Bonds of Courage

by Lynda Aicher

  Her phone picked that moment to chime again, reminding her that she had things to do, and contemplating playing with Holden wasn’t one of them.

  “Stand up.”

  He responded immediately. Once again, she caught his cringe and small falter as he stood, favoring his right knee.

  “Why did you kneel if it hurts you?” she snapped, stepping closer. The anger that hissed through her wasn’t justified. She had no responsibility for him, professional or personal. But he shouldn’t be kneeling if it hurt him. None of this was worth risking injury.

  “It’s not that bad.” He frowned then added, “I wanted to please you.”

  “Well, that doesn’t please me.”

  “Really? Then tell me what will.”

  Another chime had her spinning away to grab her work phone from her desk. It was an easy distraction that got her out of answering him. Because in reality, there was probably a hell of a lot he could do to please her. Too much.

  The second and third chimes had come from her personal phone, so she checked that next. There were two texts from Liv, requesting that Vanessa come early and to see if she could grab some used hockey sticks from the arena. Like there were dozens of them lying around for Vanessa to claim.

  She snatched up her work phone to find a text from Angie, reminding her of the meeting she’d scheduled with a news reporter in forty minutes. Shit. There was no way she’d be able to buy a bunch of hockey sticks before heading to the Glaciers’s office for the other stuff.

  Looking up, she found the answer to her problems. It was like the Universe had sent him over to help her. She smiled, a slow-growing one that would’ve had any submissive she’d played with begging for mercy. Only Holden didn’t know her well enough to be wary. “You want to please me?”

  “Yes, Mistress.” Zero hesitation. At some point in the past two weeks, Mr. Hauke had found his balls and decided to own them. There was something attractive in that.

  “All right.” She caught his grin before she looked down to swipe through her phone in search of her sister’s work address. She wrote it down, along with the name of her contact at the Glaciers’s office. Walking around her desk, she extended the paper to Holden. “Here. My schedule’s packed today and one of my clients backed out of a commitment for me.”

  “Who?”

  “It doesn’t matter. But it can be your gain.” She waved the paper at him. “Here’s the address of the place where he was supposed to make an appearance and talk to kids about hockey. It’s at noon, but you need to stop by the Glaciers’s offices and pick up some promotional items and also go to the sporting goods store by their building and buy twenty hockey sticks, kid sizes. Charge it to my account there.”

  “You have an account at a sporting goods store?” The doubt on his face was quickly wiped away at her glare.

  “Of course I do. I rep athletes. You have no idea how many bribes I have to buy every year.” One of the first things she did after signing a new client was to have him autograph a few dozen jerseys, bats, balls or hockey sticks. Thankfully, she only repped hockey and baseball players. Their opposing seasons kept her schedule somewhat sane.

  He took the paper, glancing at it before looking back to her. “If I do this, will you be my Mistress?”

  “No.”

  He sighed. “Then why should I do this for you?”

  “Do you have plans today?”

  A short pause. “Not until four.”

  “Then there’s no reason you can’t do this. It’ll be good PR for you and it helps me.”

  He widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. He was getting ready to negotiate. She could see that a mile away.

  “No,” she said to head him off.

  “What?”

  “No. I’m not negotiating.” She had to force back her smile at his annoyed scowl.

  “Damn,” he mumbled. “You’re better than my mother.”

  “If you’re looking for one of those, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

  “God, no.”

  The disgust that crossed his face was too funny not to laugh this time. She let a chuckle roll out, the mood changing that quickly when he joined her.

  “Trust me,” he said around his low laughter. “I do not want you to be my mother.”

  “Good to know.” She gestured toward the paper he was still holding. “So will you do that for me?”

  “Tell me who screwed you over.”

  It wasn’t in her to badmouth her clients, but it wouldn’t be hard for him to figure out who it was. It wasn’t like her client list was a secret. “Grenick. But,” she interjected when he opened his mouth to speak. “It doesn’t matter. This is a free opportunity for excellent PR. Go make something out of it.”

  He studied the paper before shoving it into his pocket. “What am I supposed to do?”

  God, she could kiss him. The relief of not having to deal with that crisis was enormous. Plus her sister would owe her when a Glaciers’s player showed up with a car full of gifts. “It’s a youth center for low-income kids. Just talk to the kids about hockey and how you made it to the pros. Maybe play a little floor hockey with them, that kind of thing.”

  “That’s it?” He looked skeptical.

  “Yeah. No cameras or big publicity on this one. Just a nice little community event.”

  He scoffed. “No wonder Grenick bailed.”

  Vanessa bit her lip to keep from commenting. The Glaciers’s defenseman’s desire for the spotlight was well-known. But then, that was exactly why Grenick had hired her.

  She debated on telling him the rest but decided he’d find out anyway. “It’s kind of a favor too for my little sister. Vivian runs the center.”

  “Oh?”

