28
Shortly after reid signed his first NHL contract, he fulfilled another dream by moving his parents to the north, buying them a mansion on the lake in Bloomfield Hills. The exclusive residential community boasted lush woodlands, scenic watercourses and windy roads that led to multimillion-dollar estates.
That evening as Nadia stood staring up at the white-columned brick mansion looming in front of her, a knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach. It wasn’t the lavishness of her surroundings that intimidated her—the sprawling house, the glistening lake, the five acres of velvety green lawn, the scent of old money wafting through the crisp winter air. She came from an upper middle-class background, so being around the über rich didn’t faze her.
What unnerved her was the prospect of meeting Reid’s parents—namely his mother—and being judged unsuitable based on nothing more than the color of her skin. It saddened and angered her, and made her feel even more apprehensive than she’d felt taking Reid home to her family on Thanksgiving.
Observing her anxious expression, Reid reached down and took her palm, lacing his fingers through hers. His hand felt strong and warm, and she clung to it.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he assured her, just as he’d done on Thanksgiving. “Come on.”
Fighting the urge to run back to the car and drive away—with or without Reid—Nadia forced her legs to carry her across the circular cobblestone drive and up the curved steps to the massive front door decorated with a silk-ribboned wreath.
If nothing else, she felt pretty confident about her appearance. Wanting to make the best impression on Reid’s parents, she’d splurged on a Chanel silk sheath the color of midnight blue. The gorgeous dress was paired with nude heels that made her legs look longer and shapelier. Jess had kindly directed her to a YouTube video that showed her how to style her hair in a classy topknot that accentuated her features. Her makeup was subtle, her lips tinted nude with just a touch of gloss. As luck would have it, one of the Chanel purses Reid had given her was a nude clutch, the perfect accessory for her shoes.
When she stepped out of the bedroom to join Reid, his eyes had widened and he’d let out a low, throaty growl of appreciation. On the way over to his mother’s house, he couldn’t stop staring at her, touching her cheek and telling her how amazing she looked. Although his compliments bolstered her spirits, she knew it would take more than a fabulous hairdo and designer dress to win his mother’s approval.
As Reid moved to unlock the door, Nadia raised an eyebrow at him.
He grinned. “We all have keys to one another’s houses. It’s sort of a family thing.”
“Ah. I see.” Struck by a sudden thought, she grabbed his arm. “Wait. What do I call her? Your mom, I mean. Did she change her last name after the divorce?”
“No. She kept it. So you can call her Mrs. Holden.”
Before Reid could turn the key in the lock, the door was suddenly yanked open by a guy who could only be Reid’s younger brother. When Nadia saw him, her eyes widened and she did a double take.
Ryder Holden was practically the spitting image of his brother. With their striking blue eyes and thick dark hair, they could almost pass for twins. They were even built the same, big framed and rugged with wide shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist and long legs. Both were dressed similarly in button-down dress shirts and tailored charcoal slacks that made them the perfect cover models for GQ—the roughneck edition.
Nadia could easily picture Ryder working on an oil rig, his face streaked with grime, sweat dripping off his bulging biceps as he drilled for oil. She bet he even had badass tattoos like his brother.
“Well, look who’s here.” His voice was a deep, smoky drawl—the kind of voice that made women clench their thighs. “If it ain’t the future Mr. and Mrs. Holden.”
Reid laughed, putting his hand around Nadia’s waist and bringing her closer to his side. “Nadia, this meathead blocking the door is my brother Ryder. Ry, this is Nadia.”
She smiled a little shyly. “Hello, Ryder.”
Those blue eyes flared with blatant male appreciation as they roamed her face. “How you doing?” he drawled, his big hand swallowing hers in a handshake. His skin was warm, rough with calluses. Yet another similarity to his brother.
“Please come in.” He opened the door wider, then held up a hand to block Reid. “Not you. Just her.”
Nadia laughed.
“Get the hell outta here,” Reid growled, grabbing Nadia’s hand and shouldering his way into the house.
As she stepped past Ryder, she didn’t miss the way his eyes lowered to discreetly check out her ass. She gave him a pass because she’d done a bit of ogling herself. The man was as ridiculously hot as his brother.
All thoughts of Holden hotness were pushed aside as she looked around the cavernous foyer, awed by the opulence of the Baccarat crystal chandelier, double winding staircase, curved balcony and gleaming marble floors. Swags of garland decorated the wrought iron stair rails, and white poinsettias adorned an antique Hepplewhite sideboard.
Reid playfully punched his brother on the shoulder. “Where’s your ride, man? I didn’t see it in the driveway.”
“I took the Harley,” Ryder said, punching him back. “Mom made me park it in the garage. You know how she is. She hates motorcycles—doesn’t like seeing ’em in her driveway.”
“I know.” Reid chuckled dryly. “Where is she?”
“Still getting dressed. Said she’d be out in a minute.”
Reid nodded. “What about the rest of the gang?”
“Avery called and said her last appointment ran over. She’ll pick up Aria when she’s on her way. Dad should be here soon.” Ryder’s lazy gaze shifted to Nadia, his eyes glinting with irrepressible mischief. “Can I get you anything, beautiful? Some coffee? A glass of wine? My number?”
Nadia laughed as Reid scowled and slapped the back of his brother’s head.
