Seduced by the Game

by editor Lisa Hollett

  As captain of this team, he should be singing Seattle’s praises, waxing poetic over the billionaire owner, and convincing the team this was the best thing that had ever happened to them.

  He wasn't that noble. In fact, he was fucking pissed.

  Chapter 2—Attacking Zone

  Party crashing was an art—if done right.

  Isabella Maxwell should know. She’d been crashing parties for years, at first to get a decent meal and later—much later—as a part-time profession with her three younger sisters. She’d never crashed a party she didn’t take from dud to memorable in minutes.

  Tonight she might have met her match.

  She’d done her research and knew the obstacles and challenges, but nothing prepared her for the scene awaiting her on the party deck of the Washington Queen, a local tour boat rented by the Seattle Sockeyes hockey team for an evening dinner cruise around Elliott Bay.

  As security checked invitations at the door, Izzy snuck past them and peeked in the doorway, scoping out the scene inside—DJ in the corner, empty dance floor complete with mirror ball and flashing lights, not a dancer anywhere. Hockey players were slouched in chairs clumped around tables, reminding her of pimply faced preteens at a junior high dance. Only these boys weren’t preteens or pimply faced. They were a formidable wall of broad chests, muscular thighs, and determined expressions. Each one mirroring the other, but she’d done her research. There was one man she needed to win over to salvage this party, and he hadn’t arrived yet.

  Her sisters had already boarded the boat, managing to sneak past security, every one of them dressed to kill or at least to charm a professional hockey team, Bethany in her plunging Vera Wang gown and deadly high heels. Emma and Avery, the youngest at twenty-one and identical twins, looked every bit like giddy hockey groupies who’d managed to snag an invite to the party. Standing near the buffet table, they giggled and whispered as they stole glances at the players. Several players stared right back. Nearby, Bethany engaged the team play-by-play announcer in conversation, while he stared at her boobs, but men always stared at Bethany’s boobs.

  The stage was set.

  Time to get this party started. The Sockeyes were going to have the time of their lives if she had to threaten bodily harm with their own hockey sticks.

  “Ma’am, I need to see your invitation.” A security guard with a receding hairline, the waist of his polyester pants pulled up to his armpits, and a determined set to his skinny jaw, stepped in front of her before she could enter through the double doors.

  “Oh, that.” Izzy made a show of digging through her saddlebag of a purse, not exactly in keeping with her little black sheath, but it served its purpose. “I know it’s in here somewhere.”

  The security guard wasn’t the least bit impressed. He tapped his toe on the floor and took a ready stance as if he expected her to run any moment. Just what she needed, a SWAT team wannabe. She batted her eyes at him and continued to dig in her purse.

  “I’m sorry. I know it’s here somewhere.”

  “Ma’am, you’ll need to leave the boat until you can find it.”

  She laughed and rubbed one perfectly manicured finger across his name tag. “Now, Carl, you just hold on one teensy bit. We’ll get this straightened out.” Izzy slipped into her fake Southern drawl; it brought most men to their knees.

  Not Carl. In fact, not one hair quivered on his mustache. “My orders are strict. No one, not even the governor, gets in without an invite.” He wrapped scrawny fingers around her arm and pulled her none too gently from the doorway. He might look like a wimp but the guy was surprisingly strong.

  No matter. She’d switch to Plan B.

  “My boyfriend will be here any moment. He must have the tickets.”

  As if on cue, her target for the night walked up the ramp and onto the boat. Cooper Black. The captain of the newly christened Seattle Sockeyes, and the most outspoken man on the team especially when it came to the team’s move and current situation, which he hated—the very man Izzy needed to tame tonight for this situation to turn around.

  Judging by the stubborn set of his jaw and those steely blue eyes, this wasn’t going to be easy.

  * * * *

  Cooper stalked onto the boat hefting a boulder-sized chip on his shoulder.

  No way in fucking hell would he cooperate at this fucking party. Not after what the new ownership had done to his team, his coaches, and the staff. It was bad enough they’d forced him to attend, and no one forced him to do anything. Attend was one thing, play nice was another. They’d find that out soon enough.

