Game Over (The Baltimore Banners Book 2)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  “You said ‘babysitter’. Why do you think that?”

  Her straightforward question surprised him. None of his other ‘assistants’ had ever bothered to ask him…about anything. Their sole responsibility was to monitor his every move and make sure he behaved. Why was it that this one was different?

  Nikolai studied her, wondering how he should answer—how he could answer. How much did she already know? And how much of what he told her would she report back to those who watched him? But her deep green eyes held an honest openness and curiosity that enthralled him, and he finally settled on the truth. At least, on a half-truth that would answer her question.

  “I am neither old nor feeble, nor am I young and impetuous. Yet they insist that I have an ‘assistant’. My play is good, but I am not a star. No one else is provided an assistant. So I must ask, why me? And why assistants who only follow me around, tell me where to go and when to get there and what to do. What is that, if not a babysitter?”

  Bobbi looked away, and he could see she was trying not to smile. She twirled the pen between her fingers, then shrugged and faced him again, the smile she was trying so hard to hide shining in her green eyes. “Well, from what I understand, I don’t think you’d have an assistant if you actually, you know, played nice and did what you were supposed to.”

  Did what you were supposed to. A chill filled Nikolai at her teasing words, and he wondered if she had said them as a warning…or if they were nothing more than an innocent coincidence. He studied her face, looking for signs of double-meanings or hidden agendas. Instead he saw only teasing in her open smile.

  “I do not think so, but it is not up to me.” He shifted on the sofa, his leg again brushing against hers as he leaned back and offered her his own smile. A real smile, one that freed something inside him that he thought dead and buried long ago. He shook his head at the uncharacteristic thought, and held his hand out to her in a gesture of truce. “So, here you are and here I am. You must do your job, and I will try not to be too difficult. Do we agree on this?”

  She looked down at his offered hand, and slowly reached out to accept it. Her skin was cool and damp, her small hand dwarfed in his larger one. Nikolai felt the trembling in her hand as his fingers curled around hers. Without thinking, he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss across her knuckles. He looked up and met her eyes, their gazes locked. Desire shot through him, hot and fast, nearly knocking the wind from him with its startling intensity. He didn’t think, merely acted, and leaned toward her, feeling a pull he didn’t want to fight.

  Bobbi’s fingers tightened around his as he shifted closer. Nikolai heard the quickening of her breath, saw the knowledge and anticipation of what he was about to do heat her eyes as she leaned, just the tiniest bit, toward him.

  Then she quickly yanked her hand free and fisted it in her lap, pulling away and scooting sideways, until she was nearly sitting on the arm rest.

  Nikolai briefly closed his eyes, cursing himself as a fool for acting so boldly. He shifted away, giving her space even as he tried to calm his body’s swift reaction…to something that didn’t even happen. In control once more, or so he told himself, he opened his eyes and watched her, wondering how she would react.

  She was once again fingering the papers in her lap, her expression thoughtful. She cleared her throat then finally looked over at him, pinning him with a speculative gaze. “I have to congratulate you on your act earlier. It was very convincing.”

  “Act?”

  “Yeah, the whole fresh-from-the-Old-Country thing. The accent really added to it.”

  He didn’t look away and didn’t deny anything. He was impressed by this new assistant, by her spirited words and ability to look deeper than the surface. Nikolai knew both of these things should have worried him, but they didn’t. Instead, they filled him with excitement, with an eagerness to get to know her better. The corner of his mouth lifted in a brief smile. “But, moj dosadnyj malen’kij bich, I do have an accent. And I am from the Old Country.”

  Bobbi smiled at him, and he felt himself relax even more. “True. But the first thing I had to do when I took this job was get to know a little about you. You were born and raised outside of Moscow, but you’ve been living here in the United States for twelve years; first in New York, then Phoenix, now in Baltimore. And while you definitely do have an accent, it’s nowhere near as pronounced as you were playing it.”