From across the foyer a coolly amused voice said, “Now, now, boys. You know the rules. No fighting in the house.”
Everyone turned around.
Nadia’s anxiety returned with a vengeance at the sight of Arlene Holden walking toward them. Her eyes were trained on Reid, as if she weren’t ready—or willing—to acknowledge Nadia’s presence.
Reid smiled at her. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hello, sweetheart.” She pulled him into a tight embrace, hugging him as if she hadn’t seen him in years.
She was an elegantly attractive woman with refined features and cool green eyes that could probably turn frosty on a dime. She was thin and regal, wearing a silk crepe sheath in a delicate shade of green that complemented her eyes and porcelain skin. The color of her hair was somewhere between auburn and dark brown. It was short and expertly layered, no doubt the work of a stylist at a high-end salon. A single strand of pearls encircled her slender throat, and matching pearl drop earrings dangled from her ears.
As Nadia stared at her, it was hard to picture her as a multitasking hockey mom shuttling Reid back and forth to practices, cleaning his equipment and organizing bake sales. She looked more like a society matron who’d been born into wealth, the kind of woman who attended ritzy cocktail parties and rubbed shoulders with the privileged and powerful.
Reid scooped an arm around Nadia’s waist, tucking her possessively to his side. “Mom, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Nadia. Nadia, this is my mother.”
Nadia mustered a friendly smile. “Hello, Mrs. Holden,” she said, extending her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hello, dear.” Arlene’s handshake was cool and impersonal, her eyes critically assessing Nadia’s appearance from head to toe. If she approved of what she saw, she gave no indication.
“Dinner will be ready soon,” she announced, her gaze encompassing Reid. “Would either of you care for something to drink?”
Nadia smiled. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“I’m good too,” Reid said.
“Very well.” Arlene affectionately patted his cheek. “Maeve was sorry she missed you yesterday when you dropped by. Why don’t you head to the kitchen and say hello to her while I give Nadia a quick tour? We’ll join you after we’re finished.”
Reid hesitated, looking at Nadia.
Sensing his reluctance to leave her side, Arlene tucked her arm through Nadia’s and shooed him off with an elegantly manicured hand. “Go on, darling. We’ll be fine.”
Nadia didn’t miss the wary look that passed between Reid and Ryder. It heightened her own misgivings about being left alone with their mother. But there was no diplomatic way to object without offending the woman. So she just smiled gamely as Arlene steered her from the foyer.
A “quick tour” of a 15,000-square-foot mansion was virtually impossible. There was too much ground to cover: a mahogany-paneled library, an expansive formal dining room, a sunroom, a billiard room, a sommelier’s dream wine cellar, a lavishly appointed parlor with a Bösendorfer grand piano. The bedrooms upstairs were spacious with tall, wide windows and vaulted ceilings that created a feeling of openness. All nine of them included a fireplace and private bath, and most had balconies overlooking the manicured grounds of the estate.
Although the mansion was beyond spectacular, Nadia couldn’t imagine living in such a humongous place, especially by herself. The lonely echo of her footsteps moving through the vast house would depress her, and most of the rooms would go completely to waste.
But she kept the thought to herself and simply remarked, “You have a very beautiful home, Mrs. Holden.”
“Thank you, darling.” Arlene smiled proudly. “Avery decorated every room. Over the years she’s redesigned many mansions that she described as ‘garish monstrosities’ and ‘ostentatious museums.’ She wanted to make sure our house didn’t fall into those categories.”
“Well, she certainly succeeded.” Nadia smiled warmly. “I’ve seen her work. Reid’s house is absolutely gorgeous.”
“Yes, it is.” Arlene gave her a sidelong glance. “Do you spend a lot of time there?”
There was no mistaking the displeasure in her voice. Pretending not to notice, Nadia responded nonchalantly, “I’m there pretty often. I live with my brother, so Reid prefers to hang out at his place so we can have privacy.”
“I see,” Arlene said tightly. “I suppose I don’t have to wonder what you and my son do with all that, ahem, privacy.”
Nadia felt her cheeks warm. Somehow she managed to grin cheekily and quip, “You probably wouldn’t want to know.”
Arlene looked less than amused. “Indeed.”
They descended the staircase to return to the first floor. As they neared the kitchen, Nadia could hear the sound of laughter and a woman’s voice mingled with Reid and Ryder’s. Before she could celebrate the end of the tour, Arlene steered her past the kitchen and down an arched hallway that led toward another wing.
“There’s just one more room I wanted to show you,” she said.
It was all Nadia could do not to cast a longing glance over her shoulder toward the kitchen.
Arlene released a blissful sigh. “That son of mine has been so good to me. After he was drafted into the NHL, he purchased this house for me and his father. It’s the home Roark always wanted to give us, but could never afford. And Reid didn’t just stop at buying the house and all the furnishings; he also bought us matching Cadillacs. On top of that, he gives me a generous monthly allowance, and he hired me a personal chef and nutritionist to make sure I maintain a healthy diet.” She paused, touching the strand of pearls around her neck. “I don’t know if he told you about my cancer.”
“He did,” Nadia said solemnly. “I’m very sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Arlene said, waving off her sympathy. “I’ve always believed that what doesn’t kill you can only make you stronger.” She smiled brightly. “And last but not least, here’s what we affectionately call the ‘Hall of Fame’ room.”
