Power Play

by Warren, Nancy

  “I admit, it’s a new one on me. It must have been kind of nice, though, to spend a whole night talking.”

  Kirsten gathered her things and they left the room together. “Some of it was.” She stopped stock-still in the middle of the corridor. “I didn’t even get a kiss.”

  “No!” Emily opened her mouth in profound shock. “That tease.”

  “Oh, yeah, it’s funny for you. I know you and Jonah weren’t talking all night long. You have no idea what sexual frustration feels like.”

  “Sure I do. Not this morning, but I’ve definitely experienced the phenomenon. You have to think he’s experiencing it, too.”

  Kirsten suddenly looked happier than she had since she first burst in on Emily. “You think?”

  “Sure. Look at it from his point of view. You’re sexy, gorgeous, were dressed like that, he spent all night with you and he didn’t even get a kiss.”

  An evil-sounding chuckle came from beside her.

  “See what I mean? He may have acted cool, but I bet he needed a long, cold shower this morning.”

  “Good.”

  “So, I’ll see you at the wedding rehearsal tonight?”

  “Um, maybe earlier.”

  Kirsten wasn’t a bridesmaid, so Emily didn’t imagine she’d be at the salon at noon. “Is there another prewedding event I’m not aware of?” The possibilities were terrifying. An expedition in the forest to pick fall foliage. A prenuptial demolition derby, perhaps.

  “No, but…” She let out an anguished breath. “I’m thinking of going to the rink to watch the Paters play. I wondered if you’d come with me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I figure you must go all the time and this way it wouldn’t seem so obvious if I showed up.”

  In fact Emily had never been to watch Jonah play hockey. But she kind of liked the idea. Except that this had the potential to be awkward.

  “What time are they playing today?”

  “Four.”

  “Right. I guess we could go for an hour or so on our way to the dinner.”

  “Awesome. Pick me up?”

  She shrugged. “Why not.” Then she turned her head. “What about Tyler? Isn’t he coming to the rehearsal dinner with you? Won’t it be kind of strange to go watch the guys play hockey and then have to ditch Sadhu?”

  “No. I don’t think Tyler’s coming to the dinner tonight.” She took a deep breath. Nodded. “In fact, I’m sure of it.”

  14

  THERE WAS A TEXT MESSAGE on Jonah’s cell phone when he came off the ice after practice.

  Call me. Emily.

  Not the sexiest message he’d ever been texted, but it still gave him a nice jolt to see her name there on his phone. He found a quiet spot and called her.

  “Hey, sexy,” he said when she answered.

  “Hi. Can you hang on a second? I’m going outside.”

  “Sure. Maybe we can talk dirty.”

  But he didn’t think she even heard him. There was some kind of din going on, a lot of high-pitched voices talking at once and machinery noise.

  “Okay. Sorry about that.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Hairdresser. And I do not want to hear one word from you about my hair when I see you. Okay?”

  “You have beautiful hair.”

  “Not today. Let’s just say my hair now matches that dress.”

  “Unless it’s a pumpkin stalk with a single green leaf, not possible.”

  She chuckled. “Okay, real reason I’m calling. Have you seen Sadhu?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “He’s really done a number on Kirsten. She wants to come watch your game.”

  “Look, Sadhu’s a good buddy of mine but he does a number on a lot of women. She seems like a nice girl, but I don’t think she should get her hopes up.”

  “He asked her to come watch the game.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah. Unusual behavior?”

  “Totally. Huh.” He realized that Sadhu had seemed more pleased with himself than usual today. Interesting. Even more interesting that Emily was playing chaperone. Was she checking out that he wanted her there? “So, you’re coming to support the team.”

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about. You’ll have to tell them that I’m pretending to be your girlfriend. I can’t have the truth getting out to my family.”

  He grinned, glad she couldn’t see him. “Emily, we are men. We do not gossip like women. If the guys see you here they’ll be cool.”

  He could hear street noises from her cell phone. Pictured her standing outside a salon somewhere, probably rolling her eyes. “They won’t know me. They’ll try and introduce themselves and we’ll be busted,” she explained slowly as though he might have taken a few too many pucks to the head. She had a point.

  “Okay. I’ll tell them you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and can’t shake hands. How’s that?”

  “Less than helpful.”

  “Come on, Em. I’ll figure something out.”

  “I probably shouldn’t come.”

  “You should definitely come. I’m all excited now at the thought of seeing you. You can’t let me down.” He sounded like he was joking, but mostly he wasn’t. He really did want to see her. It had been hours. He could still picture her as she’d been that morning, naked and rumpled, a satiated smile on her face and whisker burn on lots of rarely seen parts of her body.

  He shifted, knowing his uniform would no longer fit him if he didn’t redirect his thoughts. But it didn’t seem to matter. His thoughts were on a one-way street. “I hope you can eat dinner fast.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m planning to take you home early tonight.”

  She chuckled, low and earthy. “Didn’t you get your fill last night?”

  “Darlin’, I barely even got started. Last night was getting-to-know-you sex.”

  She snorted. “I think we know each other pretty well now.”

  “Exactly. So we can move on to the more advanced stage of our relationship.”

