Page 4

Chapter Four

Cam

Shit.

Shit .

I recognized that pale skin. The wild, red curls. The curves now clad in a pencil skirt that fell halfway down shapely calves. A bright blue sweater covered her perfect breasts. In heels, she didn't come up much past my chin.

Those same brilliant blue eyes, so warm and apologetic before I shot her down the other night, were now colder than the ice on the rink. Her tone was smoother than after the Zamboni did its magic.

Her plump lips set in a line upon seeing me. No chance she didn't remember me.

Zack Reed snorted loudly. “New owner's secretary? ”

I bristled at his derisive suggestion. He hadn't evolved far from Neanderthal in his thinking. The team worked on that with all of us. Some of us even pulled it off once in a while. Zack refused to try.

Andi turned that ice cold gaze on him, before smiling in a way that made me glad she wasn't looking at me. “The word you're looking for is personal assistant, and no, I assure you, I'm the team's owner, Mister—?” She cocked her head.

Zack grunted, irritation flashing across his face. He was used to people knowing exactly who he was.

Did Andi really not know, or was she trying to bring him down a peg or two? Had she recognised me at Shells? I assumed she had, and had walked into me on purpose. But now… I wasn't so sure.

She blinked at him a couple of times, her long lashes almost brushing her cheeks.

Zack stood straighter than the blue line. “Zack Reed. Winger.”

“Ah, I see.” She straightened her head and nodded, like she didn't have a clue about any of the five positions on the ice. The keen intelligence in her eyes said otherwise. She was humoring him, but making him look like an idiot at the same time.

Like he needed help with that .

Beside me, it was Flynn's turn to snort. He wasn't fooled either.

Zack shook his head as if he didn't know what was going on, but didn't like it. He shot her a dark look, then lounged back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze followed her every move as she spoke to the head coach.

“Brian Lampton.” He offered her a smile and his hand. He actually winced at her grip, but nodded his approval. “The team's been curious to meet you.” He raised an eyebrow, adding further meaning to otherwise benign words.

She reclaimed her hand. “I'm sure they have.”

I didn't imagine her gaze sliding in my direction, before flicking back to Coach. What did that mean? Did she think I knew who she was the other night? I frowned, trying to make some sense of it. I was missing something, that was obvious. Who was this woman?

I glanced at the guys. Blake and Nate shrugged. Flynn's expression gave away nothing.

Andi cleared her throat and addressed the room. She didn't raise her voice any louder than a normal, conversational level. She knew how to make herself heard without shouting.

That further added to the mystery of who she was. If she owned a hockey team, she must have money, maybe even influence.

Another good reason to stay away from her. Women like her didn't look twice at men like me. She probably ate caviar off gold plates, and had black silk sheets. I was not going to picture her eating caviar off a gold plate while lying naked on those silk sheets. My dick was certainly not going to twitch at the idea.

She was trouble with heated, silver toilet seats, or whatever people like her had.

Something about Andi Welling suggested she wasn't like that, but I'd been fooled before. I wasn't letting a pretty face fool me ever again.

My balls reminded me how it felt to be close to her, her lips inches from mine. I ignored them. Thinking with my balls never ended well.

They both stuck up their middle fingers at me. Figuratively.

“I don't intend to make any major changes,” Andi was saying. “Not right away. Except for the elevators. They seem a little janky.”

“They are janky,” Nate offered. “You need to hold down the button hard before they play nice.” His choice of words were deliberate. “If you like, I can show you around the arena.” He wore his best, smooth-as-fuck expression on his face.

For some reason, I wanted to wipe it right off there.

“That would be nice, thank you,” she said graciously. “Unless anyone has any questions for me?” Up until now, we'd kept the muttering between ourselves to a minimum, but the speculation was undeniable.

“How come you own a hockey team?” Blake asked, forward as ever.

She smiled at him, like she expected the question. “Why wouldn't I own one?”

“Okay, why this one?” Blake pressed. “I mean, we're awesome and all, but…"

“Does it bother you that a woman owns your team?” Her expression was bland, but her words laced with expectation. Of what, I wasn't sure. She seemed to want his honesty.

“Nah,” he replied easily. “Anyone who doesn't know Zack is all right in my books.”

“Fuck off,” Zack growled. “She doesn't know who you are either.” He glared at Blake, hands in fists at his sides.

Blake grinned back at him, undeterred. “I'm okay with that. She will soon. ”

“Blake Eastwood,” Andi said, her tone still bland, but something like mischief shining in her eyes. “Goalie.”

Blake grinned bigger, while Zack spluttered.

Nate and Flynn both choked back laughs, and even Coach Lampton was smiling.

Me? I wasn't sure what to think. Did she know who we were or didn't she?

“Lucky guess,” Zack muttered.

“Blake is one of the most recognized players in the NHL,” I stated, my gaze on hers, watching for her reaction.