Nadia stepped through the doorway and let out a soft gasp.
The entire room was a shrine to Reid’s achievements on the ice. One wall was covered in framed photographs that served as a pictorial timeline of his hockey career from an early age. His high school and college jerseys were mounted, framed and hung on another wall painted black and gold to represent the Rebels’ colors. Proudly showcased on the same wall were magazine covers and feature articles written about him, including a full-page spread in the Detroit Free Press that had a picture of him shaking hands with the NHL commissioner on draft day. The other two walls were lined with glass display cases containing trophies, medals, plaques and keepsake pucks from games and tournaments Reid had played in over the years.
As Nadia slowly walked around the room, she was awed by the sheer number of awards and honors Reid had received, starting from his youth all the way up through the pros. He’d won several major awards while at Boston College, including the prestigious Hobey Baker Award given to the NCAA’s top hockey player. He’d also been named Most Outstanding Player after captaining his team to two NCAA championship victories. In the NHL he’d won the Norris Trophy twice and the Hart Trophy as the league’s MVP, had been voted to the All-Star Team every season and was selected for the U.S. Olympic men’s hockey team.
Nadia’s heart swelled with pride as she admired the numerous trophies, enjoying the way the light reflected off each one. It was clear that Reid had been destined for greatness from an early age, a point reinforced by his mother’s next words.
“We always knew he’d become a superstar,” she said proudly. “He learned to skate before he could walk. Took to the ice like it was in his blood.”
Nadia smiled, remembering the anecdote Reid had shared with her on their first date at the café.
“He can be very modest, so he graciously allows me to showcase all his trophies here instead of his own house.” Arlene chuckled. “I think it embarrasses him a little to see this shrine erected in his honor. But what can I say? I’m proud of my baby boy’s accomplishments.”
“As you should be,” Nadia said, wandering over to the wall of photos. As a little boy, Reid was as devastatingly cute as she’d suspected he would be. Sturdy and athletic, with an infectious grin and bright blue eyes under a mass of unruly dark hair.
“I remember how excited he was when he met Bobby Orr for the first time in high school,” Arlene fondly reminisced. “He was so awestruck he lost his voice for a few moments, could only stand there and gawk at Bobby.” She chuckled at the memory. “Meeting his hero was all he talked about for weeks afterward. Since then, Bobby has become a trusted friend and mentor. We’ve even had him over for dinner a few times.”
“That’s wonderful,” Nadia murmured, touching a picture of Reid holding up some major trophy as he beamed triumphantly into the camera.
His mother came up beside her. “As you can see from this room, hockey means everything to Reid. He doesn’t have any room in his life for distractions.”
It was a warning if ever Nadia had heard one.
Slowly she turned her head to meet the older woman’s cool gaze.
Several seconds passed.
“Everything all right?”
Nadia and Arlene turned to find Reid standing in the doorway with his hands on either side of the door frame. His eyes locked onto Nadia’s, searching her face for signs of distress.
“Of course everything’s all right,” his mother said with an airy laugh. “I was just showing Nadia all of your awards and hockey memorabilia. No tour of the house would be complete without seeing the ‘Hall of Fame’ room.”
Reid glanced around, grimaced ever so slightly and shook his head.
Arlene laughed again. “I told you this room embarrasses him,” she said to Nadia.
Nadia smiled at Reid. It didn’t escape her attention that he hadn’t stepped one foot over the threshold.
When he held out his hand to her, she gladly crossed the room to take it. She was eager to put some distance between herself and his mother.
“C’mon,” he murmured. “Let me introduce you to Maeve.”
As Arlene followed them down the hallway, Nadia could practically feel the woman glaring daggers at her back.
As they neared the foyer, the front door opened, and a tall man stepped inside the house.
A broad grin swept across Reid’s face. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey there, son.” With impeccably groomed silver hair and piercing blue eyes, Roark Holden was the epitome of a silver fox. He cut an impressive figure in a white dress shirt, dark gabardine trousers and polished Italian loafers.
He closed the door and came forward with long, powerful strides. His eyes were focused on Nadia, his smile wide and full of relaxed charm. “Well, hello, young lady. You must be Nadia.”
She smiled warmly. “Hello, Mr. Holden. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure’s mine, I assure you.” He shook her hand, his large, tanned fingers swallowing hers up. Reid and Ryder had not only inherited their father’s good looks; they’d also inherited his big hands.
Roark grinned at Reid and slapped him warmly on the shoulder. “Well done,” he said, a glint of approval in his eyes.
Reid grinned.
Nadia blushed.
Roark looked across the foyer and nodded to his ex-wife. “Arlene.”
She pressed her lips together and lifted her chin. “Where’s your mail order bride?”
Roark chuckled, taking the jab in stride. “If you mean Hanh, Reid and I decided it would be best if she didn’t join us this evening.”
“Oh?” Arlene lifted an eyebrow at Reid. “When did you decide that?”
“Does it really matter?” Roark interjected with a look of mild exasperation. “The point is she’s not here. So you can relax.”
Arlene gave a haughty sniff. “Who says I can’t relax when she’s around? Your little girlfriend is of no consequence to me.”
Roark and Reid gave her a skeptical look that made her scowl.
