Body Check (31 page)

Ty closed his eyes. “Don't.”

“Why not?” she teased, beginning to run her fingers through his hair. “You know you want me to.”

Yeah, I do, I want you to right here on the couch, and then I want you right there on the rug, and
. . .

“Ty—?” Her voice was a coquettish murmur.

“I can't.” He opened his eyes and as politely as he could, slid down the couch away from her. “Don't torture me, Janna.”

“It's only torture because of your stupid rule about no sex before a game,” she snorted.

“A rule I'd like you to respect.”

“You're the one who started it by rubbing your face in my hair!”

Ty raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “You're right, I started it. I take full and complete blame.”

Janna slid towards him. “So let's finish it,” she purred.

“Janna.” His voice was heavy with frustration as he dealt with the sexual tension beginning to build in him. “Look, I would love to make love to you right now, okay? But I can't. Tomorrow is too important a game. I need to rest.” He paused. “You understand, right?”

“I understand.”

But the disappointment on her face said otherwise. Feeling badly, he took her hands in his. “I'll make it up to you.” He showered her knuckles with kisses. “Okay?”

Her features softened in surrender. “Okay.”

“Good.” He reached to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “You all right now?”

“I'm fine.” Her face bunched up in concentration. “I just . . . Lou told me about how he was lying on the floor and Lily was standing over him and he thought he was going to die and so . . .” She waved a deprecating hand. “Never mind.”

“What?”

“It's not important,” she said, quickly rising. She reached for her coat. “I guess I should go.”

“Are you sure you don't want some coffee or something?” he offered lamely. “I could make some.”

“Ty.” Her voice was slightly scornful. “I know you really don't want me to stay, and I know why. Believe me, I can handle it. I'm a big girl. Besides,” she deadpanned as she glanced down disdainfully at the coffee table, “I don't think you have any clean mugs.”

Ty ducked his head, embarrassed. “Yeah, well, let me at least have the doorman call you a cab. I'll walk you down to the lobby.”

“Promise me you'll tidy this up before Inez comes back so she doesn't have a heart attack, too.”

“I promise.”

Cab called, they talked about the Playoffs for a few minutes before taking the elevator down together.

“I assume I'll see you at practice tomorrow?” he asked.

“Of course. I'll be the one walking ten paces behind Jack Cowley, bearing his crown on a velvet pillow.”

Ty laughed. “That'll be the day.” Lobby empty, he planted a soft, caring kiss on her lips, heat ricocheting through him when her mouth parted slightly beneath his and their tongues furtively met. “Call me if you need to talk,” he offered.

“I will.”

She hurried toward the door as he began to walk away.

“Ty?”

He turned.

“I love you,” she called, bolting out of the lobby and into the waiting cab.

Immobilized, he stood watching the cab as it pulled away from the curb. Inside him, a solid wall of resistance sprang up, separating his heart from his head. The wall was there to make sure his gut response of, “Me, too,” never reached full cognizance. It was self-preservation, pure and simple. He couldn't afford to love this woman, not now, not when victory was so close he could almost feel the cold, shining silver of the Cup in his grasp.

Why did she have to say that to him? That, of all things?

“Hoist'em high,
boys, c'mon! To victory!”

Claps, cheers and hoots rumbled through the Chapter House. Everyone in the Blades organization raised yet another toast to the team. They'd just won themselves home-ice advantage in the first round of the Playoffs, in a fight-to-the-finish against North Carolina. Scanning the crowded room, Janna was filled with a profound respect for the players, who looked exhausted yet elated. These men had worked hard during the regular season, and it had paid off.

But her respect didn't mean she wouldn't still get in their faces if need be. Aware that there were a few journalists in the room, she pulled aside the notorious twosome Guy LaTemp and Barry Fontaine, whose foul language and bending of the elbow were bordering on the troublesome.

“Guys? Let's watch the drinking and the language, okay?”

“C'mon, Janna, lighten up,” said LaTemp.

“This is a party!” said Fontaine.

“I know that,” she said patiently. “All I'm asking is that you don't get trashed and say or do anything that might embarrass the team. In case you haven't noticed, there are some folks from the press here. The last thing we need is one of them reporting that the two of you still haven't gotten your act together since the strip club incident.”

Mention of their earlier indiscretion seemed to sober them up considerably.

“Fine,” LaTemp muttered. “We'll
behave
.”

“No problem,” Fontaine echoed.

“Thanks, guys.”

She'd come close to missing this celebration. Jack Cowley had taken Kidco's choosing her as the interim head of PR hard. The last thing she wanted to do was spend any out-of-the-office time with him—especially at a victory party. Kidco's decision had been a shock to her, too. She'd thought for sure Cowley's seniority guaranteed he'd be chosen to act in Lou's stead. She'd even considered telling Corporate to give it to him. Not because he deserved it—everyone knew she worked ten times harder than he did—but because at first the offer to fill Lou's shoes sent all her old demons of insecurity howling to the fore. She was convinced she wasn't up to the task and would screw up big time. In the end, though, the thought of taking orders from Jack Cowley far outweighed the terror of stepping up to the plate.

Scanning the crowd again, she was pleasantly surprised to see that the sore loser wasn't present. It looked like Cowley had opted to skip this party. That was fine by her. Of course, she would have to talk to him about his absence, a dreaded task. Well, that would be tomorrow. Tonight, she could relax—while still keeping an eye on the team, as always.

