by Maria Luis
Shaelyn glared up at him, not the least bit pacified by the mischievous glint in his blue eyes. His thumbs stroked her collarbone. Once, twice. If she’d been a weaker woman, she would have curled into his embrace. “You should arrest yourself.”
“For what?”
“For being an ass.”
His head dipped, his breath a whisper against her ear. Goosebumps teased her flesh. “You gonna do it yourself? Maybe buy a pair of new ’cuffs from that party tonight and put them to good use on me?”
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Preview of Power Play: Blades Hockey
Love sexy hockey players? Keep reading for a sneak peek of Power Play, the first book in the Blades Hockey series. This is an insta-hate/insta-lust romantic comedy that will keep you laughing and turning the e-pages.
“So, Duke, does that mean mixing business with pleasure is accepted within the Blades’ organization?”
His frown deepens. “Gwen and I aren’t—”
“What he’s trying to say is that we’re a team, Charlie. We look out for each other, and make a sound decision on whether a tabloid photo or an interview—whatever—is beneficial to Duke’s overall career before rolling with it.”
There’s a hidden message if I ever heard one. I just haven’t quite uncovered all of the subtleties yet. Somehow, I imagine that those subtleties are lined with unsheathed knives.
I put down my fork and knife. “So, an interview with a local news publication. Would that be completely off the table?”
Duke drains his beer.
Caleb excuses himself to make a “very important phone call.”
And Gwen . . . Gwen just turns to me with such a serene smile on her face that I’m reminded of my twenty-one year old self, who thought Gwen James was the coolest girl ever. Thankfully, I no longer suffer from such delusions.
“Is that a hint that you’d like The Cambridge Tribune to interview Duke?” she asks smoothly. Her smile might be wide and guileless, but the same cannot be said for her narrowed eyes.
I hold her gaze. “It was just a thought. The Tribune’s fan base doesn’t read Sports Illustrated or other, more well known publications.” I’m lying through my teeth, not that I care. “I just think that it would be nice for some of our locals to see a side of their favorite hockey player from their favorite newspaper.”
“I don’t think so.” That’s all she says before her phone rings and she’s forced to step away from the table to take the call.
Which effectively leaves Duke and I alone, seated side by side.
We’re facing a wall and neither of us turns to look at the other for long, heavy moments. Even so, I can feel his presence beside me as tangibly as if he’d pressed his knee to mine. I’m tempted to do just that, to slide my right leg just two inches over and touch him. But his body is rigid, his left hand curled tightly around the cutlery.
In fact, he might not be breathing.
“So,” I murmur, taking a sip of my wine, “you and Gwen?”
He blows out a breath of frustrated air. “You’re slick, Charlie Denton. I’ll give you that.”
I keep my gaze fixated on the wall. “Not enjoying our double date, Mr. Harrison?”
He leans forward and, oh God, his knee is now touching my bare leg. Shivers chase down my spine, and the thrill has nothing to do with the food in front of me and has everything to do with the man at my side.
“This date is a sham and we both know it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I sniff. “Caleb and I—”
“Are not together,” he finishes in clipped tones. “Let’s not even pretend that he’s remotely interested in you. I walked up to you both, and his gaze went immediately to my crotch.”
Ah, hell. I can’t even blame Caleb for that reaction. Anyone with a pair of eyes would have a hard time keeping their gaze above the belt when it came to the man seated beside me. Duke Harrison just has that magical effect on people.
“He swings both ways,” I say, offering up another healthy lie. “Obviously he was just struck dumb by your presence.”
“A presence you ensured would happen when you reached out to Gwen.” His voice is a growl, and hearing it sends a flicker of awareness through my body. Is this how he sounds in bed?
I ignore the flutters in my belly. “Do you want me to be honest?”
The exaggerated wave of his left hand snags my attention, and I finally turn to him. He’s already watching me, I find, and his blue eyes are nearly a dusky black. “That’d be a nice change of pace.”
My eyes fix on his handsome face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He plants a hand on the table and leans in, invading my personal bubble. This close, I can see that he has a scattering of light freckles spattered across the crests of his cheeks, as well as a deep, pink scar that extends from his left nostril to the corner of his mouth. My lips part on the breath I’ve been holding, and Duke’s gaze drops down to my mouth.
