Playing for Hearts (42 page)

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Authors: Debra Kayn

Tags: #romance, #contemporary

BOOK: Playing for Hearts
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Dominic withdrew, then thrust again, and the whole time he stared down at her. She didn't have to see his eyes behind the sunglasses, because she knew he only looked at her.

She locked her legs around his hips and hooked her arms around his neck. Dominic came down to his elbows, continually riding her body. She arched up to kiss him. To her surprise, Dominic kissed her back, but took total control.

He was gentle, and so sweet she thought all her dreams were coming true. She moaned. Her body spiraled higher. Oh, God.

His hands, his thighs, his hips claimed her. But his mouth showed her what he wasn't saying in words. Staked to the bed, consumed by everything Dominic, Diana cried out his name in the most wonderful, soulful release. He'd gone still, his breathing ragged a millisecond before he groaned, burying his head in her neck.

It was in that quiet moment, Diana saw something so beautiful, so potent, and so scary, she knew without a doubt what she must do. Her stomach soured at the thought. She'd convinced herself she could return to Cottage Grove with no regrets.

It was too late.

She loved Dominic with every breath in her body. He'd opened her eyes, showed her a side of him she would never have seen — that no other person had seen. If he hadn't stalked her and not given up, her life would be poorer.

She squeezed her eyes closed. Now she was sitting on a half million dollars, in love with a professional hockey player who couldn't be in her life, and her dream of owning the Ferriday house were coming true. She should be happy. Her arms tightened around Dominic. All she could think about was how little time they had left together.

Chapter Twenty-Two

In the hectic rush of Dominic getting ready for the Sharks versus Red Wings game, Diana carried her luggage out to the living room. She'd already washed the bedding, remade the bed, cleaned the bathroom, and stolen his jersey. There was nothing left to do.

Dominic would take her to the airport on his way to the game. If she stopped for too long, thought too much about the moment, she'd start crying. She'd never voiced what she really wanted.

He never asked her to stay, and deep in her heart, she knew her life was back in Cottage Grove. Once she arrived at the hotel, she'd let herself have a good cry for losing a man who'd stolen her heart. Then she'd walk to the real estate office and slap down the money for the Ferriday house to get over how hard it was going to be to find the strength to walk away from someone like Dominic.

Dominic's keys jingled. She turned and winced. The serious Dominic was back. His eyes colder than ice stared back at her.

“Do you want to drive?” He tilted his head to the side.

She picked one of the bags off the floor. “No, you can.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth, his jaw twitching. “I'll get the rest of the bags and put them in the trunk.”

“Thanks.” She followed him into the garage.

On the road, she stared at his hand on the gearshift. The white scars over his knuckles from all the rough play on the rink, the broad width of years of building his muscles, and the callouses from hours of work and dedication for a sport he loved would stay engraved in her head for the rest of time. Yet all she could conjure at the moment was the soft touch of his fingers against her skin. She sighed.

“You okay?” He reached over and squeezed her hand.

She nodded. “Yeah. I just … ”

“What?”

“I'm happy we became friends, Dom.” She smiled. “Thank you for asking me to help you. I'll never forget you or the last two weeks.”

He glanced out the side window. “Me, neither, sweetcheeks.”

Geez. Sweetcheeks. She'd even miss him calling her fat when he really didn't mean she was
fat
.

At the small runway for private aircrafts, Dominic handed her items over to the co-pilot. She stood alongside the plane, not ready to go. There were so many things she hadn't told him, so many things they hadn't done. Most of all, she waited for him to change her mind about leaving. All she needed was him asking her to stay.

Dominic walked over to her. She held her breath. This was it.

He reached into his pocket, removed his wallet, and withdrew a check. “Here you go. If you have any problems cashing it, let me know.”

She stared at the zeroes until they all blurred together and were unrecognizable. She forced a laugh. “Don't forget, my dad's a banker, remember?”

“Right.” He looked off into the distance.

