Page 29 of My Pucking Crush

“What’s your real name?” This unsettles me.

“No.” He swears under his breath. “I’m not putting that information in your head. Experts know when people are lying.”

“That’s terrifying. The Russianmafia?”

He nods. “And I doubt Richmond will be the only team bought by a crime syndicate.”

“Hockey teams cost millions of dollars.”

“Belova and other bosses havebillions.”

“Yet you had to cook for his sister?” I fold my arms. “What did you do for Belova?”

“Kill people,” he deadpans, finishing the pasta.

“Jesus.” My breath whooshes from my lungs. “Don’t hold back or beat around the bush.”

“I was third in line on the enforcer team. Hold your praise, it was a nice title, but a shit job.”

“What happened?” I swallow. “After your wife died?”

“A month after the accident, Belova sent me to Boston on a hit with mercenaries. More families are using them. They’re cheap, and great for one-and-done jobs. They usually get paid through a third party. That’s how I identified the shell company that paid the broad who lured you to the hotel. Mercs are given minimal instructions. They didn’t know me or my relationship to Belova. The job was simple, until we were ambushed, and they all died.”

“All of them? How many?”

“Eight. I was set up. The hit was on me, not our target, who didn’t exist.” He stares at the wine, his jaw tensing.

“I can’t even imagine.”

“Belova wanted to cleanse my family name. But they trained me well. I shot my way out and laid low.”

If working for a professional hockey team counts.

“How did you know about the hit and that you were the target?” I ask, stunned.

“One guy on the team gave a deathbed confession as he bled out. That I was set up. He’d been told the whole operation. That meant Belova planned to kill them. These mercs didn’t realize that Belova plays dirty like that.”

Play dirty... He’d said that before. He wasn’t kidding. Suddenly his being assigned to protect me doesn’t sound so excessive.

With the dish empty, Luca takes it and rinses it out. Despite suggesting he leave it for Gilda, he cleans up the entire meal and loads the dishwasher.

“Is Belova the reason you’re not renewing your contract?” I turn and face him.

He studies me with steady scrutiny. “In a way. I can’t risk him figuring out where I am. It’s not fair to bring that heat on the team. I had a good run. Five years. Now it’s time to move on.”

“Where?”

He smirks. “Find another mafia house, a family, a brotherhood. For protection. Loyal bosses punish the death of their capos and soldiers with a vengeance. If the right don takes me, I won’t have to worry about Belova. Even if he finds me.”

“You have ahousein mind?” I bring the goblet to my mouth, surprised how easily I adapt to the lingo.

He stares at my lips like he’s wondering how the wine tastes on them, and I’m warmed by the thought. “I do. In Manhattan.”

The city that never sleeps.

I’d been tempted to head down to the city. I’d heard about all the sex clubs on that tiny island. Figured it’d be easy to find one and get my urges satisfied by the right male who has no idea who I am, guys I’ll never see again.

Luca satisfies one of those two elements. As soon as the season is over, I’ll never see him again. It strikes me how much that bothers me. But also drives my desire to get this man into my bed. Just for one night. Get it out of my system. Gethimout of my system.

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