Wicked Games (Denver Rebels)

by Maureen Smith

  Without breaking a sweat, he sank one ball after another, running the table to take the win. As the others let out a collective groan of disgust, one of the groupies sashayed forward and boldly kissed Logan on the mouth. As a roar of approval erupted over the table, Logan grinned broadly and patted the beaming blonde on her ass.

  A waitress hurried over, bringing a shot of whiskey to the triumphant victor. Logan knocked back the shot in one gulp, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and thumped his broad chest to a round of cheers. The guy drank like a fish, but he was a beast on the ice with slick puck-handling skills and a cannonball slap shot.

  He looked across the crowded bar and pointed to Reid. “Get your ass over here, Holden!” he called out. “I need some real competition, and you owe me a rematch.”

  Reid grinned before calling back in a lazy drawl, “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  “What’s the matter?” Logan taunted. “Afraid you’ll lose?”

  “Nah, see, after I kicked your ass last time, you played like shit the next day. I just figured I’d spare you another beatdown for the sake of the team.”

  As a hearty rumble of laughter swept through the bar, Logan grinned and flipped Reid the bird before turning his attention to the simpering blonde at his side.

  Viggo grinned, shaking his head at Reid. “He’ll never learn.”

  Reid chuckled. “Nope.”

  From his stool at the bar, Hunter Duchene raised his beer in salute to Reid, his green eyes glinting with humor as he called out, “Well played.”

  Reid flashed a crooked grin and saluted the team captain.

  Just then his cell phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the screen. His agent, Kyle Dornan, had sent him a cryptic text: Got something brewing. Call me.

  “Everything okay?” Viggo asked.

  “Yeah. It’s Kyle. Be right back.” Reid rose from the table and threaded his way through the crowded bar. Several women gave him come-hither smiles as he walked past, but tonight, for the first time, he looked right through them.

  Striding out the door, he started down the narrow hallway leading to the restrooms. It was too noisy inside the bar, and he wanted to be able to hear what his agent had to say.

  Kyle’s young assistant answered the phone and greeted Reid with her usual enthusiasm. “Kyle had to take another call,” she explained, “but he really wants to speak to you. He promised he’d only be a minute. Can you hold?”

  “Sure.” Reid propped a shoulder against the wall next to a framed photograph of John Elway hoisting the Lombardi trophy after the Broncos won the Super Bowl in 1998.

  While he waited for his agent to come on the line, he mentally replayed the conversation they’d had three months ago.

  “Guess who just received a major endorsement offer from Gatorade?” Kyle crowed when Reid answered the phone. “You, that’s fucking who!”

  Reid grinned. “Seriously? That’s awesome.”

  “Damn right it is! They’re rebranding the original Gatorade Ice and turning it into a product line of extreme endurance drinks. They want you to be the face of the new brand. They’ve had their eye on you for a while now. After your performance this past season, they’re more excited than ever to sign you. Listen to this. Their marketing director described you as the quintessential tough guy, an ‘assassin on the ice with a take-no-prisoners attitude.’ They think you’d be the perfect spokesman for the Ice Series.”

  Reid had been thoroughly stoked. There wasn’t a pro athlete breathing who wouldn’t give his right nut for a major endorsement deal with Gatorade. It was a huge fucking coup. And since hockey wasn’t as popular in America as football, basketball and baseball, it was harder for NHL players to be seen as hot commodities. Lucrative endorsement contracts given to players such as Viggo and Sidney Crosby were the exception, not the norm.

  At that moment Kyle came on the line, breaking into Reid’s reverie. “Holden, my man, how the hell’s it going? You hyped about the upcoming season?”

  “Always,” Reid drawled.

  “Good, good. So, listen, I have some great news. I got a call from Nike, and they’re interested in signing you.”

  “For real? Nike?” Reid grinned. “Damn, Kyle, you’re on a roll, aren’t you?”

  Kyle laughed. “Gotta earn my keep, right?”

  “Never hurts.”

