by Debra Kayn
“Yes?” She looked everywhere but at him.
“I thought you’d sleep in later after we got home so late last night.”
“Habit.” She shrugged. “You’re up early too.”
The newspaper crinkled and she snapped around to look at him. Big mistake. He’d rolled over onto his back, stretched out, and clasped his hands behind his head. Oh. My. God.
She couldn’t help gaping at his muscular chest, the broad shoulders narrowing slightly at his waist where his boxers hung low. She gave a fleeting glance at the black boxers, and zoomed in on his thighs. Oh, save me.
Relaxed and looking perfectly composed, he said, “We made the paper. Someone caught us dancing in the VIP section after all. From the angle, they must’ve had a powerful camera and taken the shot from downstairs. Plus, they have a shot of me holding you to my chest when we exited the club.”
“That’s good. Your plan worked. I’m glad it wasn’t a wasted evening, and you got everything you wished for.”
He cleared his throat. “About last night … ”
She shook her head, blinking rapidly to focus. His voice made it difficult to concentrate when he still had the rough, low timbre of sleep evident in his tone. “Yes?”
He came off the bed in one smooth move. “I wanted to apologize.”
“About what?” She walked backward into the door and stopped.
“I think you’re under the impression that I asked you here to get you into bed with me.” He scratched his bare chest. “That you think I’m a joke … a … ” He looked confused for a split second. “A player.”
The tightness in her chest eased, and a dawning took shape in her mind. “Dammit. You talked to Shauna, didn’t you?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Grayson?”
He grimaced. “Yeah.”
“I can’t believe this.” She glared at him. “I suppose he told you how I hate the fact that I’m falling for your stupid charm and I worry about being just another woman in your fan club. Don’t think that’s gonna let you get out of paying me, because the stress alone is worth more money than you’re offering me.”
“He — ”
“No!” She covered her ears. “I don’t want to hear it. God, how embarrassing. I thought I could trust Shauna, but she’s got a big mouth now that Grayson is back in her life. She shares everything with him. I’m going to kill her when I get home.”
She whirled around and marched out of his room, down the hallway, and into the kitchen. First chance she got, she’d call Grayson and lecture him on the unspoken trust between girlfriends and girlfriend’s fiancée. What was it with jocks? Did they have a union, swearing to tell all secrets?
Dominic followed her into the kitchen. She grabbed a mug, thankful he’d made coffee already. Ignoring him, she carried her drink into the living room and curled in the corner of the couch.
He entered the room wearing a pair of jeans only, with his own cup of coffee in hand, and sat down in the leather chair by the window. Her skin prickled, her lungs constricted, her vision blurred as she stared at the coffee table. He was like a cake in an otherwise empty house, and she was starving.
“I emailed the rep at Nomora. He’ll be here in an hour.” He drank his coffee as if she hadn’t just made a fool of herself.
If he was willing to ignore her bout of insanity, then so could she. “Why?”
“I’m giving them their samples they need to make cologne.” He managed to give her that information without giving anything away.
“I thought your point of hiring me was to keep Nomora away from you. That kind of defeats the purpose.” She sagged against the couch. “Oh, I get it.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
She put her feet on the floor. “Hey, if you want to call this job off, fine. Give me a plane ticket, and I’m outta here.”
“Stop. I don’t want you going anywhere.” He scooted forward and leaned over, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I thought a lot about my situation last night. If I give Nomora what they want, I’m done with them. They’ll leave me alone. That’s half the battle. Only the women remain, and with you being seen with me every day it’s getting easier.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that every man will go around smelling like you?” She couldn’t help snorting.
“Is that funny?”
“The world will end. Women everywhere will otherwise be occupied, chasing after all men. No one will be able to work with all the wild monkey sex going on.” She laughed, and continued. “It’ll be the downfall of society as we know it.”
“Roles would be reversed.” Dominic rubbed his hand along his jaw. “I’ll be left alone.”