  “Don’t even think about hitting on her.” Her momma bear came out quickly. She’d practically raised Liv and there was no way Vanessa was letting any athlete near her. They were all playboys with a woman in every city. It didn’t matter if they were married. They all cheated at some point. It was practically part of the pro-athlete code of conduct.

  “Do you have a really low opinion of athletes in general?” He scowled. “Or is it just me?”

  “I live and breathe sports and athletes all day. I know too much about both to trust either.”

  He moved closer to her, his height causing her to look up, but she wasn’t stepping back. His blue eyes seemed darker as they peered into her. “Is that why? Because I’m a professional athlete?”

  “Why what?” The deep scent of his cologne was playing havoc on her thoughts, which was stupid.

  “Why you won’t be my Mistress?”

  She could lie, but why? “It’s one of the reasons.”

  “I can’t change what I do, but that doesn’t mean I’m like everyone else.”

  It was her turn to scoff. “Right. So you mean to tell me you’ve never fucked a puck bunny? Never accepted the offer of the dozens of jersey chasers in every city who are willing to do whatever you want just so they can say they slept with an athlete?”

  He looked away.

  “That’s what I thought.” She turned back to her desk, the confirmation stinging more than it should.

  “Oh, come on.” He groaned. “You said never. I’ve been playing hockey my whole life. I’ve been in the pros since I was twenty-three. I’m single. There’s no way any male could turn down all the tail begging to be had.”

  She shook her head and started placing folders in her bag. “I’m not one of those naive women you’re used to.”

  He released a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t slept with a girl in almost two months.”

  “A man then?”

  “A what...” He scowled, his brows drawing hard over his eyes. “No,” he said, the disgust clear.


  “You’re not a homophobe, are you?”

  “What?” His flustered scrambling almost put the smile back on her face. “No.” He shook his head. “What does that have to do with us?”

  “Nothing,” she said, zipping her briefcase closed. “And everything.” She stuffed her phones in the front pocket, swung the strap over her shoulder and flashed him a cool smile as she walked past him. “Good luck today. Let me know if you have any problems.” She was in the outer office passing Angie’s desk when Holden finally responded.

  “I don’t have your number.” His deep voice got louder as he followed her into the reception area.

  Vanessa checked her watch. “Angie can give it to you.” She looked to her assistant. “The white one.”

  Angie tilted her head but didn’t question Vanessa’s request. Giving out her personal number wasn’t something Vanessa did very often. But she wasn’t stupid. This discussion wasn’t done and it didn’t fall under business. She could’ve given him the number for the red phone, but this wasn’t club-related either. Not anymore.

  She turned back to Holden. “Leave your cell number with Angie.” Then she was out the door and down the short hallway to the elevator. The wait was thankfully short, and she breathed a small sigh of relief when the elevator doors swooshed closed.

  His persistence was flattering, but he was far from the first submissive to beg for her attention. He’d get bored and move on before long. Athletes didn’t like the word no. If he was serious about playing with her, he’d prove it to her.

  And then they’d just have to see what happened.

  Chapter Six

  “Can you come back, Mr. Hauke?”

  Holden grinned at the chirpy-voiced boy who looked up at him with a mix of hope and adoration in his eyes. How am I supposed to say no to that?

  A chorus of pleas had Holden laughing and ruffling the damp hair of the instigator. They were all a bit sweaty after playing floor hockey in the hot gym for the last hour. “We’ll see, Squirt.”

  “It’s Jimmy. But Squirt’s cool.” He grinned at the boy next to him. Neither of them could’ve been more than eight or nine years old.

  The youth center director clapped her hands in a rhythmic beat that had the magical effect of getting the twenty or so kids to go quiet. Their easy obedience was just one of the many instances of respect he’d seen the kids give Vivian, or Liv, as she’d corrected him.

  “Let’s thank Mr. Hauke for coming today.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hauke,” rang out in off-key harmony.

  Holden grinned, giving a salute to the kids.

  “And for donating the sticks and pucks to the youth center,” Liv added. Another round of “thank yous” followed before Liv added, “Does anyone have any last questions for Mr. Hauke before he leaves?”

  “Can we come to a game sometime?” The question came from Jimmy. The spunky kid had a fearless streak that’d made him a terror during the floor-hockey game but could just as easily lead him astray. Maybe this youth center would keep the kid from getting into too much trouble.

  “Mr. Hauke is a very busy man,” Liv answered for him. “Let’s be thankful for the time he’s shared with us.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Holden answered Jimmy, meaning it. Getting game tickets for the kids wouldn’t be a hardship. “The season doesn’t start until October though.”

  A tall girl with freckles across her nose and a messy ponytail spoke up. “What are you doing this summer?” She’d been an avid listener and a quick learner when it’d come time to play the game.

  Holden wiped the moisture from his brow and smiled at her. “I took about a month off once the season was done, but now it’s back to practicing both on and off the ice. I have workouts scheduled every morning with the team trainer and ice time in the afternoon with some other players. Then I’ll be attending some training camps in late July and August to get ready for the coming season.”

  “Don’t you ever get a break?” Jimmy’s friend asked, his dismay clear.

