Page 3

“Over my dead body."

“Lucy…”

“No!” she said louder. “Forget it, Leslie. I’m not going to babysit Dax Temple! That’s not in my job description.”

“Your job description covers everything that has to do with the team’s PR issues,” her boss reminded her matter-of-factly, tucking a strand of gray hair behind her ear. “Dax Temple is a PR issue.”

“No, Dax Temple is unbearable,” she protested, putting her hands on the table and standing. “Leslie, I’m begging you. You can’t waste my talent on snatching beer bottles out of Dax Temple’s hands and telling the press he’s a nice guy. Nobody will believe us!”

“It’s because of your talents that I’m putting you on this,” the marketing director insisted. “And I’m afraid your tasks will be a little more extensive than snatching beer from Dax.”

“What does that mean?” The unrest raging in her stomach turned to panic. “Oh, never mind. I don’t want to know because the answer is still no.”

It didn’t matter what the more extensive tasks would be. There was no way she could face this arrogant idiot every day for the next few weeks. That wouldn’t be good for her blood pressure at all, not to mention the punching bag she bought a month after starting, the day Dax asked her in front of the entire team if she was already with sex partner number twelve or still hanging out with number eleven. Her face had flared so incredibly red, fire engines all over the world had turned green with envy.

Lucy loved almost everything about her job. She loved writing press releases, being paid to watch hockey games, and being in the locker room explaining to the players which journalists’ questions they should avoid and how vague their answers should be. She loved traveling and the variety of her tasks. She even loved being awoken at night by one of the players so she could sort out a problem for him that he didn’t want to bother Leslie with because he was too afraid of her.

Yes, Lucy loved everything about the Hawks organization—except Dax Temple and his smug grin and his seeming inability to ever wear a shirt. Whenever she needed to talk to him, he was always half-naked, as if he was purposefully trying to disable her language skills. God, that guy drove her crazy !

“No,” she repeated. “No, no. Anything but that, Leslie.”

The stern-looking woman folded her hands on the table and raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid I haven’t made myself clear. It wasn’t a question, Lucy, it was an order. You have a special connection to Temple that no one else on our team has. You’re the only logical choice.”

“With respect, Leslie, are you serious? I have no special connection to him. I have a steak knife in my purse with his name on it.” She eyed her purse skeptically, which was so small it wouldn’t even hold a pocketknife. But it was the thought that counted!

Amused, Leslie smiled. “You know, it’s that enthusiasm that makes you so good at your job and that will stop Dax from further destroying his career.”

She snorted. She wished it were that simple. But no one had that much power.

“Lucy,” Leslie began again, this time in an unusually soft tone. “You haven’t even worked here a year yet. So, it’s way too early to give you a promotion. However, you work harder than anyone else and if you’re able to convert Temple…we’ll talk about it.”

Lucy bit the inside of her bottom lip. Oh, that wasn’t fair! Leslie knew she wanted a promotion more than calorie-free chocolate.

“Okay,” she said through her teeth. “Let’s say I take care of Dax. What exactly, if I may ask, does that entail?”

“Make sure he doesn’t date or sleep with anyone. No one. Women’s stories are the most harmful. Then, watch he doesn’t drink so much at parties, doesn’t cause a stir, and doesn’t allow himself to be photographed by the press. You’ll drag him to fundraisers, force him to visit a few children’s hospitals, and put on such a good show that even our Lord in heaven would be fooled into taking him in. Oh, and of course, you’ll make sure the press thinks he and Jack West are slowly but surely becoming best friends.”

Stunned, she stared at her direct superior. “Should I also cure cancer and go back in time to save the dinosaurs?”

“I don’t care what you do in your free time,” she replied without batting an eye.

Lucy laughed dryly. “That’s…a lot.”

“Naturally, we’ll pay you for overtime.”

“How long?” she asked woodenly. “How long do I have to…take care of him?”