“Point nine one zero save average,” Andi said, her chin raised.

“It could be better.” Blake rubbed a hand over the back of his head and tried not to crow at being singled out.

“So, you know who we are,” I stated.

“Some of you,” she admitted. “I did some research. Others, I might have met under other circumstances.” Her voice was sweet, but her gaze was dusted with venom.

“Yeah.” My gaze slid away from her.

In the corner of my eye, I caught Zack smirking, certain she'd called me out somehow. Equally certain I deserved it. Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't .

Just because she owned the team didn't mean she wasn't a puck bunny. People with too much money did all sorts of weird things, including buying a hockey team so they could screw around with the players. If that was her angle, I missed a major bullet by refusing her invitation the other night.

I reminded myself she'd only offered me a drink to apologize for colliding with me. That was where it started. And ended. It had to. Even if I was interested in seeing her lying naked on my bed, her legs apart so I could taste her pussy, she was my boss.

If my balls could laugh, they'd be doing that right now. Or maybe crying, because they were very interested in getting closer to her. My cock was taking sides as well. He agreed with my balls.

I'd have to be careful to think with my brain. No matter what the rest of me thought, I could never go there with her. Besides, it was clear she hated my guts. That would make staying away a lot easier.

“So, about that tour…" Nate said.

“I'll do the tour,” Coach said. “You guys should be down in the rink, training.”

Nate only looked slightly put out. He smiled at Andi and even gave her a wink. “I'm sure we'll catch up soon.”

“I'm sure we will,” she said, inclining her head towards him. She didn't seem interested, but she wasn't giving him the brush off either.

Why did I care? I didn't. Unless something happened between them which had a negative impact on the team. Yeah, that was it. It had nothing to do with my cock wanting to stand up like the needle on a compass, pointing due North, right at her.

It's just physical , I told myself. There was no denying she was cute, or that I wanted to touch her curves, or look up at her while she bounced on my cock, breasts bouncing with her…

If I continued this line of thought, I was going to leave this room with a boner.

My balls had been complaining about the lack of action for a while. That was the only reason they were causing me problems now. It had nothing to do with the way Andi's breasts were so close to my chest the other night. Or the smell of her, soft and feminine. Innocent but uncompromising. She didn't need me to save her from the world, or from my teammates.

Why did I still want to? There was nothing rational about it. What she did and who she did it with, were none of my business, but if any of them touched her, I'd rip their arms off.

“Let's go.” Flynn pushed himself up from his chair and nodded to Andi as he walked past. “Flynn Weston, it's nice to meet you. You might be just what the team needs. If any of the guys give you hell, let me know. I'm the team captain, and us redheads have to stick together.” He ran a hand back and forth over his bright red buzz cut and smiled.

“I'll keep that in mind.” Andi smiled back. “Thank you, Flynn.” She blew out the side of her mouth to push a few strands of unruly curls aside. They flopped back the moment she stopped.

Blake all but shoved Nate out the door in front of me, a goofy grin on his face as he walked past her. Nate kept glancing back, his gaze dropping to the region of her ass.

They left me to follow behind slowly. I should walk right past her and not give her another glance, but I couldn't seem to control my own feet. Great, first my balls and cock rebel, now my legs. At least my brain was still working. More or less.

My treacherous feet stopped beside her. I took a moment to inhale her scent again. A hint of lavender mixed in with shampoo and something else. Possibly roses. Whatever it was, it smelled incredible.

My voice pitched low, I said, “About the other night. ”

“Message received, loud and clear,” she said coolly. “Don't worry I won't offer you a…drink again.” She looked at me expectantly.

It took me at least half a minute to realize what she was waiting for. “Cam,” I said. “Cameron North. Left-winger. That's?—"

“I know what a winger is, Mr. North,” she said. “I suggest you focus on doing your job and leave me to do mine.” She looked weary, like the last thing she wanted to do was have an argument with me. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Was she up to this job? If she wasn't, no doubt she'd find someone to palm it off onto. Someone who cared less about the team than she did. I got the impression she was at least trying. That, somehow, this landed in her lap at the last moment.

I added that to the ever-growing list of things that were not my problem. I should start writing them down and burning them, like my sister would have suggested I do. Or flushing them down the toilet. I didn't think paper was good for the sewerage system, so maybe I'd tear the paper up and throw it in the trash instead.

Either way, I needed to stop taking other people's problems on board.

“Of course, Ms. Welling.” If she was going to play it that way, then I'd roll with it. “Welcome to the Sea Dragons.”

I gave her a curt nod before stepping past and out into the corridor. I'd like to put the other night firmly behind me, but I had a feeling it wasn't going to be forgotten so easily.

As long as she didn't let it get in the way of my career, then I'd shove it into the back of my mind and hope it stayed there.