  As Kyle began explaining the terms of the potential deal, a leggy blonde wearing Reid’s jersey brushed past him, coyly trailing her fingers along his arm. When their eyes met, she licked her lips provocatively and crooked her finger for him to follow her. Before tonight he probably would have done just that. But now the idea of hooking up with some random hot chick held zero appeal.

  So he just chuckled and shook his head as the blonde sashayed off to the restroom.

  “…definitely love to have you on board,” Kyle was saying, pulling Reid’s attention back to the conversation. “They’re even thinking about featuring you in a crossover commercial with Mason Wolf from the Atlanta Falcons.”

  Reid grinned. “Hey, that’d be cool.”

  “It sure would. I know he’s a good friend of yours, and appearing in a commercial with one of the NFL’s top wide receivers would expose you to non-hockey fans and increase your visibility.” Kyle was always thinking strategically, which was what made him so good at his job. “Anyway, I just wanted to give you a heads-up about the Nike offer. I’m supposed to be meeting with them later this week to hammer out the details. So it’s not a done deal yet, but we’re close. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks, Kyle.” Reid hung up and tucked the phone back into his pocket, then headed back inside the bar. He had just rejoined Viggo at the table when their waitress appeared, depositing two fresh beers in front of them.

  “Surprise, surprise. Looks like you fellas have some secret admirers.”

  Reid and Viggo followed the waitress’s amused gaze to a group of women seated a few tables away. All three were dressed in sexy heels, short skirts and low-cut tops that showed off great racks. They were staring at Reid and Viggo with inviting smiles.

  A slow, delighted grin spread across Viggo’s face. “Well, well, well.”

  When he and Reid raised their glasses to the women, they giggled like sorority girls and waved flirtatiously.

  They were hot, no doubt. But as Reid looked at them, all he could see was Nadia Warner in her prim white blouse and pleated gray slacks. All he could think about was the way her breathing had hitched when he’d moved too close to her, the way she’d nervously licked those soft, plump lips. His dick surged in his pants at the thought of kissing her, sliding his tongue into her mouth and tasting her.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so affected by a woman.

  He had to see her again.

  The sooner, the better.

  4

  Nadia smiled brightly at the mother and daughter approaching her booth. It was Wednesday evening, and she was attending a college fair on the downtown campus of the University of Colorado.

  “Hi,” she greeted her visitors. “Thanks for stopping by. I’m Nadia. What’s your name?” she asked the short, freckled girl.

  “Madison,” came the shy response. “And this is my mom.”

  “Nice to meet you both,” Nadia said warmly, reaching across the table to shake their hands before handing them each a brochure. “I’d be happy to answer any questions you have about Mountain View Community College.”

  “Thanks.” The mother, a graying brunette with severe crow’s feet, glanced through the brochure. “We’re just exploring our options. Madison wants to attend a four-year university, but tuition is so expensive these days. It’s ridiculous.”

  “I know,” Nadia commiserated. “And the costs keep rising, unfortunately. But the good news is that Madison can save you thousands of dollars by enrolling in a community college for the first two years before transferring to a university. At Mountain View, we offer a broad range o
f associate degree—”

  “Do you have a veterinary science program?” the woman interrupted her spiel.

  Nadia grimaced. “We don’t. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. Thanks anyway.” Mother and daughter put down the brochures and walked away.

  Nadia stared after them, then heaved a resigned sigh.

  It had been a slow night for Mountain View. Nadia and her coworker Emily had only collected a small stack of information cards from interested students. Meanwhile, across the aisle, the recruiter from Metropolitan State University had so many cards, the pile was tipping over. Throughout the evening, he’d had a steady stream of students and parents coming to his booth to take brochures, ask questions and fill out information cards.

  As Nadia watched him speak to the crowd gathered around his table, she couldn’t help feeling envious. She loved her job, but some days it sucked to work at a small community college.

  “Okay, I’m back,” Emily announced, returning from the restroom. She stowed her leather purse under the table, then resumed her spot next to Nadia. “What’d I miss?”

  Nadia sighed. “Not much. Only one parent and student came by.”

  Emily gave her a knowing look. “What program did they ask about this time? Nursing? Culinary arts? Forensics?”