Nadia watched the heated exchange like a spectator at Wimbledon. If nothing else, she was grateful to have the focus of attention off her for a while.
Arlene gestured curtly in the direction of the living room. “Shall we sit?”
She led the way across the foyer and through the high arched doorway of the living room. It was large and plushly carpeted with a coffered ceiling and a hand-carved marble fireplace. A fire crackled in the grate, and the mantel was festooned with framed family photos and swags of garland. The tall picture windows were covered with elegant custom drapes, and the furniture and paintings looked seriously expensive. Tiny white lights twinkled festively on a soaring Douglas fir with perfectly wrapped gifts arranged underneath.
Reid and Nadia sat together on a plush settee upholstered in silk.
Arlene walked to a Louis XV armchair made of ornately carved mahogany, then sat down and elegantly crossed her legs.
Roark strode across the living room to the wet bar, where he poured himself a snifter of scotch. “I know the girls are running late,” he said, “but I thought Ry was here.”
“He is,” Reid confirmed, draping one arm along the back of the settee. “He got a call from work while we were in the kitchen. It sounded pretty urgent.”
Arlene frowned. “I hope he won’t be called away. He works too many hours as it is.”
“Nonsense,” Roark scoffed. “A little hard work never hurt anybody. And the boy’s well compensated for his labor.”
Arlene glared at him. “That’s not the point.”
“Of course it is.” Roark took a deep swig of his scotch, downing half of it in one gulp.
Nadia exchanged a look with Reid. It was going to be a long night.
“So how are your folks doing, Nadia?” Roark asked conversationally.
“They’re doing well,” she answered.
“That’s good.” He poured himself more scotch. “Reid tells me your father has his own dental practice.”
Nadia smiled. “Yes, he does.”
“That’s wonderful. And your mother…” Roark trailed off, snapping his fingers as he tried to remember. “Wait, don’t tell me. Your mother’s an administrator at Presbyterian/St. Luke’s Medical Center.”
“That’s right,” Nadia confirmed, trying not to shiver as Reid caressed her nape with his thumb.
Roark crossed the room to sit on the sofa, grinning broadly at her. “I understand that twins run in your family. You have a twin brother, and so does your father.”
“Yes, sir.” Nadia grinned. “Crazy, right?”
“It’s a bit unusual.” There was a twinkle in Roark’s eyes. “Now what would be crazy is if you and Reid ended up having twins too. Then I’d probably have to call the folks at Guinness World Records.”
Nadia and Reid laughed warmly.
Arlene shifted in her chair. Her lips were pinched together, betraying her displeasure.
“So when do we get to meet—” Roark broke off as his phone rang. Holding up a finger, he pulled the mobile out of his pocket and answered the call with a hearty, “Hello there, Forrest.”
He listened for a moment, then laughed deep in his throat and drank more scotch.
When Arlene shot him a pointedly raised eyebrow, he got up and left the room. As Nadia watched him go, she couldn’t help wishing it was Reid’s mother who’d gotten the call instead. She’d take Roark’s warmth and charm any day over Arlene’s frosty demeanor.
As if she’d read her mind, Arlene gave her a thin smile. “So, Nadia, how are you enjoying your trip to Detroit so far?”
“I’m having a fabulous time,” Nadia replied, smiling at Reid. “Your son has been the perfect host.”
“I’m sure he has. It’s not every day he brings a woman home to meet the family.” Arlene’s tone suggested it should have stayed that way. “I hope you haven’t been keeping him up too late at the hotel. He needs his rest for tomorrow night’s big game.”
Reid gave her a wry look. “I’m not a child anymore, Mom. You don’t need to monitor my bedtime.”
“I know.” She gave him a motherly smile. “I just want to make sure you get enough sleep. I’d hate for you to play poorly tomorrow because you stayed up too late doing…other things.”
Nadia’s face flamed. Oh, God. Kill me now.
Reid merely chuckled, unfazed by his mother’s inappropriateness. “If it makes you feel better, Nadia and I took a nap this afternoon after we came back from sightseeing. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Nadia’s face grew hotter at the memory of their “nap,” which they’d taken after Reid fucked her against the French doors and then the floor before they managed to crawl up to the bed and collapse into a dead sleep.
“Right, baby?” Reid prompted, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“Right,” Nadia said weakly.
His mother’s eyes narrowed.
Thankfully at that moment, Roark strode back into the room, tucking his phone away. “That was Forrest Oakley,” he said to Reid.
“The textile baron?”
“Right.” Roark grinned. “When I saw him at the yacht club a few weeks ago, he told me that his grandson would be visiting the same weekend you came home. The boy just turned nine and he’s really interested in playing hockey. He’s a big fan of yours, so Forrest was wondering if you could come over and talk to him for a few minutes, give him some advice and encouragement.”
Reid frowned. “Now?”
“I know it’s an imposition,” his father said apologetically, “but you’ll be busy preparing for the game tomorrow, and the boy’s leaving on Sunday morning.”
“I understand, but—”
“We don’t have to stay long. Forrest knows we’re having a family dinner, so he didn’t want to intrude by coming over. He lives one street over on Rathmor. We could be there and back in ten minutes.” Roark’s expression turned imploring. “It would really mean a lot to Forrest and his grandson if you came over. He also hinted at giving a generous donation to the community center.”