“Let’s start with one month and then see where we are,” Leslie suggested diplomatically. “You start tomorrow. I want you to convince Dax to attend the press conference announcing that Jack West is joining the Hawks.”

She sighed heavily. “Okay. He certainly won’t object to that.”

“Well…” Leslie cleared her throat. “Jack West will be there too.”

Lucy’s shoulders slumped and she barely stifled a loud groan. Dax had made it clear to her more than once that he’d only encounter the Saint on the ice, nowhere else. “Great. Easy-peasy,” she whispered.

By the time Lucy left Leslie Forth’s office five minutes later, her feet felt like lead.

Four weeks of Dax Temple. Every day. Every evening.

The press was right. He was the devil, and he had just pulled her down into hell. She would never admit it, but no one on earth unsettled her more than this one L.A. Hawks winger. She had no control over her mouth when it came to him! In his presence, she said things, did things, thought things…none of which she enjoyed!

She was groaning so loudly she almost didn’t hear her cell phone. She sighed softly when she saw the name on the caller ID. She knew exactly what this phone call was going to be about, and she would have preferred to avoid any further discussion about it today. However, her sister couldn’t help that she was having a bad day, so she answered it.

“Hey, Maddie, what’s going on?” she asked as she walked down the white hallway lined with hockey photos and past the elevators, heading for the stairwell. Since she hated exercising, she at least tried to take the steps as often as possible. It didn’t help the rolls of fat on her hips, but at least it eased her conscience.

“It’s your turn,” her older sister said firmly.

Lucy sighed and took the first step down. “Not today.”

“Please! I was there yesterday and he’s a wreck. He was sitting in a sea of photo albums and tissues. I was hoping things would get better after he joined the bowling team, but…oh, there was some woman there who reminded him of Mom and…well. You can imagine. From there he went into his usual spiral, and he can’t pull himself back out again.”

Lucy’s heart sank and she slowed her pace. “Can’t Rachel take care of him for once? After all, she is the psychotherapist in the family. She might know what will help.”

“Rachel lives in Chicago, Lucy. She can’t just stop by.”

Yes, she knew that, but today she was so exhausted. Exhausted by her life, by the thought of Dax Temple…

“There is Skype. The telephone. A thousand possibilities.”

Her oldest sister ran a successful psychotherapy practice and was the smartest person she knew. If anyone could think of a way to help her father from two thousand miles away, it would be her.

Maddie sighed heavily. “You know he doesn’t like all that technical stuff. Besides, he forgot his phone PIN, entered the wrong one three times, and…Please, Lucy?”

Lucy stopped and rubbed her eyes with her thumb and middle finger. She loved her father, but she hated going to see him, hated having to comfort him, hated forcing him to eat, to go out, and to get on with his life. He kept reminding her, painfully, why she would never fully share her life with anyone.

“I know it’s tiring, Lucy,” Maddie continued quietly. “Believe me. In a few weeks, you'll be on the move again, chasing the Hawks, and then the biggest burden will be on my shoulders and…I need help until then. I can’t do it alone. I can’t run the agency while also making sure Dad isn’t drowning in his own filth every night.”

Lucy swallowed hard and nodded. Her sister was right. She handled most of the work concerning their father—and still managed to run an incredibly successful dating agency. All Lucy had to do was babysit a grown man and maybe get a promotion! “All right,” she murmured, “I’ll take care of him.”

Her sister breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. It’s okay if you can’t go until tomorrow, but I don’t think he’s drinking enough water. I had to force it down his throat. And leaving the house would do him some good. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time for a walk yesterday, so…”

“Don’t worry, Maddie. He’s my responsibility this week.”

“Oh man, thanks. I’m sorry to shove this onto you, you sound exhausted.”

She nodded and walked down the rest of the stairs. “I am exhausted and I’ve just been assigned the most degrading task of my entire career.”

“Uh-oh. What do you have to do?”

“Well, you have the incredible honor of speaking to the new personal assistant to the most insufferable man in the United States. Although personal assistant is merely a fancy term for personal detention officer or babysitter.”

