Her Man Advantage. Joanne Rock

up close and personal? Would they be able to forgive what they considered the debt of letting him leave if they could see the evidence of his success from the comfort of their living rooms overseas? He didn’t want to push his luck.

      So he’d told the Murphys to be on their toes if anyone called looking for more information on him. The wealthy Murphy family had resources to increase security at their Cape Cod compound and he’d advised them to do so, claiming a rise in public interest could bring out the occasional nut job. Better to be safe.

      As Axel found his shooting rhythm on a tarp, he tried to ignore the hum of the Panasonic recording his every move and wondered if Jennifer had stood him up.

      With how gung ho she’d been to quiz him about the Phantoms the day before, he’d figured she would bombard him with questions the second he left the ice. But an hour and a half after practice, he still hadn’t seen a sign of her.

      Except, of course, in his mind’s eye. She’d set up residence there after yesterday’s close encounter, insinuating herself in his thoughts and making him edgy for more.

      “Have you seen Jennifer around?” Axel asked the young guy shouldering the video equipment, breaking protocol by addressing him directly.

      But hey, the less usable footage they had of him, the better.

      Shutting off the camera, the tall, skinny dude shifted it aside. “She might be in the parking lot, setting things up for one of the crew to ride with some fans to Montreal.”

      “Fans?” Surprised and encouraged that she would devote so much film to people who weren’t on the team, Axel decided he’d have to give her a rundown on everyone on the Phantoms support staff.

      That alone could occupy a camera for a couple of days.

      “Groupies, man.” The kid—twenty at the oldest—grinned. “Four girls that came to the morning skate. You’re living the dream.”

      Before he could reply, Jennifer strode into the practice room, her cheeks flushed and her hair windblown.

      “Yes, congratulations on that, Mr. Rankin.” She thumbed through a stack of notes on her clipboard, her hands a flurry of shuffling. “You’re a very fortunate man to be so widely admired.”

      He’d never been in it for the fame. If anything, that made his life more difficult given the enemies he’d made back home.

      “Actually, I think I’m fortunate because I get paid to do a job I love.” He handed his stick to an attendant, eager to shake off old ghosts and talk to Jennifer away from the whir of rolling film. “Are you ready to go?”

      “Very.” Pivoting on her heel, she walked out of the practice room.

      She wore a blue-and-white Phantoms T-shirt today, a thoughtful endorsement. A floor-length black skirt with big blue flowers billowed around her legs, a skinny silver chain belt dangling from her waist.

      She looked great. He liked her colorful, offbeat style. Her energetic walk and enthusiastic hands when she touched him. He liked everything about her a little too well. But sticking close to her throughout the filming might help him avoid being a central figure in any of the footage.

      As for the heat between them? He’d have to gamble they’d be able to handle it.

      He had to admit Jen seemed to be keeping a professional distance today.

      Hell, he wasn’t even keeping up with her, now that he thought about it. Was she pulling the same trick he had yesterday, trying to outpace him?

      “Where’s the fire?” he asked, lengthening his stride as she headed toward the administrative offices. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

      “Just trying to be considerate.” She shoved open a door to a small office that should have belonged to the staff travel secretary. Apparently the office had been lent to Jennifer while she was here since an assortment of camera bags crammed the floor and a board with a list of shot sequences had been hung behind the desk. “I know you have to travel tonight for tomorrow’s game.”

      He followed her inside, leaving the door open to ensure they wouldn’t have too much privacy. It was being alone with her yesterday that had driven him to touch her. Today would be all business.

      “Our flight doesn’t leave until seven and I’m already packed. I’ve got plenty of time.”

      “Well, I need to make a lot of arrangements before then.” She turned to face him, her shoulders tense. Still clutching the clipboard like a flotation device for a woman at sea.

      “Jen.” He stepped closer in spite of himself, sensing a vibe at work that he didn’t understand. “Is something wrong?”

      “Honestly?” She slammed the clipboard on the desk, sending a few loose papers flying. “I’m a little creeped out to think you have your own personal fan base following you around to all your hotels when you travel.”

      A strong reaction from a woman he’d only just met. She couldn’t be … jealous?

      “I think every big-league sports team develops that kind of following,” he said carefully.

      “Well, I don’t see how you can object to a romantic story line for yourself when you’ve got a groupie with your jersey number tattooed on her like a neon sign.”

      A prickle of unease started at the base of his neck. As amusing as it might be to think Jennifer would feel any sort of proprietary claim toward him, he couldn’t afford to indulge that kind of thought if it led to him having a feature role in her series.

      “The fan you’re thinking of happens to have all the players’ numbers tattooed on her.”

      “You’ve seen them?” Jaw dropping, she pitched her voice lower.

      “Hell no.” His response was automatic since she made it sound so sordid. “Well, some of them. You need to understand Chelsea and her friends. They hang out around the team a lot, but the guys don’t mind because that whole group has had a rough time of it. Chelsea especially.”

      Outside the office, a couple of the team higher-ups walked by and Axel gave them a wave. The documentary series had brought in all the big brass, who were excited at the idea of more ticket sales in their future.

      “What do you mean?” Jen frowned, and for the first time since he’d seen her today, she didn’t look quite so tense.

      “I mean she has a hell of a story, but it doesn’t have anything to do with me. I, on the other hand, don’t have a story. Something I’ve already made damn clear to you.”

      “Right.” She chewed on her lip, an auburn wave snaking forward to land against her cheek as she looked down. “The trouble is, I don’t have a romantic story line. I have a team full of hot athletes, and every one of you is either married, in a committed relationship or too married to the game to think about women.”

      Ha. Did she really believe that he wasn’t thinking about her right now? He’d be lucky to have his head in the game by tomorrow with memories of touching her playing over and over in his brain. Even now, he wanted to get closer to see if he could catch that scent of hers that drove him crazy.

      “So follow around one of the guys with a girlfriend. Done deal.” Why couldn’t she film Kyle and Marissa, the matchmaker his brother had fallen for who now occupied all his free time?

      “And do I chronicle a happy relationship with no conflict that will put viewers to sleep? Or a relationship on the rocks—and there’s no lack of those, according to preliminary research—and really piss off one of your teammates by showcasing his marital problems to the world?”

      “Point taken.” More than one guy was going through a messy divorce. Some guys’ marriages broke up because their wives messed around while the team was out of town.

      Then there were the guys who did the messing around themselves. Ax tried to stay out of stuff like that, but he’d