Face-Off. Nancy Warren

I’m laughing because I was so demoralized when I found out who you were that I would have canceled our date if I’d had your number.”

      “You’re kidding, right?”

      She shook her head. “No.”

      He rolled over, pinned her. “I am so glad you didn’t have my phone number. Look what I would have missed.”

      She didn’t even want to think about what she’d have missed.

      “It’s just that, you’re, like, some celebrity that I’d see on TV and think, ‘Wow, he’s cute,’ but not someone I’d ever meet in real life. I want to know what the real man is like.”

      “Okay. Ask me anything.”

      “Anything?”

      “Yep.”

      “Promise to answer honestly?”

      He narrowed his eyes at her. “If you promise not to share anything I might tell you with anyone else. Especially anyone who might, say, carry a camera and a notebook and snoop on people for a living.”

      “Promise.”

      Now that she had his word he’d tell her anything, she had no idea what she wanted to ask him. She gazed up into those gorgeous green eyes and wondered if anything ever dented his armor. And there it was. Her question.

      “When’s the last time you cried?”

      He sucked in a breath. “You don’t want to start with an easy one? Like my astrology sign?”

      “Nope.”

      Besides, all the easy stuff was on the internet. He was a Taurus, she already knew that. His sign was the bull, which seemed perfect.

      He flopped on his back and stared at the ceiling, but kept a hand resting on her thigh so she still felt connected to him, warmed by his touch.

      “When my father died,” he finally said.

      Her sympathy was immediately aroused. “I’m so sorry.”

      “It was so sudden. He was alive and joking last time I saw him, and then boom. He had a massive heart attack and he was gone.” His voice thickened. “I never got to say goodbye. Never got to thank him for teaching me to skate.”

      A tear rolled down the side of his face and she felt her own eyes fill.

      “Never got to tell him I loved him.”

      She kissed him. “He knew,” she said softly. “He knew.”

      For a moment they lay there, her head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her. And for her, he wasn’t a shaving-cream-commercial celebrity or a former NHL heavyweight, he was a man who missed his father. And who could open his heart to a woman.

      “So,” he said after a while. “Are we going to lie around blubbering or are we going for round two? “

      Her body sparked immediately in response. “I pick round two.”

      “That’s my girl.” And he rolled over and kissed her. And let his hands roam all over her as though he couldn’t ever get enough.

      “Is there anything in particular I can do for you?” he asked in a low, sexy voice.

      “Yes.”

      “What’s that?”

      She smiled the smile of a woman who is with a great lover.

      “Everything.”

      6

      SIERRA WOKE UP WITH A START, barely aware of what had woken her until she felt the unmistakable sensation of a man’s lips on the back of her neck. She smiled, half in and half out of sleep, feeling the delicious sense of a body well-loved.

      When his hands reached around to play with her breasts she realized she was naked. And that she’d fallen asleep.

      “I fell asleep,” she said, turning to face him. “I didn’t mean to. I should probably get going.”

      His eyes were slumberous and sexy. “You should stay for breakfast,” he mumbled. Now that the back of her neck was unavailable, he kissed his way across her shoulder, heading for her breast.

      “Breakfast? I can’t stay the whole night.”

      He stopped in his tracks and glanced up at her. “Darling, you already did.”

      Only now did she realize that it was light outside. She squinted at the fancy clock on the bedside. It was eight in the morning.

      A strangled sound came out of her mouth. “I can’t stay the night.”

      Amusement faded from his eyes and for a second she got a glimpse of the tough player who’d once terrorized opposing teams. “Why not? Somebody waiting for you at home? “

      “What?” She rubbed her eyes, and, as his meaning sank in, she snapped, “No, of course not.”

      “Then what’s the problem?”

      “I don’t—” She stopped, not sure how to explain her confused feelings, threw her hands up. “I just don’t. Not any of it.”

      He still regarded her somewhat warily, but the sharp suspicion had faded. “Well, you sure did last night.”

      “It was different last night. It was dark and I thought it would be simple to slip into bed with a stranger and then slip out again and go home.”

      He stroked the side of her face with his finger, this tough guy with his delicate caresses. “But you’re not built that way. I could have told you that.”

      “How could you know?”

      He shrugged. “Gut instinct. A lot of women are interested in guys who play hockey. You get a sense of who wants bragging rights and who wants something real.” A sudden frown darkened his eyes. “At least, most of the time you do. Sometimes we all get fooled.”

      She suspected he was thinking of the ex Mrs. Jarrad McBride and she really didn’t want the shadow of a swimsuit model darkening this bed, especially not while she happened to be in it. Naked.

      “I didn’t even know who you were until I saw that commercial. Then I had to look you up on Google.”

      “I know.” He stroked the side of her waist where it curved, traced it to her hip and let his hand settle there, warm and comforting.

      “You must have thought I was stupid.”

      “Nope. I thought how nice it was to have a conversation with someone where I was just a guy she was getting to know.”

      “I can’t believe how well I got to know you.” She shook her head. “This time yesterday, I didn’t even know you existed.”

      “Now you do.”

      She rolled over to face him. “I guess you’re right,” she agreed. “I’m not really the casual-sex type.”

      He kissed her nose. “Believe it or not, neither am I. I tell you what. Since I accidentally made you stay all night, how about I take you for breakfast?”

      “How does that make me staying over here any better? If we go for breakfast?”

      “Doesn’t. But I’m hungry. I can’t think when I’m hungry.”

      “Well …” But it wasn’t like she had anything pressing to do at home. Laundry that could wait. And besides, after all their night-time activity, she was hungry too.

      “Okay. But I need to shower first.”

      “Mind if I join you?”

      “Jarrad.”

      “What?” He threw up his hands all Mr. Innocent. “It’s a great way to save water.