  “Veterinary science.”

  “Ah. That was my next guess.”

  Nadia and Emily traded wry grins.

  The two women had been colleagues for the past three years, so they’d attended more than their share of college fairs together. Emily, a curvy blonde with baby-blue eyes and long legs, had been known to use her looks and feminine wiles to lure male students—and their fathers—over to the college’s booth. Once she had them in her clutches, she’d launch into her sales pitch, rattling off the many benefits of attending a community college versus an expensive university. Even if the prospective students weren’t sold on enrolling at Mountain View, they rarely walked away without completing an information card—which recruiters needed to build their all-important mailing lists.

  Tonight, unfortunately, not even Emily had been able to lure more students over. Of course, she’d spent more time in the restroom than at their booth.

  “Are you okay?” Nadia asked. “I’m not complaining, but you’ve been taking a lot of bathroom breaks tonight.”

  “I know.” Emily pulled a face. “I think I have a UTI. Either that or I’m preggers.”

  Nadia gasped. “Seriously?”

  Emily laughed. “Relax. Just kidding. Shit, Karl knows better than to knock my ass up,” she asserted, referring to her boyfriend.

  Nadia’s mind flashed on an image of the pierced, tattooed and mohawked Karl. A college dropout, he bounced around jobs between making dubstep music in his mother’s garage. Nothing about him suggested he was mature or responsible enough to avoid getting his girlfriend pregnant. But Nadia kept the judgmental thought to herself.

  Emily sighed, twirling a strand of blond hair around her manicured finger. “You know, I was talking to Brendan earlier—”

  “Brendan?”

  “The recruiter from Mesa State.” Emily fluttered her fingers, waving to a lanky redhead three tables away. When he blushed and dropped a box of pens, she gave a throaty chuckle, reveling in her feminine power.

  Nadia just shook her head.

  “Anyway,” Emily went on, “Brendan was telling me that their recruiters make way more than we do. He’s only been there a few years, and he makes almost sixty Gs.”

  “Sixty thousand? No way. He was just trying to impress you.”

  “Maybe,” Emily conceded. “But I’m sure he’s earning a shitload more than we are. He told me they’re looking to hire another recruiter. Said he’d put in a good word for me if I’m interested.”

  Nadia raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

  “Well, duh.” Emily laughed. “Don’t get me wrong. Mountain View’s a cool place to work, but it’s hard to recruit students when the college is hampered by a tight budget and limited programs—”

  “We’re not that limited,” Nadia argued. “We offer a good variety of certificate and degree programs.”

  “Not enough to compete with other schools,” Emily countered. “I mean, look around, Nadia. We’re not only losing out to big universities; we’re also getting our asses kicked by other community colleges that have way more to offer.” She shook her head. “Sorry, chica, but I’m tired of being the unpopular kid on the playground. I wanna hang with the cool kids.”

  Nadia gave her a wry grin. “I doubt you’ve ever been unpopular a day in your life, Em.”

  “I haven’t,” she agreed without blinking. “That’s another reason I have to bail on this job. It’s totally hurting my rep.”

  Nadia laughed, then heaved a mournful sigh. “I hear what you’re saying. I love visiting high schools and meeting with students one-on-one, but coming to college fairs can be pretty depressing.”

  “Yup. And I—” Emily broke off suddenly, staring at something over Nadia’s shoulder. Her eyes widened. “Oh my God. Is that who I think it is?”

  Puzzled, Nadia turned her head, following the direction of Emily’s astonished gaze.

  She froze in shock at the sight of Reid Holden sauntering through the crowded exhibit hall.

  “It is him!” Emily whispered excitedly. “It’s Reid Holden! I know you don’t watch hockey, but he plays for the Rebels, and he’s totally amazing.” She practically dove under the table for her purse so she could check her lipstick.

  Nadia remained frozen in place. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Reid was headed straight for her table, and she had nowhere to hide.

  Peering into a compact mirror, Emily hurriedly reapplied a fresh coat of red lipstick. “I wonder what he’s doing here.”

  That’s a damn good question.

