Harlequin Superromance February 2016 Box Set

by Anna Sugden

  “Great.” J.B. mimicked wiping the sweat from his brow. “I’m glad we got through that without any bruises or bloodshed.”

  “I can’t promise that’ll be the case if you renege on this, J.B.”

  “I won’t. I know it’s not exactly what you wanted, but I think it’ll work out okay.” His gaze met hers. “I’ll make sure it does.”

  Strangely she could believe he would. “All right.”

  He grinned and then picked up his menu. “Now that’s sorted, I’m starved. What would you like to eat?”

  Despite her earlier concerns, and her intention to leave once their discussion was over, Issy found herself hungry, too. What harm could it do to have a meal with him?

  “I think I’ll give that moussaka a try.”

  * * *

  “CAN I GIVE you a ride home?”

  J.B.’s question, as they walked through the diner, after their meal, shouldn’t have surprised Issy. After a stilted few minutes, while they’d waited for their dinner, they’d both relaxed enough to enjoy their evening. For the next couple of hours they’d forgotten the issues that separated them, as they’d enjoyed each other’s company. It was almost as if they’d been transported back to Antigua.

  Issy had been reminded of how much she’d liked being with J.B. How easy he was to talk to, because he actually listened to her. He respected her opinion, even if it differed from his, yet wasn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with her. She’d forgotten how passionate he was about issues that mattered to him; he hated cheats, in sports or other walks of life, and admired people who were creative and innovative. And how often he made her laugh.

  Under other circumstances, it would have been the perfect date.

  Pushing aside that thought—she really did not want to go there—she smiled. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s only a short walk from here.”

  “It’s dark out. At least let me escort you home.”

  J.B. leaned past her to push open the heavy door. Briefly she felt his hard muscles as they pressed against her from shoulder to thigh. Memories of how she’d run her hands over his smooth, caramel-brown skin popped into her head. She remembered clearly how she’d trailed her tongue over every mound and dip of those same muscles, which had rippled in response to her touch.

  Another couple wanting to enter the diner snapped her back to reality. Issy was grateful for the brisk autumn air that cooled her heated cheeks and reminded her that they weren’t in the romantic tropics, but in down-to-earth New Jersey.

  As the door swung closed behind them, J.B.’s hand settled at the small of her back.

  “That’s really not necessary. I do this all the time. This is a safe town, well-lit and with plenty of traffic and people around.”

  “I’m sure it’s okay, but I’d still prefer to make sure you get home with no problems. Besides, my mom would kill me if she knew I’d let a woman—let alone a pregnant woman—walk home unescorted.”

  She didn’t want to be affected by his corny line or his cheeky smile, but the man was hard to resist. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble with your mother. You’ve probably given the poor woman enough gray hairs already.”

  Issy began walking across the parking lot.

  J.B. fell into step alongside her. “Hey, Mom adores me. I’m her favorite son. She doesn’t tell everyone that because she doesn’t want to upset my brothers, but I know the truth.”

  Issy laughed. “Favorite or not, I bet you’re the one she worries about most. Especially since you don’t live close by.”

  Yeah.” His smile faded. “That’s been hard on her. I haven’t lived at home since I was in my early teens. Like most young hockey-mad kids, I went where I could learn to be the best and stayed with billet families until I came up to the NHL.”

  “You’re kidding. She was okay with you living away so young?”

  “Not okay exactly, but she knew I was never going to turn into a farmer. Mom understood my passion for the ice and enrolled me in the local hockey program. Later, when my coach suggested sending me out west to play in one of the junior leagues, Mom backed my play and convinced my father to let me give it a shot.”

  His mother sounded like a wonderful woman, Issy thought with a touch of envy. “It must have broken her heart to send you away.”

  “My brothers told me she cried after I left. One of the best moments of my life was bringing the Stanley Cup back to our small town and showing it off to everyone.” He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet and handed her a dog-eared picture of him with his arm around a smiling woman with the big, silver trophy in front of them. “Even my brothers will admit I was the favorite son that day.”

