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

  While she grumbled about the coach’s need to win at all costs, Vinny realized it had been blood dripping in his eye more than sweat.

  “It’s nothing.” He didn’t want to get noticed for opening a vein.

  A few of his teammates brushed past him, returning to the locker room. The coach would want to talk to them all before they showered and changed into street clothes.

  “It’s not nothing. That’s three stitches at least.” She reached for him again and this time, he closed his eyes, willing her hands to linger. “You need to see the medic.”

  When her touch came, it was soft. Gentle. She swiped at a damp spot above his eye, her fingers smoothing along his temple toward his helmet.

  “I’ll get it stitched if you’ll have dinner with me.”

  Her hand stilled on his face. He opened his eyes.

  She looked so surprised and wary that he debated rephrasing the invitation, including other people in a group meal. But he’d done that six months ago and it hadn’t gotten him anywhere. He needed time alone with her.

  “I… That is, the girls and I were going to drive to New York tonight.”

  She snatched back her fingers suddenly, as if she’d only just realized she still touched him. He was pretty sure he could have waxed poetic for a few hours about how much he wanted her hands on him again, but he didn’t think some big romantic outpouring was going to advance his cause.

  “So wait an hour or two. You need to eat.”

  “I don’t want to get sleepy on the road tonight if I get a late start.” She hadn’t said “no” outright yet. Was it so pathetic that he took this as a good sign?

  “You can call me from the road later if you feel tired and we’ll talk. I’ll keep you awake.”

  God knows, he’d lost plenty of sleep to thinking about her before. He’d gladly trade the rest for a chance to hear her voice in his ear in the middle of the night.

  Around them, the last of the players went inside and some of the other fans turned his way, no doubt thinking he was there to sign autographs, too.

  Normally, he was happy to stick around and sign. But right now he kept his eyes on Chelsea, willing her to say yes.

  “I don’t know, Vincent.” She bit her lip, her dark eyes filled with worry. “I’m not like the other girls around here.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t really date or anything, so…”

  “I just want to talk.” He didn’t care that he was hanging his personal life out for all the world to see. For twenty fans to dissect and—of course—an ever-present camera guy to record. But he did lower his voice when he remembered the videographer must still be behind him. “Get to know you. Clothes stay on, cross my heart, Boy Scout promise and I really was one, Eagle Scout no less. Wanna see my badges?”

  He’d worry about dating another day.

  She sucked in a gasp and he knew a moment’s dread that she was going to slam the door in his face forever. Instead, she reached out once more to stop the blood flow from his eyebrow down into his eye.

  “I’ll go.” The wariness on her face had been replaced with that fierce determination that he recognized as a core part of her character, a compelling piece of her personality that attracted him so thoroughly. “But you’re going to see the medic right now.”

  He meant to thank her and leave. Count his blessings and not be greedy for more.

  But he ended up covering her hand with his, pressing her touch to his face for a moment before he shifted her fingers down to his mouth. Pushing his luck when he should just be grateful for her consent, he brushed a kiss into the soft center of her palm.

  Savoring the taste of her on his lips, he took off into the tunnel and hoped she would really show up for dinner. Because after waiting nine months for Chelsea Durant, Vinny didn’t think he could delay being with her another minute.

  Can I come to your room?

  Jennifer erased the text rather than sending it. It was half an hour after Axel’s game, and she was alone in her hotel room. She’d just finished typing her notes about the win over Montreal, already full of ideas for narration of the exciting overtime defeat. But she wasn’t as skilled with words when it came to texting Axel. Her attempts to see him tonight sounded so sordid. But honestly, she just needed a private place to speak to Axel where the camera guys wouldn’t spot them.

  Still, she understood the risks of being alone with the sexy Finn. He’d told her that he didn’t plan to stop kissing her. Just that he’d make sure they were behind locked doors.

  The memory of that conversation still made her pulse race. She shivered at the thought of where this unwise relationship was headed. Because in spite of the attraction, she did not want to be some decorative accessory on the arm of a successful athlete. Big-time sports stars were notorious for womanizing and living large. She didn’t want any part of the jet-set lifestyle with houses on both coasts and a garage full of cars that were never driven more than two miles.

  Jennifer considered herself a social activist, not a footnote in the society pages.

  Is there anywhere we can speak privately? she typed, thinking that sounded more dignified. Less provocative.

  Hitting Send on her phone, she turned her attention back to her laptop and the raw footage of the game her crew had uploaded to a shared site. Part of her wanted to zoom in on Ax when he raced up the ice at lightning speed, giving him the credit that his talents warranted.

  But how could she highlight a man who might be hunted by a biker gang with a vendetta? Using the footage could endanger him.

  Beside her, the cell phone vibrated and she lifted it to see an incoming message.

  On my way to your room now.

  Anticipation slid through her veins, slow and smoky. He’d carried her bag to her room for her the night before, after the plane had landed in Montreal. So he must remember the number. She hadn’t been able to sit with him on the flight, needing that time with her film crew to work on editing rough footage of their first documentary episode, which would air in three days. The network dictated the fast turnaround time, requiring the story lines to be current and to reflect the most recent games.

  That meant there were two more days until that kiss aired for all the world to see. Two days before her credibility as a director took a hit and her status as a social activist fell into question. After all, she’d locked lips with an affluent athlete whose position with the powerful international Murphy Resorts Corporation was assured after his sports career. Axel Rankin was part of the elite that she loved to battle against.

  The knock at her door startled her.

  Breath rushed from her lungs. She knew that as she opened that door, opposing worldviews and backgrounds wouldn’t matter. Logic didn’t come into play with how she felt about Axel, no matter how much she wanted to sweep her feelings under the rug.

  “Hurry,” came a low voice from the hallway. “I think one of your camera guys is coming up the stairs.”

  Crap.

  She unbolted the lock and pulled the door wide, keeping an eye out for the blinking red record light. Luckily, the corridor remained quiet as Ax brushed past her into the narrow foyer leading into her room.

  “Hi,” she said lamely, locking the door and turning to face him. “Great game.”

  Back against the wall, she stared at him in the dim room, only the TV and her laptop on the bed providing any light. He wore khakis and a casual blue button-down, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. She remembered the feel of those arms around her when he’d caught her climbing down from the rafters two days ago. The memory made her skin tighten and hum with awareness. He smelled clean and yummy, his hair still damp from a shower.

  She curled her hands into fists at her sides to keep from tugging him closer.

  “I’m having the best season of my career,” he admitted, though he seemed a little annoyed about it.

  Was she reading him wrong?

  “That’s terrific.” She was the queen of scintillating conversation tonight, wa