Читать книгу Seducing The Matchmaker: One Man Rush / Taking Him Down / The Personal Touch - Meg Maguire - Страница 19

KYLE DIDN’T WASTE ANY time after the morning skate at the Pittsburgh facility. He was the first to shower and head back to the hotel; he’d promised Marissa he wouldn’t be gone for long when he’d left her early that morning. She’d wanted to talk since the night before, but he’d been concerned that she’d find some new reason why they shouldn’t be together, so he’d made a game of distracting her in every way imaginable at his hotel suite.

In the shower. Against the bedroom door. Then, endlessly on the king-size bed. By the time he’d decided they needed sustenance before they touched each other again, Marissa had fallen asleep.

Now, he took the back stairs to his room two at a time, not wanting to deal with any fallout from the pictures taken of him and Marissa in the nightclub. Most of the guys on the team hadn’t seen the articles yet, but the coach had gotten wind of it and cornered him about making his love life too high-profile. Nico Cesare had been none too pleased, insisting he hadn’t brought Kyle and Axel over from the Boston Bears to make social headlines. He expected good offense.

Kyle regretted that he’d disappointed Coach Cesare since it hadn’t been his intention to cause a distraction for his team. But damn it, he couldn’t afford the disruption of high-powered matchmakers dogging him for the rest of the season, either, and they’d magically evaporated today. There was no sign of them after practice. No texts on his phone from dating services asking him for meetings.

Marissa had delivered on getting them off his back. Which was perfect, because it cleared the way for him to focus on his game. And on Marissa. He shot like a pro through practice today, a surefire sign that being with her agreed with his game. If he could just get through the end of the season, they could have the summer together while he worked on his youth hockey camp.

It was the most long-term future he’d ever visualized for himself outside of his career goals. Sure, he’d always imagined a wife and kids someday, after he’d reached his potential on the ice.

But had he just really thought of “wife and kids” in the same moment as Marissa? He shook himself, not wanting to overthink something good. Marissa wasn’t looking for anything serious and neither was he. She needed to stay in Philadelphia with her mother while he would continue to travel with his team. Who even knew if he’d be with the Phantoms next year? But for now, what he had with Marissa last night had been perfect.

Kyle rapped lightly on the door in case she was still sleeping, then he used his room key when she didn’t answer.

“Marissa?” He rolled his shoulder as he set down his bag, hoping it hadn’t been a mistake to forego a session with the massage therapist after practice.

Damn it, he was already messing up his routines to be with her. Maybe when they got back to Philadelphia he’d be able to resurrect the rhythm of his training.

“In here,” she called, her voice oddly muffled from somewhere in the bedroom.

The lights were all on in the living area, and he could smell coffee from the pot on the wet bar. On the surface, the room looked like any of hundreds of others he’d stayed in over the years. But this one was different—a whole lot more welcoming—because Marissa was sharing it with him.

“I have time for breakfast if you’d like to go out,” he started, winding around a pull-out sofa and heading toward the bedroom. “I don’t want you to think I’m a cheap date. Last night couldn’t have been much fun at the club—hot damn.”

His jaw dropped when he got an eyeful of her still wearing a white terry-cloth towel, fresh from the shower. He wanted her for so many reasons that weren’t physical, and yet the power of the chemistry between them was like a hard check to the back. It robbed him of breath and made him see stars.

“Morning.” She smiled but pulled the towel tighter.

Part of her natural modesty, or a sign she was already resurrecting barriers?

He bent to kiss her bare shoulder, inhaling the clean scent of her soap.

“I wanted you before I even walked in here,” he told her, his hands gravitating toward her waist to smooth over the smooth fabric. “I thought about you all during practice.”

He’d practically sprinted to their floor. It boggled the mind to think how much he wanted to be with her after all the ways they’d pleasured each other the night before.

“Did your game still suffer for it today?” She turned in his arms, facing him head-on, the view of the historic district and the Delaware River glittering through a window behind her.

Obviously, she remembered that he hadn’t played well the day before when they hadn’t even been together yet. He’d sucked then because he’d been frustrated. She’d intimated that was his reason for being with her.

And there was definitely some kind of distance in her voice now. A reserve. He tried to battle back his hunger for her so he could hear her out.

“No,” he answered carefully, not wanting her to misinterpret his motives. “I was unstoppable in front of the net. As I should be.”

“You certainly don’t have a confidence problem, do you?” Her tone was teasing, but she looked at him curiously.

“I’ve been training for this since I was a peewee player. If I can’t make the hard shots, I don’t deserve to be here.”

“And I thought I put a lot of pressure on myself to succeed.” Marissa shook her head, her damp hair clinging to one shoulder. “Guess I don’t compare.”

