Page 10 of Matched with the Player

Because there, at the valet stand, stood Marissa. She still wore her sexy glasses and her silk wrap, her dark hair tucked in a neat twist. Only now, she chatted away with Leandre Gagnier, the teammate who’d thought she was so damn hot he’d catalogued everything about her in his description to the team less than ten minutes earlier.

A fierce wave of possessiveness rose out of nowhere. He could totally appreciate why cavemen brandished a club to ward off their competition. In hockey, he could battle for what he wanted, but out here, he couldn’t body-check his teammate into the boards or throw down gloves in the parking lot of a fancy hotel.

“Marissa.” He hadn’t meant to announce himself until he had a plan, but her name rolled off his lips unconsciously, a primal need to stake his claim.

Both heads turned. Marissa gave him a distant, polite smile that was a far cry from the fireworks he’d seen in her eyes earlier. Leandre presented a Cheshire cat grin that told him he’d been making a play for the sizzling hot matchmaker.

“Can I give you a lift?” Kyle offered, urging her silently with his eyes. Didn’t she recognize a player when she saw one?

“I have my car, thank you.” She kept her chin high, no doubt enjoying her opportunity to rub his nose in the fact that he’d walked away from her before.

An awkward pause followed where Leandre seemed to be waiting for him to get lost and Kyle fought the urge to haul Marissa away to address the unfinished business between them.

Finally, Leandre spoke up. “Marissa is a professional matchmaker. I thought I might test out a new way of dating.”

Kyle nearly choked on the guy’s gall.

“You’re kidding, right? Have you told her that your idea of a first date involves a hotel room? Or that you have about as much intention of committing as -”

“Okay.” Marissa slid her hand around his forearm, her fingers spread wide like the talons on a bird of prey. “Enough. Did you have something to discuss with me, Mr. Murphy?”

“Damn right, I do.”

“Hey, I was here first,” Leandre whined until Marissa smiled serenely at him.

“And I’m so grateful that you’re considering my offer, Mr. Gagnier. May I give you a call tomorrow to follow up on our conversation?”

Leandre grinned like a kid playing teacher’s pet, his scarred smile so ingratiating and fake it was all Kyle could do not to snarl.

“I look forward to hearing from you.” He acted like he wanted to say more, but the valet rolled up with the guy’s flashy black-on-black BMW M8. “I’m very interested.”

As he slid into his car like a snake into its den, Marissa released her hold on Kyle’s arm.

“What business did you want to discuss?” She turned on him, arms folded, her manner decidedly less pleasant under the harsh exterior lights surrounding the valet’s key rack.

“I was trying to save you from that low-life.”

“The only thing you accomplished was scaring off business and potentially harming my bottom line.” Her violet eyes gave no quarter, the unusual color vivid even through the glasses. “In a night when you’ve already cost me a bundle, how can you honestly deny me the chance to sign on some potential candidates for my services?”

“Is that what dating is all about these days?” He snagged his keys and handed them to one of the kids retrieving cars. “Fattening up your bottom line?”

Marissa felt like a pin had been stuck in the balloon of her frustration. All her righteous indignation at Kyle’s he-man tactics hissed away as she deflated right there in the parking lot.

Kyle’s words exposed a weakness she wasn’t proud of, the fact that she might be selling out to help her mother. But, oh God, what choice did she have?

“What’s the matter?” he continued to rant, oblivious to the raw nerve he’d struck. “Cat got your tongue? Truth hurt?”

A snappy comeback was really called for right about now. She needed to deflect and march away. But she’d failed on every level tonight and she didn’t have it in her to argue with a man who hadn’t let her off the hook for her shortcomings.

“Actually, yes.” She shoved her glasses higher on her nose, wishing she had plastic to shield the whole rest of her body from this man’s appeal. “Perhaps you have stuck too close to the truth for my liking.” She cleared her throat to get rid of the frog that lurked there. “I will take your complaint under advisement.”

Blindly, she reached for her keys on the valet stand, but they all looked alike to her and for some reason, the display appeared blurry.

“Oh crap.” Suddenly, Kyle was right beside her, tilting her chin up in his big, broad palm, angling her face under the hideous fluorescent lights. “I made you cry.”

The utter horror in his voice snapped her out of the momentary self pity. Thankfully, her voice was steady.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chided, mustering all the cool disdain possible. “Spring is hay fever season. Something on the grounds has been making my eyes water all night.”

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