1
Present Day
“Are you sure this won’t take too long?” Nadia Warner asked, following her twin brother toward the entrance to the ice rink where the Denver Rebels were practicing that evening.
Nelson laughed, glancing over his shoulder at her. “How many times are you gonna ask me that question?”
“I just—” Nadia broke off as a man strode past and jostled her without bothering to apologize.
“Excuse you,” she tossed after him.
He didn’t even glance back.
She scowled. Obnoxious hockey fans.
At the entrance to the ice rink, Nelson flashed his press pass to the security guard, who smirked and waved them through. The smirk raised Nadia’s hackles, although her brother was undoubtedly used to it. As a sports reporter for one of the smallest newspapers in Denver, Nelson didn’t command the same respect as his peers at The Denver Post. Even in an industry plagued by declining circulation and shrinking profits, reporters at obscure newspapers would always rank the lowest on the totem pole.
As Nadia and her brother entered the ice rink, she was surprised to see the crowd of spectators that had come out to watch the team practice. She had never attended a professional hockey game and knew next to zilch about the sport. So she couldn’t imagine caring enough to willingly sit through an hour or more of practice. If it weren’t for her brother, she wouldn’t be there at all.
She and Nelson had been on their way to a bar to meet some friends for drinks when his editor, Tanner Corrigan, called to tell him that the reporter who usually covered the Denver Rebels had had a family emergency. So it was up to Nelson to attend the team’s final practice before their season opener against the Minnesota Wild.
Nadia wasn’t happy about the sudden change of plans. After a long day of visiting high schools as a college recruiter, she’d been looking forward to unwinding over cocktails with her friends. Watching a bunch of overpaid jocks chase a puck around an ice rink wasn’t her idea of a good time. But she’d suck it up and be a good little sport for her brother’s sake. After all, what were twins for?
They found first row seats in one corner, which gave them an unobstructed view of the entire rink. The players were going through some sort of passing and scoring drill on the ice. They looked huge in their helmets and pads and black jerseys. Huge and intimidating.
Since Nadia didn’t watch hockey, she didn’t know any of their names or the positions they played. Well, except maybe for Reid “The Rocket” Holden, the team’s star defenseman and resident bad boy. Every Coloradoan knew who he was. His ruggedly handsome image was plastered on billboards and banners across the state. On the ice, he was celebrated for his explosive speed, scoring prowess and ruthless physicality. His reputation for delivering fierce body checks and bone-crushing hits had earned him the adoration of fans and the grudging respect of opponents and critics.
Nadia found herself scanning the ice rink for the superstar’s number six jersey. Or was it number nine? She couldn’t remember.
“Who’re you looking for?”
“No one,” she lied with a shrug, watching as her brother pulled out his trusty reporter’s notebook.
With his baby-smooth brown skin, black-framed eyeglasses, angular jaw and wiry build, Nelson was handsome in a nerdy sort of way. He’d never been popular or outgoing, but he had a dry wit that made people laugh and put them at ease. While Nadia was prone to bouts of pessimism, her brother could find humor in even the most serious situations. He and Nadia had been inseparable since birth. He was her wombmate, her best friend, her better half. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.
Smiling softly, she reached over and brushed a hand over his misshapen Afro. “You need a haircut.”
“So you keep telling me,” Nelson said distractedly, watching the hockey players on the ice. “You know how busy I’ve been since football season started. I haven’t had time to go to the barber. Today was the first day I’ve had off in weeks.”
Nadia smiled wryly. “And look where you are. Sitting rinkside at the Rebels’ hockey practice instead of knocking back half-price mojitos at happy hour.”
He chuckled. “What can I say? Duty calls.”
Nelson covered high school and college football for the Denver Dispatch. It was the perfect gig for a guy who’d always loved sports. Growing up, he’d dabbled in everything from baseball to hockey to soccer. Unfortunately for him, enthusiasm was no substitute for talent. When he reached high school and failed to make the football or basketball team, he’d been forced to face the hard, cold reality that athletic stardom simply wasn’t in the cards for him. Since he would never achieve fame and glory on a playing field, he did the next best thing: He became a sports reporter. And he was a damn good one too. As far as Nadia was concerned, the Denver Dispatch didn’t deserve him.