  Issy was touched by his obvious love and affection when he spoke about his mother and his brothers. A stark contrast to his attitude toward his father. Was that part of the reason why he didn’t want to be a father himself?

  “It must have been weird living with strangers. Weren’t you homesick?”

  “I missed my mom and my brothers, but I didn’t miss living on the farm. The chores. The hard hand-to-mouth living. I was lucky that my billet families were really nice and made me feel like I belonged. Plus, everyone around me was like me, they lived, ate and breathed hockey. I wasn’t the odd one out anymore.”

  As they walked, J.B. told her stories of his time in billets. Though he spoke fondly of the people he’d lived with, she ached for the young boy who didn’t fit at home and who’d found his place in the world thousands of miles away from his family.

  No wonder he didn’t want any ties or responsibilities. He’d been independent for so long. Hockey had become his family and his home.

  It struck Issy that although their childhoods shared similarities, they’d both had to be self-sufficient from a young age. Both she and J.B. had learned early to focus on their dreams, and they’d had to leave home to get what they’d wanted.

  But just as she and Sapphie had responded differently to the circumstances of their childhoods, so had Issy and J.B. He’d turned out more like Sapphie than her. Eschewing family ties, connections and permanence while striving for his career. Perhaps he’d have been better off with Sapphie.

  Was it wrong to feel a little smug that he hadn’t?

  Besides, if J.B. had wanted her friend, he’d have gone after her. That much she knew for sure about him; he’d have found a way.

  As if this situation with J.B. wasn’t complicated enough. The last thing she needed was to let sympathy cloud the issue, let alone remind her of how attracted she was to the man walking beside her. That was how she’d ended up in this mess in the first place.

  “It was years before I could eat anything with tuna.” J.B. made a gagging sound.

  His billet mother’s tuna-surprise casserole prompted Issy to share the tale of her first attempt at that same dish, when the only things in the store cupboard were gherkins, olives, maraschino cherries and cornflakes. She felt a rush of pleasure when J.B. roared with laughter.

  As they walked through the gates of her complex, Issy began to feel nervous. She stopped and turned to him. “I can make it from here.”

  She tried to forestall any argument by adding, “My building’s straight ahead and you can see my front door.”

  It didn’t work.

  J.B. took her hand and hooked it through his arm. “You’re getting the full-service escort to the door and that’s final.”

  “Pushy, much?”

  “I like to think of it as determined. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you on the last leg of this journey.” His tone was pure drama queen and he struck a pose to match, with the back of his hand against his forehead.

  She laughed. “I don’t think there are wicked villains hiding in the shrubbery. At least, I’ve never spotted anyone tall, dark and dangerous lurking. Hmm. Maybe I should look more carefully, just in case.”

  He squeezed her arm against him in retaliation. “Leave the surveillance of nefarious characters t
o me, my lady. The only tall, dark and dangerous you need to worry about is me.”

  “And that’s supposed to reassure me? That’s like putting the fox in charge of the henhouse,” she said, to cover the little kick of delight his insistence gave her.

  His teeth gleamed white as he grinned.

  Issy left her arm linked with his as they resumed walking.

  At her front door, the awkwardness returned. Issy wasn’t sure what to say.

  As she pulled out her keys and unlocked her door, she fell back on good manners. “Thank you for dinner and the escort home. You can tell your mom that you did her proud.”

  “My pleasure. All part of the service.”

  She looked into his eyes and couldn’t look away again. Her pulse tripped.

  “Good night.” Damn it. Why did her voice have to sound soft and husky?

  “Good night, Bella.”

  Using the name she’d given him in Antigua gave her a clue as to what was coming. She didn’t move when J.B. leaned down and kissed her.

  The touch of his lips against hers was fleeting at first. Yet the brief, hot contact sent a bolt of lightning through her. She barely had a chance to drag in a jagged breath before his mouth settled more firmly into place.

