Page 355 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Rick

She raises her hand, and I sense she’s going to slap me, but I don’t stop her.

Instead, I welcome her palm connecting with my cheek.

I welcome the sting of pain that zips out from her touch and down my spine.

I welcome the throb in my balls, the twitch of my dick, which has only grown harder thanks to the contact of her skin with mine.

I welcome the flash of anger in her golden eyes, the red stain of her cheeks, the pulse that beats at the base of her throat.

When I don’t react, her gaze grows stricken, and she firms her lips.

"I don’t need your help," she hisses at me.

"What you need and what you need, are two very different things," I drawl.

Her gaze flicks to my cheek where her palm-print is, no doubt, in evidence. "I’m not sorry I slapped you," she huffs.

I angle my face. "I’m not sorry I caught you."

"Good."

"Good." I feel my lips twitch but manage to keep a straight face.

She tips up her chin, then turns to leave and promptly stumbles on the same crack in the wooden floor.

If I were a bastard, I’d let her fall. If I were the asshole she thinks I am, I’d allow her to hit the floor on her knees and hurt herself, but the thought does funny things to my guts, so I catch her around her waist—again—because that’s going to piss her off to no end.

I righten her. Before she can turn and tell me off again, I step back.

"Looks like you can’t do without me." I brush past her and snap my fingers at Tiny, who, having emptied the champagne bottle down his gullet—don’t ask— jumps to his feet, retrieves the bottle, and prances over to hand it to me.

I stare into the bottle—nope, not a drop left in it—then back at Tiny who pants up at me with a happy smile on his face.

The mutt has what must be the biggest and most satisfied smile in the doggy world on his face.

He belongs to my friend, Liam and his wife Isla who are currently on their island off Venice.

Isla is pregnant, and they’ve decided to stay there until she feels strong enough to travel.

They’d asked our mutual friend, Knight to dog sit when Knight was going through a rough patch.

A bit of an understatement, considering the man was an ex-Royal Marine who’d been held behind enemy lines for six months.

When he returned, he was a changed man. Someone who shunned his friends, until he met his future wife, Penny, who transformed him.

She and Tiny softened the man’s heart until he re-engaged with life.

To look at him now, you’d never guess how much he’s been through.

That’s what the love of a good woman does to you.

And the unquestioning devotion of a mutt.

"Can’t take you anywhere, eh?" I scratch behind Tiny’s ears.

In response, Tiny thumps his tail on the floor and the ground seems to shake a little. Or maybe, that’s from the gnashing of teeth that I hear coming from Giorgina’s direction.

I ignore Little Miss Spoiled Brat and walk toward Knight, who’s also my new boss.

Not only does he have Penny, but they’ve adopted his friend Adam’s little girl Bianca, since Adam was killed in action.

Now, Bianca jumps to her feet and races toward us.

"He’s sooo cute." She throws her arms about Tiny’s neck.

The Great Dane stays still and lets her fuss over him.

"He also polished off a $4000 bottle of champagne," I say in a low voice to her parents.

Knight chuckles. "Doesn’t seem to affect him at all. Besides, Cade, the bastard, can afford it."

As if hearing his name, Cade Kingston, captain of the English cricket team prowls over to us. "What are you ladies whispering about?" He smirks.

"Just that you’re going to have competition for rabid fans now that the London Ice Hawks have him as their captain." Knight nods in my direction.

Cade does a double take. "You’re accepting the offer?"

"I haven’t said yes… yet," I admit.

Knight’s wife Penny rises to her feet. "You going to make that a habit?" She jerks her chin toward the palm-print I wear on my cheek.

I shrug. "It was worth it."

I'm sure she suppresses a smile before scowling at me. "Gio has a good heart. I know she can come across as all up herself, but she’s a loyal friend."

"So am I."

"Go easy on her, okay?" She pats my shoulder.

"I don’t plan on having anything to do with her," I murmur.

"Hmm." She turns to Knight; a look passes between them, then she bends and kisses his cheek. "Time I get Bianca to say goodbye to everyone."

"I’ll be right behind you, baby." He wraps his hand about the nape of her neck, and pulls her back for a thorough kiss. By the time Penny straightens, she’s flushed, blushing, and her eyes are sparkling.

With a giggle, she bends and puts her arm about Bianca’s shoulder.

"Come along honey, let’s say our goodbyes to everyone. "

Baby? Honey? I throw up a little in my mouth.

Why is it that married couples think it’s their right to inflict their sickly-sweet PDAs on the rest of us?

If I ever reduce myself to mouthing off such gooey words, feel free to kick my legs out from under me.

I school my features into a mask of polite disinterest—something I’m good at.

Keeping my feelings to myself. That’s the first lesson I learned after being forced to leave the NHL for showing my emotions too freely on the ice.

"Do I also have to say goodbye to Tiny?" Knight and Penny’s little girl pouts.

"You’ll see him again soon," I point out.

"Promise?" She holds out her palm.

"Promise." I place my much larger palm over hers and squeeze gently. She seems satisfied. Enough to pull her hand from mine, and with a last hug for Tiny, she allows her ma to lead her toward the others.

Knight turns to me, and says, "Right, then. I do need to go, as well. But first, I need to point out that hockey is your first love. Not a day went by in the military when you didn’t follow news of the sport from around the world.

You’re the only man I know who tunes in regardless of who is playing. "

"So?" I raise a shoulder.

"So, I don’t know of anyone else who lives and breathes the game as much as you. You’re perfect to lead the team into the League."

The League is the European equivalent of the Cup in the U.S. Competition is fierce. The very fact that he thinks the man who hasn’t competed professionally in well over five years stands a chance of playing well, let alone leading the team to victory, shows how deluded the man is.

I open my mouth to tell him so, but he shakes his head. "You know that’s the only reason you were on the military’s ice hockey team."

"It was the best way of working out." I raise a shoulder.

"Bull-fucking-shit," both Knight and Cade say at the same time.

I chuckle. "Fine, so it’s because I love playing on the ice. That doesn’t mean I want to compete on a professional level."

Knight scans my features. "Think about it. Think about what you want, mofo. After all these years of doing what's expected of you, do the thing you want to do, in here—" He slaps his palm into the space over my heart, and I hesitate.

"Where is this coming from?" I crack my neck. "And how do you know I’m not doing exactly what I want right now?"

"You mean babysitting Hollywood stars—"

"It’s called being a bodyguard," I snap.

"And not that I don’t love our resident silver screen icons"—he nods to where my principals, aka Solene, the biggest pop star since Taylor Swift, and her fiancé Declan, the leading superstar of Hollywood, are currently sucking face in an armchair across the room—"but even you have to admit it doesn’t hold a candle to the feeling you get when you mow down the opposition and you swing the puck home. "

I'm bombarded by images of the last time I was on ice at the final of the Cup as the centerman of my team—controlling the pace of the game, impacting both the offensive and defensive positions, assisting the players on my team, winning face-offs, leading breakouts, throwing that final puck toward the goal… Then walking off the ice and never looking back. What happened that day is something I don’t like to revisit.

It’s the reason I’ve avoided playing professionally since.

Am I ready to go back and finally face the ghost of what happened that day? I’m not sure, to be honest.

I open my mouth, but Knight claps my shoulder. "Don’t answer yet. There’s one more thing you should know—" He breaks off to look over my shoulder. "Giorgina, you’re just in time."