Page 4 of Faking the Shot

He couldn’t have looked away even if he wanted. Her dark blue eyes held him captive, her red lips parted over white teeth, the perfection of her features searing his heart and mind. He’d met many pretty women before, but few he would count as beautiful. This woman—Ainsley, he thought he’d heard her called—was one.

Around them, he gradually grew aware of the many photographers and reporters. And the fact he was still bent holding her in his arms. That her leg with its glass slipper was stretched out in a dancer’s pose, like he remembered from watching Luc Blanchard hold his partner in the recent season ofDance Off Canada. And that if he didn’t move soon it would definitely look like something was going on between them. So he gently lifted her upright, one hand at her back to steady her as she tucked that jeweled shoe from sight.

“I think you need better shoes,” he murmured.

She glanced at him, tugging up her dress. “If I had my way I’d be wearing Converse.”

Huh. He thought women like her enjoyed getting dressed up and attending events like these. But what would he know? He was only here because a Stanley Cup win had apparently made him a hot commodity, and his agent and teammates had said it’d be good for his profile to attend. But obviously taking fashion advice from the likes of Chris Thomas had been a mistake. Who wore no socks in November? His feet were freezing, and he was used to ice. He didn’t know how Ainsley and the other women with no jackets on were coping. The sooner they all got out of here the better.

“Ainsley! Are you hurt?” A reporter called.

“I’m fine, guys. Thanks.” She lifted a hand, waved, her smile sparkling as before.

Clearly this woman was a pro, even if perhaps she didn’t love the spotlight as much as he’d first assumed.

“Ainsley, over here!” Another reporter called. “Is there any truth to the rumor that you’re dating Jason Streetley?”

Who? Zac dropped his hand away from her.

She pivoted back, her glance catching Zac’s again for the briefest of moments. He caught a glimpse of something that looked like exasperation, before that wide smile reappeared as she waved to fans on the opposite side of the steps.

“Ainsley? Are you okay?” Some guy he half-recognized hurried over, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his movements, his glance at Zac, clearly proprietary.

Zac stepped back. Okay, so she did have a boyfriend. Good to know.

“I’m fine.” She wriggled from the man’s grasp and faced Zac, her expression holding a plea.

But Zac wasn’t into stealing other guy’s girls. And while he thought they’d shared a moment of connection in that silent conversation when staring into each other’s eyes, she obviously wasn’t the one he was supposed to be looking for.

So he nodded, and offered tweaked lips, and a muttered, “Glad you’re okay,” and hurried past them and up the stairs.

“Dude.”

Zac peeked across to where Chris Thomas stood with his wife and some other teammates near the entrance. “Hey.”

“Was that Ainsley Beckett you were just holding?” Diana Thomas asked.

“Who’s she?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? She’s only the face ofAs The Heart Draws.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh my gosh!” She turned to her goalie husband. “I can’t even continue this conversation.”

Chris sighed loudly. “Ainsley Beckett is one of Canada’s most popular young actresses, a Christian known for her sweet roles including the lead role in western dramaAs The Heart Drawsand many Hallmark movies,”he said, as if quoting from an IMDb biography. He nudged his wife. “How was that, hon?”

She ignored him, her eyes fixed on Zac. “You truly didn’t recognize her?”

Zac shrugged. “I don’t watch Hallmark movies.”

“But she’s so beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you are.” Chris kissed his wife on the cheek.

She rolled her eyes. “He’s proof that love is blind.”

“Well, obviously,” Chris said. “You say you love me, so there’s your proof right there.”

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