  Oh, yeah, he was in a mood. Not even his buddy Cedric could joke him out of it.

  A line of people formed at the head of the dock, waiting impatiently to board the boat. A gorgeous brunette with legs longer than his hockey stick appeared to be holding up the line. She kept digging in her purse and pleading with the rent-a-cop who guarded the door with zealous intent. The guard didn’t look the least bit sympathetic or amused. Instead he politely yet firmly pushed her out of the way and began checking the invitations of the couple behind her.

  She frowned and did a quick survey of the area. Her big brown eyes landed on Cooper, and she headed straight for him. Confidence oozed out of her, and he immediately pegged her as a spoiled rich twenty-something who thought the world revolved around her. He’d met plenty just like her in his thirty-two years.

  She walked closer with the security guard dogging her heels and turned the full-wattage of her gorgeous smile on Cooper, as if she’d been expecting him. He’d never seen the woman in his life.

  Disinterested in whatever game she might be playing, Cooper gazed over the heads of the people in front of him, getting the lay of the land in the ballroom beyond. He caught sight of the suits across the room, minority owners of the team, hanging out with the big guys. Next to them stood the majority owner of the Sockeyes, Ethan Parker, the thieving bastard, and the team’s director of personnel turned traitor, Ethan’s beautiful fiancée, Lauren Schneider. Cooper frowned even harder. They were the enemy.

  Cedric elbowed him then focused his blond, European charm on the woman striding toward them. Good, she could latch on to Ced, and Cooper could get back to his grudge match with the team’s new owner.

  Only the gorgeous pair of legs glided past Cedric with the grace of an Olympic figure skater, and the woman looped her arm through Cooper’s, catching him off guard. Ced’s grin turned to confusion and his eyes narrowed. He always got the women over Cooper. Always.

  “There you are, you bad boy. Shame on you for being late. You know I hate waiting.” She tapped his chest and smiled into his eyes. She was tall, but he was taller, and he wasn’t buying any of what she was selling. Not tonight. Not ever.

  Cooper frowned and narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like being touched unless it was his idea. “I don’t know you.”

  “You’re such a joker, isn’t he, Cedric?” She looked to Cedric for confirmation.

  Cooper’s best buddy opened his mouth to back him up, only no words were spoken. Instead, his confusion turned to an evil grin, revenge lighting up his pale blue eyes. “Seriously, Coop, You know how your princess gets when you play jokes on her.”

  “This isn’t a joke. I don’t know this woman,” Cooper ground out the words, his foul mood fouler.

  The rent-a-cop, identified as Carl by his name badge, stepped forward. “Mr. Black, I’ll have her removed. I can see she’s harassing you.”

  “Carl, I told you, he’s my boyfriend. He’s just a little upset at me for having my way with him and his credit card. Check your list again, I’m sure my name’s on it. Isabella.”

  “No need to check the list.” Cedric held out his arm. “Come on, Isabella, I’ll escort you inside if this asshole won’t.”

  Grumpier than ever, Cooper followed Cedric and Isabella into the ballroom. The woman winked over her shoulder at him as she sauntered into the room as if she owned it, a huge purse clutched in her delicate hand and walking wi
th the grace of an athlete on impossibly high heels. Once inside, she extricated herself from Ced’s hold.

  “Thanks so much, Cedric.” She gave him a peck on the cheek, which really annoyed the hell out of Cooper.

  “It was my pleasure, Isabella.” Cedric dialed up the charm.

  “You can call me Izzy. That’s what Coop calls me.”

  “I don’t call you anything.” Cooper stiffened as she advanced on him, not sure what she’d come up with next. By the twinkle in her dark brown eyes, she wasn’t done with him yet. She put her hands on his collar and gazed up into his eyes like a loving girlfriend.

  Loving? What the fuck? Feeling a bit claustrophobic, he backed up a step, running into a support post behind him. Her gentle laugh reminded him of the songs of the little birds he fed every day on his front porch. He loved listening to those birds in the morning. Her, not so much. And no way in hell would he be listening to her voice in the morning or any time.

