Breakaway. Nancy Warren
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In Moscow at an international college championship she’d shot a puck that had been clocked at 80 mph. She said, “Let’s take it slow. I’ll try to keep up.”
Normally, she shot left, but she transferred her stick to the other hand, knowing that he was the one most likely to get hurt if she didn’t watch herself.
“Sure. What do you want to practice?”
“Let’s try some passing.”
“Okay.”
They started slowly with some soft passes, then they tried passing on the move and soon they were into hard passes, back passes, open-ice passes.
He wasn’t bad, she admitted to herself as she watched him move. He had the natural grace of a born athlete, was quick on his feet, with good skills and an easy way with the stick.
In spite of herself, she was impressed.
* * *
SHE WAS GOOD for a girl, Max thought, impressed in spite of himself. She skated smoothly, as though she’d been born on skates. Which, considering she’d grown up in Spruce Bay, was probably true. She was a little tentative shooting the puck and she sometimes stopped to scan the ice as though trying to figure out where he was and where the net was, but those were things that improved with practice.
And clearly, she liked to practice.
“What are you practicing for?” he asked, when they took a quick water break.
“I like the exercise,” she said as she skated by. “And for me shooting pucks is good stress relief. You?”
“I’m part of an emergency-services league team. I need to stay in shape. We want to win the championship game this year.”
“Since when is a pilot part of emergency services?”
“I’m also a reserve ambulance attendant. Two of my oldest friends play on the same league so they let me stay.”
“Sounds like fun.” She glanced at him. “So, you’ll need time off?”
“Yeah. But it’s months away. There’s lots of time.”
At the end of an hour they were both breathing heavily. She didn’t know when it had happened but slowly she’d let go of her control and he’d matched her. Now they were both putting a little effort into the practice and she was having fun.
When the clock showed it was eleven o’clock she realized the time had flown by. Usually by the end of practice she was fighting boredom.
Not tonight.
“That was fun,” she said.
“It was. And you are a hell of a lot better than ‘not bad.’ You could beat half the guys on my team.”
“Thanks.”
He skated up until he was standing in front of her, blocking her exit. “Want to go for a beer?”
“Is that what you do with your buddies after practice?” She removed her pink helmet, gave her head a shake so her ponytail settled down her back.
“Sometimes.”
She glared up at him. “I am not your buddy.”
Little puffs of white came out of her mouth as she said the words. She was still breathing fairly hard. This was the best workout she’d had in months.
“I know. But I can’t figure out what the hell you are. My coworker? My boss? My hockey practice partner?” He shook his head. “Not what I want you to be.” His eyes seemed to caress her face and she felt warmth all around her in spite of the cold rink.
Her heart jumped stupidly. “No?”
“No.”
There was a slight buzzing sound coming from the industrial lights above them, otherwise the world was cold and silent. She said, “What do you want me to be?”
He moved closer, so smooth on the ice she’d barely noticed. “I want to be your lover.”
Even as her heart skipped a beat, she said, “You’ve got a funny way of showing it. You act like the other night never happened.”
She felt his gaze increase in intensity. “Oh, it happened. And it’s going to happen again.”
He wrapped one arm around her, pulled her closer and kissed her.
His lips were cold and he tasted of sweat, but she didn’t care. In seconds they were warm and as seductive as she remembered. A tiny sound came out of her throat and she slid forward, so close their skates touched. It had been so long since she’d felt this potent rush of want, need and passion that wouldn’t be denied. Her last relationship, with the dentist, had ended six months ago when he’d got a better offer and relocated to Minneapolis. She had missed him a little. They’d managed a few weekends together and then he’d asked her to move to be with him, and she knew then that she didn’t care enough about him to give up her life here in Spruce Bay. Frankly, she doubted she’d ever love a man enough to leave her home, her job and her family. Which made Max a tantalizingly attractive prospect.
He worked in her business, lived right on the property. Her grandmother would be thrilled.
Which was exactly why she had to be so careful.
That’s what her rational mind was thinking.
Her body was reminding her that she was a young, healthy woman and she hadn’t had sex in almost six months.
She pulled away from the sexiest mouth she had ever kissed. “I have to shower,” she said, knowing it ought to be a cold one.
Max flashed his killer grin. “Me, too. But I don’t want to let you go.”
“I’m not going far.”
He tilted his head to the side, arms still loosely wrapped around her. “Come back to my place?”
She shook her head. “Everybody in town would know by breakfast time tomorrow.”
“Then take me back to your place.”
She bit her lip, wishing she could, knowing she shouldn’t. “I can’t. The crew will figure it out right away.”
“No, they won’t. They’ll come to work in the morning and I’ll already be hard at it. They’ll think I’m a keener, a brown-noser. Not that I spent the night with you.”
She’d wanted to know that he still thought about her, still found her attractive. But now that he was suggesting a night in her bed she felt suddenly unsure.
He gazed at her evenly. “I’m not that guy, you know. The one who boasts about his conquests.”
Instinctively,