Game For Love_Delay of Game Page 4

  “I can’t. I have to get back to work.”

  Her smile was brief. “We’ll see. Go. I’ll call you.” She dropped her arm and spun Constantine to where Sergej stood, waiting, his eyes burning with the passion she’d only seen when he looked at her.

  She didn’t miss the look between the Raptors players, but Victor held his tongue. Sergej held out an arm, and she moved over to him, ignoring the thrum of pleasure she got just from his touch.

  Instead of keeping a hand on her back, he captured her fingers and laced theirs together. Smoothing his thumb along the back of her hand, he pulled her eyes to his.

  “Come on, beautiful.”

  She went with him, ignoring the little voice in the back of her head warning her this was only going to end in heartbreak.

  Chapter Four

  Icing—when a player shoots the puck across both the center red line and the opposing team’s goal line without the puck going into the net or being able to be touched by an opposing player in either than neutral or defensive zones.

  The ringing of his cellphone snapped him from sleep. Reaching around the woman who lay in his arms, Sergej grabbed it off the oak table and stared at the screen. Victor.

  Swiping his thumb on the screen, he put it to his ear. “You’d better have a damn good reason for calling me, Victor. It’s five in the morning.”

  “I want to talk to her.”

  “She’s asleep.”

  “So, wake her up.”

  “No. We’ve had a long night.”

  “I really don’t want to hear about you fucking my sister’s best friend.” Anger lined his words. “She’s not one of your whores.”

  “Do you need a fucking Jill?” he hissed. “Because you’re acting like it. She’s not a whore, I’ve never viewed her as such.”

  “Then what are you doing with her? She’s not remotely close to your type. And I don’t need nor do I use a Jill; I use a jock. which you know I fill out quite nicely.”

  He snorted. “Tell me, am I supposed to be with useless women my entire life, who can’t amount to a thing? You’ve slept with as many, if not more, women than I have.”

  “I’m not having this discussion with you. This isn’t about who has more puck bunny notches in their bed post. She’s like my little sister. And you’ve fucked her. Didn’t even ask permission.”

  “I don’t need your permission. She’s not a child.”

  “I swear if you hurt her, I will kill you. If Vale doesn’t do it first.”

  “She knows about us. Has.”

  Constantine stirred and rolled away from him, and he pulled her back flush to his chest.

  “We talked for a good portion of the night, Victor. I like her. She’s funny, smart, and sexy. Unlike anyone I have known.”

  “You don’t talk to women; you sleep with them.”

  “I talk to this one. She’s my good luck charm.”

  “Your good luck charm?” Warning creeped into the tone.

  “Yes. We lost. I met her, and we win.”

  “She’s not a charm.” The voice, flat and deadpan, filled his ear.

  “I know this. She’s mine.”

  “Constantine isn’t a lucky charm. She’s a woman who’s been through hell. There’s a reason she does the job she does. What she doesn’t need is some fast and loose hockey player mucking up her life.”

  “You have a low opinion of me.” Victor was beginning to piss him off. Not wanting to talk to him longer, he hung up and dropped the phone back to the wood.

  “So, that’s what this is about? I’m a good luck charm for you?” She rolled away from him and sat facing him.

  He sat against the headboard and crossed his arms. “Is that a bad thing?”

  She shook her head and climbed out of bed. He stared at her naked body, admiring the curves and strength. A perfect blend. Sergej frowned when she reached for her clothes, which had been strewn everywhere last night, and began dressing.

  “Tell me what is wrong with that?” he demanded, pushing from the comfortable mattress.

  “I don’t want to be part of your superstition. In fact, I won’t. I’ve already told you I can’t make the next game. And I like you, Sergej. Really like you. You’ve shown me a side of you I known instinctively you don’t share with other people. It will kill me when you look at me as the broken charm who no longer brings you luck. I won’t do it.” She tugged on her shirt then put her bra on under it, once she located it.

