The Sport of Romance: A Multi-Author Box Set

by Cari Quinn

  A pity. I was quite enjoying the view.

  Sebastian also sat. He regarded her with narrowed eyes, daring her to look away. “Jon told me you recommended me for the power play.”

  Sarah nodded. “You’re a natural fit.”

  “So that’s the reason you did it? I’m a natural fit? There weren’t other guys who should have gotten a shot first instead of the rookie? Or was there another reason you recommended they use me? Tell the truth, Sarah.” He wished he could outright dare her to deny their mutual attraction hadn’t influenced her decision but knew instinctively she’d balk.

  Sarah stared at a point on the wall behind him. The musk from her sweat so close caused his libido to announce its presence with a vengeance. It was always like this when she was near him, and it was getting harder and harder not to act on it. He was positive her feelings for him had played a part in her advocating of him, but doubted she’d just up and confess it.

  Turning back to him, Sarah spoke in a cool, controlled voice. “I was doing what was best for the team. It’s that simple.”

  Stop lying to me. Stop lying to yourself. He could scream from the sexual frustration he had been harboring for months. She was driving him crazy, and if he didn’t leave her office soon, he was liable to put her over her desk and have his way with her.

  That sounded like a pretty damn good idea. Sebastian was not buying her explanation, but instead of calling her on it, he let his gaze travel back down her body to her breasts once more. Her jacket had fallen open since she hadn’t zipped it, but now she jerked up the zipper to her neck. It was useless to try to hide her body from him—he had the image of her imprinted on his brain. He shifted to quell the ever-increasing bulge between his legs.

  Sebastian gazed into her eyes again, running his tongue over his lips on purpose. Her pupils dilated. Yeah, he affected her.

  Her hands vaguely gestured to herself as she said, “I was just running.”

  Sebastian nodded, cocking his head. “You have a bad knee. You’re not supposed to run.”

  “How did you know about my knee?” The question came out like an accusation, as if he’d been spying on her or something else equally ridiculous, but he ignored the tone.

  “You told me about it when we went out to eat that night. Our first date, remember?” He raised an eyebrow. Presumably she remembered. How could she forget the event that had put all of this in motion?

  “I just wanted to run, that’s all. Did you need anything else?”

  Her attempt at dismissing him was a dismal failure. He wasn’t going that easily. Sebastian rose and ambled around to her side of the desk, leaning against it as he regarded her. His groin was at her eye level and her gaze flicked to it a couple of times.

  Good. See how you affect me.

  “I heard you broke up with Dan. And I don’t believe the only reason you suggested putting me on power play was for the good of the team, but since you continue to deny there’s this thing, whatever it is, between us,” he motioned to her and then back toward himself. “I’ll just say thanks.”

  He bent until his mouth was a mere breath from hers. She stared at it, her chest heaving. If he didn’t kiss her soon, he was going to lose his mind.

  Of course, if he did kiss her, he’d lose his mind anyway, just like he did every time he touched her.

  “What do you want?” Her voice broke on the last word and she closed her eyes.

  Sebastian’s heart went out to her. He didn’t like to see her hurting. “Sarah, stop running. Don’t fight this.

  “We’re both in hell, and it is not going to go away, no matter how hard you try to ignore it,” he continued, his voice thick and raspy. “I think you broke up with Dan because he wasn’t me. I know how cocky that sounds, but I think it’s the truth. Go ahead and deny it. I know you want to.”

  Her eyes flew open, but he put a finger over her lips. Standing once more, Sebastian muttered a bunch of swear words in French then left Sarah’s office before he did something he might regret.

  He had wanted to kiss her, to hold her in the worst way, but she was clearly struggling with her attraction to him and he didn’t want to do anything to endanger any feelings she was developing. No matter how hard it was, he needed to bide his time.

  That didn’t mean he had to stay away from her, though, and he had no intention of doing so.