“I doubt that.” She lowered her gaze to his bare feet. Ugh, even his toes were sexy. “You just won’t have as many women after you, because their interests will be divided.”
“Not yours though.”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Diana — ” The doorbell rang.
He stood. “Shit. He’s early.”
“I’ll get the door. You get dressed.” She walked over and took his mug. When he hesitated, she leaned in and pushed him with her shoulder. “At least go put on a shirt in case they sent a woman to the house. It’s too early for me to defend your virtue.”
The Nomora representative who walked through the door came with a satchel of supplies he got right down to business setting up. Diana watched from the kitchen, frowning. He looked like a weasel.
Short, scrawny with a bald spot growing at each temple, his glasses hung on a too small nose. Ironically enough, he said his name was Phil. Phil Ratt, with two t’s.
Sample bottles lined the table, along with tweezers, giant sized Q-tips, scissors, and a sponge. Her gaze swung to Dominic. He appeared ill, standing off to the side.
This was wrong in so many ways. For Dominic to have to sink to this level to find peace in his life was unfair. What happened to human compassion and morality?
“First thing we’ll need to do, Mr. Chekovsky, is have you exercise to work up a sweat. I’ll need two milligrams before we move on to the next sample.” Mr. Ratt held what appeared to look like paper towels in his hands.
Dominic rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t run around the block without my security team.”
“Understandable.” Mr. Ratt motioned through the archway into the living room. “You could do calisthenics until we gather enough perspiration.”
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” Diana stepped toward Dominic.
He shook his head. “It’s okay. The faster I get this over with, the sooner we can forget he was even here.”
Following Dominic and Mr. Ratt into the living room, she leaned against the wall out of the way. Dominic sighed and began doing jumping jacks rather reluctantly. He kept his gaze straight ahead, not looking at her or Mr. Ratt. She clenched her teeth together.
It might not bother Dominic for Nomora to use his body for science … or cologne, but it left a bad smell in the room. Her job was to help him find answers, but this felt wrong.
After five minutes, Mr. Ratt suggested Dominic try doing a different exercise to speed up his body heat. Dominic stopped jumping, sat down on the floor, and stretched out, pulling himself into a sit up. Over and over without gasping for breath or groaning. She squinted, studying his face. He appeared no worse for wear. Not a flush on his cheeks or spot of perspiration from his forehead from all the exercise.
If someone asked her to do ten minutes of exercise, she would’ve perspired and collapsed on the floor. She was more a yoga girl, and believed meditation and stretching were good for the soul and balance in her life.
She glanced at the clock above the fireplace. How long would he have to exercise to break a sweat?
Mr. Ratt glanced at his watch, turned his head, and said, “He’s in rather good shape, isn’t he?”
“He’s a Shark.” She pulled her shoulders back. “No one is better at hockey than Dominic.”
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Dominic pushed to his feet and punched the air. One, two, added a kick, one, two. She leaned back. He was getting serious, and she wondered if he used those fighting skills to kick ass on the rink.
He caught her eye, and she almost pleaded with him to stop. Today was his day off. He shouldn’t be working out, or selling his sweat. A sharp pang squeezed her heart. He looked miserable and beaten.
“Dominic?”
He spared her a glance, but kept moving. “Yeah?”
“Don’t,” she spoke softly. “Please.”
At her pleading, he dropped his arms. Not even out of breath, he walked to her. Her heart raced. What did this man do to her? What was it about him that made her care if Nomora exposed him?
“What are you asking?” He caught one of her curls and hooked it behind her ear.
“Don’t give them a piece of you. You’re you, Dominic Chekovsky, and you shouldn’t be marketed. You’re my boyfriend, remember?” She grabbed his wrist. “We’ll figure out a way to make it all go away. Together.”
He seemed to study her, and then he nodded. She sagged in relief. “Thank you.”