Glancing around the arena, she marveled, “I can’t believe this many people showed up for practice. On a weeknight, at that.”
Nelson smiled. “You know the Rebels have a diehard fan base. And they usually practice in the mornings, not evenings.”
“So why are they practicing tonight?”
“It’s a special tradition. Several years ago, there was a water leak in the arena that forced the team to postpone practice until the evening. It happened two days before the regular season started, and a lot of fans showed up for practice that night. It must have brought the Rebels good luck, because they went on to beat the Bruins in the first game. I mean they destroyed them,” Nelson recalled with a grin. “As a result, the team began holding a light evening practice two days before the start of each season. And since then they’ve won every season opener.”
Nadia chuckled. “Superstitious much?”
Nelson grinned. “I’ve never met a hockey player who wasn’t.”
“Hmm. I’ll take your word for it.” Nadia sighed, leaning back in her seat and crossing her legs. “Not to sound like a whiny brat, but are you absolutely sure we won’t be stuck here for hours?”
“We won’t,” Nelson assured her with amused patience. “Once practice is over, I’ll need to interview some of the players and get a few quotes for my column. Then we can go grab dinner. My treat.”
Nadia grinned. “Now you’re talking.”
While Nelson watched the Rebels run through their practice drills, Nadia took out her cell phone to check her email. Since she was stuck there until the team finished practicing, she might as well make good use of her time.
She had several work-related messages, including one from a colleague who had questions about one of her design job requests. She responded to his message, then hopped on Snapchat to remind her student subscribers about an upcoming college fair.
Suddenly she felt an odd sensation over her skin, a prickle of awareness that made her glance up.
That was when she saw Reid Holden skating up the ice toward her.
Her mouth went strangely dry. Phone forgotten in her hand, she stared at the Rebels’ star defenseman.
He was skating along the boards, pushing his puck out in front with the blade of his stick. Locks of thick dark hair poked out from under his helmet. His square jaw was shadowed with dark stubble that gave him a gritty appeal. He looked tall and imposing on the ice, and his shoulders were so broad they would have stretched the fabric of his jersey without the pads.
Six, Nadia noted absently. His number is six.
As he came closer, she could see the piercing blue of his eyes.
And then suddenly he lifted his head and looked right at her.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Reid visibly slowed down, his eyes locked on hers.
A few seconds.
That was how long the connection lasted.
The space of three heartbeats. Maybe four.
It wasn’t long. But it affected Nadia more profoundly than anything she’d experienced in a very long time.
As she and Reid stared at each other, she felt an unmistakable pull between them, an invisible cord drawing them together. She was breathing too hard, she realized, and her heart was doing a weird little tap dance in her chest.
And then he smiled.
A slow, purely wicked smile that had her thighs clenching together.
It was only when he looked away that she was able to breathe normally again.
As he skated past her, she swallowed hard and glanced over her shoulder. She half expected to see a gorgeous blonde or brunette with big blue eyes and big breasts sitting behind her. Those were the types of women Reid Holden preferred, the types he was photographed with at black-tie events and the wild parties he attended. Busty bimbos were what caught his eye, not conservatively dressed college recruiters.
Surely he’d been looking at someone other than Nadia. But when she glanced behind her, all she saw were two middle-aged men with beer bellies and receding hairlines.
Not exactly Reid’s type.
So he had been looking at her.
Blushing at the thought, Nadia reached up and self-consciously smoothed a hand down her ponytail. She wondered what Reid had seen when he’d looked at her. She wondered if he’d found her attractive in her white blouse, tailored gray slacks and sensible low-heeled pumps. Was that why he’d smiled at her? Because he liked what he saw?
Why do you care?
I don’t, she told herself.
