Misconduct (Hot Ice series Book 6) Read online

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah you do. One woman, a room full of men. You just played them all tonight, working your way around the room, flirting, smiling, drinking, looking good enough to eat.”

  Good enough to eat?

  “I was not flirting,” I said indignantly. “And besides, I wasn’t the only woman in there, but I was the only one working. Debriefing.”

  “That’s what you call it, eh?” He raised his eyebrows. “Vadmir would happily take you to his lair. I just watched him trying to get you drunk. Have you any idea what he’d do to a little girl like you? He’d have you for supper, chew you up and spit you out.”

  “Two shots does not make me drunk, and besides, I wouldn’t exactly be interested in Vadmir or in any chewing up and…and spitting out.”

  “Two shots and two glasses of wine.”

  “Oh, you were watching me, weren’t you?”

  “I don’t deny that. And why wouldn’t you be interested in Vadmir?”

  “He’s not my type.”

  His mouth twitched, as if he were holding in a smile. “What is your type?”

  I was beginning to wish I wasn’t having this conversation hemmed in by a man who was physically just my type. It was making thinking awkward and my brain had been a little fudged anyway from drink.

  “Not a hockey player,” I said. “I don’t want to be like those girls who throw themselves at you, leave lipstick on your cheek and wear hotpants that show the crease of their asses.”

  “Damn shame that. They’d suit you, those hotpants. Perhaps I’ll buy you a pair for when you give your next little pregame pep talk. That’d get pulses racing. Get the guys ready for action, you know what I mean?”

  Okay, now he’d gone too far. He was completely forgetting who he was talking to. I pushed at his chest and gave a good shove to get him out of my way.

  He didn’t budge.

  “Move,” I said.

  “No.”

  I glared up at him, pushed again but he didn’t shift. Damn, I wished he would, my body was starting to respond to his nearness. My breasts were aching, there was a definite hum between my legs—why the hell were my hormones being so traitorous?

  I shoved again with no luck.

  “I said no,” he repeated. “Not until you admit something.”

  I sighed and stilled. I couldn’t move someone as solid as a slab of concrete. “Admit what?”

  He lowered his head so that his mouth was by my ear and his chin touched my jawline when he spoke. “Admit that you want me…sweet cheeks.”

  I bunched his shirt in my hands. His breath had sent a wave of sensation down my neck and over my scalp.

  Want him. No.

  His body. Oh yes. I could have some fun with that.

  “Why the hell would you think I want you?” I whispered, studying the way his short hair was neatly clipped around his ear.

  “Maybe because right now you’re physically hanging on to me. Maybe because you didn’t go off with Vadmir or Mike tonight, you came to bed alone, hoping I would follow.”

  “No, I didn’t, that’s ridiculous, I…”

  “What?” He looked into my eyes, his nose just an inch from mine. “You what, Miss Gunner?”

  “I didn’t hope you’d follow. You annoy the hell out of me.” I frowned, but as I did so my lips puckered, and I moved my head a little nearer to his. The urge to feel his mouth on mine was becoming overwhelming.

  “And you annoy the fuck out of me,” he said, also drawing a fraction nearer. “Not least because you lost us the game tonight.”

  “I didn’t,” I whispered.

  He kind of growled and a tug in my belly told me that noise turned me the hell on, even though I knew it shouldn’t.

  “And,” he murmured, “you annoy me because you won’t admit you need me.”

  I was a little breathless. He was stealing my breath and my rational thoughts. His rich, low voice was almost hypnotic. “I don’t need you.”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  His mouth hit down on mine and he yanked me close. It was a kiss that was ravenous and furious and made my head spin. I was trapped in his arms, feeding him kiss for kiss. Our tongues at war and our teeth touching as he slanted his head to drive deeper.

  I wanted to climb up him, get in him, have him in me. Fuck, the guy could kiss as well as he could stop a puck. It was intoxicating and a sudden desperation to get naked stormed through me.

  “Dustin,” I managed against his mouth.