  Chapter Nine

  It was tradition for the Storm players, coaches, and off-ice staff to hold a Secret Santa exchange for Christmas. Because of their travel schedule, the holiday party would be on December fourteenth. It wouldn’t be a big, fancy affair, but rather a small, informal gathering in the arena’s private party room.

  Sarah had gotten a Finnish defenseman, Fredrik Kuusi, for the exchange. She jumped on the Internet and discovered that in Finland they served herring at the start of the Christmas meal. Since he couldn’t be in Finland for the holidays, she’d bring a bit of the holiday to him. After more searching, she found a recipe for herring prepared in the traditional way.

  “Now all I have to do is find some herring. Piece of cake. No big deal,” she mumbled as she sat in her office hunting for a gourmet food shop. The results showed one that stocked herring in a suburb about a half hour away from the arena.

  While she got ready the next day, she considered perhaps herring she prepared herself wasn’t the best choice for a Secret Santa. She highly doubted any of the guys would’ve gone to the trouble of searching the Internet for and then actually preparing a native Finnish recipe. Plus, there was another problem. The fish was very…fragrant. Some of the players would probably use different terminology.

  After wrapping the dish in a shopping bag so it wouldn’t spill, she drove to the arena and parked then carefully carried the bag inside. Even with the container closed tight and the bag, the smell still emanated.

  Nikolai held the elevator door open for her with his foot while he juggled his own package. They got on, and after a few seconds, Nikolai sniffed the air. In his adorably broken English, he asked, “What the hell you have in bag? Rotting fish?” Sarah winced at his description, knowing the reactions to her gift would get worse when everyone else smelled it. “You not like person you got for Santa? You give him something dead?”

  Sarah smiled. The poor guy looked terrified. “I like the person fine, and he’ll enjoy my present. That’s all I’m saying.” It was kind of fun to mess with the guys’ heads.

  “Okay,” Nikolai drawled, but grinned at her as they got off the elevator. “See you in there.”

  Sarah placed the herring on the table before anyone else had a chance to ask her about it. Stopping to grab a drink, she chose a bottle of white wine standing in an ice bucket, no doubt there solely for her, then poured a glass.

  She was joined by Nikolai, who said, “I keep your secret, don’t worry. It might cost. What you call it? Eh…bribe? Maybe I ask for kiss.”

  Sarah knew better than to take the incorrigible flirt seriously, so she snorted. “You wish. Besides, you have a girlfriend. You know, Natalia?”

  Laughing together, she and Nikolai walked over to a group of guys who were assembled around a table talking about Christmas plans. Sebastian came in with Rob and both of them set their presents down on the gift table, grabbed beers, and joined the festivities, which had now stretched to include three tables of rowdy partygoers all talking over each other to be heard.

  With Rob on his other side, Sebastian sat down next to Sarah. He was as mouthwatering as ever in tight jeans that hugged his muscular thighs and a dress shirt with an extra button open at the top. She yearned to see more.

  The guys didn’t seem bothered about walking around barely clothed in front of her. She had seen Sebastian’s finely-chiseled chest and six-pack abs, plus those two tattoos she was dying to ask about but didn’t dare, in the locker room more than once, but somehow her knowledge of his body didn’t diminish the thrill. She wanted in the worst way to rip that shirt to shreds and put her greedy hands all over him.
>
  Sebastian’s individual male scent permeated her nostrils with every breath, and she fought to keep her mind away from the personal porno playing on a loop inside her head of her licking that scent from his skin. With no small amount of difficulty, she forced her attention back to the conversation.

  Sebastian leaned in and whispered, “Joyeux Noël. Merry Christmas.”

  She smiled and then went around his back to say Merry Christmas to Rob. That was a mistake. Her breast brushed Sebastian’s arm and he stiffened as waves of heat pulsing off his body blanketed Sarah. Her hand crept up to touch him, but she forced it back to her lap.

  How was she supposed to keep things professional when she didn’t have another outlet for the surge of need she experienced every time she was in his presence?

  She shook her head at her own foolishness. Even having another outlet, in the form of Dan, hadn’t worked. It hadn’t even scratched the surface of that need.