  He stared at her. She wore a red and black jersey shirt and a pair of flowered panties, which did things to him he never believed a pair of low cut bikinis could. Turn him on as if she wore nothing. “So, you’re leaving?”

  Her chuckle didn’t contain much humor in it. “You don’t want to hear me. You’re too damn used to getting your own way. Want a woman, get it. Done with a woman, dropped it. Want a fast car, buy it. New one? Sure thing, buy another.” She shimmied into her body-hugging jeans. “You think the world is yours for the taking. And it may be, for most. But you need to remember something. I’m not everyone else. I’m my own person.” She sat on the footstool and began tying on her boots. “Your status means bupkus to me. I was with you because you were hot and sexy. Not because of your position on the Raptors. I have a job and a life waiting for me elsewhere, and it’s time I get back to it.”

  Unease pooled in his gut. She stood and spun a tight circle before approaching him. One hand on his chest, she sighed.

  “When you first called me your lucky charm I was pissed. Then flattered. Now worried. You don’t need a lucky charm, Sergej. You have more talent than you know. Victor speaks very highly of your skill, and it’s obvious by your play, not to mention how the crowd cheers you on.”

  He gripped her wrist when she began to move away. “I want you there cheering for me.”

  She stroked his fingers as her expression fell. “I have to go. I’ll leave now, I’ve set it up with Vale to meet her before I get on the plane. If meeting me was your charm, then whether I’m there or not shouldn’t matter; you’ve already met me. That’s not going to change. And, now, you can get back to your routine of one or two women a night, ones that fit your style more. Flashy. Thin.”

  Christ, he felt worse than when they lost in the semi-finals. Why couldn’t she see he needed her more?

  “I want you there.”

  “You’ve already said that, yes. But my answer is still the same. I can’t go. I’m due back in the water in forty-eight hours.”

  He’d just been iced. Dropping her hand, Sergej whirled around, searching for his jeans. Once they were on, he stalked back to her where she stood by the hallway leading to the door. She didn’t appear to be in any sort of rush and had her ankles hooked while she watched him.

  The hunger in her eyes wasn’t banked or hidden. She didn’t disguise her emotions, and that was something he admired about her. Sure, they’d known each other for only a short time, but his mom had always told him that when you knew, you knew. That was all there was to it.

  “Can I pay you to stay?”

  The passion in her eyes dropped away like the ref dropping the puck, and anger took over. “You should have stopped while you were ahead. Don’t you dare stand there and insinuate I’m a bitch you can buy to be there.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said. Flustered by his feelings for her, his words weren’t coming right.

  “Really? Sounded straightforward to me. You want to pay me to go to your game and sit there so you can have your good luck charm. People offer that who feel they can buy the person in question, or they have no respect for them and their own life. Either way. No. In fact, hell, no.”

  In the next second, she was just gone. As if he’d blinked, and she’d vanished. Not even the door made any noise; she was just no longer in his room.

  “Fuck.” He ran to the desk and swiped his keycard then bolted from the room. Nothing. She wasn’t in sight nor did she stand before the elevators waiting. He went to the lobby and pulled up sh
ort when he saw reporters camped out. They headed toward him, asking questions, especially why he was there in nothing more than a pair of jeans.

  “Who were you with last night?”

  “Is there someone special in your life?”

  “Do you think you’ll take game one? What’s the strategy for the team?”

  The questions flew at him. He shook his head and stared at the door. He groaned when he watched Vale and Constantine walk out into the morning. To the left, he saw Victor and another teammate. “You should go talk to Victor and Steven about strategy. Excuse me, I have to get ready to head for the plane.” Whipping back, he sought the refuge of the elevators. As the doors slid closed behind him, he sighed.

  “Looks like they want something you have.” A sultry voice broke into his bubble of relief.

  He opened his eyes to find a stacked brunette wearing a teensy cocktail dress leaning against the wall. She licked her lips and dragged one finger down the deep v in the material that exposed more than it hid of her chest.

