Hot on Ice: A Hockey Romance Anthology

by Avery Flynn

His cousin didn’t say anything for a long moment, just sipped his coffee and nodded his head. “All right, then, what can we do?”

  A profound relief flooded him. “Seriously?”

  “Look, I’ve had my share of issues, and so have you, where Armand is concerned. But he isn’t a complete bastard. If we can do something, you know he will, or he’ll at least try. So, what can we do?”

  What could they do? “Is he still good friends with the lawyer?”

  “Richard?”

  He had an idea. The best defense was a good offense, and Archer knew how to be incredibly offensive. He was a damn good player. “Yeah, Richard. You think he’d be willing to take on her brother’s case, or at least look at it?”

  “I don’t know if he can practice law in Pennsylvania.”

  Archer nodded. “Even if he can give advice to whomever they’ve got as an attorney, we have got to get this out of the news. Their roasting her every day with the story. Guilty or innocent, she doesn’t deserve to pay for whatever sin her brother’s committed.”

  No one deserved to pay for their family sins. He was pretty sure George understood that. Archer certainly did.

  “Can’t hurt to ask,” George said finally. “But, you do know the best policy is to get out of sight for a while, right? Stop letting her feed the beast. If they can’t find her to harangue her, they’ll move on to the next story.”

  Except Hoshi had a lot of appearances planned and rehearsals for the upcoming special.

  “How far are you willing to go on this?”

  There really was no distance or limitation he was willing to place on his assistance at the moment. “As far as it takes. I like her, and I want to see where this goes. Even if it ends up going nowhere, she’s a good kid.”

  “All right, let me make some phone calls. Not saying I can get much done, but I do seem to have a little more pull these days, since I got my act together.”

  “George?”

  “You’re very welcome, Archie, despite your somewhat chilly reception when I got here. You know we do anything for family.”

  Armand and his brothers would, though not everyone in their family was so inclined. Or maybe they had been, and it was why they took his father’s side and not his mother’s.

  “I do appreciate it. Now, kicking you out, because I have a lady to pick up.”

  “Understood. Give me a call while you’re still in New York. You can come over and have dinner with Penny. I promise, she won’t cook.”

  “Her cooking is a threat?” The way George said that suggested it might be.

  “Trust me when I say that she can burn pizza when she’s reheating it. “

  “I’m not even going to ask.” His cousin clasped his hand and they shared another firm handshake.

  “And this is why you and I are still friends. Talk to you soon.”

  Archer gave it a moment, letting George and his crew exit the hotel first. Better to let them get clear before he went outside. A message from Eddie alerted him to the driver’s arrival.

  They needed to stop feeding the beast, but how, when Hoshi had commitments?

  The question plagued him all the way across town as Eddie drove him to the studio. Archer checked his watch frequently, worried that between George’s unexpected visit and the traffic, they would be late.

  Unlike the day before, he brought his phone with him. He left it in his pocket, though. Hoshi didn’t have his cell number. Hell, he didn’t have hers. They needed to correct the oversight as soon as he picked her up.

  “How close are we, Eddie?”

  “Fifteen minutes. Must have a dignitary in town. They’re closing roads so we’ve got to go around. Sorry, Mr. Durham.”

  “It’s fine.” He pulled out his phone and called the studio. The receptionist who answered happily took his message. Hopefully, she would just as cheerfully let Hoshi know to stay inside until he got there.

  They hit another snag in traffic, and he drummed his fingers against the side of the phone. He could run faster than they were moving. What if the receptionist didn’t tell Hoshi? What if she went outside, expecting to see him, and ran directly into the press?

  The car rolled forward less than five feet. That was it. “Eddie, I’m gonna jog over there. Meet us at the studio.”

  “You sure you want to do that?” The driver frowned. The streets might be thick with vehicles, but the sidewalks teemed with humanity. It was lunchtime in the city.

  “I’m sure.”