  He was panting, so was I.

  “What?”

  “We should—” I said, glancing at my room door.

  “No.” He released me as suddenly as he’d grabbed me and I faltered for a second to regain my balance. “No, we should do nothing.” He flicked his hand between us. The teasing humor had left his eyes, now they were cloudy, defensive. “Fucking nothing. Nothing at all.”

  Oh God, he regretted the hottest kiss I’d ever had.

  Well, that was okay, because I regretted it too. Even though I could taste him, feel him. Even though my blood was boiling for him. I regretted it.

  Didn’t I?

  He crowded me again, backing me into the wall. His lips were shiny and his chest was rising and falling rapidly.

  I didn’t speak, just stared up at his rugged, flushed face and wondered what the heck was going on.

  “One day soon,” he said, his mouth almost touching mine and his body pressing into my chest. “You willadmit that not only do you want me but also that you need me.”

  I parted my lips, wanting his tongue, needing his heat and taste. Oh God, my head was spinning with it all—lust, confusion, desire, hell to the consequences.

  “And I’m not talking about your bed,” he said gruffly, “I mean on the goddamn ice.”

  Suddenly he pushed away, turned and strode down the corridor.

  I watched him go with a sense of acute disappointment mixing with fury.

  How dare he? Just because I had a moment of madness thinking I might do dirty deeds with his athletically honed body, it didn’t mean I was prepared to sign on the dotted line for another multimillion-dollar contract.

  Manipulative bastard.

  Chapter Four

  The trip back to Orlando was uneventful. I sat as far from Dustin as physically possible on the plane and made a point of escaping the rush of the airport without saying goodbye to anyone. I wanted to be alone.

  Alone and in Dad’s air-conditioned, peaceful house away from the damn Vipers. Because, damn it, who would have thought one of the wily snakes could have almost charmed his way into my bed during my first few weeks in control.

  God knows what would have happened if I hadn’t stopped it. Or was it the other way ’round? Had he stopped it? My memory was a little fuddled. Shots didn’t suit me and neither did wine on an empty stomach. If I hadn’t been halfway to being drunk there was no way I would have kissed such a bad-mannered man. No, that was wrong, let him kiss me, because I really hadn’t had a choice, he’d backed me into a wall and devoured me. That’s what I remembered anyway.

  The trouble was whenever I thought about his lips on mine and his big body pressing into me, a quiver started in my belly. It traveled up to my chest, causing my nipples to tingle, and it also shot heat down to the juncture of my thighs, making me press my legs together and clench my internal muscles.

  It wasn’t that I liked him—Dustin—it was just that I liked the thought of what he could do to me. Jesus, if just the memory of a kiss had me buzzing, imagine if we were together for real, doing the deed, fucking. It would be off the scale.

  But that was never going to happen. So with a handle on what was going on with the team finances, I decided to head to the island and see my father. I’d nearly lost him a month ago, and that fear, that heart-twisting dread on the flight back from Paris thinking that I might be organizing his funeral was still weighing heavily on me. So if there was a chance to go and spend some time with
him, even if she was there, then that was what I should do. Plus it would give me the chance to catch up with him about some of the money-saving ideas I had for the Vipers.

  I organized for Clifford, Dad’s driver, to pick me up and take me to the small private airfield we used. It wasn’t far and I made a few phone calls on the way. Let Mike know I was out of town and also called my mother, checked in that she was recovering okay from her latest round of plastic surgery. It seemed being single again had sparked a need for a total body revamp. She’d been beautiful before but who was I to judge?

  I made it to the small, out-of-town airfield in good time, but unfortunately the plane was delayed and I ended up hanging around in the empty departure lounge sipping from a water bottle and reading my Kindle.

  My cell rang and I glanced at the screen, wondering who it could be. It flashed up Henri’s name and a picture of him standing on the wall around the glass pyramid at the Louvre.

  I smiled and hit answer. It had been weeks since I’d heard his sexy French accent.