For a few seconds, there was complete silence on the other end of the line. Then Maddie said matter-of-factly, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. I thought you were a PR consultant, not a personal assistant.”

“I thought the same thing! But Mr. Dax Temple can’t get it together—whoring around, drinking too much, and generally acting like an idiot. So, he now needs personal image maintenance. From me.”

Maddie laughed loudly. “Oh my God. This is about Dax Temple? Your hot nemesis?”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “He’s neither hot nor my nemesis.”

“Ah, I would watch what you say, Lucy. God sees our every little sin, and to describe Temple as anything but hotter than a pizza oven would be a mortal sin!”

“Fine, he may be hot, but he’s not my sworn enemy,” she capitulated, raising her hand. “He’s merely a man I don’t like. There are many of them.”

“No,” Maddie replied immediately, “he’s something special.”

“He’s not,” she growled. “He wishes he were.”

Maddie chuckled softly. “Oh, you should have just heard yourself. Like a dog with a bone. He’s special, Lucy. Whether you like it or not.”

“It’s nice that at least one of us can laugh about the fact that the next few weeks are going to be hell for me.”

Maddie’s laughter grew louder. “Sorry. Of course, I’m truly sorry about that. But, hey, think of it as a chance to finally…well, make peace with him. Or at least negotiate a ceasefire.”

Sullenly, Lucy pursed her lips. She crossed the foyer with long strides, smiling briefly at Jeff the security guard. “Yes, that would probably be the sensible and mature approach to the situation.”

“But you don’t feel sensible or mature around him?” Maddie concluded.

“Exactly.”

“Well then, I guess all I can do is wish you luck. But hey, if it gets too much for you, come down to Santa Monica. I’ll buy you a cocktail and you can dish all you want about your handsome hockey god. We just won’t invite Matt. He’d just ruin our mood by saying Dax is actually a good person and we just need to get to know him better.”

That was a wonderful idea. “Thanks, that actually helps.”

“Good. And bring along that Max you’re dating at the moment! Then I can get to know him.”

Lucy grimaced. She never introduced her sister to her guys, for good reason. The whole thing would be too…intimate. It would mean it was something serious. And Lucy wasn’t serious. “Yeah, maybe,” she said vaguely, knowing Maddie didn’t approve of her casual dating life. “I’ll let you know and get back to you if there’s anything new with Dad, okay?”

“Great. Cheer up, okay? You’re strong and independent and blah, blah, blah—all the rest!”

She grinned. “You should write a self-help book. No one expresses themselves as well as you do.”

“Thanks, I try,” Maddie replied modestly. “See you later.”

“Yup,” Lucy said and hung up.

Her sister was absolutely right. She was strong and independent and all the rest. She would explain to Dax what the next few weeks would be like. She would set boundaries and not let him get under her skin.

With renewed vigor, she pushed open the door to the parking lot…and stood rooted in place.

Less than 30 feet away, leaning against her car, was Dax.

His long legs, wrapped in jeans, were stretched before him, his arms were folded across his body, and the sleeves of his plaid shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his sinewy, tanned forearms.

He wasn’t on his skates or even standing at his full height, yet he still looked powerful.

The t-shirt under the open button-up clung to his chest and fell loosely over his stomach, leaving too much to the imagination—although she didn’t need any imagination at all because thanks to his exhibitionist tendencies, she knew exactly what was hiding underneath.

Her mouth went dry, and goosebumps scurried down her spine. All her nerve endings were electrified. Her tongue thickened and her fingers were clammy as her heart skipped a beat—in anticipation, in fear, maybe both.

Shit. He was special. She hated that fact.

Hated the effect he had on her, hated that her heart rate was climbing, that adrenaline and a strange mix of anticipation, fear, and tension were pumping through her veins.

Just like she hated that he glanced up at the exact moment she let the door fall closed behind her—as if he knew she’d been standing right there staring at him.