Dominic stepped around her and faced Mr. Ratt. “I’m sorry. I’ve changed my mind.”
“B-but you can’t do that, Mr. Chekovsky. My supervisors are counting on me to bring them back the proper samples.” Mr. Ratt moved forward and swept the cloth down Dominic’s arm.
“No.” Diana rushed forward and grabbed the towel. “He said he doesn’t want to be part of the study. It’s time for you to leave, and if you come back without proper permission we’ll issue a restraining order and take you to court for harassment.”
“He’s special — ”
“No.” She pushed the man into the other room. “He’s human. That’s something you all have forgotten. Now gather your things, and I’ll see you out. Good bye, Mr. Ratt.”
True to her word, she never left the representative’s side. She shut the door, threw the lock, and inhaled deeply before turning around and facing Dominic. Standing up for him and asking him to refuse to take part in the study took their relationship to a new level. There was no going backward. She’d staked her claim, and he knew it.
The air grew thick in the house. She wouldn’t be able to walk to her room without explaining why she’d blurted out her attraction to him. He’d demand answers on why she cared if he shared his scent with the world. Questions she wasn’t ready to answer, because she didn’t understand it herself.
It took her brain longer than it should have to realize Dominic was standing in front of her. Taken completely unaware by the predatory look in his eyes, she swallowed hard. He was against her before she could react.
His mouth hard and hot on hers. He wasn’t asking, but taking. Demanding.
My God, he was scrumptious. A spicy, sensual aphrodisiac that left her putty in his hands.
He forced his tongue into her mouth, and sucked the breath right out of her. She moaned with pleasure that came from deep down in her core. His hands were rough and unyielding as they molded against the small of her back and gripped the curve of her ass. There was no room for space, even air, between their bodies as he kissed her.
She’d never seen him look so possessive. A shiver ran through her.
As he pulled back to yank his T-shirt out of his jeans, she panted. With his torso bared before her, with all of his hard heat within her reach to caress and run her tongue across, she wanted him more powerfully than she’d wanted anything in her life.
How would she ever get her fill of him? Her stomach knotted in anxiety. It isn’t possible.
Moreover, she was the one who was going to end up hurt.
“Stop.” She pushed away and cupped her elbows in her hand. “This isn’t smart.”
“Yes. It is.” Dominic tossed his shirt behind him and reached for her again.
She shook her head. “It’d be a huge mistake. You’re not right for me.”
He frowned. “Why the hell not?”
“Because you have the ability to break my heart, and that’s the last thing I want.” She stepped around him.
“Diana … ”
She shook her head without turning around and walked straight to her room.
Behind the shut door, she sank to the floor, burying her face in her hands. I’m such a fool. He’s a sports star. I’d be just another nameless woman in his past, and he’ll forget about me as soon as I go home.
Chapter Eleven
Standing in the reserved box with the other players’ family and girlfriends at the Sharks arena, Diana watched the seventeen-foot shark head come down from the rafters in the middle of the rink. Metallica’s song “Search and Destroy” blared over the PA system. She leaned forward, and peered around the crowd at the ice. Never having been to a hockey game, Dominic had explained what to expect on the way to the arena.
The conversation gave them something to talk about without discussing the real reason she’d kept her distance from him today. She preferred using the time at his condominium to catch up on her own life to keep the focus off her obsessive attraction to Dominic.
She’d called a realtor and made plans to walk through the Ferriday house again upon her return, and tallied how much it would cost her to redo each bedroom and update the kitchen to industrial size. For how much she wanted to forget Dominic wasn’t around, she was highly aware that he paced in the living room, staying close to her the whole day without pressuring her.
The shark hit the ice, fog rolled out of its mouth, and then Dominic skated through the shark’s mouth to the cheers of the crowd. She clapped, excitement taking her to the tips of her toes so she wouldn’t miss a second. Warmth and pride filled her chest. She had no right to think he was hers to claim, but she was living with him and since he had no family in attendance, she’d do everything to let the fans know he had someone. Even if she was only pretending to be his girlfriend.