  “Bonjour, Henri,” I said.

  “Ah, Gina, how are you? It has been so long. My ’eart is breaking.”

  I smiled and pictured his handsome, expressive face. “I’m sure your ’eart is just fine, Henri, but it is nice to know you care.”

  “I do care. I was calling to see how you are, and your poor papa, how is he?”

  “Doing well, home from hospital and taking it easy.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw a vehicle pull up in the adjacent private lot, a large black wagon. I turned from the brightness of the window and paced beside a row of plush red chairs. “It’s keeping me busy though, sorting out his business affairs.”

  “But you like to be busy, no?”

  “Yes, I guess. What about you?”

  “Ah, that is why I am calling, ma cherie. I have exciting news.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, and I wanted you to be the first to know.”

  “Wow, you got that job in Reims?”

  “No, no, I didn’t want it, they want me, I say no. I am a Paris boy, how could I leave?”

  I heard the automatic door whoosh behind me, glanced at the screen to my left and saw that my father’s plane was just landing. Good, I’d soon be on my way.

  “What is it, Henri? You have me all excited.”

  “You remember Marie, the girl from the café?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, we are to be married, next month.”

  “Married.” I felt as though I’d been gut-checked. Damn, Henri and I had only been messing about, but really, within weeks of me dashing back to the USA he was getting married, to Marie, the girl I’d told him on several occasions was always giving him the eye and following him around the room with her gaze. Seemed she’d been biding her time for me to get out of the picture and I had to give it to her, she’d nabbed her man with impressive speed and precision.

  “Gina, say something. You are not happy for me?” He sounded worried. “You will be okay, non?”

  “Yes, yes of course. Yes, I will.”

  “You don’t sound it.”

  “It’s just… It’s all so quick, you know, to meet, fall in love and then get married so soon. You and I, we…” My words trailed off. “But yes, that’s wonderful. I’m very happy. You will be a wonderful husband.”

  “Thank you. It is the way of the ’eart sometimes, but you know I will always love you, oui.”

  “Yes, I know you love me and I love you, very much.” Henri had always been free and easy with his declarations of love and devotion and I’d found myself slipping into the same habit of announcing my love for everyone when I was in Paris.

  A rattle behind me made me jump, someone clanking a can out of a vending machine.

  “Ah, you have a special place in my soul, Gina,” Henri said, “which is why I wanted to tell you and, of course, invite you to the wedding.”

  “Well, it’s a long way, Paris, but you know I love it there. I’ll need to make some arrangements though and speak to my father.”

  “Ah, that makes me sad that you can’t say just yes, yes, yes, but of course I understand. Your Papa must take priority and of course your big new job.”

  “Thanks, you know, for understanding.”

  “But we will stay in touch, oui?”

  “Oui.”

  “And I do love you, you lit up many dark nights for me, my beautiful American woman.”

  I sighed and pushed my hand through my hair. “They were very special nights, Henri, and I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

  I ended the call, my heart aching but also not. Henri had never really been mine, we’d been ships passing in the night. Fun party ships who’d supplied what the other had needed. I hadn’t yearned for him when we’d parted, or longed to hear his voice. Our kisses and our connection had been fun, passionate to an extent, but not wild, not soul-achingly raw like that kiss with Dustin. That had curled my toes, left me hollow and craving something no amount of masturbation had been able to satisfy.

  Reaching for my case, I turned. It was time to board the Gunner jet.

  My breath caught and for a moment I didn’t quite believe what I was seeing. Standing by the door, swigging from a can of Coke, was Dustin Reed.

  “What the—?” I gasped.

  He lowered his drink and narrowed his eyes at me.

  “What the fucking hell are you doing here?” I demanded, stalking up to him. Damn, why did all hockey players have to be so freakin’ tall?

  “I’m getting on a plane to go see the guy who pays my wages,” he said, looking down at me with a shrug. “I have some things to discuss with him.”