Reid hesitated, looking at Nadia. He was clearly reluctant to leave her again.
It made her feel a little guilty. If he could spend time on his own with her father, surely she could survive a few more minutes alone with his mother.
She gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. You can go.”
He still didn’t move, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
Arlene made an exasperated sound. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Reid Tyler. I’m not going to throw your girlfriend into a boiling cauldron. She and I will be just fine.”
Reid shot her a look of veiled warning.
She blew him a kiss and shooed him off.
He touched Nadia’s knee. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” She forced a bright smile to put him at ease.
Giving her one last apologetic look, he got up and followed his father out of the room.
The moment he was gone, Arlene turned to Nadia with a smile that made her feel like a cornered canary.
“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink? I can fix you a martini or anything else you’d like.”
Although Nadia could probably use a stiff drink right now, she politely declined. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“All right,” Arlene said graciously. “If you change your mind, just let me know.”
“I will,” Nadia agreed, resisting the urge to fidget nervously on the settee.
Arlene leaned back in her chair, her hands neatly folded in her lap. “So what do you do back home in Denver?”
Nadia had a sneaking suspicion the woman already knew all about her. But she’d play along and dutifully answer her questions.
“I’m a college recruiter.”
“How nice,” Arlene said in a tone that bordered on condescending. “What college do you work for? Is it a university?”
“No,” Nadia replied. “It’s called Mountain View Community College.”
“Oh? A community college?” The criticism implicit in Arlene’s tone was not lost on Nadia. Working at a two-year college was apparently beneath the woman’s standards. “I assume you have a bachelor’s degree?”
“I do. From Northwestern.” Nadia paused. “I received a master’s in counseling from the University of Colorado.”
“Oh? You have a master’s degree?”
“I do.”
Arlene looked reluctantly impressed. “How wonderful.”
“Thank you.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
Arlene nodded slowly, appraising her features. “You look like you just graduated from college.”
If anyone else had spoken those words, Nadia would have taken it as a compliment. But Arlene made her youthful appearance sound like a flaw.
“So what do you intend to do with your master’s degree?” she inquired.
“Well,” Nadia answered, “I eventually hope to become director of recruitment, either at Mountain View or another college.”
“Really?” Arlene gave her a plastic smile. “Good for you.”
Nadia just smiled.
Arlene turned to look at the flames crackling quietly in the fireplace. She didn’t speak for several moments, lost in thought.
Nadia waited.
Finally Arlene began in a remote voice, “I met Reid’s father at the University of Michigan. I was from Grand Haven, he was from Detroit. I was a history major and an honors student. Even though I wanted to become a professor, my mother always made a point of reminding me that she’d sent me to college to find a husband, not a career. I considered myself a feminist, so I found her views antiquated, the antithesis of women’s liberation. And then I met Roark and…I fell for him. Hard.” She shook her head and smiled, absently fingering the strand of pearls around her neck. “He wasn’t supposed to be my type. He was a hockey player, certainly not my intellectual equal. But he was kind and charming and so very romantic. He swept me right off my feet.”
Nadia smiled, enjoying Arlene’s nostalgic recollections. More of this please!
“Because he was so talented,” Arlene went on, “everyone naturally assumed he would be drafted into the NHL. When it didn’t happen, he was devastated. Utterly heartbroken. Playing professional hockey was all he’d ever wanted to do. Once that dream was shattered, he was completely lost. He didn’t know what his purpose was anymore. The only thing he was sure of was that he loved me and wanted to marry me. He took a job at Ford so he could provide for me and the big family we both wanted. Before we got married, he made it perfectly clear that he wanted me to be a stay-at-home mom. The old me would have resented him for asking me to give up my career ambitions. But I had changed in so many ways since meeting him. Love does that, you know. It challenges your perspective, makes you see life in whole new ways. Anyway, I respected Roark’s wishes because I shared his hopes and dreams for our future. We were both committed to raising a son who would grow up to become a professional hockey player.” She sighed, her gaze shifting from the fireplace to Nadia. “I think it’s important for parents to share the same vision and goals for their family. Life is so much easier when a husband and wife are on the same page.”
Nadia nodded slowly, thinking, Where is this going?
Arlene looked at her in silent speculation. “If you and Reid were to marry, he would probably want you to stay home with your children. Are you prepared to do that, Nadia? Are you willing to forfeit your career for the sake of your family? Are you prepared to devote your life to nurturing and grooming the next hockey superstar?”
Nadia swallowed nervously. “Um, well—”
“Because if you’re not willing to make the necessary sacrifices, your relationship with my son probably isn’t going to work.”
Nadia bit her lip, twisting her hands in her lap. “The thing is, Mrs. Holden, Reid and I haven’t really discussed those sort of things. Not in depth anyway.”
They had, of course. But that was nobody’s business but theirs.
“I see.” Arlene tapped her fingernails against the curved arm of her chair, observing Nadia with an assessing gleam in her eyes. “I hope you weren’t too easy for him.”
Nadia blinked, heat suffusing her face. “Excuse me?”
Arlene chuckled indulgently. “My son has always been the proverbial chick magnet. He’s used to women making themselves available to him, giving him whatever he wants. I hope you at least made him work for it.”
Nadia didn’t think her face could get any hotter. “With all due respect, Mrs. Holden,” she mumbled, “I really don’t think that’s any of your business.”