“It’s not pressure,” he said, waving away the idea. “Success is a powerful reward.”

He backed toward the edge of the hotel bed, taking her with him. He’d been ruthless in distracting her repeatedly last night when she’d wanted to talk, so he would try his best to keep his hands off her long enough to hear her out.

“A reward? Does it really feel like a reward for you when one day of poor shooting has you thinking you don’t deserve to be in this league?” She looked up at him as she settled on the bed beside him.

Those violet eyes of hers disarmed him, making him question himself for a moment. But he couldn’t start coasting now when he was so close to achieving his goals. Not even for her. But he wouldn’t let it come to that.

“The reward comes when I hoist a championship trophy.” He’d been visualizing the moment for more than a decade. “Until then, I’ve got to keep working.”

“That’s a fierce work ethic,” she observed lightly. “I’m glad your practice went well, but I hate to think any wrinkle between us could have repercussions for your career.”

A warning note sounded in his ears.

“Wrinkle? Why would there be any wrinkle? Don’t tell me you thought last night was another mistake.”

She’d said as much about their first real kiss and she’d been dead wrong then, too.

“No.” She twisted her fingers through a corner of the bed sheet, weaving the fabric between each digit. “I don’t think it was a mistake, but then again, I never seem to have any perspective on my relationships.”

Her creamy skin called to him. He wanted to press her to the bed and forget everything else.

“You have perfect perspective. You’re with me and that’s a great idea.” He sensed her pulling away and didn’t understand why. The last two nights they shared had been incredible. He was already thinking about how they could be together through the rest of the play-offs. How he could come home to her in his hotel room more often. “Is this about me asking you to help me with the matchmakers? Because we’re in the clear now. I didn’t see any media vultures or matchmaking types outside the hotel.”

“It’s not about that.” She let go of the sheet and the towel knotted between her breasts shifted with the movement. “I’m grateful for the chance to help you out of a mess I created, and you were more than generous to offer payment for my assistance. I wrote your check out to the drug company to start my mother’s treatments, but I plan on paying you back.”

“Don’t even think about it. The matchmaking debacle wasn’t your fault. Although by now, I’m dying to know whose fault it was so I can inform Ms. Entitled that not everything can be bought for a price.” He resented the way a high-pressure client had put Marissa in such an awkward position professionally. And it doubly pissed him off that her client had upped the ante by hiring competing matchmakers to try to land him.

“She doesn’t feel entitled,” Marissa confided. Tucking some of her fallen hair behind her ear, she seemed tense. Nervous? “Hiring competing matchmakers was her wealthy father’s idea. I think it was a turning point in an uneasy relationship for her because she’s ventured out on her own since then.”

“Meaning she’s not taking daddy’s money to buy her dates anymore?” He found it difficult to be sympathetic when the woman’s manhunt had caused both him and Marissa a lot of grief.

“Meaning she moved out of a house her family owned, only taking her clothes and her dogs. I think she really wants to … find herself.”

Kyle frowned, trying to interpret her tone of voice.

“You admire her.”

She shrugged, the movement shifting the towel and reminding him how much he’d rather be touching her right now. But this was important. She was important. And something told him he needed to pay attention to whatever they were circling around. He studied her more intently.

“I’m proud of her. I’ve known her for a long time and I’ve known a lot of people like her for a long time. Sons and daughters of wealthy, entitled parents. It can be tough to forge your own identity in the shadow of so much success.”

“For you, too?” He remembered how professional she’d been at the Phantoms’ fundraiser, refusing to flirt with him no matter how hard he’d tried to corner her for a kiss.

She’d been cool, controlled. And, he’d guessed, very sure of herself. Had he read her all wrong?

“Maybe. I took the job as my mother’s manager because, quite honestly, she couldn’t do it alone. She’s a handful for any manager, but she always listened to me. Matchmaking was always the job I loved best, at least until I needed the income and it became more stressful.” She toyed with the hem of the towel, her fingers traveling everywhere but on him. “But sometimes I wonder what path I might have chosen if I hadn’t fallen into being her manager. In a lot of ways, I was the caretaker even before her accident.”

“So you’d like to start over, professionally.” He wanted to cover her hand where she played with the hem of the towel, cup her knee and smooth his way up her thigh. But he knew she needed to talk about this. That he needed to listen.

“Someday. When she’s better. I’ve managed someone else’s career for too long. It’s time to start figuring out my own.”

“You should come on the road with me for a while,” he offered. “You’ve been working so hard—”

“And I need to keep working hard if I want to be there for my mother. She has a long road to recovery.” Her expression warned him this was a tread-lightly zone.

But damn it, he wasn’t just suggesting it for selfish reasons.

“Have you considered other options for her? Getting some more help taking care of your mother?”

She straightened.

