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Reforming The Playboy

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Год написания книги
2018
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She could hardly believe she was now part of the action instead of a mere spectator sitting in the stands with everyone else. It was a privilege to be on the ground floor of the establishment but she’d also worked damned hard to get here. There was no way she would let everything she’d achieved slip through her fingers for the sake of one man’s ego. Whatever, or whoever, had brought him back to town needed to take a back seat for the team’s sake.

She’d had to swallow her pride and come out to stand alongside Hunter in the tunnel because that’s where she needed to be—on site and focused on the players. It didn’t stop her unobtrusively watching him as the lights dimmed and the crowd was whipped into a frenzy with roving spotlights and blaring sirens hailing the arrival of the home team.

Each time the lights fell on his face for a split second she could see his eyes trained on the ice waiting, watching for that puck to drop. As intense as he’d always been.

A shiver danced its way along her spine as she recalled those past games when she’d found it difficult to watch anything other than him on the ice. It wouldn’t do to regress to that sort of infatuation again and for once she should follow his example and get her head in the game. Although he perhaps wasn’t as single-minded about tonight as he’d led her to believe. She’d caught sight of him waving to someone in the crowd. Someone who’d made him smile. Not that she was jealous. She pitied him really that he couldn’t be alone in his own company for five minutes without the need to hook up with a woman.

The single life suited her and she believed she was stronger without a partner to fret over. Between her and the apparently lovestruck Hunter she knew she’d be the one giving her all to the team without distractions. Not everyone would put the Demons first in their life the way she did, but it was concerning he had other priorities already. They didn’t need any more drama behind the scenes and if he really was serious about being part of the squad he ought to be focusing somewhere other than the contents of his trousers. It gave credence to the notion he was only back here for Hunter Torrance’s benefit, not the Demons’. She doubted he’d be willing to put in the overtime or go the extra mile the way she did if he had other pursuits outside working hours.

The first two periods of play were relatively uneventful, with both sides playing it safe and focusing on defence, so there were high hopes and expectations for the third period. Especially when the Demons had several near misses, with more attempts on goal than their opponents.

‘Come on, guys.’ Hunter’s booming voice and the thump of his hands clapping as he willed the Demons to score didn’t make it easy for Charlotte to concentrate on what was going on inside the rink instead of the decoration around it.

‘You must miss this.’ She hadn’t meant to say it aloud when they’d seen the rest of the game out in virtual silence but he was so involved, animated on behalf of the team, it occurred to her how hard it probably was to no longer be part of the action. He’d skated on this very ice, played for this very team, and seen out the last days of his career here. She’d only been a fan so her position was akin to a lottery win in some aspects while his could be seen as a demotion, standing on the sidelines now.

The roar of outrage from around the arena after a high stick incident against one of their players drowned out her observation.

‘What’s that?’ Hunter didn’t take his eyes off the play but leaned down so he could hear her better.

She swallowed. This wasn’t supposed to be a thing, it was simply her mouth opening before she’d realised. Now he was standing so close to her she could almost feel the rasp of his stubble against her cheek.

‘I...er...was just saying you must miss this.’ It sounded so feeble the second time around it really wasn’t worth repeating.

Of course he missed it. Hockey had been his career, his life at one time. It had been a stupid thing to say, right up there with the people who asked her if she missed her mother. Duh. Generally not unless someone brought her up and made Charlotte realise how incomplete her life was without her in it. Now she’d done the same thing to him.

‘Sorry. I should be following the game too, not chatting.’

For the first time since face-off he focused his full attention on her, his eyes bright and his smile wide. Enough to make her stop breathing.

‘I do miss it. However, as has been pointed out to me, I’m probably more of a hindrance than an asset to the team these days.’ His mischief-making brought the heat to her cheeks, and everywhere else.

To all intents and purposes he was the team’s new signing, doing his best to fit in, and she’d acted the superior know-it-all, making life difficult for him. She didn’t know this man yet she’d made preconceived judgements and behaved accordingly when he’d been nothing but friendly in the face of her childishness. For someone who was all about equal rights in the workplace she knew she wouldn’t have been so forgiving if a colleague had been so awful to her for no apparent reason. A little teasing in return wasn’t something she should complain about.

For a second she thought about apologising. The truth was, he was an asset. He’d treated all those on the injury list the way any experienced physiotherapist would have. She’d checked. It was her, letting her personal embarrassment over an old crush get in the way of a harmonious working relationship.

In the end she kept her mouth shut because she didn’t trust herself not to blab about her past devotion for him when she was looking into those eyes that had once stared at her from her bedroom wall. Worse, she might go the other way and insult him again so he didn’t realise she was having inappropriate thoughts about him.

She had to block him out of her sight and focus back on the game, something she’d never had any trouble doing before. Usually it was more a case of not losing herself in the match and making sure she was watching the players for signs of injury. Sometimes separating Dr Michaels from fan-girl Charlie took a great deal of effort.