  “Already? After one night?” She sounded intrigued, also excited.

  “We’re both quick studies. Why not? There must be something you’ve always wanted to try out. Something racy that yours truly would be happy to provide.”

  “Well, I know you said you’d be willing to fulfill any fantasy.”

  He gulped. “Uh-huh. I remember.”

  “I do have this fantasy.”

  He damn near fell off his skates. He wobbled his way over to a bench and sat down heavily. He’d been toying with her. He could spend days in bed—and on any other surface he could think of—with this woman and not have to stretch for new ideas. But if she had a fantasy, he’d do his best to make it happen. “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

  “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

  “My favorite kind.”

  “Well, I’m in a hotel room. In bed.”

  “Good start. What are you wearing?”

  “A little black see-through number.” Her voice was low, teasing. He hadn’t realized how much he loved her voice; he’d been distracted by the rest of her, but now that all he had was her voice he definitely noticed. It was low-pitched, musical. A hint of devilry in her tone.

  “Are you still there?” she asked. And he realized he’d been so busy imagining her in that black see-through number that he’d forgotten to speak.

  “Black. Black is good.”

  “I’m ready for bed when there’s a knock on the door.”

  “No. Are you expecting anyone?”

  “That’s the strangest part. I’m not.” She sounded a little breathless now. And he recalled the way she’d sung, as though she’d done a lot of it in her time, and then Leanne telling him that she’d been in the musical theater program in high school. Obviously, she’d done some acting as well as singing.

  “Do you answer the door?”

  “Well, first I tiptoe to the door and peek out the peephole thing.” />
  “Good plan. Um, does your black nightie ride up when you do that?”

  “Oh, definitely.”

  “I’m getting a visual. Go on.”

  “Are you skating while we’re talking?”

  He couldn’t even have stood. “No.”

  “Oh, you sound out of breath. I thought maybe you were working out.”

  “Only my imagination. So, you’re looking out the peephole, your black see-through negligee riding up over your butt.”

  “Yes. And who do you think is there?”

  “A studly hockey player?”

  She made a sound like a quiet chuckle, then stifled it. “No. A room service waiter.”

  “Well, a guy can hope.”

  “He has one of those rolling carts that room service people use. I can see the stainless steel dome they use over the plates, and there’s a vase with a single red rose.”

  Did a woman ever have a fantasy that didn’t involve a single red rose? He wanted to mention it, but decided he might throw her off this very interesting track.

  “Do you open the door?”

  “Of course. I don’t want the food to get cold. So I let him in and tell him he must have the wrong room.”

  “And?”

  “And he looks at me for a long time. He’s very good-looking. When he stares at my chest, I realize I’ve forgotten to put on my robe.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you at all.”

  “Anyway, he says we’d better eat while it’s still hot. He takes the rose out of the water and runs the petals over my breasts. And then he takes the silver lid off the plate and—”

  She sucked in a breath and in an entirely different voice said, “Damn.” Then, he heard “Yes, I’m out here. Of course I don’t smoke. I needed to make a call.” The echo of a female voice followed. No doubt a lovely woman, but one he’d cheerfully strangle right now. Then Emily again. “Sorry. I’ve got to go.”

  “But what’s under the dome?”

  “I’ll see you at four.”

  It was several minutes before he was fit to move. As he took his place back on the ice, he couldn’t stop wondering what was under that silver dome.

  THE OVER-THIRTY MEN’S LEAGUE would never be confused with NHL Hockey, Emily realized when she and Kirsten entered the rink later that day. They were both dressed for the rehearsal dinner, and though she’d brushed out her hair, it still insisted on curling in ringlets.

  As they walked into the cavernous space she felt completely overdressed.

  There was nothing slick or commercial about this space; it was an old-time arena. The rink, hard wooden benches tiering up to the rafters. The air was chilly and smelled a little stale, as if too many skates had been aired out and too little fresh air let in.

  The fan base was also much smaller than she’d seen on the few occasions when she’d watched a professional hockey game. Clusters of people sat around the bleachers, wives and families she guessed, and some local hockey fans.

  “You made it.” They turned and Sadhu was striding toward them in his uniform, all but his skates and helmet, both of which he carried. His grin was wide and rakish. He looked at Kirsten and even though he said, “You made it,” somehow she felt as though he was saying, I want to see you naked.

  Kirsten obviously received the same message for she giggled and said, “We came to see what you’ve got.”

  “Cool.”

  Kirsten took a breath. She looked fresh and pretty, obviously she’d found time for a nap. “And, I wanted to ask you to be my date tonight for the wedding rehearsal dinner.”

  Sadhu looked up quickly. “What about Tyler?”

  “Tyler and I are history.”

  “Then I’d be delighted to be your date. What time shall I pick you up?”

  Jonah came up behind him. He didn’t say anything at first, but the way he was looking at Emily, she was getting a clear I want to see you naked signal from him, too. The cool air seemed to sizzle up around them.

  While Kirsten and Sadhu talked together in low voices, Jonah led her a few steps away and leaned in to whisper in her ear. She smelled the workout on his skin and in his hair. “What’s under the dome?”