“I won't forget about naming one of the rooms after the great hockey player Dominic Chekovsky either. It'll be the best room at the bed and breakfast.” She laughed softly to keep from crying. “Any time you want to stay at the B and B, I won't even charge you.”

His mouth hardened. She frowned.

“Dom?” She stepped in front of him and waited for him to look at her.

He'd closed himself off. She wanted to tell him to keep playing hockey in his socks, to dance and forget about time, and to drive with the top down on the Porsche with the radio cranked full blast. Yet she was afraid he'd do that with some other woman, and she couldn't find the strength to think about what comes next for him.

“I better get on the plane.” She rose onto her tiptoes and kissed him soft and long. The warmth that always came filled her chest and she trembled. Forcing herself to go before she changed her mind, she stepped back. “I'll see you in Cottage Grove some time, right?”

He inhaled deeply. “Maybe.”

“Goodbye, Dom.” She smiled sadly.

“Have a safe flight, sweetcheeks,” he whispered.

She turned away before he saw her tears. The co-pilot helped her into the charter plane and she sat down, buckling the harness. When the plane rolled forward, she turned to the window.

Dominic stood watching the plane, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. She put her fingers on the glass. He dropped his chin to his chest, turned, and walked away from her.

• • •

Four hours later, Dominic sat in the penalty box after letting his anger continue to fester over letting Diana walk away. He itched to get back in the game after a five-minute penalty. There were three minutes to go in the last half of the game, and he wanted back in. More than anything he wanted Craig Brown, and he wanted to make him hurt.

Hurt the way he'd hurt Diana. It was as if she couldn't wait to leave him, and that confused him. They'd grown closer during their time together.

Last night, he thought he'd won the lottery. He'd lain there in her embrace, his hips resting between her thighs, her arms around his neck, and their breath mingling. For the first time, he felt at home. After all these years of coping with his schedule, his life, his career, and being away from his home country, he'd reveled in knowing he was right where he wanted to be for the rest of his life.

Nothing, not his parents, hockey, his team, his community brought him the peace and contentment that Diana gave him. Every time she looked at him, he filled with energy. He wanted to do better, go bigger, and be a man she could be proud to walk beside. He loved teasing her, because he noticed the way she drew closer until her body softened against him. His chest tightened. He wanted to protect her and make sure she'd never leave him.

He hit his hockey stick against the wall holding him back. Anger built inside of him. He already missed her.

She'd walked out of his life, and he let her go like a fool. The last smile she gave him said everything. He'd hurt her. He'd failed. He'd lost her.

Maybe he was foolish to believe they could work something out between them. Was it even fair of him to ask her to tie herself to life with a hockey player who had to put the team first and spend his days on the rink?

All he had to do was get through this game, and then he could deal with what happened today. He ground his teeth together and concentrated on the penalty clock. All he needed was time to get his head in the right spot, the game behind him, and then he'd figure out his next move.

He'd fucked up.

Useless to stop Diana from walking away from him, he deserved all the torment he was under. Nothing was the same without her by his side. He had no idea what any woman wanted from him, especially Diana.

She'd accused him of wanting her for sex, and he'd let her walk away as if all they had was a good time and it was over. He'd lived up to her original opinion of him.
Shit.

The buzzer went off and the door swung open. He raced out across the ice, picking up the pass from the forward, and skated full speed ahead. Brown zeroed in on him from the side, he passed the puck off, cut across the blue line, and came out behind his opponent. He trailed the edge of his stick along the ice, waiting.

The opening came the same time Brown glanced behind him. He captured the puck. Left, right, left, raised his stick, and Brown crushed him against the board. He bounced back, punching the other player in the face. His head snapped to his shoulder, and he continued to wail.

The referee forged between them. Bradley skated in and pushed him away from Brown. He ripped off his gloves, his helmet, and threw them across the ice.

“Check it, man.” Bradley got in his face. “Coach is going to have your ass. That's three penalties in one game.”

“Go to hell.” He pushed himself away and slid back in the penalty box.

He looked at the scoreboard. Hell. Game over. The Sharks won, but he still ran strong and hot. He studied the stands, going straight to Diana's spot in the team's private area. The seat next to Stephanie's was empty.

