his place. I’m so sorry. I tried to say no, but he’s very persuasive.”
“All right, just stay where you are. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Have you tried calling his cell phone?”
“He doesn’t answer. Do you think he might have been in an accident?”
“No, no! I’ll be there in a few minutes.” She turned off her phone and tossed back the bedcovers. It shouldn’t have been any surprise that it had taken Thom Quinn less than a day to break the rules.
She crawled out of bed. When she reached the bathroom, Malin ran a comb through her tangled hair and took a few extra seconds with her makeup, then pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a loose shirt.
Five minutes later she was on the road, and ten minutes later she pulled up in front of Thom Quinn’s place. At first she had to recheck the address. She was parked in front of an old firehouse. But when Jason appeared on the sidewalk, she knew she’d found the right place.
“I can’t do this job, Malin,” he said, pacing the sidewalk. “How am I supposed to sleep? And if he decides to go somewhere without me, how can I force him? He could just punch me and knock me out or—”
“Get you drunk?”
“Exactly! I think you picked the wrong person for this job. I’m just not ready.”
“Maybe we could put a bell around his neck,” she muttered as she stepped inside the front door. She dropped her bag on a nearby table, then slowly began to explore the house. “Wow,” she said with a gasp. “This place is—”
“I know,” Jason said. “He did all this himself. He’s my hero. If I could do something like this, my father would think I was amazing. He’d probably talk to me again.”
“Jason, why don’t you take off. I can handle this on my own. It would probably be better if you weren’t here when Thom got back.”
“Am I fired?” Jason asked.
“No. Just reassigned. This one was always going to be tricky. It just turned out to be more difficult than I thought.”
“Tommy’s angry because he saw on the news that they’re going to trade him. He said you lied to him. Is he going to be traded?”
She shrugged. “Probably. But I’m going to make the case for him to stay if he’ll cooperate and if I can get a few more people to back me. It could be our little project.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because if I were the general manager of this club, I’d find a way to turn him into a hero off the ice as well as on it. He can be fixed, and I’m the one to do it. And when it’s time for me to run this club, people will remember how I saved Tommy ‘The Beast’ Quinn.”
Jason laughed. “You want to be general manager? That’s pretty funny.”
She gave him a withering glare, shaking her head. “Would you like to rethink that statement?”
“Sorry,” Jason said. “I’ll just be going.”
“Can you drive?”
He nodded. “I really am sorry. And I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”
Malin walked Jason to the front door, then locked it behind him. Leaning back against the wood, she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. With Jason acting as a buffer, it would have been easier for her to keep a professional distance. But less than twenty-four hours after reaching an agreement with Thom, he’d broken it—and she was forced to step in. It was clear he needed a firmer hand, a more determined personality.
Malin wasn’t about to let one little bump in the road deter her. She wouldn’t stop until she’d achieved her goal. She’d tame The Beast or die trying.
Proving her worth to her father had been a lifetime challenge. Her older brothers had it easy. Hockey was a natural fit for them, and they’d played from the time they could balance on skates until they’d been brave enough to quit. The eldest, Daniel, was now a resident in cardiac surgery, and her other brother, Kristian, worked as an attorney for the US Justice Department. They had no interest in running the team. But the moment her father had called, she’d left a prestigious job in New York to take her chances with the team.
She walked back to the kitchen, taking in the details of Thom Quinn’s home. It certainly wasn’t what she’d expected. Most of the single guys on the team lived in one of the city’s luxury high-rise condos. But Thom’s home showed his artistic side. He was obviously good with his hands. Malin groaned. His hands again. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about his hands.
She tried to refocus on his home. The place had never been profiled in any of the city’s glossy magazines, even though it deserved to be. With her media contacts, she could get an article placed in the next few months.
She wandered through the old fire station, taking in all the details, trying to imagine how a photographer might shoot it.
The cream-colored brick walls were exposed throughout the entire building, and massive wood beams supported each wall. At one time the lower level must have housed horses, because Thom had left the old sliding doors in place.
She paused just inside his bedroom door, wondering if her tour ought to stop there. She was interested in the decor, but there were too many other things that came to mind when she glanced inside his bedroom.
The room was huge, spacious and airy, with a huge bed against one wall. She took a few steps further so she could see inside his bathroom—floor-to-ceiling dark gray marble with a steam shower and a whirlpool tub. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she crossed to the line of bottles on a glass shelf beside the sink.
The cologne held a hint of citrus with a tantalizing cover of musk. She smiled as she set the bottle back in place.
“You’re the last person I expected to see here.”
Malin jumped at the sound of Thom’s voice, the bottle clattering against the glass shelf. She spun around to find him watching her from the doorway of the bathroom. He leaned casually against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest.
Malin held her breath as he slowly crossed the room to stand beside her. He stared at her in the mirror. “Jason called you?”
She nodded. “You got him drunk?”
“He did that all on his own.” Thom paused. “Besides, he wasn’t cut out for the job. He’s too young, too impressionable.”
“You got him drunk to prove a point?”
“I just couldn’t live with the guy,” Thom admitted. “He’s like a big drooling puppy. I need someone a little more interesting. More mature. With less drool.”
“All right. We’ll find someone else. I can contact an agency and they’ll send over some candidates.”
“I can think of an excellent candidate,” he said. “Perfectly qualified. Interesting to talk to. Stubbornly disciplined. Beautiful to look at.”
“You