The music changed to the Jaws tune. The woman beside her nudged her arm and yelled for her to chomp. She straightened her arms out in front of her and clapped her hands in an imitation shark chomp. Laughing, she gazed over the heads of the dozen women pressed against the board and spotted Dominic.
Dominic ignored the women waving their arms to gain his attention and smiled at her. The grin on her face grew. He mouthed “chomp, chomp” back to her. She shrugged over getting caught in the excitement, never missing a beat. She couldn’t help laughing. The enthusiasm in the arena was contagious. It was her first professional hockey game and she had no idea it would be this fun.
The music died away. The giant shark head went back to the ceiling of the arena, and the crowd found their seats. The woman beside her elbowed her again.
“Who are you rooting for?” The woman wrapped her scarf around her neck and slipped on a pair of mittens.
“Sharks,” she said.
“No. I mean which player are you here with?”
“Dominic Chek — ”
The woman grabbed Diana’s arm and hugged it to her chest. “Please, please, please, introduce me to him. Please.”
She pulled free of the woman. “I don’t think so. He’s mine.”
“You’re his girlfriend?”
“Yes. We’re deeply in love, and I’m living with him.” She lifted her chin higher. “I’m also very possessive and a martial arts master.”
The woman squinted and appraised her. She glared back, not giving an inch. Tonight was as good a night as any to get the rumors started.
Finally, the woman sagged against the back of her seat. “I’m Stephanie. Bradley Keir, number fifty one, is my boyfriend.”
“If you’ve got a boyfriend, why did you want mine?” Diana pulled the stocking cap down over her ears.
“You’re joking, right?” Stephanie shook her head. “I love Bradley, but Dominic is the whole package.” She sighed. “I don’t have to tell you that. One look from him, maybe a nice-to-meet-you from that Russian tongue of his would last me a long time.”
She couldn’t argue with Stephanie’s opinion. “Gotcha.”
The two women in front of her whispered to each other, shot her a look over their shoulder, then leaned forward and spoke to the other row of female fans. She sunk down in her seat. At the end of the game, she feared a mob was going to break out. She should’ve bought a can of mace.
Three players crashed into the board in front of her. Startled, she flinched. Then she recognized Dominic as the attacker.
“Is he supposed to do that?” She scooted to the end of her seat.
“Hell yeah.” Stephanie stood and yelled at the players. “Kick his ass, Dominic!”
No wonder he was in such good shape. The boxing skills he displayed yesterday in the living room came from surviving on the ice. She paid attention for the rest of the half. Learning the rules that sent a player to the penalty box, watching the way the players skate around the ice as if they knew which direction the other players were headed.
With thirty seconds left to go and the score one to one, Dominic had the puck. She stood, so she could watch him weave around two of the players on the Rangers team. She yelled his name the closer he got to the goal.
He pulled back his stick and swung. She stood on her toes and held her breath. The puck sailed past the goalie. She jumped up and down, clapping. Goal!
The buzzer rang and the players skated off the ice toward the locker room. She sat back down. Her heart raced against her chest. If no more points were made, Dominic had won the game for the Sharks. They’d have to celebrate.
“Do you want anything at the concession?” Stephanie asked.
“No, I’m good. Thanks.” She shifted sideways, moving her knees out of the way.
Half the arena emptied during halftime. She crossed her legs and swung her foot with the extra room. She should’ve brought her phone. Shauna and Kate would’ve got a kick out of knowing she was actually enjoying watching a game.
Growing up, Shauna played tennis and Kate almost made a career out of cheerleading. Diana, on the other hand, never had time to play. Her parents had believed that once she turned sixteen, she would be responsible for earning her own money. Not that she begrudged their strict opinion regarding taking responsibility for herself. Their example made it possible for her to afford the Ferriday house on her own.
