Misconduct (Hot Ice series Book 6) (16 page)

I froze, trapped between him and the window. I’d never felt
more hemmed in, more devoid of an escape route. Not that I wanted to escape
him.

I closed my eyes and braced myself to be strong.

But could I be? All I wanted was to fall into his arms.
Temptation was a bitch and she was slapping me on the butt.

I prayed he wouldn’t say something sweet or tell me he
regretted his decision for us not to be together or, heaven forbid, actually
touch me. I’d weaken to mush if he did that. Gone would be the efficient,
competent Miss Gunner, I’d just be sweet cheeks lost in his arms, ready to
block out the rest of the world and sacrifice my dignity to be with him on
whatever terms he wanted.

He touched me on my right shoulder.

I juddered in a breath.

“Gina,” he whispered.

My actual name once again sounded foreign on his lips.
“What?” I swallowed, but my mouth was dry and I was sure he could hear the
scraping in my throat.

“I just…” He trailed off.

“Tell me.”

He slid his arm down my shoulder, to my elbow and onto my
hand. I stared at his thick, hairy forearm, at the way the tendons moved
beneath his tanned skin and how his three thread bracelets sat on his wrist a
little crooked. I loved his arms. I loved his touch. I wanted nothing more than
to rest back into him, tell him everything, remove my mask and just be me
again.

“On the island,” he murmured, his lips by my ear. “I’ve
never felt so—”

“Huh-hum.”

The loud clearing of a throat behind us snapped Dustin away
from me. His touch and his body heat were gone in an instant. He wasn’t called
Speed for nothing.

Heart skittering, I folded my arms, set my jaw tight and
turned.

Vadmir stood in the doorway, his blond hair also damp and a
leather jacket over the same Viper logo t-shirt Dustin was wearing.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” he asked, looking
between us with his pale eyebrows raised.

“No, buddy, just finalizing a contract.” Dustin walked over
to him and slapped his hand on Vadmir’s shoulder, the sound of flesh on leather
creating a
crack
. “Seems our new boss is pretty smart at getting what
she wants out of us.”

“I wouldn’t argue with that.” Vadmir grinned at me in that
predatory way of his and I remembered what Dustin had said about him chewing me
up and spitting me out had I gone to bed with him back at the hotel.

Not that I would have. It seemed Dustin “Speed” Reed had
been the only man I could think of since the very first time he’d called me
sweet cheeks. No one else had been on my radar since, despite being surrounded
by a glut of hot guys.

And he’d just walked away from me all over again.

“What can I do for you, Vadmir?” I asked, sitting and
placing my hands beneath the table. They were shaking, which annoyed me. I
shouldn’t have let Dustin get to me like that. Shouldn’t have let him get so
close and I absolutely shouldn’t have allowed Vadmir to catch us like that. It
was hardly professional conduct for the new boss of the Vipers.

“I’ve got a problem,” Vadmir said, walking up to the desk.
“Back home.”

“In Russia?’

“Yes, my father, he is ill, seriously ill. I need to go to
him as soon as possible.”

“Well, of course—”

“But you are worried about the game tomorrow night, Miss
Gunner. I know I should stay and—”

I held up my hand. “Hey, I know what you’re going through.
It’s not so long ago I raced back from Paris to my father who was critically
ill. You should go now if that’s what you want.”

He shook his head and frowned.

“Listen,” I said, “you’re a valuable member of the team, the
last thing we want is for you to not be here, but family comes first and if
he’s that sick…”

“He is, I just spoke with my mother, she is… How do you
say…? In bits and pieces.”

“Then there is no question about it, you’re needed. Mike
will figure it out with the lineup, this is why we have subs, for injuries and
emergencies just like this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course.” I frowned. “And I hope he’s all right when
you get there.”

Vadmir shook his head and rubbed his fingers over his
forehead. “That is what I hope for too.”

“Can you fly today?”

“No, next flight to Moscow is tomorrow morning. And then
once I arrive I must take a drive of four hours to Vologda.”

“Well, safe journey, and here.” I handed him one of my
business cards. “My personal cell number is on there. Let me know if there is
anything I can do to help from this end.”

He took the card and stared at it, looking exhausted and
relieved all at the same time. “Thank you, Miss Gunner. I really appreciate you
understanding like this. It is more than I could have hoped.”

“It’s no problem at all.”

“We’re lucky to have you.” He nodded. “I can see that now.
The team, I mean. Lucky to have you.”

“Thanks.” I smiled for the first time since I’d applied a
Band-Aid to my heart. “That means a lot.”

Vadmir left and I nibbled my bottom lip. He would be missed,
he was a great player, but I did believe family came first. It was the way I
was wired.

I opened my laptop, intent on tackling a few more emails,
but I couldn’t concentrate. All I could think of was what Dustin had been about
to say. On the island he’d never felt so what? Relaxed, hot for it, in love?
No. I shook my head, not that last one. Impossible.