  “See anything I have you want?” She sashayed closer, her stilettoes emphasizing her long legs.

  He didn’t have the energy for this. And when she stumbled, he should have let her fall, but he wasn’t raised that way, and so, he caught her. Just then, the doors slipped back open because he’d not gotten around to pushing the floor he wanted to go to.

  “Is this who you were chasing?”

  Sergej snapped his head up to see a reporter there. The woman held tight to him, her full chest pushed to his, his hands were around her from grabbing her—he knew instantly how it looked to the casual observer. Beyond the reporter was Victor. And past him, Constantine. Her face an unreadable mask.

  αβ

  Constantine blinked and slowed her breathing. She’d been off her game ever since she’d seen Sergej with that woman in his arms. Seconds after she’d left him. Vale had forgotten her keys, so they’d turned around to go back for them. That’s when Constantine had seen him with that woman in his arms. Logically, she understood it had been a setup. Regardless of such knowledge, the pain of seeing another woman in his arms had nearly brought her to her knees.

  Unwilling to make a scene for a man who she’d not made any true claim to, she hadn’t done anything. Scenes weren’t her thing, especially when there was a group of reporters around.

  If that’s the case, why are you crying over him now? She ignored her self-imposed question and did her best to force Sergej from her thoughts so she could concentrate on the welding job at hand. She’d not become a specialist in this field to allow the thoughts of one man to derail her and cause her to make a mistake.

  Baring her teeth, she grunted and adjusted the hold she had on the stinger and flipped down the welding screen attached to the front of her mask for eye protection.

  “How you doing down there, Emperor?”

  “Fine, John,” she said to the leader of the team back on the boat. “Just about ready. How’s everything up there?”

  “Beautiful, we’re in the Gulf. I’m sure it’s a sight better than being underwater where you are.”

  She snorted. She loved her team, and once she began working, they left her alone unless trouble was inbound. “Doubt that, but sure, if you need to tell yourself that. Plus, you’re on the Gulf, I’m the one in it. You should get some sun; you’re pasty.”

  “I’m Irish; I’m supposed to be.”

  This time, she flat out laughed. “No, you’re not. You’re in the Gulf; it’s sunny up there. At least sit in the sun some of the time I’m down here. I mean, come on, you’re in shorts. I’m in a drysuit, over my swimsuit, then I have coveralls on top of that. Plus, there’s all the gloves.”

  “You complaining, Emperor?”

  She did one final inspection. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Make it hot.”

  And just like that, the teasing stopped as the power for the welding machine was turned on, set to the correct amperage. When she finished and had been drawn back up topside, she stood in the sun as another member assisted her off with the diving helmet and sliced through the rubber bands at her wrist section she’d put on to assist in keeping water out of the gloves.

  She stared at John, seated in a lawn chair with a beer in hand. “That the best you could do?”

  He grinned, his vibrant red hair glowing like fire in the rays. “I thought you’d appreciate the irony.”

  “What I want to know is are those my coveralls you’re in or did you scrounge up another pair somewhere?”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “That’s a secret.”

  “Note to self, buy more coveralls.” She took off the ones on her drysuit, then peeled that off. Soon, she sat in the sun in nothing more than a bikini and soaked up the heat.

  John sat beside her and offered her a bottle of water. “Are you done down there?”

  “Yes. It went surprisingly fast. That extra two days we gave just in case won’t be needed. I do want to check out the harness, though. I was doing way too much moving around down there. I think something may be off with the buoyancy. And let’s run another check on the SSA.”

  “Think something there is wrong?”

  They used Surface Supplied Air as opposed to SCUBA, self-contained underwater breathing apparatus. A lot more expensive but safer for her line of work. “Not necessarily wrong but slow. Like a blockage.” She shrugged. “Not entirely sure.”

  He scowled. “Why didn’t you say something? We could have brought you up.”

  “I didn’t think it was necessary. I still got what I needed, and it was only closer to the end when I wondered if the flow was enough. No point in panicking. I was on my way up. I still had my bailout.”

