Hockey Holidays Read online

  My cell trilled to life. I glanced at the screen. It was an unidentified number, but I recognized the last five digits from the card that came with the flowers.

  Nathan.

  “Wow, fast work, Casanova,” I muttered and switched it to silent.

  As I sipped my coffee, my phone rang again, vibrating on the work surface. Again, I ignored it and made my way to the shower. I didn’t need to go into work today, but I would. I wanted to see how my bypass patient from the day before was doing.

  By late afternoon, I’d had four missed calls from Nathan, which was ridiculous, so I switched the damn thing off. As I did so, I looked at the flowers on my desk then at the trash. If I could have gotten the huge bunch in the container I would have, but there was no way even with a bit of bashing they’d fit. And besides, it wasn’t the flowers’ fault the man who’d sent them was a douchebag.

  My day ended with another long hot soak in the tub. If Ben had been around, I would have joined him and Lisa for a barbeque on a Sunday evening, perhaps a swim in their pool. But without him, I was at a loose end. I could have rung Amanda and Richard and gotten myself an invite there—Richard was a childhood friend of ours, family almost. But I didn’t have the energy. In truth, I wanted to lick my wounds, sift through my thoughts, and be embarrassed on my own about the fact I’d very nearly fallen for the charms of the NHL’s biggest cad.

  Monday started with a ward round, then I spent the afternoon in theatre working on a valve replacement. It was a child, and the vessels so tiny it required all of my patience and concentration. I then spent time in intensive care going through blood results with interns. When I finally got up to my office, day was becoming night and Nicola was just leaving.

  “Hi, Dr. Delaney,” she said. “Good day?”

  “Long day.”

  “There’s a few letters on your desk which require your attention, a rep called and asked if he could present the new stents to your team, and…” Her sentence trailed off.

  “What?”

  “And Nathan Walker has called three times.”

  I groaned. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “He’s got it bad, wants you to call him as soon as you can.”

  “Which will be never.”

  “Why? He’s a hottie.”

  “And, to quote you right back, he’s also trouble.”

  Nicola shrugged. “What hockey player isn’t?” A giggle burst upward. “And besides, trouble is more interesting than boring.”

  “I really haven’t got time.” I sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “No, it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow, I’m off. And I need to get myself organized for the big day. I’ve hardly done anything. Why is it always left to the mom?”

  Christmas was barely on my radar. “Happy Christmas, Nicola, and thank you.”

  “Happy Christmas to you, too.”

  She slipped from the room, and I walked into my office and up to the window. Lights from the bar on the other side of the lot twinkled through the darkness, and to the right of it a shop had balanced a reindeer and sleigh on its roof. My attention strayed to the place Nathan had kissed me.

  “Damn you.” I touched my lips. “How did you make such an impression so quickly?”

  After filing the paperwork Nicola had set out for me, I made the decision to go the Vipers’ stadium and pick up my torch. Fergal’s secretary had told me it was now in Ben’s office. I didn’t want to have it sitting around all over the holidays; there was more chance it would go walkabout if I did that.

  The stadium was in semi-darkness, nothing like the way it was lit when a game was on. As I stepped out of the car, the quiet wrapped around me, and I was aware of the lack of scents that had hit my nostrils last time I’d been here.

  After letting myself in through a side entrance, using the code Ben had given me, I strode down the maze of corridors. My feet ached, and a dull thud had made itself at home in my temple. I needed to eat and rest and finish my day off. This detour really was the last thing I wanted.

  Eventually, I located the office, and sure enough, my torch was on Ben’s desk. I slipped it into my purse then paused and looked around. I missed Ben so much; I’d be glad when he was home, but standing in his domain, his workplace, made me feel a little closer to him.

  My stomach growled, and I strode from the office, shutting the door up behind me. I wandered back the way I’d come, or at least the way I’d thought I’d come. I spotted the home team’s locker room door, suppressing a flush as I recalled who I’d stumbled across last time I’d gone in there and his state of undress.

  Damn it. I’d taken a wrong turn.

  I passed a set of offices, then pushed through two wide doors, and the moment I did, I knew I’d made an even bigger mistake.

  The cool scent of ice filtered up my nose, and the chill air washed over my cheeks. The sound of blades slicing over the rink filled my ears, and a blur of red and white streaked past me.

  I’d accidently ended up in the same compartment by the rink as I’d sat in when I’d been acting medic.

  The right thing to do would have been to quickly slip out again, but I was held hostage by my curiosity as two players battled for the puck. I had no idea who they were, they didn’t have names on their shirts, but they were going full throttle toward a padded-up goalie.

  Suddenly one flicked the puck, hard, and it hit the back of the net.

  There was a whoop, and the player who’d scored the point held his stick aloft and spun. He spun toward me. Stopped. Stared.

  It was him. Nathan Walker.

  What were the chances of walking in and him being one of only three players working on their moves? Just my rotten luck.

  I remained frozen.

  All that was going through my brain was he’d think I was here for him. To see him. To speak to him. And that was the last thing I wanted. I’d been trying to avoid him and make a break from whatever it was we had going on.

  He pushed forward, whizzing my way, closing the distance between us with alarming speed.

  I finally managed to get my traitorous body to move and twirled around, my heart clattering. I had to get out of there.

  Shoving the door so hard it whacked up against the wall, I raced from the rink.

  “Sophie!”

  His deep voice rattled through my brain. I knew I should stop and speak to him but I didn’t trust myself not to be seduced by his charm again.

  “Sophie, wait!”

  Wait for what? To fall for him then have my heart broken when he moved on to the next conquest? Another blonde bombshell I could never compete with? No, thank you.

  The door slammed shut, and I spotted a sign for the exit. Tightening the strap of my purse over my shoulder, I sped up to a jog.

  Soon I was back outside. The air was still hot, despite it being late, and cicadas had set up their song in the bushes around the lot. The moon was full, and a silvery light spread before me, over the tarmac as I made for my car. I half expected Nathan to suddenly appear.

  But he didn’t. Thank goodness skates took some time to remove.

  I headed for home with the image of his face behind his helmet haunting me. He’d been surprised at first to see me, then a smile had tugged his lips.

  I should never have gone to the stadium. Ben could have brought my torch to me.

  It was too late. The damage was done.

  After a microwave meal for one, I sat in front of the television in my lounge pants and a t-shirt.

  Flicking through the channels, I came across a show about hockey. I tossed the remote aside and watched. The commentator was talking about The Islanders but quickly moved to The Vipers. An image of Nathan flashed up on the screen. First his face, wearing a helmet, and then a medley of shots of him on the ice scoring points.

  “Jeez! I can’t get away from him!” I reached for the remote again and turned the television off.

  The doorbell sounded.

  I frowned, stood, then padded barefoo