  She pressed that sweet body against his in that intimate way lovers had. “I see people I know. I must say hi. You don’t mind, do you, darling?” She kissed his cheek.

  “Not one damn bit,” Cooper growled, catching Cedric holding his stomach out of the corner of his eye. The jerk would be rolling on the floor laughing any minute.

  Isabella strolled away, as if she was out for a walk in the park. Cooper swallowed as he stared at that nice rounded ass of hers and briefly wondered what it’d feel like in his hands. She nodded at a few people as if she knew them, and joined a group of men several feet inside the doorway, charming them immediately. Their hearty laughter bounced off the walls of the otherwise quiet room as she told some entertaining story, which must have involved a high heel, a little dog, and a motorcycle judging by how she expressed everything dramatically with her hands.

  Despite his best intentions, Cooper was mesmerized, then he reminded himself of his intentions not to have a good time just to prove his point. He didn’t know this woman, even though she did attract him on the most basic of levels. But then she’d attract any man as she was drop-dead gorgeous. He’d had any number of gorgeous women on his arm in the past so she shouldn’t be anything special.

  Tell that to his dick. It considered her damn special right about now, most likely because he’d boycotted everything Seattle since he’d arrived a month ago, including its coffee and its women.

  “Your girlfriend is one hot number, Coop. You’d better keep an eye on her or one of these fuckheads will be moving in on your territory. Including me.”

  “Fuck you. You set me up.”

  “And it was damn funny.”

  In another place and time, Cooper would be angling for a piece of that nice ass, but not tonight, not while the new ownership and coaching staff was watching. Cooper Black couldn’t be bought, even if they did buy his team.

  That coaching staff, led by a young first-year head coach, mingled with the crowd, shaking hands and selling the team since the team currently refused to sell itself. Cooper glared at every coach and staff person stupid enough to attempt to engage him in conversation, and his teammates followed suit, loyal to the last man. So far.

  He stiffened and prepared for battle as the man he called the asshole—Ethan Parker—walked toward him, as comfortable in an expensive suit as Cooper was on the ice. Cooper tugged on his collar and loosened his bowtie. He hated wearing a damn tux, wasn’t even sure why he’d put it on at the last minute when he’d planned on wearing a Gainesville Giants hoodie. Blame it on his parents. They’d drummed duty and loyalty into his head since day one. His father, a real life Army hero, and Cooper’s personal hero, made sure his son did what was expected of him. In Cooper’s mind, he was expected to attend this party dressed correctly, and that was as far as duty took him. Fuck the rest of it. His loyalty remained in Gainesville with the fans who’d earned it.

  He glared at Parker, hoping to intimidate the guy, but even his best you’re-going-to-get-the-shit-kicked-out-of-you glare didn’t dissuade the man.

  “Cooper.” Ethan nodded and then smiled at Cedric. “Cedric. So good to see you, gentlemen. Beautiful Seattle night, isn’t it?”

  “If you like drizzle and gray,” Cooper snorted. The weather was pretty much par for the course, and it was fucking July already.

  Cedric, being a loyal friend for once, shrugged and stared at the shoreline.

  “Seattle is ready for a hockey team. Did you realize we have the largest adult hockey program in the country?”

  Cooper grunted.

  “And you’ll be natural rivals for the Canucks up north.”

  Cooper yawned.

  Ethan leaned forward, his eyes narrowing to glittering slits. “Listen, Black, if you think your crappy attitude is going to move you back to Florida, you might be right. Only the team won’t be going with you. I’m willing to be patient, but only for so long. This team is here to stay, whether you fucking like it or not.”

  Cooper stared straight through Ethan, forcing his face into stone, but he could feel a muscle jerking in his jaw. Satisfied that he’d made his point, Ethan strolled away as if enjoying himself.

  “He’s right, you know,” Cedric said from next to him.

  Cooper whipped his head around. “Right? About what?”

  “He can trade your ass any day to a team with no hope of winning, now or for the next decade.”

  “Maybe I want to be traded.”

  “No, you don’t. Not when we came so close.” Cedric sighed, as if he was weary of all this but was too loyal to say so. “Don’t look now, but here comes your girlfriend.”