She wasn’t into jocks. She preferred sensitive intellectual types who shared her love of books and indie films. The first jock she’d ever dated was the second-string running back on her high school football team. They’d met in U.S. history class and struck up a rapport. Greg was cute and funny, and unlike most of the other athletes who’d strutted around school like they owned the place, he’d seemed like a genuinely nice guy. But she should have known better.
One day after school while they were studying for a major history test at the local library, Greg had reached under her skirt and roughly groped her through her panties. She was so shocked and appalled that she’d jumped out of her chair and slapped him across the face. He hadn’t taken her rebuff very well. The next day at school, he’d started a nasty rumor that she was an undercover freak who enjoyed violent gangbangs. Every time she’d passed his friends and teammates in the hallway, they’d leered at her, made kissing noises and crudely propositioned her. She was so hurt and humiliated, she thought she’d never live it down.
The harassment stopped only after Nelson got suspended from school for fighting Greg, which caused their outraged parents to intervene. As a result, Greg was kicked off the football team, and he and his comrades were warned to stay away from Nadia.
After that painful experience, she should have sworn off jocks for good. But, no, she’d had to go and date a popular basketball player during her sophomore year in college. Once again, he’d fooled her into believing he was a nice guy who could be trusted. As soon as she gave up her V card, he’d dumped her, leaving her heartbroken and humiliated beyond belief.
A glutton for punishment, it would take one more nightmarish experience to serve as her wakeup call.
Now, at twenty-five, she was a little older and wiser, so she knew better than to fall for a hard body and athletic prowess. Give her brains over brawn any day.
“Man, I’d kill to get an interview with him.”
Nadia swiveled her head around to stare at her brother. She’d almost forgotten he was there, and apparently he’d missed The Moment between her and Reid. Thank God.
“Who are you talking about?” she asked him.
“Reid Holden,” Nelson answered. “I’d love to get a quote from him for my column. My editor would be impressed as hell, and Garrett would have a damn fit.”
Garrett was the Dispatch’s hockey beat writer, the guy who should have been there tonight instead of Nelson. “Why would he have a fit if you quoted Reid Holden in your column?”
“Because Reid doesn’t talk to reporters.”
Nadia raised an eyebrow. “Ever?”
“Ever.” Nelson grinned. “It would shock the shit out of everyone if a lowly writer from the Denver Dispatch got a quote from Holden. Hell, Corrigan might even give me a promotion for accomplishing such a feat.”
Nadia laughed. “Really?”
“Hell, yeah. No reporter has gotten a word out of Reid in over three years. He hates journalists. He doesn’t even give interviews to Sports Illustrated. Getting him to talk to me would do wonders for my career.” Nelson had an almost dreamy smile on his face as he imagined the possibilities. Although he enjoyed covering high school and college football, he was ready to move up to the major leagues—namely hockey, which was his favorite sport.
Grinning, Nadia bumped her shoulder against his. “So do it.”
Nelson blinked at her. “Do what?”
“Get a quote from Reid.”
Her brother frowned. “What part of ‘He doesn’t talk to reporters’ did you not understand?”
“Oh, I understood perfectly,” Nadia countered. “But I’ve never known you to back down from a challenge, Nels. If getting Reid Holden to talk to you will give your career a boost, you have to at least try. What do you have to lose? All he can do is ignore you, right? I mean, you don’t normally cover the Rebels, so it’s not like you have to worry about getting yanked from the hockey beat for pissing the guy off.”
“That’s true,” Nelson conceded, looking thoughtful.
“So go for it,” Nadia urged. “Be fearless. Ask him a question. You might catch a lucky break.”
Nelson nodded slowly, the arena lights glinting off his eyeglasses as he stared off toward the rink. “Maybe I will.”
When practice was over, the players skated off the ice and headed down the tunnel to the locker room.
Nadia and Nelson waited until most of the crowd had dispersed before they followed after the team. Nadia expected to be stopped by security and redirected to the lobby to wait for Nelson. But no one barred her from entering the restricted area with her brother. She figured security would be tighter once the regular season started.