  Eddie nudged the car forward, edging out a cabby who laid on their horn and got them closer to the sidewalk. Stripping off his jacket, Archer set it on the seat.

  “We’ll wait for you at the studio.” With that, he slid out of the car and made his way to the sidewalk. The dress shoes weren’t right for running, but he could handle three blocks without trial. Jogging, he weaved his way through the other pedestrians.

  Another glance at his watch told him it was only three minutes ‘til he was supposed to meet Hoshi, and he still had a half-mile to go. If he ran, he could make it, no sweat—well, actually with a lot of sweat. So he forced himself to maintain an even pace. Arriving at the studio’s corner, he grimaced at the press presence. They certainly hadn’t wasted anytime in digging in their heels.

  Maybe Felicity was right. As long as they scented blood in the water, they weren’t going to back off. Slowing to a brisk walk, he headed for the main lobby doors. His path took him around the press corps, instead of through them. They barely gave him a second glance. He’d just made the top step when Hoshi stepped out and he had to pause a beat. Had the 80s thrown up all over her? She wore leggings and an oversized sweatshirt with her hair pulled up into a ponytail atop her head. Good God, was that a neon colored sweatband? He was still processing the outfit, when she hurried toward him, her expression tense but her smile genuine.

  The moment the smile in her eyes died, he pivoted to face the onslaught. The photographers rushed forward, along with at least one news camera. They swooped toward her.

  “Miss Sato, are you aware that your brother confessed this morning?”

  “Did you urge your brother to take a deal?”

  Fuck. Me.

  Scowling, Archer strode straight toward her. “Go back inside, sweetheart. Eddie will be here in a minute.” A photographer dove in front of him and snapped his photo, and it was a race to see which of them would get to Hoshi first. She blinked first at Archer, then at the crowd pushing in on her.

  “Miss Sato, is your brother naming his conspirators?”

  “…is he getting a suspended sentence?”

  “What do you say to your fans, who think you’re wholesome, when your brother is just another criminal?”

  “He is not!” She snapped, abandoning any pretense of not engaging. “Why the hell can’t you leave me alone?”

  “Then your brother isn’t naming his conspirators? He’s going to face all the charges alone?” Fresh blood in the water, and they swirled in for the kill.

  Archer made it to her and body blocked one of the camera men, shoving him aside. “C’mon, inside,” he urged her.

  One of the reporters grabbed her arm.

  “Miss Sato, you have to—”

  Seizing the man’s hand at the wrist, Archer applied vicious pressure and jerked him off her, then yanked him away. At his shout, the others went silent, but the cameras clicked away.

  “Get the hell away from her.” Since he’d already made a scene, he gave into the impulse nibbling at him since he’d first rescued her outside the hotel.

  He slugged the son of the bitch.

  Security rushed out of the building, corralling the reporters and urging them away from the building. Knuckles burning, Archer faced Hoshi’s stunned eyes and smiled. “I’d say I’m sorry, but that bastard deserved it.”

  Without another word, he got her inside. Hopefully, George would get Richard on the case and they could figure out what was going on. Until then, Felicity was right about something else. He neede
d to get Hoshi out of the limelight.

  “What just happened out there?” Shock punctuated her question.

  “You engaged, and they got handsy. When he grabbed you, that’s battery.”

  “What is it when you hit him?”

  “Self-defense,” he said with a grin. “And very satisfying.”

  “Archer…” She took his hand, and the gentle way she gripped him then stroked her fingers across his split knuckles elevated the punch from necessary to ecstatic.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “They’ll target you!” Her concern for him struck him as both naïve and deeply compassionate at the same time.

  “I’m used to it,” he assured her, then pressed a finger to her lips before she could add to her apology. “And I chose to take that swing.”

  Her eyes still reflected how stricken by all of it she was and it decided him.

  “Tell me something, these rehearsals you’re doing…when are they recording the show?”

  “I don’t know, there’s been some kind of scheduling snafu. They’re supposed to call my agent.” A darker emotion lurked in her voice. “I have a feeling my market factor may have dropped.”