  “Just what I need. And quit calling her that. I don’t even know the woman.”

  Isabella took a detour to the DJ, spoke to him, and continued across the dance floor. She paused, her gaze directly on Cooper. A slow smile crossed her face, and she raised her eyebrows, glancing pointedly at the dance floor, then at him. He frowned so hard his teeth hurt. He was not dancing with her or anyone else tonight.

  She graced him with a sexy little smile, one of those come-and-get-me-big-boy smiles. He looked away. Despite the fact that his dick skated into the rink, he was staying on the bench. His little head had never been very smart anyway, especially when it came to women.

  The music started, some pulsing, sexy, upbeat dance tune, and Izzy’s hips swayed with a seductive, hypnotic rhythm while she kept her eyes on him. Pretty soon a few other women joined her, dancing together as women often did. A set of twins, blond-haired versions of Isabella, gyrated on the dance floor. The uncanny resemblance set off his warning bells.

  His teammates leaned forward in their chairs, especially the young guys, probably imagining every guy’s most perverse fantasies involving twins. Another equally gorgeous woman with auburn hair joined them, twirling, laughing, having a great time, as if they were the only ones at the party. She, too, could be a sister to the other three. Another weird coincidence? Not a chance. Cooper didn’t believe in coincidences.

  Regardless, he dismissed his suspicions. So they looked like cloned versions of Isabella. So what? He had bigger problems. He glanced at his guys and sensed a mutiny in the making. Even Cedric’s tongue was hanging out. Cooper jabbed him with an elbow and got an “umph” along with a couple “fuck you”s.

  One of the twins danced over and grabbed Mike Gibson’s hand. The horny rookie just about fell out of his chair.

  “Let’s dance.” The cute blonde never quit moving those hips, not once. Cooper shot Gib a look of pure homicide, and the rookie caught it. With reluctance, he shook his hand from the woman’s and pulled away. She frowned at Cooper, then gave him a charming smile; he just glared back. The blonde flounced off in search of another sucker.

  Cooper turned toward the rookie. “We all stand together. Remember?”

  Gibson shrugged. “The women in Seattle are hot, and this isn’t such a bad place. We might as well make the best of it.”

  Cooper stared him down, and Gibson looked away first. The kid might be formidable on sk
ates, but he was no match for a seasoned veteran like Cooper, on or off the ice.

  “There’s no disloyalty in dancing with pretty ladies.” Drew Delacorte, a second-year guy from Toronto, bravely jumped in the conversation.

  “Do I have to spell it out to you? To all of you? Stay away from the groupies.”

  “You came in with one of them.” Delacorte pointed out in a second rare display of defiance.

  “She latched on to me at the door. Ced escorted her in as joke.” Why the fuck did he feel the need to explain himself?

  “He’s playing hard to get. Isabella’s his girlfriend.” Cedric grinned and took a long pull on his beer.

  Cooper heaved a sigh, knowing Cedric would keep this up until the night ended, especially if Cooper made a big deal about it. Unsuccessfully hiding his smile, Drew drank his beer in silence, his eyes on the hot women dancing several feet away. Cooper could feel his hold over the team slipping with each beat of the music. Loyalty was a lost art, but not for Coop, which was exactly why the new ownership would not get his cooperation. Instead they’d understand the full extent of his displeasure. So what if they cut him or traded him?

  Cooper leaned back in the hard chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and glared at Cedric. Cedric just grinned his trademark shit-eating grin. Nothing got to Cedric. Everything rolled off his back as he went on with his life, doing everything his way.

  “They have to be sisters.” Cedric’s eyes followed the redhead as the song ended, and she strutted off the dance floor, short skirt swaying to the movement of her hips. “I’d like to find out if that one is a true redhead. Only one way to find out.” His slow smile said it all. Ced had picked his woman for the night, and he usually got what he wanted.

  The song ended and Isabella danced all the way across the floor to his side.

  “Fucking groupies,” Cooper muttered, pissed that they were wearing down his teammates’ resolve.

  “Lighten up, man.” Cedric chuckled and nodded toward the banquet table. “Besides, they aren't groupies. Take a closer look.”