  Her observations continued to surprise him. He offered her a slight nod, his smile even broader, but he didn’t say anything. No denial, no admission. Bobbi tilted her head and studied him, and he got the impression that she was making her mind up about something.

  “So do you do this all the time? Or was it just for me?”

  “Do what, moj dosadnyj malen’kij bich? Your ‘Old Country” act, as you say? Or hope for a kiss from a very pretty woman?” Bobbi looked away at his words, as surprised by them as he was. He didn’t know why he said them, didn’t know what he hoped to accomplish by putting into words what he suspected they both already knew. How could they not? Nikolai had been aware of the strong pull between them as soon as he had turned around and saw her standing in front of him yesterday. And he had not tucked himself so far out of life that he hadn’t noticed her own interest in him, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

  He watched her carefully, noticing the pink blush that bloomed on her cheeks, and wondered what she would do. There were some women who would gladly jump on the chance to be with a professional sports player, just for the chance to say they had been.

  Even one or two of his previous ‘assistants’ had let their interest be known, letting him know in no uncertain terms that they were available if he chose. It made no difference in their minds that they could coldly plan seduction while reporting his every move. They would be paid regardless. He often wondered if a successful seduction resulted in more money. But he never took advantage of the offers, and never asked.

  He continued watching Bobbi. Did she fall into any of those categories? The human part of him, the part still capable of emotion despite being buried so long ago, didn’t think so. But the remote part of him, the part of him that allowed him to survive, was curious to see how she would react. Would she be shy and coy? Would she play hard-to-get even as she planned her next move? Or would she be straightforward and encouraging?

  She shifted, fidgeting more with her ridiculous pile of papers as if they really mattered. The blush still colored her face as she pulled a marked page to the top and made notes on it with a bright red marker. And Nikolai realized, with a clarity that surprised him even as it warmed him, that she didn’t know how to react and was ignoring his comment instead.

  Bobbi made another notation on the sheet and shifted sideways, holding it up so he could see it. “I’m not sure how you’ve done this in the past, so I was thinking of going through, separating everything out, then creating an agenda—”

  Nikolai laughed, a hearty sound that surprised even him. His little pest was ignoring him, as if that would make this strange pull between them disappear. He waved his hand at the paper and shook his head, still laughing. “However you think is best. I truly have no interest in these other things.”

  “Um, yeah. I think that’s the problem. Your lack of interest only resulted in you being saddled with me. So,” she pointed to several events that were underlined, starred, and highlighted. “I’m guessing these are pretty important, if the notes mean anything. It looks like they’re appearances of some kind.”

  Nikolai leaned closer, deliberately brushing his shoulder against hers as he pretended to study the sheet of paper. He had already decided that he would do as she asked, that he wouldn’t be difficult with this one.

  Because he found he wanted to spend more time with her. Her forthrightness appealed to him, and he decided he wanted to get to know her better. And if the pull between them grew stronger…Nikolai would not stop it. No, he had been living by someone else’s set of rules for too long. I
t was time he pushed back even more.

  And if it turned out that Bobbi was more than what she seemed, that she was just another ‘assistant’ sent to monitor him…well, there was nothing to be done about that. But he would at least, finally, allow himself some enjoyment, in one form or another. So he glanced again at the paper in her hands, then back at Bobbi, not surprised when she leaned away from him.

  “Yes, appearances. Some of the players call them show-and-tell. There are many of these appearances in the off-season. We’re getting close to that time, so…” He shrugged as his voice trailed off, his shoulder again brushing lightly against hers.

  Bobbi looked down at the schedule, taking great care to stack it neatly on top of the pile before looking at him. “And you obviously don’t like appearances. I got it. But I understand that these aren’t optional so…suck it up. I should probably arrange the transportation for you, too. Is it easier for them to pick you up here, or is somewhere else more convenient? Would you like me to make arrangements for your date as well? And—”

  Nikolai interrupted her with another laugh. He shook his head and offered her a small smile of apology as he motioned to the papers in her lap. “You do not need to worry so much about details, moj dosadnyj malen’kij bich. If you are stuck babysitting me, you must do it correctly.”