  “Tonight’s talk show?” He hated himself for asking.

  “Canceled.”

  Fuckers.

  “Then you’re free?”

  “I guess. I was going to wait until I got to the hotel to confirm it, then maybe head home to see if I can do anything…”

  Likely taking the zoo with her or dropping right into the middle of another one. “I get that. You should probably call home, but do you think I could persuade you to get away with me?”

  “Get away?” Confusion showed in her eyes. Outside, Eddie pulled the car up to the curb and the studio security had called in the police to deal with the press. Whether Archer ended up arrested for assault or not, at least the press would be kept away from her long enough to get out of there.

  “Yes,” he said, glancing at her. “Get away. Be impulsive. Run away from the world to the magical, mystical, and I’m assuming as far from the limelight as possible in the middle of the Adirondacks.” When she didn’t immediately reject the idea, he traced the outline of her lips then dropped his hand to her shoulder. “I know it has to be as far from this madness as possible because my publicity person booked me there, and she wants me off the grid and not making trouble for anyone, including my team.”

  “And you just punched someone.” The wince in her voice pulled another smile from him.

  “Yeah, it’s been boring being so good all the time, so I really appreciate the opportunity to put a dent back in the suit of armor.”

  The self-deprecation worked. She laughed. “Archer, I don’t know if we know each other well enough to go away together.”

  “That’s the point. We take advantage of the privacy to get to know each other. No press. No siblings. No hockey team.” No royal family, but he kept that one to himself. “Just you and me, kid. What do you say?”

  6

  “Glad you could tune in today. We have a breaking story. Archer Durham, who you may remember as the subject of a rather risqué sex tape earlier this year, is making the news again—fully clothed, this time. The Ragin’ Cajuns hockey team is celebrating their win of the Cup. The mystique of the Cup is undeniable, both for fans of the game and the players alike. Some lucky few who win at the moment of the final horn get a chance to spend time with the Cup—a private day, as it were. Archer Durham is no exception.

  Sources tell ACE that the hottest playboy on ice not only chose to spend his day with the Cup in New York, but that he intended to take the Cup to see a musical in order to honor his deceased mother. Hold the swooning, ladies, because not only did Durham not take the Cup to the musical, he was instead squiring a very different lady, the latest princess of the pop scene, Hoshi Sato. Sato, as you may recall, won This Girl’s Got Talent with a record-breaking number of votes, landing a recording contract and multiple appearances. She’s also the sister of recently arrested Adonai Sato, who is facing charges on grand larceny, assault, bank robbery, and quite possibly murder. Whew! That’s a whole lot of doing bad things, you know?

  This is a developing story, folks, but it would seem that our playboy prince of the ice may have had his heart stolen by a pop princess. Tune in for more updates.” –ACE, Top of the News Hour

  They’d been on the road for an hour and, every few minutes or so, Archer hit scan on his satellite radio system.

  “I almost miss Eddie,” she said, idly watching as he scanned the satellite radio again. Instead of having his driver take them to the mountain resort, he’d taken the wheel himself. The car itself fascinated her, with all its bells and whistles, including a camera that showed them the rear of the vehicle and a computer that told him when things are getting too close. It seemed a little bit like time travel.

  “My driving isn’t that bad.” The defensive note in his voice enchanted her.

  “Oh, it’s not your driving I’m worried about, though admittedly you take aggressive to a whole new level when it comes to lane changing.”

  His laughter filled the vehicle. “I just don’t like people driving slow in the fast lane.”

  “They weren’t driving that slow, they were going the speed limit.”

  “I don’t like limits, either.”

  His quick retort drew a grin from her.

  “So what do you like?” Honestly, she was still asking herself why she decided to say yes. Things had been bad enough when they’d shuttered the production on the special—not an official close, and only a delay, but it left her confidence bruised. Canceling her appearance on the late night talk show battered her, but thankfully it had been her agent’s idea and not the network. As her agent stated, right now the appearance was only going to heighten the demands for answers about her brother, and everyone seemed rather invested in her keeping silent on the subject.