I stroked my arm, retracing his touch. What would have
happened if Vadmir hadn’t interrupted us? Perhaps Dustin would have gone on to
say how much he regretted being with me, that it was going to be awkward beyond
belief now and not worth a few days of fun and a couple of wild and sexy romps.

I dropped my head, plastered my fingers over my face and
groaned. No, he wasn’t like that, I was sure of it. I’d seen the soft center he
kept hidden beneath his tough outer shell. He was a guy who loved kids, helped
out whenever he could, wasn’t afraid to stand up to what was right and what was
wrong. All of those were qualities that had made me fall for him hook, line and
sinker. Would he really spin on a dime and be so cruel to me now?

It was something I couldn’t imagine and didn’t want to. The
only thing for it was to accept that we’d been a fling. Nothing more and
nothing less.

* * * * *

The game against the Red Wings had the players on edge, so
Mike told me in the corridor outside the locker room. With Vadmir out and after
the previous week’s defeat, spirits were not as high as they should be. Add in
Raven needing extra rest because of an old injury flaring up and the mood in
the locker room was solemn.

I wrung my hands together, wishing I hadn’t decided to carry
on Dad’s crazy tradition of giving a pregame pep talk. Now not only did I have
to worry about what to say to all the sullen big hunks of muscle in there, I
also had to face the man who’d stolen every one of my dreams the night before.

His face had loomed from the darkness, smiling, laughing,
teasing, coming. I’d seen his every expression in my sleep and loved them all.
When I’d woken, in that moment before fantasy turned back to reality, I’d
reached for him, stupidly expecting to find his hot, hard body warming the
sheets of my bed, ready to warm me.

“Shall we?” Mike asked, opening the door.

“Sure.” I stepped in. I wore the same cream power suit I’d
worn the day before, but instead of scarlet blouse and heels, I’d picked
emerald green. The top was silky with a ruffled collar and the shoes had peep
toes.

As always the scent of male bodies and the distant smell of
ice made me feel slightly out of place and ultrafeminine, a combination I found
both alluring and unsettling. I forced down a glut of nerves, visualized the
speech I’d rehearsed as if it were written in front of me, and followed Mike.

“Miss Gunner,” Ramrod said. His face grim was grim and he
was banging his gloved hands together, creating sharp whacking sounds.

“Ramrod.” I nodded and looked around the room, purposely
skimming my gaze over Dustin. But that was a hard task. Bigger than everyone
else because of his padding and swirling his stick in his hands, he drew my
attention the moment I spoke.

“I know we’ve had a rough hand dealt this week, guys, but
when the going gets tough the tough get going, right? And I know you can do
this.” I clenched my fists and tore my gaze from Dustin. “My father’s told me
how we’ve wiped the floor with these wannabes in the past and I don’t see why
that can’t happen again.”

“Yeah, that’s right, damn wannabes,” Brick said with a
snarl. “We’ll show ’em.”

A selection of gruff cheers and murmurs of agreement
filtered around the hot locker room.

“I’m not going to tell you how to play, that’s not my job.”
I glanced at Mike. “He does that, but I want you to all know I’m rooting for
you, holding my breath for you, willing in here.” I touched my chest, looked
back at Dustin. “In my heart for you to kick ass and get those damn goals.”

A collective cheer went up. Several players stood, towering
over me. Yet again I tore my gaze from Dustin then hurried out of the way as
Phoenix set his focus on getting to the ice with Brick hot on his tail. I
didn’t think they’d hesitate to barge right through me.

“Well done,” Mike said with a smile as players clattered
past. “A quick boost is all they need. To know you care.” He touched my arm
lightly, and then headed out.

I turned. There was only Dustin left in the locker room. He
was staring at me with that about-to-frown crease between his eyes again.

“Are you planning on playing, or what?” I asked, folding my
arms and going for stern. It was that or hurl myself at him.

“Huh? Of course.” He stepped up to me and I had to tilt my
head way back to look at his face. His skates were pushing him to well over
six-and-a-half-feet tall.

“I just needed to clear something with you first,” he said.

“What’s that?” He’d shaved, his jaw was smooth, the scar on
his bottom lip more noticeable. There was a time I would have just reached out
and touched it, touched him. But I couldn’t do that anymore. He wasn’t mine to
touch.

“The contract, the three years. When’s it going public?”

“Whenever you want it to. I’m proud that we’re getting to
keep you. It’s no secret as far as I’m concerned.”

“No secret?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“You don’t like secrets, do you?” he asked.

“No, honesty is the best policy, so I was always taught.”

“I agree.”

“Speed, Jesus, get out here,” Mike shouted around the door.
“Like now.”

“Yep, coming.”

Dustin didn’t move. Instead he just lowered his head. For a
moment I thought he might kiss me, but then he breathed deep, shut his eyes and
said, “Damn, why do you always smell so damn intoxicating it’s like a fucking
drug to me?”

