Page 7 of He Has Charm (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Three
Harper
Ishould feel a tiny bit silly that we’re sitting in first class when I was trying to tell Maddox he’s being demoted to less than special status. But he doesn’t give me a hard time about it unless I count his borderline goofy grin. I feel a whole lot sillier about losing my heel and nearly tripping.Mypoor shoe.I shouldn’t mourn, but that was my Christian Louboutin Pigalle Follies patent red sole pump. And I loved it.It’s stupider than silly that I want to cry or spit or both that I broke my heel and it fell to its death on the tarmac below. Gone forever .
Then for my further humiliation, I had no choice but to dig through my bag for backups so I don’t have to schlep through Logan airport on one and a half shoes when we land in Boston. But all I have are my evening sandals.
My professional appearance will be nearly impossible to pull off with these sparkly spikes. Shit. The least I can do is behave professionally.
I grab my Kate Spade bag and slip out my tablet to check emails and act businesslike. But even with the larger first-class seats, Knight’s presence is overpowering, distracting me. I can smell him and it’s one of those crazy knockout combinations of soap, mint, and man.
Did I mention his special personal man-scent? Whatever it is, whatever’s in his sweat, I wish I could bottle it and sell it. Or better yet, keep it all to myself…
“Working?” he asks. I jerk my head up, hoping he can’t read my mind by seeing the flustered guilt on my face.
“Yes," I say quickly and launch into my most official and extended explanation in an effort to convince him I'm all business. "I’m reviewing some of the apartment and condo listings sent to me by our real estate agent.”
“The agency has a real estate agent?”
“Not exactly ours, but we do work with her frequently when—
“She?”
“Oh my god—can you just stop it already? Get your mind off women. No dating for you.”
“I wasn’t thinking of dating.” He’s serious. I squeeze my eyes shut. He adds, “And I’m pretty sure you can’t stop me if I wanted to.”
“You’re right. I can’t make you do anything.” He gives me a wary look, so maybe he’s not in complete denial of the seriousness of his situation. “But according to the agreement you signed with the Boston Brawlers today, the addendum, you need to confine yourself to monogamous relationships only, no tomcatting around.”
“Monogamous?" he says. "And does it really sayno tomcatting aroundin the contract?” His grin is barely suppressed and there's amusement in that damn twinkle in those killer blue eyes of his. But I keep on track.
“Not in so many words. Would you like to reread the agreement?”
“No. Bottom line is it’s all temporary. Just until the end of the season. I can stand anything for four months. I won’t break.”
I half laugh. “I’m not worried about you breaking. I’m worried about the contract getting broken. But no worries, I’m here to keep you on the straight and narrow.”
“Did you once work in a convent?” he deadpans.
Heat rushes to my cheeks and my muscles clench, my arm coming up instinctively to strike back as if he’s accused me of being a whore or called me an unmentionable four-letter word. He catches my hand in his before I can do any harm.
“Whoa there, sugar buns. Just joking.” He smiles. “Let’s face it. That would be some convent if they had women like you there.”
“What do you mean by that?” Stupid question. I pull my hand from his. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. Just… forget about women and concentrate on hockey for the duration. Do you think you can do that? Honestly?”
“Absolutely, except…” He stares at my eyes so hard I wonder if my mascara is smudged.
“Except what? No holding out, no secrets, Knight. Seriously. We both have a lot riding on this contract. It’s your only chance to finish the season and my chance to get a promotion.”
“A promotion? From handler to what?”
I sigh. “From junior agent to senior agent.”
“Big raise in it for you?” I nod. “All right then, St. John. Now that I know the stakes, we have a deal. No women.” He grips my hand in some guy’s secret hand-shake and I almost let myself smile because he is like an overgrown kid—if it weren’t for those killer hormones or whatever that irresistible aura of sex-inducing chemistry is that he has surrounding him. A girl could drown in it or get hopelessly lost—if it weren’t for the stakes. The stakes my boss made abundantly clear. I didn’t mention to Maddox the flip side of what might happen to my job if I fail, if he breaks his agreement.
“Except there is one problem,” he says, causing my heart to stutter.
“What the—what problem?” I say, sounding like I’m doing a Minnie Mouse impression.