  “Like hell you do.” I shook my head and tried to stop a tremble of anger racing across my body. “And like hell you are. This is my plane, our plane. You can’t just catch a lift on it.”

  “I’ve been given permission.”

  “By who?”

  “Mr. Gunner.”

  “What?” Now I was so mad I could see little black dots swimming in front of me. “When did you speak to my father? He’s supposed to be taking it easy, not being hassled by annoying players.”

  “Didn’t hassle, my agent emailed him a few days ago after you brought up the subject of not renewing my contract. It was Mr. Gunner who proposed that the best way for us to iron out any miscommunications was for me to hop on his plane next time it was en route to the island and go talk it through face-to-face.”

  “What? That’s a pile of shit. My father would have told me. I only spoke to him a few hours ago.”

  Dustin dropped his shades over his eyes. “Well, I guess it slipped his mind, huh?”

  “No, it didn’t slip his mind. He didn’t know anything about it. You’re not coming. I want some time with my father, who, can I remind you, nearly died last month, and you being there, all…all…”

  “All what?” He tipped his head and seemed to enjoy the fact I was struggling to find the right words to describe him.

  “All cocky and…” I wanted to say gorgeous, but that wasn’t right. “Over-fucking-confident. It’s just not going to help.”

  “Take a chill pill, will you? I’m only going to be there for a few hours, and then I’ll head off and do a bit of sightseeing. Phoenix is always raving about the harbor restaurants. Seems he and Brooke had a great time when they visited the place.”

  “You can’t stay for a few days. You have practice.” I rammed my hands on my hips.

  He gnawed the inside of his cheek and tossed his empty can into a nearby bin. “Yeah, well, not much point practicing if I don’t have a team to play for. Kind of figured that contract renewal takes priority. Having a team next season is pretty vital in my world.”

  “Miss Gunner, the captain has given the go-ahead.” A smartly dressed woman walked up to us with a clipboard. “And I see the second passenger has arrived.” She looked up at Dustin and I swear she actually fluttered her eyelashes. “Mr. Gunner’s secretary rang ahead and told us to expect you,
Mr. Reed.”

  “Please,” said Dustin, “call me Dustin.”

  She giggled. “Okay, Dustin. I’m Angela. I’ll show you to the plane, it’s only a short walk.”

  Dustin nodded and wandered after her, his big strides casual and unhurried as she tottered along in black patent heels.

  Seriously. This couldn’t be happening. What the heck had I done to deserve the most irritating player on the planet accompanying me on a much-needed break?

  Drat and double drat.

  Within minutes I found myself sitting on a plane, for the second time in as many days trying to avoid being near Dustin. It was kinda hard on this one though, with only half a dozen seats and a small, narrow fuselage.

  I opted for my usual spot near the door and, much to my annoyance, Dustin sat next to me. On the other side of the aisle admittedly, but that was still too damn close.

  After fastening my seatbelt, I rested my head back and let the drone of the plane as it taxied onto the runway vibrate through me. I had to calm down and keep my cool. I was beginning to think Dustin enjoyed seeing me rattled. Hell, he’d provoked me enough times.

  But this. Really? This was private time between me and my father. I glanced at him and resisted a theatrical sigh even though it was how I felt.

  His bulk completely filled the seat and, despite the generous legroom, he still couldn’t stretch his legs straight. I stared at his big feet encased in black sneakers with a thin orange stripe above the sole. Goodness only knew what size they were. Like me he wore jeans, though mine were dark denim, brand new and skintight, his were worn and loose, faded on the thighs and around the groin area, they had a small rip on the right knee.

  “You want something, sweet cheeks?” he asked suddenly.

  I looked up at his face. His eyes were twinkling and one side of his mouth was curled up.

  Damn, he’d caught me looking at his… “No, just checking that your belt is done up.” I pointed at the sign above the pilot’s door. “When that goes on like that it means take off is soon.”

  “Ah, well, you don’t need to worry.” He plucked the thick black strap that sat over a wide denim crease in his groin. “I’m all safe and sound.”