Arlene smirked. “I’ll take that as a no, then.”
Nadia met the woman’s arctic green eyes and felt chilled to the bone, but she refused to be intimidated. “Take it however you want.”
Those eyes narrowed to icy slits.
Nadia plastered on a brittle smile. “All you need to know, Mrs. Holden, is that Reid has been very good to me.”
“I’m sure he has.” Arlene gave her a look of amused condescension. “You don’t like black men?”
Caught off guard by the question, Nadia stammered, “I…I—”
“One of my closest friends is married to a black man.” Arlene gave a disdainful sniff. “To each her own, I suppose.”
Nadia bristled at the veiled insult. “I don’t have a problem with black men. How could I when some of the most important people in my life are black men?” She paused. “Reid is actually the first white boyfriend I’ve ever had.”
Arlene lifted a single eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yes.”
Arlene carefully smoothed a hand over her silk dress. “Well, I suppose if you’re going to experiment, you couldn’t have chosen any better than my son.”
“I agree,” Nadia said evenly. “He’s one of a kind. But I’m not experimenting, Mrs. Holden. I love your son very much.”
Arlene gave her a patronizing smile. “Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you?”
Nadia didn’t know how to respond to that. So she said nothing.
An awkward silence fell.
After several moments, Arlene sighed and pursed her lips, appearing to be deep in thought.
Nadia waited tensely. Something told her she wasn’t going to like the next words that came out of the woman’s mouth.
“You know,” Arlene began in a philosophical tone, “blue eyes are a prominent trait on Roark’s side of the family. Generations of Holden men have been blessed with those piercing blue eyes. If you and Reid were to marry and have children, in all likelihood, they wouldn’t inherit his eye color.”
Nadia shook her head slowly. “Probably not.”
Arlene sighed deeply. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world, obviously. But I think it would be a real shame to lose such a remarkable family trait.”
“Hmm.” Nadia could feel a muscle twitching above her right eye. “I’m sure Reid and I would be more concerned about the health of our children than their eye color.”
“Well, yes, of course,” Arlene said, dismissing the remark with a wave of her hand. “That goes without saying. And I’m sure your babies will be beautiful, as most biracial children seem to be. But I worry though….” She let the sentence trail off and pursed her lips.
Nadia frowned at her. “Worry about what?”
“Well, no one can deny that many blacks are naturally gifted athletes. There’s a reason they dominate so many sports, particularly basketball and football. But one sport they haven’t managed to conquer is hockey. You see, there’s a certain level of skill and coordination required to play hockey. It’s not just about speed and brute strength.” Arlene gave a lamenting sigh. “Unfortunately, I worry that your biracial children will be at a considerable disadvantage.”
Nadia narrowed her eyes. “A considerable disadvantage?”
“Yes. I fear they simply won’t have what it takes to play hockey at a high level.”
As the full meaning of her words sank in, Nadia stared at her in outraged disbelief. “What are you saying, Mrs. Holden? Are you saying that our children would be inferior hockey players just because they’re half black?”
“That’s exactly what she’s saying,” Reid growled furiously, marching into the room. “And she’s wrong. Dead fucking wrong.”
“Reid!” his mother gasped, startled by his sudden appearance. “I didn’t know you were back.”
“Obviously not.” He glared at her. “What’s this bullshit you’re spouting off to Nadia?”
His mother thrust her chin in the air. “I was merely pointing out—”
“Bullshit. What you were ‘pointing out’ is complete bullshit. Jarome Iginla and Johnny Oduya are two biracial players who’ve had successful NHL careers. P.K. Subban is fully black, and he’s considered one of the best defensemen in the league right now. So it’s absolutely insane for you to sit there running your mouth about the supposed inferiority of black hockey players. You sound ignorant at best, racist at worst.”
His mother blinked rapidly, her face reddening. “There’s no need to take that disrespectful tone with me.”
“Seriously, Mom?” Ryder demanded, coming up behind Reid. “That’s all you have to say for yourself?”
She shot him a withering look. “You stay out of this!”
“The boy’s right, Arlene,” Roark interjected, standing next to Ryder. “We overheard your comments as we were coming inside, and you were way out of line. You can’t possibly believe the ridiculous things you were saying.”
“You all misunderstood me,” she said with a toss of her head.
“Oh, we understood you perfectly,” Reid jeered. “And so did Nadia. You owe her an apology.”
His mother glared at Nadia, who stared back at her with a look of grim disgust.
Arlene’s mouth tightened stubbornly before she returned her gaze to Reid and lifted her chin. “I think the two of you are making a big mistake by—”
“The only mistake I made was trying to keep the peace and spare your feelings!” Reid exploded. “I should have set you straight the moment you opened your mouth to complain about my relationship with Nadia!” He raked her with a look of angry contempt. “Maybe living in Bloomfield Hills has gone to your head and given you a false sense of superiority. Maybe living in this mansion has put you out of touch with reality. Whatever your problem is, you need to deal with it. I’m so fucking serious, Mom. If you can’t respect the woman I love, you don’t need to come to my game tomorrow night. Stay home and watch it on TV. Or don’t. I really don’t give a damn what you do.”
Hurt flared in her eyes. “You don’t mean that.”