“It means,” he says in a low, rumbling voice, “that you play dirty.”
“No, it just means that I play to win.”
Almost despite himself, his mouth kicks up in a wry grin. “Like I said, dirty.” He breaks eye contact and slouches back in his seat. “The answer is still no.”
“Because Gwen said so?” Now it’s my turn to plant my hand on the table and lean forward.
Chin tucked to his chest, he lifts his gaze to my face. That one look is potent. Sultry. Dangerous. It’s a very obvious reminder that while he might be playing nice with me right now, this is a man who is generally feared on the ice.
I lower my voice, mainly to conceal the quiver I fear will emerge when I speak. The way he is affecting me is so not in the plan. “Is it because you do everything she says, even if you two aren’t together? You sure she isn’t secretly your girlfriend? Oh, wait, I do believe I hear wedding bells ringing.”
He ignores my blatant taunting and plays it cool, reaching for his beer bottle and touching the glass to his mouth. He’s on empty, if I recall correctly, but perhaps for the sake of our battle of the wits, he doesn’t let on that anything is amiss. This almost makes me grin, because who knew little ol’ Charlie Denton from Cambridge, Massachusetts, could throw off the big, bad Mountain?
“You were saying?” I prompt with a little I’ve-got-this grin.
“How badly do you want this interview?”
Badly. And now that I’ve had the chance to speak to him alone, I’m craving more contact. It’s completely unreasonable, seeing as how we exist on two very different planes.
Him: professional athlete.
Me: struggling journalist.
Nevertheless, I tell him, “I’m not willing to go to jail over this, but yeah, I need this interview to happen.”
His left brow arches high. “Even though I’m ‘overrated’?”
Now my grin is full-fledged. “We’re all overrated in some capacity, don’t you think, Mr. Harrison?”
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Acknowledgments
It’s crazy to think that the Blood Duet is now complete! (I’m not ready to let it go - I love Lincoln & Avery way too much!) In all truth, though, I can’t even begin to express all of my thank-you’s for DEFIED. When this book threatened to do me in, my friends and family brought me right back up and keep me afloat.
As always, this book wouldn’t have been possible without my amazing team:
-Najla, girl, these covers are everything! Thank you for being you, and for always rocking it out. You are the best.
- Kathy, I’m so thankful to have met you. Thank you for being the best editor a girl could ever want, and for always supporting me. I’m so, so lucky to have you.
- Tandy, thank you for making this book sparkle!
- Tina, I couldn’t do this without
you. Thank you for keeping my butt in line, and for making sure I’m alive/eating/sleeping/stepping away from the computer. You are amazing.
- To my beta readers, Brenda and Viper - your endless support means everything to me! Especially when you see my book in its unedited form, and still don’t judge, LOL. I love you!!
- To my VIPers, y’all are the foundation of my career. This author business wouldn’t be possible without you, and I’m so lucky to have you all on this journey with me.
- BBA: This book is for you. Thank you for encouraging me to write it, for showing Lincoln & Avery all the love. Without you, this duet wouldn’t even exist.
- To every blogger, reviewer, or reader who passed on word about DEFIED and told your friends about this book or took the time to write a review, I can never say thank you enough. It means the world to me, and I send so many virtual hugs!
- And to you, Dear Reader, thank you for making my author dream a reality. There are no other words, but thank you.
Much love,
Maria Luis
Also by Maria Luis
NOLA Heart Series
Say You’ll Be Mine
Take A Chance On Me
Dare You To Love Me
Tempt Me With Forever
Blades Hockey Series
Power Play
Sin Bin
Hat Trick
a Love Serial
Breathless (.99c)
Blood Duet
Sworn
Defied
About the Author
Maria Luis is the author of the sexy NOLA Heart and Blades Hockey series.
Historian by day and romance novelist by night, Maria lives in New Orleans, and loves bringing the city's cultural flair into her books. When Maria isn't frantically typing with coffee in hand, she can be found binging on reality TV, going on adventures with her other half and two pups, or plotting her next flirty romance.