Nobody paid him any attention. The women cheered for the team, not the man in the penalty box. He leaned back and hit the bench. He should've asked Diana to stay.

The whole morning he could tell she had something to say, and then he'd catch her walking away. He'd wanted to talk to her. She had one more day of vacation left. They could've spent it together. Maybe even taken the time to visit the local beach or go sightseeing. He hadn't shown her everything he promised.

The buzzer rang. He left the box, skated toward the huddle of players, and went through the after game motions. His heart wasn't in the game today.

He avoided Coach and hit the showers. All invitations to join the players at Julia's Bar and Grill bounced off him, and he shrugged his way out of the locker room when his teammates tried to talk with him. He had nothing to say.

The fans gathered at the back door of the arena. He ignored the cheers and walked straight to his car. Truly alone and unbothered, he drove to the condominium.

The inside of the Porsche smelled of jasmine. He cranked the radio. The Top Forty station blared. Not wanting to listen to Diana's favorite music, he switched the station and let DDT fill the car.

With another practice tomorrow and a game after that, he couldn't leave. He ignored the road leading to the condominium, and kept driving. Not ready to go back to an empty house, he hit the highway.

Diana had woven herself into his life, and nothing remained the same. Not hockey, not his social life, and not his bed. He pushed the accelerator down, and wished she were here to laugh as he speeded along. She delighted in the smallest things, and made him enjoy every second with her.

Red and blue lights flashed in his rearview mirror. He slowed down and turned on his blinker.
Shit.

Coach would not be happy over him getting a ticket and making the news. He shut off the engine and let his hands fall in his lap. He was falling apart.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Quayside Lounge buzzed with the usual Friday night crowd. Diana sat next to the window in the back, across from Kate, Shauna, and a visiting Crista for their Girls' Night Out. Her mood fought with the upbeat music playing, and the Cosmo she'd nursed the last hour only marginally made the night tolerable.

“Should we join the guys in the game room?” Kate took a compact mirror out of her purse and applied lipstick. “Maybe some testosterone will lighten the mood.”

“Shh.” Shauna elbowed Kate. “We're doing fine out here. This is fun. I don't want to watch no stupid game on television with the guys.”

The game room slash sports bar of the lounge was playing the San Jose Sharks game, no doubt. Diana shook her head. “Go ahead. I'm going to make it an early night.”

“Diana … ” Shauna leaned against the table. “Tell us what happened. You left town without telling any of us how you felt about going off with Dominic, and you've hid in your room at the hotel since you got back. We're worried about you. I thought you and Dominic were getting together, or at least into each other.”

“There's nothing to say.” She finished the rest of her drink. “I had a job, and now it's time to get back to my normal life.”

Crista wadded her napkin. “I don't even know what you guys are talking about. It seems like I miss all the gossip when I'm gone.” She crossed her arms. “Which stops now, because I'm supposed to be your friend. But if it has to do with Dominic, I can guess what happened. Diana fell for Dominic's seductive ways. It happens every single time. I don't know how many times I've seen women walk away from him with a broken heart. It's a crime.”

“Why haven't you ever ended up with him?” Diana sat up straighter. “I mean, you've known Dominic longer than I have.”

“I tried … sorta. Well, at least as much as Dominic allowed someone to get close to him emotionally. We hung out.” Crista shrugged. “We didn't have sex, if you're curious, but I made a fool of myself over him like all the other women. Dominic pretty much ignored me. Now I just make sure I'm never alone with him, because I don't want to embarrass myself. It helps that when I do see him, I'm usually in training and all I have on my mind is the race. End of history.”

“Diana doesn't do anything stupid. She's the most secure, rational, organized person I know.” Shauna waved her hand at the waitress, waited for her to approach, and then ordered another round of drinks. “You can't go to the hotel until we get the whole story about what happened between your phone calls to me, and arriving in Cottage Grove looking like you broke the heel on a pair of Jimmy Choos.”

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