“The hell I don’t!” Reid marched over to the settee, took Nadia’s hand and pulled her to her feet. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he drew her possessively to his side and jabbed a finger at his mother. “If you have a problem with Nadia, you have a problem with me.”
His mother slit her eyes and crossed her arms, giving him her most reproachful glare. “After everything I’ve done for you, and after everything we’ve been through together as a family, I can’t believe you would cut me off just because I don’t approve of your girlfriend.”
Reid stared her down. “Your disapproval is rooted in something ugly and reprehensible. You didn’t raise us this way, so I don’t know where it’s coming from. But I won’t stand for it, you hear me? Nadia isn’t going anywhere. I love her and I’m going to be with her, and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it. So either get on board, or stay the hell away from us. Choice is yours.”
His mother’s chin trembled, but she met his eyes with a diamond-hard glare. “You’re making a terrible mistake.”
Reid gritted his teeth as a fresh surge of anger rushed through him.
“Unbelievable.” Roark shook his head at his ex-wife with a look of sad disappointment. “Sometimes I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
Something like shame flickered in her eyes before she looked down at her lap.
At that moment they heard the front door opening and the rapid click of high heels hurrying across the foyer. Then Avery and Aria appeared in the doorway of the living room, their cheeks flushed from the cold.
“Sorry we’re late,” Avery apologized, looking around. “I—”
“We were just leaving,” Reid said curtly.
His sisters looked confused. “What? But we just—”
Without another word Reid stalked past them, leading Nadia from the room, across the foyer and out of the house.
Once they were inside the car, he turned to face her, draping one arm across the back of her seat. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“About what?” she said, bitter humor twisting her lips. “About the fact that we left before eating dinner? Or the fact that your mother thinks procreating with me will give you inferior offspring?”
Reid scowled. “Dammit. I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone with her.”
“Probably not.” Nadia’s laugh was brittle and sardonic. “But at least now we know how she would feel about her future grandchildren.”
Reid’s gut tightened, fury roaring in his ears. “After what she said tonight, she’ll be damn lucky if we let her anywhere near our kids.”
Nadia gave him a long, wry look. “That’s not very realistic, is it?”
“The hell it isn’t,” he growled.
She shook her head sadly. “C’mon, Reid. You and your family are so close, you have keys to one another’s homes. You wouldn’t have the heart to keep your mother away from her own grandchildren.”
“If she can’t love and accept them for who they are,” Reid snarled furiously, “then she doesn’t deserve to see them. There’s no fucking way I’d expose our kids to a grandparent who hates the color of their skin.”
Nadia closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the headrest and rubbed her temple. “I thought my father was bad with all his bigoted views. I honestly thought he was a lost cause. But once he met you, he realized that his preconceived notions were totally wrong, and he welcomed you into the fold. But your mother?” She snorted. “It’s pretty clear that I never stood a chance with her. And that’s really a shame.”
Reid’s gut tightened even more at her wounded tone. “If my mom doesn’t want to accept you, it’s her fucking loss.”
“I know.” Nadia stared glumly out the window. “I was just hoping things would be different.”
“So was I, baby. And you have every right to be hurt, angry and disappointed. But what happened in there doesn’t change a damn thing between us.” Reid caught her hand, lacing their fingers. “I love you, Nadia, and nothing’s ever gonna change that.”
She bit her bottom lip, her expression softening with gratitude as she stared at him. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For speaking up for me. For having my back. You’ll never know just how much that meant to me.”
Reid’s chest tightened. He was a big tough hockey player, but this woman right here could bring him to his knees with nothing more than a few simple words.
He leaned over and gave her a long, deep, powerful kiss that left her trembling.
As she sagged back against her seat, he twisted the key in the ignition and gunned the engine. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Nadia was mostly silent on the way back to the hotel, staring out the window at the passing scenery. He wondered what thoughts were running through her mind. He feared the worst.
When they arrived at the hotel, he surrendered his car to the valet, then cupped Nadia’s elbow in his hand and escorted her into the marble lobby. He saw some of his teammates in the hotel bar, laughing and having drinks with fawning puck bunnies. Across the lobby, Hunter was cozied up on the sofa with a pretty biracial woman in a low-cut dress.
As Reid and Nadia were walking toward the elevator, Hunter glanced up and spotted them. Surprise flickered across his face. He knew Reid had taken Nadia home to meet the parents tonight. He took one look at their gloomy expressions and raised a questioning eyebrow.
Reid just shook his head.
Nadia remained silent during the elevator ride up to the top floor. As they entered the suite, Reid offered to order room service.
“I’m not very hungry,” she said tonelessly. “Get whatever you want.”
He watched her walk off to the bedroom and close the French doors behind her, shutting him out.
Clenching his jaw, he grabbed the room service menu, called the number and ordered a bunch of stuff, selecting items at random. Just as he finished the call, his phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and glared at the screen. It was Avery.
He stabbed the answer button.
“Hey.” His sister’s voice was grim, laced with anger. “Ry told us what Mom said to Nadia. Jesus Christ, Reid. I’m so sorry. What the hell was she thinking?”
“That’s a damn good question,” Reid growled, his anger returning.
“I couldn’t believe she said that crap,” Avery ranted. “I would have thought Ry was playing some sort of sick joke on us if I hadn’t seen you and Nadia before you left. No wonder you couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Reid scowled. “Stop apologizing. You’re not responsible for your mother’s offensive behavior.”
