Page 41 of Offside

I open the door to accept the food and bring it into the kitchen. I pull out plates and utensils and dish up the fragrant food, the tomato and garlic scent reminding me of trip to Italy my uncle took me on as a high-school graduation gift.

Marv purchased the Vikings right after that trip and then bought this condo.

The condo is open and beautiful, with a grand staircase that leads up to a primary suite overlooking Stanley Park, the West Vancouver skyline, and the Burrard Inlet. It’s an incredible view and on sunny days with the mountains in the background, it’s even more magnificent.

Tonight, the lights of the downtown skyline twinkle from afar and the mist on the windows left by the rain makes them sparkle like tiny diamonds.

“Smells delicious.”

I startle, and my gaze darts to the hallway to see Ballas walking toward me.

“Hey, you’re supposed to stay in bed,” I grouse, placing the plate on a tray. “I was going to bring this to you.”

He snorts. “There are only two things I like to do in bed. Eating is not one of them. Unless, of course, it’s to feast on your...”

The tray I’ve prepared wobbles in my hands, and the sound of the glasses clinking together stops him from finishing the sentence. I can’t look at him and instead put the food down on the table.

“Then I guess we’ll eat out here in the dining room.”

Ballas takes a seat at the end of the table. I avoid opening that can of worms by focusing on placing the food in front of him and avoiding his perceptive gaze.

“Thanks. This looks good.”

“My grandmother used to say soup is good for what ails you,” I say, handing him a spoon for the minestrone I ordered as the starter. His fingers brush over my knuckles when he takes it and a streak of lightning bolts up my arm.

I ignore the chemical reaction and take the corner seat, placing the napkin on my lap before picking up my own spoon. I submerge it into the steamy hot soup and extract a heaping spoonful, blowing on the contents to cool it off before I take a bite.

“There are other things I think could be good for what ails me.” His words are provocative and potent.

I lick my lips as I notice where his pulse flickers fast in the side of his neck.

God, this man is so irritatingly handsome.

I snicker. “Do I need to remind you of your concussion?”

“Just telling it like it is. Head injury or not, it doesn’t diminish my attraction to you, sweetheart.”

The look in his eyes is molten hot. Hotter than the soup.

I set my spoon down in the bowl and tilt my head. “Are you always this way with women, Ballas? Always so forward about sex?”

He seems to think on this for a minute, raising his eyebrows, and then peers seductively at me. That look from his dark gray eyes could render any woman speechless and probably pantyless.

I wish things were simple between us. Where we were just a man and a woman with an insane attraction to each other and we could do something about it.

Because I would throw caution to the wind if it wouldn’t land me in a compromising position. I would let him into my bed in an instant with no regrets.

Unfortunately, those issues can’t be resolved tonight, not while he’s here dealing with a head injury and I’m still in charge of the Vikings franchise.

“I have been known to flirt and to say what’s on my mind.” His gaze meets mine and my heart flips in my chest. The low timbre in his voice sends tingles through my belly. “But it goes beyond that with you, princess.”

“Why do you call me that? I’m not a princess.”

Ballas runs a hand over his jawline. “You’re definitely an heiress and I’d consider you kind of hockey world royalty. Tell you what,” he offers, tapping a finger against his chin. “I promise I won’t call you princess…inpublic. How’s that?”

I roll my eyes and sniff. “You’re so bad. Don’t strain yourself.”

He leans in closer and I feel a bead of sweat roll down my back from the heat of this attraction. “I agree with you there. I’ve been known to be very,verybad.”

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