Page 13 of Reputation (Toronto Royals #1)

Chapter Eight

Eavie

Cinderella.

The deep, silky voice that only belonged to one man caused her stomach to clench. It washed over her, leaving goose bumps pebbling her skin. Thank god she was wearing a jacket. The last thing she needed was for him to know how his voice affected her.

The heat of him radiated at her back, and her traitorous body soaked it in like it was desperate for warmth in the middle of a cold Canadian winter.

A flush crept up her neck as her heartbeat thumped in her chest. Slowly, she turned around and looked up at that ridiculously handsome face, which was smiling down at her.

“Who would have known we would see a lot more of each other when we met last week?” he paused, his eyes flashing. “Or maybe you did.”

She swallowed down the accusation and plastered what she hoped was a pleasant smile on her face. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Morghan.” She hoped he couldn’t see the shiver of excitement that raced up her spine.

“Mr. Morghan,” he said with a hint of surprise. Raising an eyebrow, he chuckled down at her. “That seems a little formal, considering you were moaning into my mouth last week.”

“Shhh,” she rushed out, looking around them. When she was sure no one had heard, she stared daggers back at him. “Could you please keep your voice down?” The words came out tight through her clenched teeth. “No one can know about that.”

He smirked at her. “On that subject, why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

“I was just caught off guard,” Eavie stumbled lamely, trying to find a way to explain her vanishing act that would stamp out his curiosity. She could not admit how off-balance he had left her.

“Hmm,” he responded, the sound rumbling through his chest as he stepped closer.

Eavie sucked in an involuntary breath at his nearness, bringing the tang of his citrus scent with it.

“So it had nothing to do with the chemistry between us?” he asked, a cocky grin on his face that was at odds with the guy she’d met at the bar.

Damn him for seeing how she’d reacted. She shouldn’t be surprised, considering she had nearly slept with him. Rolling her shoulders back, she was determined not to give him the satisfaction of admitting it—even if it was true.

“That night was a mistake. It never should have happened.”

Fire flared in his eyes, making her pulse jump and she knew instantly he was not one bit happy with her words.

She watched him scan her face. She hoped he couldn’t see the flush she was desperately trying to stop from spreading across her skin like a rash.

His gaze flicked to her lips for a heartbeat, then returned to hers.

“Whatever you say, Cinderella,” he said with that infuriating smirk, humor and something else dancing in his eyes. “But I do believe you owe me tacos. How does this weekend sound?”

Shit, she’d known that impulsive comment was going to bite her in the ass.

It didn’t help that he possessed a smile that made her want to melt.

She could see why women were always pursuing him.

He was so handsome, with his strong features, eyes that transfixed her, and a mouth that made her knees weak.

He could probably sharpen his skates on that jaw.

The thought annoyed her far more than it should have. It was like the Gods created and dropped him on earth with us mere mortals for their sick pleasure of watching us melt at his feet. How was any woman expected to resist that? It was utterly unfair.

“That’s not going to happen,” she responded, smiling politely. “In case you forgot, the Royals have a policy against internal relationships.”

He shrugged as if that was a minor inconvenience. “We met before you started working here.”

“Somehow, I don’t think they will see it that way,” she deadpanned. “Regardless, I prefer to keep my professional and personal lives separate.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked. “Mixing business and pleasure has never been a bad idea in my books.”

Yeah , I bet it hasn’t .

“Perhaps that’s because you can’t mix pleasure into your business,” she retorted.

“Oh,” he said, taking another step closer.

He was mere inches away from her now, his addiction-inducing smell enveloping her, and the damn heat of his body soaked into her bones.

Much to her mounting annoyance, she found it difficult to breathe with him so close, and her mind clouded with a hazy need.

“I think you should let me show you just how wrong you are.”

His comment conjured images that caused her stomach to contract, liquid heat pooling in her core. Unfortunately, she found herself wishing he would do just that.