  Sebastian was staring at her mouth. She shifted in the uncomfortable chair, but couldn’t relieve the pressure flowing to her sex. When her leg rubbed against his under the table, she let out a very un-ladylike curse, and several of the guys swung to stare at her.

  “What?” she demanded, her voice coming out much louder than she’d intended, but no one questioned her further. There was no way she was going to chance checking what Sebastian’s reaction to her outburst was, but she could hear Rob snickering. Sebastian scooted his chair back a bit and she glared at Rob, but he grinned and she couldn’t stay mad.

  “Merry Christmas, Rob.” She indicated the elaborately wrapped gift he’d placed on the table earlier. “That’s quite a package you’ve got there.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth she started to repeat her curse from earlier but caught herself just in time. The guys were going to think she was losing it if she kept this up.

  Rob smirked as if he was considering a filthy comeback then glanced at Sebastian. “I love Christmas, so I go all-out. Ask Sebastian.”

  Sebastian rolled his eyes, but the effect was lessened by his expression, one of rueful indulgence. Then he grinned at her and her breath caught.

  When he unleashed that killer smile, he was a force to be reckoned with. She’d seen countless girls and women throw themselves at him just because he’d smiled in their general direction. Of course, he was nothing but polite in return, but everywhere the team went, Sebastian left a wake of broken hearts behind. That damn smile had the same effect on her though, so despite the irrational need to tear every single one of those girls apart, she couldn’t blame them for their behavior.

  “You should see it. It’s unreal. Our entire house is filled with Christmas crap.” Rob protested that it was his house, not their house, and he was only letting Sebastian stay there because he was such a nice guy, but Sebastian ignored him, turning in his chair to focus on Sarah. “I mean, I like Christmas as much as the next guy, but he goes overboard. With garlands, wreaths, three trees, and enough lights to keep the dead awake, it’s like Christmas threw up in there.”

  Sarah laughed at the assessment and the image it brought up. “Really? I find it hard to believe Rob would go overboard on anything. He’s the picture of good taste.” Rob stuck his tongue out at her, but she continued. “I haven’t even put up a tree. I doubt I’ll bother with so little time until Christmas.”

  Rob’s mouth fell open in shock. “No tree? You’re kidding me! You’ve gotta have a tree!”

  “Well, it’s not easy lugging a big ole’ tree into the house and setting it up when you’re a single woman living alone—well, aside from my renters—and besides, who would care if I put one up?”

  Sarah could see Rob’s mind working and she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to know what his overly creative imagination was concocting. He didn’t leave her in suspense for long though.

  “Tell you what, after the exchange, Sebastian and I will change and go get you a tree. We’ll even get a stand and come set it up for you. She’s got to have a tree, eh?” Rob, a small, evil smile playing up the sides of his mouth, regarded Sebastian.

  Sebastian glared at Rob for a moment but said nothing.

  Sarah panicked. No way could she have these guys in her house. Seeing Sebastian every day was bad enough, but to deal with him in an intimate setting like her house?

  Might as well tag and bag me. There would be no way she’d live through the ordeal.

  “Guys, thanks for the kind offer, but you don’t have to do that. It’s no big deal.”

  Rob wouldn’t be dissuaded though and continued to insist she had to have a tree. She was mercifully saved from giving a final answer when Scott, dressed in a Santa costume, sauntered into the room, followed by several staff members bearing loads of brightly wrapped gifts.

  Scott grabbed his fake tummy. “Merry Christmas!” he roared. “Before we do the Secret Santa, I have a few gifts for everybody. They’re all the same, so everyone gets a big one and a small one, including on- and off-ice staff.”

  Inside each large box from Scott was a framed Storm team picture from that season. The Storm had done the traditional team picture, but this one had been taken by a photographer hired to take shots of the players in street clothes. Those black-and-white images hung along the concourses of the arena and featured each player by himself. The thinking had been that fans would better identify with the players if they knew what they looked like without their helmets and other paraphernalia.