  “I like you.” His answer pulled her from the dark place her thoughts drifted. “And I like that you said yes.”

  “Still not entirely sure why I said yes,” she admitted. Though it should probably embarrass her to be so blunt, it didn’t.

  “Yeah?”

  “No offense.”

  “None taken. Go ahead and throw all the offense at me you want, sweetheart. I promise you I can take it.”

  He kept doing that. Easing any social faux pas she made and telling her it was okay. He offered her acceptance on all levels.

  “It’s just that we haven’t known each other that long. And I can’t say that we met under the best of circumstances.”

  “I don’t believe there’s any such thing as a good time. There’s only the right time and the time available.” Kind of a deep philosophy for the playboy prince of the ice to take. Instantly, she chastised herself mentally for even referring to him by the stupid nickname. It was nearly as bad as princess of pop. Actually, it might be worse, because they labeled him a playboy, a judgmental term to be sure.

  “Is it possible to have a right time for some things that, at the same time, is a terrible time for others?”

  “Of course. Let’s be blunt. Life is a series of train wrecks, where you’re always looking for the exit off the highway. The right times are when you finally see the exit, but sometimes you got across a lot of traffic to get to it.”

  “You have an answer for everything.” She wasn’t sure whether she liked it or if it annoyed her. Maybe a little bit of both.

  “Okay, I’ll accept that one. I blame my mother. She always made the choice to look on the bright side. If she couldn’t find a bright side, well, she at least found a sardonic and sarcastic side to it. Not always easy when you’re trying to defend the parts of life that suck to a ten-year-old kid.”

  “I can’t imagine you at the age of ten. Were you handsome, or were you the gawky kid who was too skinny and too short with braces and glasses?”

  “Which answer would make you feel better?” He said it was such a s
ly sense of humor in his quirky grin, she couldn’t help but laugh.

  “I have no idea. But I think I would’ve liked your mom.”

  “You would have,” he agreed without an ounce of hesitation. “I know she would’ve liked you. She would’ve enjoyed you a great deal. You’re not afraid to say what you’re thinking. You’re not always looking for what I want to hear or what you think I should hear.”

  “In all fairness, I don’t know you well enough to know what you want to hear.”

  “I wanted to hear yes last night.”

  Her face heated, and she bit her lip.

  “See, you didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear. Just because I don’t hear what I think I want doesn’t mean I don’t like what you have to say.”

  “Okay, then. Why did you invite me on this trip? Is it to get me to say yes?” God help her, she wasn’t sure what answer she wanted from him on that question either.

  “If you say yes, I’ll be happy with it. If you don’t say yes, but you’re still there to hang out with, I’m still going to be happy. Maybe not as happy…” He softened the last with a wink and another grin.

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “I’m completely corrigible. Whatever corrigible is.”

  She giggled. He hit the satellite radio station search again. Unable to take it anymore, she asked, “What are you looking for?”

  “You released a single didn’t you?”

  Horror flooded her. “Oh, no, you’re looking for my song?”

  “Yeah. I have gotten to hear it yet.” He sounded almost apologetic when he said that. “I wanted to hear you sing. According to what everyone is saying, you’re pretty damn good.”

  “You’re telling me you didn’t watch the show?”

  “Hand of God, I did not. You can’t tell me you’ve ever watched a hockey game.”

  “Nope, not even a question. I heard about them, because really you can’t be alive in this country not hear about sports no matter how hard you try. And I heard about other things.” She winced a little and then snuck a peek at him.

  “You can ask me anything you want. Don’t be embarrassed. I have long since given up any sense of public shame where those events are concerned.” Interestingly enough, she believed him. Archer Durham exuded a quiet almost prescient presence. He filled the room when he was in it, and he certainly filled the car. Witty, but also self-deprecating and intensely protective in the same breath.