Ty seemed happily buzzed, his third Chivas going down smooth and effortless. Given the choice, she knew he would have preferred to just crawl home and get some much-needed sleep. But his teammates needed the release of a celebration, and they deserved it—within reason. Raising his glass for the first toast, he'd congratulated them even while cautioning them not to get too far ahead of themselves, reminding them that the hardest part of the battle still lay ahead.

In the dim, smoky light of the bar, Janna was overwhelmed with a rush of tenderness for him, despite the fact that ever since she'd told him she loved him, he'd been even more reserved. Not quite aloof, but more self-contained, if that made any sense. She hoped it was the game preoccupying him, not what she'd said. Sometimes she drove herself crazy trying to second-guess him. If Ty was upset by what she said, wouldn't he have told her? Answer: yes. Therefore, he wasn't upset.

A top-heavy waitress swirled by, with another platter of buffalo chicken wings. The din of conversation filling the bar was so loud it was difficult to make out the music being played, though Janna could feel the backbeat of the bass and drums pounding up through the floor beneath her feet. Ty took another long pull of his scotch, and cupping his hands to his mouth to be heard, leaned toward her.

“Wanna dance?”

Janna's eyes flicked to the crowded dance floor, where bodies were packed tight. The thought was tempting, but she was just too damn tired. She shook her head no.

“Aw, c'mon,” said Ty.

“Only if you'll do that shirtless photo shoot for
Cosmo
,” she parried loudly. She could barely hear herself think.

Ty frowned. “I'm an athlete, not a pinup boy.”

“You could be both.”

“No, thank you.”

She shrugged, and took another sip of her Sea Breeze. Corporate was hot to push the players as sex symbols, seeing a vast, untapped female market. Some of the younger, single guys had agreed to a cheesecake shoot. Others, notably Ty and Kevin Gill, had refused and would undoubtedly continue to do so. Janna couldn't blame them; deep down, she thought it was demeaning, too. But if it was what the Big Boys in Corporate wanted . . .

“C'mon.” Ty drained his glass and stood up, one hand firmly gripping Janna's elbow. “One dance.”

“Fine,” Janna capitulated. She was too tired to argue with him, especially since she'd never seen him with a snootful before. Besides, it would be a chance to feel that body of his against her.

She rose and let him lead her through the dense throng of bodies, recalling the first time they had danced together in this very bar the previous fall. Ty's teammates had been near apoplectic with shock at seeing their captain dance with his number one, off-ice nemesis. Things had certainly changed since then. No one seemed to be paying them the least bit of attention. Best of all, the awkwardness that had plagued them that first time was gone, replaced by a sense of ease borne of their standing intimacy with one another.
I wonder if anyone knows
, thought Janna.
I wonder if anyone can tell just by looking at us that we're lovers
.

Troubled by the thought, she tried to keep a pleasant, noncommittal expression on her face, but it was difficult. Whenever Ty touched her, the world fell away, leaving nothing but the two of them and the moment. That was the feeling she had now, the sense that they were the only two people in the room. If she closed her eyes and succumbed to it, she'd be finished. She forced conversation instead.

“Do you remember the first time we danced?” she asked, standing on tiptoes so he could hear her. Ty gave a tired smile as he nodded and pulled her closer, his hand slipping dangerously low on her back, almost to the point of cupping her rear. Drink had emboldened him. She flashed a quick look of warning. Frowning with dismay, Ty returned his hand to the small of her back.

“That first time we were here, you told me I should go after what I wanted,” Janna continued. “Do you still think that?”

“It depends,” he replied.

“On?”

His eyes met hers. “What it is you're going after.” His voice was cajoling as he leaned down to put his mouth right to her ear. “Let's not ruin tonight with serious talk, all right?”

Janna's breath caught. “All right.” The feeling of his lips brushing against her ear filled her with blossoming desire. He must have sensed this, because his mouth remained there, his hand exerting the slightest pressure to her back as he spoke again.

“If I don't have some real contact with you soon, I'm going to explode. Meet me in the courtyard behind the bar in five minutes.”

She looked up at him like he was nuts. “You're kidding, right?”

“No one goes in the courtyard, believe me.”

“Except the staff,” she felt compelled to point out. “What are you going to do, throw me down on a sack of potatoes?”

“Just trust me on this, okay?” He moved to leave the dance floor. “Five minutes,” he mouthed.

Janna watched as he stopped to chat with two of his teammates before calling over the buxom waitress who'd been serving them. The next thing she knew, he was following the woman through the swinging doors of the kitchen.

This is too risky,
she thought nervously.
But very exciting.
A faint thrumming had begun deep in her core—tantalizing and insistent. She casually edged her way back to the bar, completely convinced all eyes were on her and that an entourage would be following her into the kitchen. The next three minutes or so passed slower than Lou doing a fifty-yard dash. When the full five minutes were finally up, she sidled into the kitchen, where she found Ty standing next to the waitress, watching as she busily laid out carrots and celery on a tray.

“That's it,” he was saying as he nodded encouragingly. “More carrots. The guys really like the carrots with the buffalo wings.” He fixed the waitress with a desperate look. “Is there any place to grab a smoke around here? My friend and I have been jonesing for a cigarette all night.”

The waitress, who in Janna's estimation wore too much eyeshadow and not enough of a smile, jerked her head toward the back of the kitchen. “Courtyard. That's where we go to smoke. It's supposed to be staff only, but I'll make an exception for you,” she said suggestively, shooting a deadly look Janna's way.