  The photographer had also come to practice one day in early November and taken the group picture, which now hung as a mural stretching across the walkway between the parking garage and arena, of the team and staff as they leaned against or sat on the boards. The players had removed their jerseys to keep with the laid-back theme of the picture. Some sported pads or one of the ubiquitous Storm shirts or hats they were given to wear to publicize the team. Others had on the ratty stuff they wore underneath their jerseys to practice.

  Everyone was laughing and talking in small groups, many of them not even looking at the camera. The casualness of the scene gave the picture a very cool, artsy feel, if you could say that about a picture of a bunch of hockey players. She, of course, looked like a dork next to all the guys, but she loved the picture anyway.

  After that, they all opened the smaller presents. Inside were an iPod and a gift card to iTunes. Everyone laughed when they saw the iPods had already been loaded with a few choice songs like “We are the Champions,” “Another One Bites the Dust,” “Welcome to the Jungle,” “Enter Sandman,” “Eye of the Tiger,” and others Jordan played before games, as well as the team’s official music score, the sound of the goal horn, and a compilation of calls from their iconic play-by-play announcer.

  The guys appeared surprised to receive the iPods, and expressed their thanks to Scott as he did the rounds through the tables. The team’s previous owners, being the thieving bastards they were, never would’ve done something like this, and Sarah was sure the players were touched by Scott’s thoughtfulness.

  Jordan and Rick, who had appointed themselves the elves for the party, grabbed the Secret Santa gifts off the table and distributed them. Sarah smirked at an image in her mind’s eye of the hulking Rick in an elf costume. It was hard to say if it would be amusing or nightmare-inducing.

  Sarah’s present was a small envelope, most likely bearing a gift certificate, which didn’t surprise her in the least. As the lone female among the hockey operations staff, she doubted any of the guys would’ve had a clue about what to get her.

  Ignoring her own gift for the moment, Sarah kept an eye on Fredrik, who was staring at the shopping bag Jordan had gingerly set on the table while making exaggerated retching sounds. Finally, Frederik opened the bag and a smile lit up his face. The other players seated with him moved their chairs to the opposite side of the table, teasing him about the stench.

  She waited until Fredrik reached in and pulled out the Tupperware container. He opened it, much to the chagrin of his tablemates, and
then dipped a finger into the sauce. He grinned and nodded, and Sarah could see his mind working about who would’ve done something like that.

  Sarah turned away before he could line up suspects and opened her own gift. As she’d suspected, a gift certificate to a local mall was inside. Sensing someone’s eyes on her, she glanced up to see Ben looking at her, a small smile playing over his face.

  Ah, the culprit. Sarah guessed his wife, Jaela, was behind the gift. Otherwise, God only knew what she would’ve ended up with. She could imagine what Rick would’ve given her—a wrench, new floor mats for her car with a zebra pattern, a boa constrictor—she shuddered to even think about it.

  Sarah watched other people open their presents. Marc got a bottle of high-end whiskey, Rick received a bunch of CDs, and Jon got a “Coaching for Dummies” book and a new set of markers for the white board located in the locker room. The players had affectionately dubbed the large dry-erase board that spanned one entire wall in the locker room “The Bible.”

  Rob opened a set of cufflinks with the monogram “DON”—his nickname, given to him because of the flashy suits he wore. With his short, stocky physique, he could pass for a convincing mob hit man. He was a gym rat, and he was built like a tank, with a thick neck and well-muscled shoulders tapering down to a smaller waist. Considering he was well under six feet tall, being stocky was the only way he could survive in the rough-and-tumble world of the NHL.

  Sebastian was the last at their table to open his gift, and, upon seeing the contents, murmured, “Mon Dieu.” With wide eyes, he stared at the box. His present was a Hustler magazine, some lubricating lotion, and several porno DVDs. Sarah guessed it was part of the unofficial year-long rookie hazing program the guys on the hockey team appeared to adhere to.