Game On Box Set: Time Out\Her Man Advantage\Face-Off\Body Check Read online

  Her green eyes went wide and he saw a spark of awareness in them. In spite of everything—getting filmed during their kiss, being dragged into this damn thing and then being wrongfully accused of two-timing her—Axel still wanted her. Really, really wanted her.

  “How about if I forgive you for the nonexistent girlfriend?” Her sheepish reply didn’t strike him as nearly contrite enough.

  He double-checked their surroundings for cameras and found they were thoroughly alone. His hands circled her wrists and he tugged her closer.

  “You can do better than that.”

  “I can’t imagine what you’d want.” She smiled up at him, a soft yellow sundress hugging her slight curves and showing off a hint of shoulder that made him want to kiss her there.

  “Then we’d better work on your imagination.” Lifting a finger to trace the wide strap at her neck, he smoothed the cotton fabric over her collarbone and down the front of her chest to where it met the top of her dress.

  She felt silky-smooth and warm.

  She didn’t bother to hide the shiver that went through her. The throb of pulse at her throat picked up speed.

  “That’s helping,” she confessed. “I’m starting to get more ideas for making it up to you.”

  “Good.” He slid the keys from her fingers and hit the remote fob to unlock the passenger side. “You can tell me about them—in detail—once we’re safely behind locked doors and tinted windows.”

  “Very wise. I like this cautious side of you.” She stepped into the vehicle and took her seat while he tucked the trailing hem of her skirt safely out of the way of the door.

  “One of us needs to be sensible. And apparently that’s the role I’m going to get stuck with in this relationship since you’re way too reckless.”

  Her jaw dropped as if she’d never heard such an accusation.

  “Impulsive, maybe. Reckless? Never.”

  “I wasn’t the one seeing girlfriends where there are none. And I wasn’t the one climbing the rafters yesterday.”

  “Yes, well. Much has been made out of that and it was hardly a climb at all.”

  He let her have the point so he could close the door and walk around to the driver’s side. He started the engine and checked the rearview mirror to see if the team bus was almost ready to leave. Plenty of guys were still milling around outside.

  “So I’m going to collect on that apology of yours,” he promised her, wishing he had enough time and space to have her make good on it right here, right now. “And I’ll explain about the phone calls I needed to make this afternoon. But first, I’d like to figure out what we’re going to do to keep this thing between us out of the camera’s eye. And I’d like to know why your boss wields your talent like a puppeteer. Shouldn’t you be calling the shots for your project?”

  “I’m not anyone’s puppet.” Her eyes flashed. “I’m just taking more instruction on this piece because I’ve been accused of not giving my films enough commercial appeal.”

  Axel considered her words as he watched the equipment truck pull out of the parking lot. Transporting the skates and sticks, jerseys and pads took a lot of cargo space. But they also traveled with promotional paraphernalia and signs for the walls, enough reminders of home to make the visiting team’s locker room into more comfortable terrain.

  “Is there any truth to that accusation?” He would far prefer that her film reach an audience of twelve.

  “My subjects are usually geared to more of a niche market.” She popped open the purse at her feet and pulled out a handful of trifold flyers. “My first independent film revealed the gaps in government programs for women and children. Since then I’ve documented the watering down of public education, the violent behaviors of youth culture—”

  “And they wanted you to do a hockey documentary?” He thumbed through the brochures she handed him, each one a promotional piece on a film she’d made. “Why pick a social crusader to chronicle our sport? Unless they want you to create some kind of controversy…”

  He could already imagine the media angles. Hockey had been raked over the coals for being too violent often enough. He bristled, hating the thought of negative press around the sport he lived and breathed. Settling the flyers on the console between the seats, he wondered if he’d be seeing one soon that depicted hockey as some bloodthirsty caveman sport.

  “No. I might have been more excited about this piece if that had been the case.” She turned around in the passenger seat to peer out the back window, her cinnamon-colored hair slipping off her shoulder as she moved. “It looks like the team bus is ready to go.”

  He pried his eyes from the creamy patch of skin visible at the base of her neck, then shifted the SUV into Reverse to follow his teammates to a nearby airstrip.

  “So what gives?” He felt only a trace of guilt at quizzing her about the movie, knowing she probably wouldn’t have talked to him so freely if they hadn’t been growing closer.

  But he had damn good reasons for wanting to know more and he needed to plow ahead.

  “I think the producers want the sleek look and editing that I can bring to the final product since I’ve been receiving critical notice this year. But they’re maintaining full control of the content to dictate the way I pull it together.”

  He mulled that over as they turned onto the highway for the short trip. “And you agreed because they enticed you with some interesting future project you couldn’t refuse.”

  “A film about the way social media depersonalizes human interaction and becomes a sophisticated medium for cyberbullying.” There was a fierceness in her voice that revealed how much the issue meant to her.

  “So you’re in their pocket.” His sticking close to the director had backfired in a spectacular way.

  For one thing, Jennifer didn’t have the final say on how this documentary turned out. For another, his attraction to her had only put him more directly in front of the camera lens he’d hoped to avoid.

  “I like to think of it as contractually obligated. Besides, maybe it will be easier to take a commercial approach on a topic where I’m not as personally invested.”

  “Yet.” He slowed down for a motorcycle in front of him and then moved into the passing lane. “We’ll make a hockey fan out of you at tonight’s game. I think you’re going to become personally invested in a hurry.”

  As he went to pass the bike, the rider sped up. Not in a mood to play games, Axel eased back into the driving lane. Only then did he notice the leather vest the biker wore. The all-too-familiar insignia of a notorious motorcycle club that had branches on both sides of the Atlantic—Destroyers MC.

  Shit.

  Axel accelerated again, telling himself it was just a coincidence. Had to be. Jen’s film hadn’t even been released yet and he hadn’t done a damn thing to attract the attention of his former gang. Besides, he wasn’t even driving his own car.

  Still, his old club had intelligence connections to rival the State Department. They could have gotten wind of the documentary series long before he had. Reaching to the passenger side, he felt for Jen’s buckle, making sure she was safely strapped in.

  Vaguely, he realized she was still speaking—something about hockey. Too bad his brain had tuned out everything but the rider in front of him. He’d always known they’d let him walk away too easily. That they’d come to collect somehow, someday.

  “Axel?” Jen’s voice finally penetrated the cold fog of anxiety that surrounded him. “Are you okay? The bus is way ahead of us.”

  “Is it?” He remembered that isolating a driver was a precursor to running him off the road.

  Was this rider trying to separate them from the team? From the rest of traffic? Back in Finland, Axel had seen the kind of violence that gang was famous for.

  “There’s the turn for the airport.” Jennifer pointed out the windshield to the left.

  Just as the long-haired giant in Destroyers leathers put on his signal to make the same turn.

  “Damn it.” H