  It took her a second to figure out what he was talking about and then remembered the fantasy she’d shared.

  She pulled back far enough to see the devil lights dancing in his eyes. “I really got you on that one, didn’t I?”

  “Are you kidding? I can’t even skate in a straight line.”

  “What’s under the dome changes with my mood. Use your imagination.”

  He groaned. “I can’t stop.”

  15

  “EVENING, JONAH,” THE HOTEL manager greeted him.

  “Hi.” He walked up close, checked the lobby of the Elk Crossing Lodge to make sure no one else could hear him and said, “Listen, I need a favor.”

  If the man was surprised, he’d been in the hospitality business long enough not to show it. “Of course. Anything in my power for one of our valued customers.”

  “I need to borrow one of your waiter’s uniforms.”

  “A waiter’s uniform. And this would be for a costume party?”

  “Yes. So glad you understood right away. Also, a tray and one of those silver dome things you put over the room service dishes.”

  “Well…”

  “You’d get it back. And I’ll have the uniform dry-cleaned before I return it.”

  The man scratched his balding head. “That’s not necessary, we have a laundry service here. But it’s a little unorthodox.” He glanced at Jonah as though figuring correctly that he wasn’t planning to moonlight as a waiter.

  “Look. I’m a cop. I promise you I won’t use it for anything you wouldn’t like.”

  A pair of shrewd eyes surveyed him. And then he nodded. Jonah was certain that the bedbug situation and how easygoing he’d been definitely played in his favor. “I’ll see what I can do. When do you need it for?”

  “Tonight.”

  “I see. Anything else?”

  “Well, since you ask. Is there an extra room still available?”

  “Yes. Of course, I’ll have it prepared immediately.”

  “Thanks. I only need it for tonight.”

  “It’s our pleasure to serve you. You’ve been so understanding about the little problem we had earlier in the week that I’m willing to bend the rules a little.”

  “Really appreciate it. I’ll be down later.”

  “Come directly to me. I’ll be here all evening.”

  Emily seemed a little worked up with all the wedding events, nerves and the usual snafus. From experience he knew well that the wedding day would be a busy and possibly stressful one for the bridesmaid. What she needed was a good dose of relaxation tonight. And she’d given him exactly the way to relax her.

  EMILY WAS GLAD JONAH HAD forgotten his jacket at the restaurant. He’d gone back for it, which should give her a good twenty minutes to herself. And she knew exactly what she’d do.

  Stripping and stepping into a terry robe, she wrapped her hair in a towel turban, warmed the clay mask she’d brought with her under a hot tap, then squeezed the thick, greeny-gray contents onto her fingers and spread the luscious mud onto her face.

  Bringing the rest of the things over to the bed, she squeezed the special cream mask for hands and feet onto her feet first, then slipped them into cotton socks and then the plastic bags provided in the kit. She then rubbed the sticky mess into her hands, sliding them into cotton gloves and more plastic. With a sigh, she lay back on the pillow and drifted. Fifteen minutes and she’d be done. With luck she’d be unmasked and dried off before Jonah returned.

  Maybe she was being forced to wear the ugliest bridesmaid dress ever, with bad hair, but at least her skin would be radiant.

  It had been a good evening, she thought. Buddy had settled himself as far from Jonah as he could get, which was excellent. Her parents and family had liked Jonah, she could tell, and he’d fit in with her friends. But
the most fun of the evening had been watching Kirsten and Sadhu. It was as though they were both trying out a relationship from the opposite of the way they usually did it. And this made them a little awkward around each other.

  She found them sweet. Where last night she’d been so sure they’d be in bed together within hours of meeting—which hadn’t happened—tonight she wasn’t sure.

  Jonah and her she was sure of, though. The way he’d been sending her steamy glances over the all-you-can-eat Italian buffet, the entire evening had been foreplay.

  She was in that twilight zone between waking and sleep when someone knocked on the door. She ignored it. Jonah had a key and everyone else needed to learn to call first.

  The knock was repeated. Louder this time and more insistent. Irked, she opened her eyes.

  “Who is it?” she called out.

  “Room service,” a gruff voice yelled through the door.

  “Wrong room.”

  A pause.

  “This is room 318.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t order room service.” She was getting irritated from all the yelling. “Go back to the kitchen and check.”

  There was a pause.

  “Lady, would you open the damn door?”

  Her eyes flew open once more and she turned her head, feeling the drying mud start to crack. Not only had that last comment been very unprofessional, but the voice had sounded awfully familiar. “Jonah?”

  “Use the peephole.” He sounded absolutely peeved and in that second she remembered the silly fantasy she’d woven for him.

  She struggled off the bed and squished her way to the door.

  She looked through the peephole and there was Jonah, looking big, embarrassed and adorable in a waiter’s uniform. He’d even found some white cotton gloves from somewhere. In his hands was a tray containing a bud vase with a single red rose, a plate covered with a silver dome, a silver bucket containing a bottle of champagne, and two glasses.

  “Oh, Jonah,” she said softly.

  “Can I come in?”

  “I just need a minute.”

  “But everything will get cold,” he said, sounding exasperated.