There were several reporters waiting to go inside the locker room to interview the players. When one of the team’s assistant coaches opened the door and gestured to the group, Nelson flashed a crooked grin at Nadia.
“Wish me luck.”
She winked. “You got this.”
“We’ll see.” Nelson turned and followed the other reporters inside the noisy locker room.
Left alone in the hallway, Nadia wandered to the other side and leaned back against the wall, settling in to wait for her brother. When her phone buzzed, she pulled it out of her front pocket and glanced at the screen. She smiled when she saw that her parents had sent photos from their annual ten-day Caribbean cruise. She scrolled through pictures of them snorkeling, water skiing and exploring some tropical cave.
Looks like you guys are having a blast, she texted.
We are, her mother wrote back. It’s always good to get away and recharge the batteries. How are you and Nelson? Staying out of trouble?
Of course, Nadia responded with an angel emoji.
She could picture her mother laughing before she wrote back: I’d better not run up my roaming charges. See you and your brother in a week!
Nadia was still grinning when her phone buzzed with another incoming text. This one was from Jessilyn, her bestie and coworker who was at the downtown bar with their other friends.
Any chance u guys r on ur way yet???
Not yet, Nadia texted back. Practice just ended. Nelson’s talking to the players now.
In the locker room?
Nadia grinned. Yes.
Ooh! Lucky him!
Nadia shook her head as she texted back: Nelson doesn’t care about seeing a bunch of sweaty jocks naked.
I know, Jess replied. U should have snuck in there with him.
Nadia chuckled. No thanks.
U don’t want to see buff, naked hockey players???
Nadia paused, her mind flashing on an image of Reid Holden. Okay, so maybe she wouldn’t mind seeing him naked. With a face like that, his body had to be hot as hell.
Licking her lips at the thought, she typed: U guys will probably be gone by the time we leave here.
Probably. I need to get home and study for my theory test, and the others have early meetings tomorrow.
Nadia sighed. I understand. Sorry we had to bail tonite. Rain check for Friday?
Sounds good, Jess texted back. Tell Nelson to sneak u into the locker room. It’s the least he can do for making u miss happy hour.
Girl, bye, Nadia retorted with a laugh. After sending the text, she switched over to her email program so she could finish catching up on her work emails while she waited for Nelson.
She’d just sent off a message when the locker room door opened. She glanced up, surprised to see her brother coming out.
“Done already? That didn’t take—” She broke off as one of the Rebels players appeared behind Nelson.
But not just any player.
Reid Holden.
When those piercing blue eyes met Nadia’s, a shiver ran through her body.
She straightened quickly from the wall, her gaze darting to Nelson. His eyes were gleaming with excitement, and he had the biggest grin on his face.
As he approached with Reid, Nadia couldn’t help staring at the handsome hockey superstar. His thick dark hair was unruly, falling over his forehead in damp locks. He’d changed into a ribbed gray shirt that stretched across his wide shoulders and clung to every muscle of his broad chest and powerful biceps. His dark jeans hugged him in all the right places. As he came toward Nadia, the play of muscles in his strong thighs made her mouth water.
“Nadia,” her brother said with that ridiculous shit-eating grin, “there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
Why? Nadia wondered, feeling like a deer in headlights as Reid Holden came to a stop directly in front of her. He was wearing a pair of heavy black boots. Even without his skates on, he was tall enough to tower over her.
“Nadia, this is Reid Holden,” Nelson introduced them. “Reid, this is my sister, Nadia.”
Ignoring her racing pulse, Nadia smiled and extended her hand. “Hi.” Her voice was little more than breath. “Nice to meet you.”
Reid stared down at her as he took her hand, his large, callused palm curling around hers and swallowing it in a firm grip. The contact sent a rush of arousal from her fingertips to her swelling clit.
“The pleasure’s mine, Nadia.” His voice was much deeper than she’d expected. It slid over her, spreading heat through her veins and making her insides go all tingly.
She quickly withdrew her hand and stepped back, needing to put some distance between herself and the sexy-as-sin jock.
Nelson was still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Reid saw you during practice and wanted an introduction.”