  “I’ll have Sue check the umbilical cord.”

  “Have Danny run diagnostics on the unit itself. See if anything pops.” She groaned and shifted on her chair. “I think I’ll stay out here for the ride in.”

  “You need to eat,” he said, patting her on the leg.

  Muttering, she got to her feet and trailed him into the galley. Food fixed, she returned outside to the sun and warm air. The rest of her team finished up their duties then joined her.

  All around, a good day. She walked into her hotel room and rubbed the back of her neck. Because the job had finished early, they had two days off. She knew her friends were going to be out partying, but she was on track for some sleep. Good, solid sleep.

  Her cell rang as she was untying her boots. Accepting the call without looking at the name, she said, “Hello?”

  “Hey, chica.”

  “Vale, what’s up?”

  “How are you? How’d the job go?”

  “Good, it went good, thanks. I’m okay. You? How did your game go against the Montana Moose?”

  “We annihilated those bitches.”

  “Good for you. What’s up?”

  “Has he called you?”

  “Has who called me?”

  “Sergej?”

  “No. Why would he?” Crap, even the mention of his name had her body reacting as if he touched her currently.

  “He asked for your number.”

  She frowned. “So, you gave it to him?”

  “Of course I did. You’re both miserable without the other, and since Victor punched him in the face, he looks even worse. The team isn’t doing so hot—”

  “Hell, no, don’t you dare put that on me. If they have issues, that’s the team’s problem, not mine. It’s not fair to lay that at my feet.” She stood and began pacing. “It’s not like we were committed to one another.”

  “That doesn’t matter, Con. You got to him, and he got to you, despite you both thinking it was just going to be sex. Tell me you weren’t thinking about him today when you were supposed to be welding.” She couldn’t deny it. “That’s what I thought. Just talk to the man. Hell, better yet, come to their game tonight.”

  She’d been keeping up with their progress in chasing Lord Stanley. Barely squeaking by the semifinals to get into the finals against th
e Rangers. Vale wasn’t lying. Constantine had seen a bit of one game, and Sergej was in the box it seemed more than he wasn’t. Game was off, and he was angry.

  “See, you didn’t even ask or act shocked that they made it into the finals. I know you’ve been watching him. Please come. The series is knotted up at three each. This is the fucking final of the finals. I have an extra seat by me you can have. Victor gave me two tickets, just in case you decided to come. For each game. He wants you there, as well.”

  “I’m in Texas, Vale.”

  “Luckily for you, New York is just a plane ride away. I’ll even spring for the ticket; all you have to do is get to the airport and climb on.”

  “Let me check with John and get back to you.”

  “No way; text him now. I’ll wait.”

  She did as commanded, and within seconds, his reply came. Hell, yes, it’s a playoff game. Go!

  “I have permission from the fearless leader.”

  “Great, I’ll have a ticket booked for you and a car there to pick you up to bring you directly to the game.”

  “Vale,” she began. “I just got in from diving. I’m tired. I’d at least like a few hours to rest.”

  “That’s what the plane ride is for. You’re not flapping your arms to keep it aloft. Get to the airport; your ticket will be waiting.” She was gone.

  “One day, one day, I’m going to have a life where I run myself.” She flopped back on the bed and lay there for about two minutes before her cell went off again. Vale’s ring.

  “What?”

  “Get to the airport. No lying around.”

  “Christ,” she muttered. “Are you watching me from somewhere? I just laid on the bed for a second.”

  “That’s all it takes for you to fall asleep. Up and to the airport. You’re flying Delta.”

  “So sure you can get me a flight?”

  “Yes. Get moving.” She hung up again.

  “Bitch,” Constantine complained without much heat. Once again in a sitting position, she retied the boots she’d just removed and made sure she had everything she needed. Waiting for a taxi, nerves erupted in her belly. Was she making a mistake? Was she going to watch him mess up? Or was Vale right and Constantine needed to be with him?