Dominic pulled a U-turn in the middle of a busy intersection, barely registering the chorus of honking cars. He was a man on a mission, and five minutes later he dropped his keys into the valet's hand—something he usually never did, with a car as valuable as his—then stopped the elevator doors from closing with his forearm.

Several people muttered their discontent at being held up, but when they realized who he was, their frowns turned to smiles. A couple of women "accidentally" rubbed up against him. It was par for the course, and usually he wasn't bothered by the attention, but this afternoon it irritated him.

He wasn't interested in being a football hero today. He was focused on only one thing.

He pushed through the McKnight Agency's double doors and made a beeline for Melissa's cubi cle. She wasn't there. Shit. Jenny ran down the hall toward him.

"Are you looking for Melissa?"

He nodded and her eyes widened.

"Wow, she's really popular all of a sudden."

A surge of possessiveness rose inside him. "How so?"

"Well, first you came and took her to lunch, and then JP came to see her, and now you're back again." JP Jesse.

Dominic was going to kill the little punk. If he so much as laid a hand on Melissa, he wouldn't live to play another game.

"Where are they?"

Jenny looked surprised by his curt question. But visions of Melissa and JP naked together skipped through his head, and his fists clenched.

"JP wanted to watch some film while he waited for her to come back, and she joined him a few minutes ago."

Fuck. Melissa and JP were in a small, dark room together. Lord only knew what tricks that little prick was trying with her. Dominic didn't know him well—they were of different generations—but he'd heard enough stories. JP was the kind of guy who f**ked anything that moved. And Dominic knew firsthand the kind of temptation she presented—even to a guy like him, who usually knew how to keep his dick in his pants.

Tom should never have passed JP off to Melissa. She wasn't savvy enough to defend herself against someone as wily—and charming, not to mention good-looking—as JP. He'd have to do it for her.

Dominic barged into the room without knocking and flicked on the lights.

Both Melissa and JP covered their eyes with their hands.

"What the hell?" JP said as he looked up and saw the large figure in the doorway. "Dominic, dude, turn the lights back off. You're blinding us."

But Dominic was out for blood. Ignoring JP altogether, he faced Melissa. " Do you know what people are going to say when they find out you've been in here alone with JP?"

"I'm his agent, that's what they'll think."

Dominic laughed, a short, angry bark of a sound. "Bullshit. They'll think you're just another one of his floozies, throwing yourself at him."

"Floozies?" JP interjected. "Damn, I haven't heard that word since I was a kid. How old are you, Dom? Fifty? Sixty?"

A low growl emerged from Dominic's throat. "Old enough to know how to conduct my business the right way."

JP shrugged. "I know you think you're her bodyguard, or whatever, but nothing's going on. Yet. So chill out."

Dominic clenched his jaw in an effort to control himself. The "yet" nearly pushed him over the edge. He couldn't be rational right now, couldn't stand the sight of Melissa sitting so close to a good-looking, young playboy.

Being with Melissa had flipped right and wrong around for him, but some things were still clear: He couldn't let her make the mistake of hooking up with a threat like JP.

Instantly slipping into the smooth persona he'd played so well all these years, he said, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to steal your agent away for a while, JP."

For the first time, Melissa looked angry. "I've already helped you enough for one day, Dominic."

His gut twisted. She thought all he wanted from her was a quick f**k. She was wrong—at least he thought she was. Shit, his head was playing games with him. What the hell had he been about to say?

"They're breaking ground on the new ballpark in my name this afternoon."

"So?"

"You're my agent. I need you to be there."

JP looked at her. "You're working with him, too?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm thinking about it."

"That rocks, babe. Teams will take you way more seriously if you're also repping Dominic. Even if your daddy-O gave him the boot 'cause he's ancient," he added tactlessly.

Dominic didn't feel the need to defend himself to someone who'd ridden a wave of luck into the pros, rather than skill. He'd already dug his own grave.

But if JP was screwed, so was Melissa. Somehow, he'd have to figure out a way to help JP for Melissa's sake.

"I've heard enough from both of you right now." She pointed a finger at JP. "You may call me Melissa, or Ms. McKnight. Not 'babe.' " Then she got up and stood in front of Dominic, anger etched into her face. "I don't appreciate what you just did," she said in a low voice. "Not at all. But I intend to do my job, and my father already marked the event on my calendar. As his assistant—not your agent."

Chapter Thirteen

Concentrating on putting together a spreadsheet of teams that might be interested in JP, Melissa was taken by surprise when her father entered her cubicle and sat down on the edge of her desk. "How are things going with JP?" She gestured to the growing stack of papers beside her computer. "We've had a preliminary meeting, and I'm researching the best teams for him. I need to watch some game tapes and get a better feel for his playing style. We're meeting again tomorrow morning to discuss immediate, short-, and long-range plans for his career. I'll probably set up a showcase once we've worked through his issues."

"I see." He paused before going into the real reason he'd stopped by. "I still find it hard to believe that Dominic is interested in working with you. Why the hell would he make a choice like that? Especially since it's been perfectly obvious for years that you have a crush on him. I wonder if he feels sorry for you?"

Melissa had never been so insulted. She narrowed her eyes, more than happy to fight back. "Maybe he caught wind of the fact that you think he's an old hack."

Two red splotches rose on her father's cheeks. "You repeated our private conversation to one of my clients?"

"Of course not," she hissed, mad as hell. "But he's a pretty perceptive guy. It wouldn't take much for him to figure out that your attention has waned."

Tom raised one eyebrow, as arrogant as she'd ever seen him. "Do you actually believe you can do his career justice?"