  Holden laughed. Sometimes it didn’t feel like it. “Not much. Playing professional hockey is a job, just like any other. But I love playing, so I don’t really think of it as work.”

  “Okay,” Liv cut in before more questions could be raised. “Shelly has snacks ready in the kitchen.” A chorus of cheers went up, and the small gym quickly emptied with a smattering of “Thanks again, Mr. Hauke” and “Good luck this season,” and the best one, “You’re my new favorite player.”

  His smile was genuine when he turned to Vanessa’s little sister. Not that she was little. Liv was a taller replica of her sister. Their features were remarkably similar, right down to the slightly pointed chin and full lips. Liv’s hair appeared shorter, but it was hard to tell with it pulled back in a tail that stopped at her nape. It was also more of a chestnut color than Vanessa’s raven black.

  Liv grinned back, her brown eyes light with happiness. And that was the biggest difference between the two women. Whereas he’d rarely seen Vanessa crack a smile, one hadn’t left Liv’s face. “Thank you so much for doing this,” she said. She took the stick he’d been leaning on and handed over a bottle of water.

  “Not a problem,” he answered before taking a long drink of the cool liquid. He pulled his sweaty shirt away from his skin, drafting in some much-need air. “I enjoyed it.”

  “Well, I think you saw how much they loved it.” She lifted the stick. “You sure you don’t want this one?” It was a senior-sized stick. He’d bought a few along with the twenty-five youth and junior-sized ones.

  “No.” He waved it off. “Keep it for next time.”

  “Next time?”

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “If you’ll have me back.”

  Her infectious smile widened, if that was possible. “Of course. You’re welcome anytime. These kids don’t have a lot of people to look up to.” She walked over to the metal bin along the wall and deposited the hockey stick in with the rest of the shorter ones.

  “That’s too bad.” He’d been lucky to have a solid support structure growing up. He followed her over to a long bench and took a seat next to her. “How’d you get into doing this?”

  She shrugged. “I got a degree in Women’s Studies that was great at giving me a broad perspective on life but did little to help me get a job. I honestly kind of stumbled into the job here, then fell in love with it.” She stared toward the doorway the children had exited through. “Most of them are good kids. They just need a chance at life.” The care and concern came through in her voice.

  “Are they from around this area?” He’d driven through a part of town that’d been new to him. The smaller houses along with their run-down state and the boarded-up businesses spoke to the income level of the neighborhood.

  “Yeah. I’d like to take more, but we’re pretty maxed out.”

  The center was located in what looked to be an old school or maybe a community rec center at one time. The walls were painted a warm yellow and everything was very clean, but the building as a whole had seen better days.

  “Who funds this place?” He’d heard of centers like this but had never really thought about where the money came from or how they stayed open.

  She stood, stretching her arms over her head. He’d have to be blind not to notice the mounds of her breasts where they pushed against the V-neck T-shirt she wore. Her waist was slim, but her hips were rounded more than her sister’s, filling out the jean capris in a curvaceous way that drew a man’s eye.

  And he wasn’t the least bit interested.

  Vanessa was the only woman he’d been attracted to since his visit to The Den. His nights of barhopping with the intent to shove the fascinating Domme from his thoughts had ended in stunning failure.

  “Most of the support comes from donations and fund-raisers.�
� Liv dropped her arms to wipe at the perspiration collected on her brow. “We get some grant money and the city gives us a bit, but other than that, we’re dependent on the good hearts of others.”

  “I guess that explains the lack of air conditioning.” He chuckled at her emphatic head nod. It was only mid-June and the small gym space was sweltering. He couldn’t imagine the kids playing in that room once the summer heat hit.

  “Some of the other rooms aren’t so bad.” She motioned for him to follow as she walked toward an outside exit. “Come on. You should help give out the gear you brought.”

  He stopped. “That was Vanessa’s doing,” he admitted. “I can’t take credit for that.”

  Liv turned in the doorway, a small breeze blowing her hair around. “Someone should, because she certainly won’t.”

  Holden’s bark of laughter echoed off the high ceiling as he followed her outside. “That sounds about right.” He squinted against the bright sunlight and tipped his chin up to catch a bit of the breeze.

  “Are you one of V’s clients?” Liv raised a hand over her eyes and squinted up at him. “I forgot to ask when you arrived. I was just happy someone showed.”

  “No.” He shook his head and stepped to the side to block the sun for her. “I don’t have a publicist. Hopefully, I’ll never need one. I don’t want to be famous. I just want to play hockey.”

  “I get that.” Liv had dropped her hand. She wrinkled her nose and frowned. “I don’t know how V does that job. All of the manipulation would drive me insane.”

  That was the second time Liv had called Vanessa that. “V? Vanessa’s nickname?”

  Liv grinned. “Yup. She’s been V since we were kids. That’s where my nickname comes from too. Liv is short for Little V.” She chuckled. “A cousin tried calling her Big V once. But after her tirade and round of threats, no one ever tried that again.”