  He pulled her close, wrapping her tightly in his embrace as she wound her arms around his neck. Her soft curves molded to his hard body. She parted her lips and his tongue took advantage of the invitation.

  By unspoken agreement, as they kissed they moved inside. Neither flinched when J.B. kicked the door shut. They were too engrossed in the moment and the opportunity to taste and touch, when they’d assumed they’d never see each other again.

  He tasted even more delicious than she’d remembered.

  Her fingertips tingled as they found their way beneath his shirt to smooth, hot, bare skin.

  Deep within her body throbbed. Issy was back where she belonged.

  Except she didn’t belong with J.B.

  Issy broke off the kiss and wrenched her body out of his embrace. She shivered, even as waves of embarrassment washed over her, making her cheeks burn. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her hands up and down her goose bumps.

  She raised her eyes to look at him. His jaw was set, his mouth a thin, hard line. His gaze was shuttered; cold and dark. If she didn’t know better, she’d assume that he hadn’t been as affected by their kiss as she had. Only his uneven breathing and the muscle working in his cheek gave the truth away.

  Issy tried to soften her rejection. “We haven’t figured out how any of this is going to work. This isn’t the time to do...this.” She waved her hand back and forth between them.

  “Cool your jets. It was just a kiss. I’m not going to deny it was a great kiss—we hardly need any more proof that we connect on a physical level—but it wasn’t a marriage proposal or anything.”

  His words sliced through the remaining haze of desire left from their kiss.

  “It would take one hell of a kiss to make me forget your stance on anything to do with commitment and, nice as it was, it wasn’t that great.”

  She hadn’t thought his jaw could get any tighter.

  “I want to make one thing clear,” she continued. “Whatever role you decide you want to play in our child’s life, there will be nothing physical between us.”

  “You won’t get any argument from me.”

  She dug in her purse, pulled out a notepad and pen and handed them to him. “If you put your contact details on there, I’ll forward the legal documents to you once they’ve been drawn up.”

  “I’ll get my financial guy working on a suitable support package and I’ll talk to the team’s insurance people about adding you to my health-care policy.”

  Issy wanted to argue that those steps weren’t necessary, but she wouldn’t cut her nose off to spite her face. Or her baby’s. “Thank you. If you let me know what information they’ll need, I’ll make sure they get it promptly.”

  He opened the door. “Thanks for an...entertaining evening.”

  She cleared her throat. “Good night.”

  Issy watched him saunter down the path to the gate. Just when she thought she had everything under control, J.B. had to blast through her plans like one of his cannon-shot pucks.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  J.B. WAS WEARING the furry cat ears again. He’d had a four-point night—two goals and two assists—as part of a boat-race win over their hated rivals, the Rangers. The perfect way to end the preseason. He just hoped his run of good form would carry over into the regular season, which was less than a week away.

  He felt good. Scratch that—he felt great. Everything was clicking. This was going to be his season. He knew it, deep down inside. Just as he had his first year in the show, when the Cats had won the Cup. Last season, when the feeling had been missing, he’d put it down to the fact that he was older, wiser and more experienced. Sadly, his gut feeling, or lack of one, had been proved right.

  “You’re buying the first round again,” Paddy said as he toweled off after his shower. “I told you you’d have to run a tab.”

  J.B. zipped up his pants and slipped his wallet into his pocket. “Yeah. I’ll have to speak to Delilah behind the bar and put down that deposit. This could be an expensive season.”

  “Here’s hoping you have to take out a loan.” Kenny shrugged into his sports coat. “I want to go all the way again.”

  Paddy nodded. “But this time I want to be drinking out of Lord Stanley’s trophy instead of drowning my sorrows.”

  “I hear you.” Mad Dog combed his wet hair. “Man, does that champagne have a special taste when you drink it out of the Cup.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Paddy hadn’t been with the Cats when they’d last won the championship. “I hope that’s not because Kris Draper’s baby pooped in it back in ’08.”

