Page 51 of Love Game

He stepped into her office and started to swing the door shut. “Let’s get this straight once and for all. I don’t ever again want to hear you imply that I’m scared of a playoff system.”

“Noted,” she whispered as the latch caught.

His volume dropped, but the steel in his voice remained. One dark brow shot up. “Your place at seven?”

Sitting up straight, she locked eyes with him. “Yes.”

“What do you mean, ‘Yes’?”

“I mean, yes, he is picking me up at my place at seven.”

Silver-blue eyes narrowed to slits, but the intensity was laser sharp. “Picking you up for what? A date?”

Kate lifted her chin high, staring down her nose at him. She was playing with fire, but she was tired of feeling trapped and defensive. He was the one with everything to lose, and if he hadn’t learned how to protect his own interests by now, she sure as hell wasn’t about to rescue him. She’d been in her office for less than forty minutes, and already she felt like that video game frog trying to cross a busy street. She’d be damned if she’d sit still while a passel of testosterone-charged morons tried to run over her from every direction. “What’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me?” He goggled at her. “What’s it to me?”

He jabbed his chest with his index finger, and she winced. She’d fallen asleep with her cheek on his shoulder and her hand in that exact spot. She knew the tickle of the crisp, curling hair between his pecs. Kissed his flat, brown nipples until they rippled. She’d sketched every ridge in his abs and stroked the trail of silky black hair that arrowed down his belly. Pursing her lips, she forced herself to hold his gaze when she really wanted to let it drop lower. She swallowed hard and pitched her voice low to keep it steady.

“So far today, I’ve had your buddy Mike in here telling me all about the morals clause in your contract, threatening to put one in mine, and basically telling me I can ruin your career, my career, or both if I let this continue.”

“If you let it—”

Too het up to deal with his indignation, she cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Then I had Jim Davenport practically grilling me about why I haven’t seen him since you came on the scene.”

“I didn’t know that you and old Jim were that close.”

She stepped out from behind her desk, ready to nip this argument in the bud. The last thing she had the patience for was another man barging into her office and dragging his baggage along with him. “I have had exactly two full hours of sleep, three sips of coffee, and my yogurt is expired. If you want to be pissy, I suggest you do it in your office and not mine. I’ve had enough guff from men today.”

* * *

Damn, she was gorgeous. Spots of pink rode high on her cheeks. “Guff?”

Nope. He couldn’t score a smile. Still, Danny held her gaze, just for the sheer pleasure of it. Sparks of gold shone bright in her eyes, and her feet were planted wide. She was a thousand times sexier than any female wearing track pants and a T-shirt had a right to be. The belligerent tilt of her chin warned him to tread carefully, but he couldn’t help baiting her just a bit.

“But I want to be pissy here. There’s no one in my office—”

She mumbled something that sounded like, “Lucky you,” making him grin.

“—and I missed you.”

She blinked, and those gold lights in her eyes went soft and melty. For about half a second.

“You can’t do this, Danny.” She threw her arms up in frustration. “That’s the point. You can’t come to my office and be pissy and sweet and tell me you miss me. You can’t park in front of my house and ring the damn doorbell as if there’s nothing at stake here.”

She came right at him, stopping only when they stood toe-to-toe. He started to reach for her, anxious to wrap his arms around this breathtaking Valkyrie.

“You like to think you’re invincible, but you of all people should know you’re not.”

He wrapped his hands around her elbows as if she were the one who needed steadying. Clearing the rasp from his throat, he shrugged and tried for a casual tone. “I’ve been fired before.”

She nodded slowly, but her lips thinned into a tight line. “Maybe that’s what you want.”

“What?”

“Maybe that’s what this is all about. Wolcott’s your way back into Division I, but maybe I’m your ticket out of the basement.”

A frown pulled at his brows. Confused, he searched her eyes for clarity, but all he found there was wariness. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

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