  Nadia watched as Reid made his way down the line of booths leading toward Mountain View’s. He looked fine as hell in a white pullover that hugged his muscular chest, low-slung jeans and tan Timbs. He walked with a casual, lazy confidence that was unbelievably hot and sexy. No wonder nearly every woman—young and old, mothers and daughters—stopped what they were doing to stare at him as he passed by.

  When his eyes suddenly locked onto Nadia’s, her heartbeat quickened and her mouth went dry. The noisy din in the exhibit hall seemed to fade away as they stared at each other.

  After a few moments, she forced her gaze away, busying herself with straightening brochures on the table. Emily finished primping and popped up from the floor just as Reid reached their booth.

  Before he could say a word to Nadia, Emily cooed flirtatiously, “Well, hello there. What can we do for…oh my God! Aren’t you Reid Holden?”

  His smile was lazy. “Guilty as charged.”

  Emily squealed. “My dad and brother are your biggest fans,” she gushed. “They’d kill me if I let you walk out of here without getting your autograph.” She grabbed a pen and a brochure, flipped to a blank page at the back and then thrust both items at Reid. “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all.” As he took the pen and brochure from Emily, his gaze drifted to Nadia. She shivered as he slowly looked her over. Her hair was pulled back into its usual ponytail, and she was wearing a plain navy shirtdress belted at the waist.

  “Hey,” he murmured.

  Just the sound of his voice made her nipples harden. “Hi,” she croaked, then inwardly cringed.

  Emily leaned across the table, batting her long eyelashes at Reid. “Can you address it to Steve? That’s my dad.”

  “Sure.”

  As Reid signed the brochure, Nadia couldn’t help staring at him. He was really tall, at least six foot four, without so much as an inch of fat on that hard body. He had one of those perfectly tapered torsos with broad shoulders that narrowed down to lean hips. He was even hotter than she remembered. Panty-dropping gorgeous.

  Emily was practically drooling as she handed him another brochure. “This one’s for my brother, Cor
ey.”

  Reid graciously signed the second brochure and gave it back to her with the pen.

  “Thank you so much,” she gushed in a breathy voice. “I can’t wait to give these to Dad and Corey. They’re not gonna believe I met you.”

  Reid smiled, but his gaze had already shifted to Nadia. “Hi again.”

  “Hello.” She congratulated herself on sounding halfway normal this time.

  “It’s good to see you.”

  Her stomach fluttered. “How did you know I was here?”

  “Your brother told me.”

  “My brother?”

  “Yeah. I called him and asked where you work. He told me where to find you.”

  “And you came,” she said stupidly.

  “Yeah.” Those blue eyes glinted. “I came.”

  Nadia swallowed hard and shot a glance at Emily. The blonde’s eyes had widened into saucers as she looked from Reid to Nadia. “You two know each other?”

  “Not exactly,” Nadia said quickly. “We met at practice yesterday.”

  “Really?” Emily frowned in confusion. “What were you doing at the Rebels’ practice?”

  Before she could answer, two high school boys walked over to the table. Both were staring up at Reid with awestruck expressions.

  “Excuse me,” the shorter one said. “Are you The Rocket?”

  Reid smiled. “You got me.”

  “Holy shit!” the boy exclaimed, breaking into a huge grin. “I can’t believe it’s you! You’re my favorite hockey player!”

  “Mine too,” the other one piped up, beaming at Reid. “Can we have your autograph?”

  “Sure,” Reid agreed.

  The excited friends tore off pages from the notepads they’d received from one of the other colleges. As they shoved the pieces of paper at Reid, Nadia handed him a pen.

  He winked at her. “Thanks.”

  She blushed like a schoolgirl. “You’re welcome.”

  It wasn’t long before several other teenagers and their parents wandered over to meet Reid and get his autograph. As news of his appearance buzzed through the hall, more hockey fans showed up at Mountain View’s booth. It was the biggest crowd they’d had all night. It gave Nadia a twinge of smug satisfaction to see other recruiters looking envious this time. For the moment, at least, she and Emily were the coolest kids on the playground.