  Kenny laughed. “The guys who look after it clean it up real well every night.”

  “Before they sleep with it,” J.B. added.

  “There’s a visual I don’t need.” Mad Dog gagged.

  “Is that why they wear white gloves when they handle the Cup?” Kenny mused.

  “Hell, I don’t care. I can’t wait for my turn.” Paddy tossed his towel into the laundry bag. “I don’t want to be one of those sad old guys who retire without ever having won it.”

  “I’ll be a sad, old, starving and thirsty guy if you don’t get your ass in gear.” Kenny sat in his stall and rested his feet on his gym bag. “Come on, man. Get dressed already. There’s a beer and a plate of burritos with my name on it.”

  “Keep your hair on. Larocque’s not done yet, either.”

  “At least I’ve got my pants on.” J.B. pulled on his shirt and began buttoning it.

  Paddy’s retort, involving an off-color reference to J.B.’s sexual preferences, was interrupted by a ringtone playing Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It.”

  J.B. grabbed his cell from his locker. He didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  He couldn’t make out the reply because there was a lot of crackling and background noise. From the announcement, whoever was calling was at an airport.

  “Hello?” he said again.

  “Hold on...breaking up...moving...better coverage. Don’t hang...”

  The female voice sounded familiar. “Sapphie?”

  Mad Dog’s head shot up and he sent J.B. a questioning look.

  J.B. shrugged. He had no idea why she’d be calling. Unless... Was there a problem with Issy?

  “Just a second, J.B.” The interference stopped and the connection became clear. “There, is that better?”

  He wanted to yell at her to tell him what was wrong, but he told himself to stay calm. “You’re coming through perfectly. What’s up?”

  “Nothing to worry about. I just need a huge favor.”

  “Is everything okay? Is Issy all right?”

  “We’re both fine, though the f
avor is for Issy.”

  “Okay, shoot.”

  “I’m supposed to go with Issy to her first ultrasound tomorrow. Unfortunately my flight out of O’Hare has been canceled because of bad weather and I can’t get on another one until tomorrow morning. She says she’s fine going by herself, but she shouldn’t be alone for something so important. I know you don’t want to get involved with the baby, but this is a good opportunity for you to show that you’ll step up when it counts.”

  J.B. hesitated. He’d planned to hit a new club in the city that everyone had been raving about, especially since they had a few days before they had to play again.

  He gave his head a shake.

  What was he thinking? He could go the club anytime.

  “I’ll take her. What time’s the appointment?”

  “Nine fifteen, but she needs to be there at nine o’clock.”

  “All right. Do you have the address?”

  “I’ll text it to you. Thanks. I owe you one.”

  When he hung up he noticed the guys staring at him, clearly concerned.

  “What’s going on?” Mad Dog asked.

  “It’s no big deal.” J.B. explained about Sapphie’s travel hiccup. “It’s a pretty easy procedure, with no gore or bodily fluids involved, so I’m good.”

  “Better take a clean handkerchief, for when you start to cry,” Jake said, grinning as he joined the group. “It’s a big moment, seeing your baby for the first time. Makes it real.”

  J.B. couldn’t imagine getting emotional over one of those little snapshots he’d seen team-mates passing around proudly. Half the time you couldn’t even tell it was a baby.

  “Just try not to pass out like Tru did,” Paddy teased him.

  “That was different,” Kenny said. “It was all the needles and stuff that made him keel over, not a simple ultrasound.”

  “Needles?” J.B.’s stomach rolled.

  “The needles were for the IVF that Jenny went through, numb nuts.” Kenny rolled his eyes. “Issy’s already pregnant. There won’t be any needles.”

  J.B. wiped away the sweat that beaded on his forehead. “Okay. Great.”

  Mad Dog grinned. “I can take Issy if you’re not up for it.”