” she lied. “I’m not sure how Brody plans to spend the rest of his night. Maybe he’d be interested.” Based on all she’d read about him in online news articles, probably he’d be interested, especially once he got a look at Sugar.
“Hot diggity!” Nick said and veered off, probably to hunt down Sugar and give her the news.
The darn gravel hindered Emma’s hasty departure. Sadie had suggested she wear comfortable shoes. But chubby girls needed to elongate for optimum presentation, so she’d chosen a nice pair of three-inch wedge-heeled sandals for the evening. They were comfortable, usually, but, as it turned out, not ideal for travel over gravel.
“It was nice meeting you,” she yelled after Nick. Then she maneuvered the rest of the way to her SUV without looking back.
Chapter Two
“Like I told you before, darlin’, that there would fall into the category of my personal property,” Brody told the overzealous female fan as he removed her hand from his ass. Again. He tempered his action with a practiced smile. “I’d hate to have to restrain you with a double chicken wing.”
Damn if she didn’t look eager for him to give it a try.
His agent’s words, a constant redundant reminder, flashed through his mind. Give the fans what they want, whatever they want. Keep them happy and they’ll keep you and me living the good life.
So he added a flirtatious wink and said, “Maybe some other time.”
Problem was, after seven years in the business, his definition of “the good life” had changed. Yeah, he made a fantastic income. But there were few places he could go and not be recognized. Wrestling fans who watched him on television, attended his matches and purchased his likeness in toy stores considered him an approachable friend. And they approached...constantly.
Women who followed the circuit wanted the notoriety of being seen with him, and would do anything for the opportunity. While respectable women like Emma Masters judged him and found him lacking without ever giving him a chance.
Which is why, after overhearing Emma and Sadie discussing Emma’s upcoming birthday blind date surprise, he’d approached Sadie about getting in on the celebration. So he could introduce Emma to the real Brody, a nice, smart, regular guy. So he could woo her and warm her up and show her she’d misjudged him.
Convincing Sadie had taken some effort, but she’d come around.
Then he’d learned the terms of the date and he’d started looking forward to it even more.
Brody watched Emma exit the reception room, unsurprised she’d barely spared him a glance. You expect a woman like Emma to fall into your arms without having to work for it?
No. Emma Masters would require some seducing. Brody smiled, looking forward to the challenge.
As she walked some guy latched on to her arm and Brody saw his chance to earn some points playing the hero. But two steps in their direction and on the verge of telling that idiot what he’d do to him if the jerk didn’t get his hands off her—in his loudest, most intimidating voice—Emma pushed him away.
Brody should have expected she could handle herself. There was a reason his fellow wrestlers referred to her as the pit bull of the pediatric ward. Emma didn’t take any crap, remained focused on her task no matter how much they joked or teased or flirted. Over the years, trying to get a rise out of her had become a game he looked forward to playing.
But a few months ago, while hanging around waiting for Samson to catch a few private minutes to hit on Sadie, he’d occupied his time by watching Emma, noticing her softer side for the first time. The beautiful, genuine smile she reserved for people who were not wrestlers, apparently. The tender touches and compassionate caresses