  “Correctly?”

  “Yes. You must attend these appearances with me as my date. How else will you know if I go?”

  “Me? But…” Bobbi snapped her mouth closed in the middle of her protest, and Nikolai wondered if she would refuse. It was nothing more than a quick way to try to spend more time with her, and a transparent attempt at best. She watched him carefully, her eyes narrowed as she studied him. He had the feeling she was thinking of ways to refuse, and he held his breath, waiting.

  A long minute went by before she pursed her lips and finally nodded. “Okay, fine. I’ll be your date.”

  “Excellent!” Nikolai clapped his hands and smiled. “Then you must go home and prepare for our ‘date’.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Our date. According to your important list, I have an appearance this evening.” He leaned over the schedule, his finger running down the list of events. Bobbi’s breath hitched as his hand brushed against her leg, but he pretended not to notice, pretended to be unaffected by the accidental touch when he pointed out tonight’s charity appearance.

  Bobbi looked down at the schedule, then up at him. The expression on her face was one of disbelief and horror, and he almost took pity on her. But he shook his head and stood up. “No, moj dosadnyj malen’kij bich, you must go.”

  She gave him another dazed look, then grabbed the pile of papers from her lap and tossed them into her bag. “But, it’s bowling. I can’t bowl.”

  Nikolai laughed and held his hand out. She reached up and took it, allowing him to help her stand. She shook her head again, still looking surprised. “I can’t bowl,” she repeated.

  Nikolai closed his hand around hers and led her to the door. “Do not worry, moj dosadnyj malen’kij bich. Our first date will be an exciting adventure. It is only bowling. What could go wrong?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  What could go wrong, indeed? A burst of laughter escaped her lips and she quickly tried to hide it with a cough. The attempt was unsuccessful, judging from the look on Nikolai’s face: part indignation, part wounded-puppy.

  Bobbi didn’t think he’d like the description, so she offered him what she hoped was an apologetic smile…for at least the hundredth time. “I really am sorry. I told you I didn’t know how to bowl.”

  His only response was a disheartened grunt, and she risked a sideways glance at him as he pulled the car into her drive. Relief filled her when she realized he was only teasing…again. “Will you at least come in and let me get you an ice pack?”

  “Ice pack? No!” He turned to face her, an expression of horror etched across his chiseled features. “I am a professional hockey player, a premier defenseman. I do not need an ice pack!”

  Bobbi laughed again, the merriment touching deep within her. Entirely too much time had passed since she had felt this open and free and unreserved. It felt good. And who would have thought that it was because of bowling?

  Well, not bowling exactly. More like handicapped bowling. The teams had been divided into groupings of two, who each got a chance to bowl one frame. The strongest of the pair was then handicapped in some way—and the handicap changed with each set of frames. At the very end, Bobbi and Nikolai each had one leg tied together so they were tethered, both of Bobbi’s hands had been tied together, and Nikolai had been blindfolded. The object had been for Bobbi to give Nikolai directions so he could roll the ball down the lane. It had ended with the two of them tangled in a heap in the middle of the lane. Heat surged through Bobbi at the memory and she fought it back, using guilt as her weapon.

  Because when she tripped and fell and took Nikolai down with her, he had turned so he would break her fall…and jammed his finger instead.

  “Okay, no ice pack. At least come inside so I can take a better look. Maybe tape or…” Her voice trailed off at the look on his face. “Okay, no tape either. Fine.”

  “Ah, moj dosadnyj malen’kij bich finally understands. But I will go in anyway, just to make sure you’re safe. And yes, I will even let you doctor my finger if it will make you feel better.”