“Oh?” Trying to mask her surprise, Nadia looked from her brother to Reid. “Did you at least give him a quote for his column first?”
Reid’s eyes glinted. “Only on the condition that he introduce me to you.”
“I see.” Nadia bit her lip, contemplating him.
A small white scar ran above his left eye, and there was a crook in his nose where it had been broken before. Instead of detracting from his good looks, the imperfections only amplified his rugged masculinity. Reid Holden was a badass, a tough guy who gave as good as he got and had the battle scars to show for it.
Suddenly Nadia realized that he was staring back at her, returning her appraisal. As those intense blue eyes slowly traced her features, her palms moistened and her heart began beating a little faster.
Okay, a lot faster.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she racked her brain for something clever to say. Something to defuse the awareness sizzling between them like high-voltage electric currents.
“So, Mr. Holden—”
“Reid.”
She faltered, blinking. “What?”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “Mr. Holden’s my old man. Call me Reid.”
“Um…” She swallowed. “Okay.”
His eyes glinted. With amusement or approval, she couldn’t tell. “Mind if I call you Nadia?”
When she shook her head, he smiled. And damn if her knees didn’t go weak. She couldn’t help it. Between his gorgeous face, ripped body and insanely sexy voice, the man was a walking wet dream.
“Beautiful name, by the way.”
Nadia licked her dry lips. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, his gaze lowering to her mouth.
She could feel the heat coming off his big body, feel her skin tingling and her scalp prickling with awareness. He smelled positively delicious, like soap and hard-working man. When he shifted a little closer, her belly clenched, and for a moment it was hard to breathe.
Although she was no stranger to sexual attraction, she’d never experienced anything like this before. It was…hell, it was scary as fuck.
“Now what were you saying?”
Nadia stared up at Reid, her thoughts scattered. “Saying…?”
“A moment ago. I think you were about to ask me something.”
“Oh.” She bit her lip. “I don’t remember.”
He nodded, watching her intently. “Are you coming to our season opener on Thursday?”
The question caught her off guard. “Um…well…I hadn’t really planned—”
“Nadia’s not much of a hockey fan,” Nelson interjected apologetically. Until that moment, Nadia had completely forgotten he was there. “But I’ll be at the game.”
Reid nodded, but he didn’t look satisfied. Lowering his eyes, he stared at Nadia beneath his dark lashes.
Heat rose in her cheeks. Suddenly the ground beneath her felt as slippery as if she were standing on ice.
What does he want from me? she wondered.
Just then the locker room door opened, and the Rebels’ head coach stuck his head out and called to Reid, “Holden. Got a minute?”
Reid cast a lazy glance over his shoulder. “Be there in a sec.”
The coach nodded and ducked back through the door.
As Reid returned his attention to Nadia, Nelson piped up, “Any chance I could interview you for the Dispatch?”
Without taking his eyes off Nadia’s face, Reid murmured, “I don’t give interviews.”
Nelson was undeterred. “I know you don’t. But since you’ve already broken your silence by giving me a quote, I was hoping you’d be open to answering more questions.”
Reid stared at Nadia another moment, then shifted his gaze to Nelson. “I don’t give interviews,” he repeated.
Nelson grinned sheepishly. “Sure you won’t reconsider?”
Reid gave him a long look, his eyes narrowed.
Oh, shit, Nadia thought. Nelson must have pushed him too hard.
The same thought apparently occurred to her brother, because he visibly swallowed. But before he could start squirming, Reid chuckled and began backing across the hallway.
Determined to press his luck, Nelson called out, “So is that a definite n—”
Reid pointed to Nadia. “Bring her to the game.”
Before Nadia could sputter out a protest, Nelson promised, “She’ll be there.”
Reid nodded, a satisfied smile quirking his lips before he turned and disappeared inside the locker room.
Nadia watched him go, then swung around to stare at Nelson in stunned disbelief. “What the hell was that?”
Nelson laughed, cupped her face between his hands and planted a smacking kiss on her forehead. “That, dear sister, was my lucky break!”