I opened my mouth, about to ask what the hell he meant, but
he disappeared. Three huge paces and he’d left me standing there gaping and
wondering what I was supposed to do about being his drug when in my heart I
knew that he was mine too.

* * * * *

The puck dropped and the crowd roared. A drum was banging a
frantic beat in the corner and my heart seemed to thump in time with it. I was
in the skybox today and I could see that Mike was on his feet, as were the
other coaches. I alternated, my shoes requiring a little sit-down time, but
every skim of the puck in Dustin’s direction and I leaped up, clasped my hands
and willed him to stop it.

He did.

The first period went by. Brick had scored the only point
after a face-off but had also been sent to the sin bin for two minutes. Mike
appeared to want to both slap him around the head and hug him.

The Red Wings were playing hard and fast, not dirty but not
quite clean either. Two players swooped in on Phoenix, cornered him into the
boards and stole the puck. Mike hollered for Ramrod to back him up, but he
needn’t have bothered, Ramrod had seen a break, thrown his bulk through the
opposition sending two sprawling, and grabbed what he wanted. Another goal was scored
much to the frantic delight of the home crowd, and the drum beat so loud I
feared for my hearing.

During the remainder of the second period the puck didn’t go
near Dustin because the Viper’s defense was impenetrable. He was on high alert
though, guarding the mouth of the goal, his concentration never leaving the
game. I couldn’t help but wonder that he was the same man who’d given up
control to me so trustingly and sweetly on the island. Confessed his desires,
become vulnerable and allowed me to enter not just his mind but also his body.

I thought of the threads on his wrist, of the young boy they
represented and wished I could take away the pain I’d seen in Dustin’s eyes as
he’d talked of the loss of a friend. I hoped he did have children of his own one
day. It was clear he’d make an awesome father.

Mike leaped up and I could lip-read him shouting, “Go, go,
go.”

I joined him just in time to see Phoenix score on a
one-timer from the center line.

Mike was grinning broadly as he punched the air.

“Yes!” I shouted and clapped.

But I’d spoken too soon. The Red Wings had come back strong,
dumping the puck on an accurate slide toward Dustin. It scooted round his left
skate and the sound of it
pinging
off the goalpost as it angled to the
back of the net made my heart sink.

“Off-fucking-sides,” Mike appeared to yell, just as the ref
signaled the same.

“Thank God for that,” I murmured with a shake of my head.

Mike jabbed at his right temple and leaned over the boards.

I did my best to lip-read his next words, which looked like
“Watch the damn game, Speed. Concentrate, will you!”

Dustin glanced Mike’s way and then upward at me. He firmed
up his shoulders and swayed slightly from side to side as though maximizing his
size, setting his attention back on the puck.

The third period began with the Vipers two goals in the
lead. Tension ran hot through my veins as the minutes moved slowly. But
eventually the final buzzer went with the score unchanged.

When the players finally left the ice and their adoring
crowd, I couldn’t get down into the locker room quickly enough.

When I got there the atmosphere was electric, on fire. The
win had been just what the Vipers needed and, after being so embroiled in their
depression after the Rangers defeat, I wanted a bit of the high, some of the
good stuff.

The noise was deafening, shouts and yeehas and a whole load
of back slapping. Several players had their tops off and I was met with a sea
of skin and rippling muscles. All had their helmets off and were sporting bad
hair and flushed faces. They looked like they’d taken on the world and won.

“Hey, boss, are you happy?” Brick called over to me with a
wide grin.

“Yes. Very.” I smiled back and nodded enthusiastically.
“Well played.”

He pushed toward me, bent down and kissed me on the cheek, quickly
and a little hard. “Helps having eye candy around.”

I laughed at the cheeky glint in his eye. “And all the hours
of training and a seriously huge quantity of talent.”

“That too,” he nodded and chuckled.

Suddenly I was picked up high by two dinner-plate-sized
hands around my waist. I gasped and looked down at Ramrod.

“Fucking amazing, eh?” he shouted over the din. “What do you
think, boss?”

“That, yes. Fucking amazing.”

He twirled another three sixty then set me down. I staggered
slightly and bumped into Phoenix, who was popping the cork on a magnum of
champagne. The fizz tumbled out. Mike and Price tried to catch it but Phoenix
was letting it spurt upward in a shower of bubbles. A few big drops hit my
cheek and I laughed and swiped at them.

Another two players planted kisses on my face. Another cork
hit the ceiling and Ramrod shouted something disrespectful about the Red Wings
and received yet another big cheer. The sound went right through me, thrilling
me. I was completely caught up in their achievement, their excitement. I could
see why Dad had found it so addictive, so enjoyable to be part of a hockey team
and to keep it alive and kicking and keep his players winning and happy.

I spotted Dustin. He was on the opposite side of the locker
room, peeling off his shoulder padding. His eyes were blazing as he stared
straight back at me. His lips were a flat line. I wasn’t sure if he was
thrilled about the win or annoyed that I was there celebrating with everyone.