The dizzying pace of the players covering the ice was as heart-pumping as it got for her. The hard-hitting alpha males and the danger of the sport had always been like catnip to a girl whose life had become so troubled and lonely. That was probably why she’d been instantly drawn to Hunter the first time she’d attended a game. Everything about him had said danger and excitement.

It still did.

The hairs prickled on the back of her neck and she knew Hunter was close again before he even spoke.

‘Is there something wrong with Anderson I should know about?’

The object of his concern was already on her radar, a bit more sluggish than usual, which was worrying when he was their star player.

‘He has missed a few training sessions lately, which would account for him being more breathless than usual. His fitness needs working on. I’ll put a word in with Gray, if he hasn’t already picked up on it himself.’ She doubted she’d have to point anything out. Anderson was popping up on everyone’s radar lately with his diva attitude. As top goal scorer they’d let his stroppy behaviour slide but now it was affecting his performance someone was going to have to take him to task.

‘Hmm. It looks more serious than that to me.’

Anderson had been making rookie mistakes all night, getting caught offside and hooking the opposition with his stick in full view of the ref.

‘I assure you he’ll get a full physical after the game and if I find any areas for referral I will let you know.’ This was her jurisdiction and it didn’t matter who the new physio was, she was still the medical lead.

They watched Anderson shoulder-charge everyone out of his path. With the giant chip perched there these days it wasn’t difficult to do.

‘And if the problem’s mental, not physical?’ Hunter crossed his arms, his shirt tightening and vacuum-packing his biceps in white cotton.

‘Well, it would also be down to me to make that judgement call.’

Not you. Back off.

He smirked and shook his head. Charlotte tried to ignore it but he was so far under her skin he’d burrowed right into her bones.

‘What?’ she finally snapped, the thought of her past infatuation sneering at her too much to take.

‘I get it. You’re the sheriff in this here town and I’m merely your deputy.’ He tipped his imaginary Stetson and she conceded a small smile. Well, it was better than swooning after that image and a Southern drawl double whammy.

‘And don’t you forget it.’

They locked eyes for a second too long, the laughter giving way to something more...serious. She looked away first and let the background game noise fill in the gaps in conversation. Just when it seemed as if they were starting to bond, stupid chemistry, or stupid rejuvenated teenage hormones, tried to turn it into something she didn’t want, or need, in her life.

Before she was tempted to take another peek at him, a face was mashed into the Perspex in front of her, the violent thud shaking the very ground beneath her feet. The distorted features of a Cobra player slid down the glass, making her wince. She was always conflicted when it came to such territorial displays of male aggression. As a fan, it was a barbaric form of entertainment, watching your team dominate the other. As a medical professional, she understood the physical ramifications of such an impact and as the on-site doctor she’d be called on to treat any injuries caused to the opposition too. That was why she was standing here with her first-aid bag by her feet, for those players who couldn’t shake it off and get back on their feet.

The shrill peep of the ref’s whistle pierced the air.

‘What was that for?’ Charlotte demanded to know, along with most of the crowd rising from their seats as Anderson was reprimanded.

Hunter flinched. ‘He checked him from behind. That’s gonna cost him time in the penalty box.’

‘Oh. I didn’t see that,’ she said, cowed by her own mistake. She knew it was an illegal move because it carried a risk of serious injury but she couldn’t tell him she’d missed it because she’d been busy gawping at him.

‘I’m guessing he hoped everyone else had missed it too. Now what’s he doing? He messed up. He should own it and do the time.’ Hunter threw his hands up in despair as Anderson remonstrated with virtually everyone in authority as he made his way to the penalty box.

His gestures imitated that of a clearly frustrated Gray too as he yelled at his star player from the bench. The coach was a disturbing shade of purple as he fought to control his temper and she made a mental note to check his blood pressure.

Anderson’s penalty left the Demons short-handed for the dying minutes of the game and Charlotte held her breath with every other fan desperate to keep the dream alive. There were so many bodies in the goal crease as they fought for a victory it was difficult to make out who had possession. Until the klaxon sounded and the red light behind the net flashed, signalling a goal.

The Demons had defied the odds and claimed a win, sending the crowd into a furore, but Anderson’s mood didn’t improve when the game was over and he left the ice. He stripped off his kit and threw it piece by piece down the tunnel in temper as he clunked past Hunter and Charlotte, unleashing a string of expletives directed at no one in particular.

Despite his public celebration with the team on the ice after their narrow win, Gray’s demeanour changed too when he approached them. ‘I don’t know what the hell is wrong with Anderson but he needs sorting out before the next game. You two are supposed to be the experts around here. Find out what’s eating him and fix it, or don’t expect to be signing new contracts any time soon.’

‘Gray—’ Hunter tried to put a hand on his shoulder in an apparent attempt to calm him down but he shrugged it off.

‘I pulled a lot of strings to get you here, Hunter, and I expect a lot in return. I don’t care if you talk to him as an ex-pro, sports physician or a fellow maniac, it’s your job to get him match fit and right now he’s following in your footsteps to career suicide.’
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