  Annoying little pest. Again, his pet term for her. She wanted to ask why he kept calling her that, if he really thought she was annoying, but she couldn’t.

  And God, what was she doing, sitting here joking around, acting like they were on a date? She was supposed to be acting like his personal assistant. She was supposed to be working. She was supposed to be looking into the possible extortion of the enigmatic man sitting next to her, not sitting out here acting like an overgrown hormonal teenager.

  And now, he wanted to keep her safe.

  Bobbi opened the car door without waiting for Nikolai and quickly walked to her front door. She didn’t miss the look of confusion that crept across his face as he quickly followed her. He placed his hand over hers as she reached to turn the knob, then pushed open the door before she could say anything. Light from the living room illuminated the entranceway with a soft glow. She stepped past him and closed the door.

  “I have upset you. Why?”

  Bobbi shook her head and walked into the living room, dimming the stronger light as she passed it. She had planned on going straight into the kitchen but was stopped by Nikolai’s strong hand on her shoulder.

  “Will you not tell me how I’ve upset you?”

  “I’m not upset, honest,” she lied. “I’m just…tired.” She tried to shrug away from him, from the discomfort of lying to him, then caught a glimpse of his injured finger. Guilt crept over her again and she reached out for his hand, cradling it in her own, noticing again how large his hands were, how small and delicate hers looked in comparison.

  Enough already, she thought. Get over the sudden hand fetish and deal with his finger, then get him out of here.

  “I have some adhesive tape in the kitchen. Let me wrap it so at least I’ll feel better.”

  “You are avoiding my question.”

  “Nikolai, I—”

  “And why do you call me Nikolai? You are the only one who does so.” He turned his hand over and placed it against hers so they were palm-to-palm. Then he grabbed her other hand, palm-to-palm, before lacing their fingers together.

  Bobbi’s heart lurched as heat surged through her again, more powerful this time. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat as he stepped closer, so close she could feel his legs against hers. “Nikolai—”

  “Again with Nikolai. I am not used to being called that any more, but on your lips, with your voice, I like it very much.” He stepped even closer, closing what little distance remained between them. His eyes locked on hers and she felt hypnotized, drawn into the swirling depths of their shades of blue. He was going to kiss her. And s
he wanted him to, was leaning forward to meet him even though she knew it was the absolute worst thing she could do…

  And then his lips did meet hers and she forgot everything as she felt, memorized, absorbed his touch. Soft, deceivingly soft for such a large, rough man, And gentle. Tentative.

  He was taking his time, she realized. Giving her time to get used to his touch, giving her a chance to say no. And she knew, without a doubt, that she could trust him to do as she wished, that he would stop if she said no.

  So do it. Say no.

  The thought was there, and it must have caused her to hesitate because Nikolai did stop, breaking the gentle contact and pulling away a fraction of an inch. This was Bobbi’s chance to embrace sanity and stop.

  Instead she glided her hand up his arm and along his shoulder, feeling the warmth of hard muscle under her touch. She trailed her fingers along his neck, feeling his flesh ripple in response as she toyed with the hair hanging over the edge of his collar before pulling him even closer to her.

  This time when their lips met, there was an instant explosion of fire between them. She turned aggressor and opened her mouth, sweeping her tongue against his, tasting him, breathing him in.

  Nikolai’s hold on her tightened as he lifted her, fitting her more closely against him. Instinctively she wrapped her legs tight around him and pressed herself against him, feeling the hard ridge of his cock against her most sensitive spot. Cursing the too-many layers between them, she reached up with her other hand and undid the buttons of his shirt, hurrying, unable to take her time. She yanked the shirt from the waist of his pants and pushed the sides apart, not caring if she ripped it in her hurry because finally, God, her hands were on his chest, the warm flesh and hard ridges of his shoulders and pecs. Hair crinkled under her touch, just enough for her fingers to explore, to follow the trail down the hard, flat plane of his abdomen to the waistband of his pants.