Swallowing, she took a hasty step back. Her mind cleared as if surfacing from being underwater as the distance between them grew. She gave herself a mental slap. What the hell was wrong with her? She did not get involved with players.

Rebuilding her icy exterior that had evaporated like steam at his presence, she clawed her professionalism back into place. “That won’t be necessary. Why don’t we agree to disagree,” she said.

“What if I promise to behave? Just co-workers having dinner.” His smile was anything but innocent, belaying the promise of his words. The fire in his eyes told her he knew exactly how her body reacted to him.

“No, thank you,” she replied firmly, putting a finality in her tone so he would know there was no room for argument.

It didn’t work, though, because his smile deepened as he said, “You should know, I’m used to getting what I want. It’s just a matter of time.”

Her head reared back in surprise at his ignorance of her wishes.

God, she hated men who were that cocky—bordering on arrogant.

He was coming on so strongly, too. The fact that he wasn’t taking no for an answer had her stepping back abruptly, this change in him feeling like a physical blow to her chest. This was a different person than the one she’d met at the bar.

Where had the sweet, awkwardly charming guy gone?

The one who’d stumbled over his words after admitting he’d been watching her.

That guy had been confident while also being considerate.

He’d ensured she felt comfortable in that hallway, telling her all she had to do was say stop, and he would.

It was ultimately what had led her to agree to leave with him.

That guy was nowhere to be seen. Instead of him, this egocentric, stereotypical hockey jock looked back at her through eyes that had belonged to someone else mere days ago.

It caught her off guard, this sharp change in personality. Who was the real Jax? The one from the bar or the asshole in front of her?

She narrowed her eyes at him, back straightening at the egotistical persona he radiated, as if he was entitled to whatever he wanted.

Of course, he was probably used to receiving very little resistance from most women.

Well, he was about to experience exactly what that was like.

She took a dark pleasure in the idea that she would be the one to enlighten him that he was not, in fact, God’s gift to women.

She stared into his eyes, defiance at his arrogance shining from hers like laser beams. “Clearly, you haven’t met the right opponent then,” she said fiercely, “because I can guarantee you’ve never met one like me.”

He laughed deeply, his eyes shining with a devilish light.

“I am well aware that you are not a…typical opponent,” he said quietly, taking another half-step forward.

Lowering his voice, he continued so only she could hear.

“Never have I been with anyone whose taste matched them so perfectly.” She sucked in a breath as he lowered his head toward her ear.

“Honey and ginger. Sweet and spicy.” His voice rumbled through her as shivers danced across her overheated cheeks.

He groaned low and quiet. “It’s a taste I want so much more of. ”

Her breath shuddered in her chest as she drew in air, but she refused to give into her body’s need to melt against him.

Slowly, she turned her head so her lips were close enough to brush his ear.

With a wicked smile, full of defiance and determination, she whispered to him, “If you’re after the taste of honey and ginger, I know of a great tea that can satisfy your craving.

Because I promise, you will not be getting any more from me. ”

He drew back, excitement, and something ignited from the obvious challenge—something that made her blood rush—lit his storming eyes like lightning.

He opened his mouth to counter, but at that moment, Sam exited the auditorium and headed straight for them.

She turned, taking a large step back, shifting her attention away and breaking the intense eye contact with Jax.

“Jax, I see you’ve met Eavie,” Sam said as he reached them.

Eavie could feel his gaze still focused on her when he replied, “I just had that pleasure.”

She could hear the amusement in his words, and it irritated her that he found the situation funny. To her, it was the farthest thing from a joke.

“Are you ready to head back upstairs?” Eavie asked Sam, glancing at her watch. “You have a call in ten minutes.”

“Yes,” he replied, turning back to Jax. “We’ll chat later.” With a quick clap on his back, he started toward the elevators.

Eavie turned back to Jax, nodding her head once. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Morghan.”

Turning on her heel, she started toward the elevators. Behind her, she heard him call, “I look forward to seeing you around,” followed by a deep chuckle that made her nervous. She didn’t need to turn around to know he was flashing a smug smile.