“I will not move her into assisted living. She’s going to recover. She’s so young—”

“I’m not suggesting assisted living. I wouldn’t presume to know the right time for a move like that.” Although he certainly understood the desire to keep loved ones close. He shared a tight bond with his whole family. “But sometimes we’re so close to the people we love it’s hard to see—”

“I know.” She nodded, her shoulders sagging. “But how can I make changes now when her doctors say that maintaining routine might be helpful for her recovery? This isn’t an exact science, and I get a lot of conflicting advice about how to handle her therapy, but I’ve seen firsthand that she’s more relaxed at home than when I have to take her in for appointments. How can I ignore what’s best for her to indulge a personal whim?”

“I wouldn’t call the decision to go on the road with me a whim. I just told the press we were together, so that’s got to count for something.” Now he was the one with his back up. “Come to Tampa Bay for the next game. See how it feels.”

“Just because we tell the press we’re a couple doesn’t make it so. We both said we didn’t want a relationship, right?” She kept her voice gentle. “So if what we have together now isn’t a relationship, then I think it’s just … self-indulgent.”

Sex was self-indulgent?

Not until that moment did he fully appreciate that she had very traditional values. Yet the signs had been there from the start. The skirt to the knee and the vintage sixties clothes that had been sexy in a buttoned-up way. Moving into her mother’s guest house to care for her when so many people would have let professionals handle her care. Wearing a wedding ring to ensure single men didn’t hit on her during her work. Hell, even her job screamed conservative, family-oriented ideals. She worked to bring people together into meaningful relationships.

Happily-freaking-after.

The light bulb that flicked on in his brain over all that was so bright he blinked stupidly, trying to reassess what this meant for them.

“Self-indulgent,” he finally repeated. No doubt she’d only made this trip to soothe her guilt over her role in making him a target for matchmakers.

While she was attracted to him, she apparently viewed sex as a hedonistic pleasure until she found the real thing.

Love.

“It would be nice to have the freedom to make the choice to do things just for me.” She tipped her forehead to his chest. “I’ve had more fun with you these last few days than I’ve had in a long time.”

His arms went around her on instinct. And because he really, really wanted to hold her. He’d had a great time being with her, too. Would she feel differently about going on the road with him if they defined the relationship somehow? But this wasn’t high school and he couldn’t risk complicating things any more.

He’d never intended to make these kinds of decisions while his career was in high gear. He was crazy about her. Might even … yeah. He might have bigger feelings for her, too.

But for right now, he needed to focus on his game. With a win tonight, the Phantoms would clinch their division. A surefire play-off berth.

And not even the hottest woman on earth was going to distract him from achieving everything he’d worked for.

“Stay for tonight’s game, okay?” His chest burned when he thought about letting her go. “But if you still want to leave in the morning, I’ll call around and book a flight home for you tomorrow.”

ISAAC HAD PLANNED HIS approach with Stacy carefully. He’d drawn up a mental blueprint and considered various executions to increase his chances for success.

Yet he’d never envisioned the level of enthusiasm of her response.

She was in his arms in a flash, her freshly washed hair still damp from a morning shower. With her arms wrapped around his neck, the silk robe and the jacket he’d given her had parted, allowing him to feel her curves through nothing more than thin cotton pajamas.

Her lush breasts pressed against his chest and her mouth fitted to his in a kiss that started out sweet and slowly turned … wow. Too erotic for a street corner. A whistle from the driver of a passing car told him as much even if he’d been too overwhelmed to string the thought together himself.

“We should … wait,” he urged, breaking away from the kiss while still holding her close. He couldn’t pry himself much farther from her. “This probably isn’t the best place for—”

“Making out?” she suggested, her blue eyes full of mischief as she rolled her hips against his.

Without question, she could feel how much he wanted more than a make-out session.

“That, either.” He dragged in a deep breath to try to will away his reaction, but Stacy didn’t help matters when she smoothed a palm down his chest and dragged her fingers lower.

“Why don’t you come inside and warm up first?” she suggested. “You only just arrived.”

A gray-haired woman walked by wheeling a small cart with a grocery sack strapped to it, her appearance reminding him to back off the public display of affection. But as Isaac tugged Stacy toward the side of the street, the woman winked at him.

“I don’t want to misinterpret this,” he began, not trusting his instincts when they were operating on a primal level. “Are you seducing me?”

Her eyebrows lifted. A small smile twitched the corner of her lush lips.

“I’d prefer you seduce me—”

A roar of satisfaction surged through him and it took all his willpower not to pin her to the brick wall of the building and kiss her until they forgot their names. Instead, he spun her in his arms and steered her toward the entrance to the inn. Staying close behind her, he wrapped an arm around her waist to hold the jacket closed over her delectable body.