“I know, but I talked to her yesterday. I specifically warned her to be on her best behavior, and she promised she would. God, I could just strangle her right now.” Although Avery was two years younger than Reid, she was as protective over him as he was of her.
“Where’s Nadia?” she asked, sounding concerned.
“In the bedroom.” Reid flicked a glance toward the closed French doors. Nadia had retreated into the bathroom with her phone. He thought he could hear the low murmur of her voice. She was probably talking to Scarlett, telling her how she’d dodged a bullet by finding out his mother was a racist before it was too late.
The thought made him grimace.
“I can only imagine how she must be feeling right now,” Avery commiserated. “Has she said anything?”
“Not much.” To me anyway.
“Shit.” Avery heaved a disgusted breath. “After you guys left, we all gave Mom an earful. Even Aria let her have it, and that’s saying a lot given that she’s been handling Mom with kid gloves for the past four years. It was like an intervention. We let her know how angry and disappointed we were and told her she owed you and Nadia an apology. Then we all got up and walked out on her.” Avery humphed. “Let her stew in her own juices for the night. Maybe she’ll come to her senses and realize just how badly she messed up.”
“I’m not holding my breath.” Reid crossed the suite, opened the balcony door and stepped outside. It was cold as fuck, but he didn’t care. He played ice hockey, so he was used to functioning in frigid temperatures.
“I love Mom, God knows I do,” Avery asserted. “She’s been to hell and back these past few years, suffered in ways no one should ever have to suffer. But you know what? Being a cancer survivor doesn’t give her a pass for behaving like a racist bitch. If anything, getting sick and facing her own mortality should have given her a deeper appreciation for the sanctity of all lives. How she could survive a life-threatening illness and come away with such warped views is beyond me.”
“You and me both,” Reid muttered darkly. The chilly night breeze ruffled his hair as he stood at the balcony rail, staring out at the downtown skyline.
Avery’s heavy sigh filled the phone line. “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around what happened, trying to figure out how we missed the signs that our own mother has racist leanings. And then I started thinking about our childhood and where we grew up. Allen Park is, what, ninety-three percent white? If I’m not mistaken, it was even whiter back in the day. Think about that. We lived in a white neighborhood and attended white schools with only a handful of black kids. You went off to a predominantly white college and then entered the NHL, a league dominated by white players with a mostly white fan base. You’re on the road most of the time, so the majority of women you meet and hook up with are—you guessed it—white.” Avery paused a moment. “If you really think about it, Mom never had to consider the possibility of you meeting and falling in love with a black woman. It simply never crossed her mind. Now that it’s a reality, it’s forcing her to undergo another major paradigm shift. And she’s not handling it as gracefully as she handled being stricken with cancer.”
Reid listened to his sister in silence, his jaw grinding hard.
“You know, I’m not attracted to black guys. They hit on me all the time, but they’re just not my type. But if they were, I’d always assumed our parents would be okay with that. Like, neither of them would have a coronary if I came home with a black boyfriend.” Avery snorted. “Now I know better.”
Reid shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to suppress the seething anger and frustration burning through his veins.
Avery heaved a deep sigh. “Well, anyway, we’re picking Nadia up tomorrow morning and taking her shopping. Some retail therapy might cheer her up.”
“I hope so.” Reid blew out a short breath and shoved a hand into his pocket. “Before I head out tomorrow, I’ll transfer some funds into your account.”
“Why?”
“The shopping trip’s on me.”
“Aww, you’re so sweet,” Avery cooed affectionately. “But you don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. You and Ari have been great this weekend, and I really appreciate it.” Reid smiled wryly. “Besides, treating all of you is the only way Nadia might let me spend money on her.”
Avery laughed. “I know what you mean. She wasn’t too happy about you putting her up in a penthouse suite. If Ari and I hadn’t been there, she probably would have marched down to the front desk and asked to switch rooms.”
Reid smiled. “You’re probably right.”
There was a warm smile in Avery’s voice. “Guess no one can ever accuse that chick of being a gold digger.”
“Not even close.” Reid chuckled. “No matter how much she insists tomorrow, don’t let her pay for her own clothes. I’m counting on you, Av.”
“You got it, Big Spender.” Avery laughed. “Ari sure as hell won’t mind your generosity.”
He grinned. “When has she ever?”
Avery laughed again.
Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Reid glanced over his shoulder just as Nadia stepped out onto the balcony. She was wrapped up in a large wool blanket she must have found in a closet.
He told his sister goodnight, then stuffed the phone into his pocket and stared at Nadia. “Hey.”
She stared back. “Hey.”
His heart thumped as he watched her come slowly toward him, careful not to trip over the long blanket.
When she reached him, he tilted her chin up and brushed his lips over hers.
Her eyes glinted up at him. “You’re cold.”
He smiled. “Then warm me up.”
“With pleasure.” She backed him toward one of the chairs on the balcony. When he sat down, she draped the blanket around his back and then climbed into his lap. He pulled her close to him, wrapping her in the thick folds of the comforter and looping his arms around her.
She put her head on his shoulder, her back resting against his chest as they snuggled together under the blanket, sharing body heat.
He kissed the top of her head. “That’s better.”
She nodded. “Much.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring out at the city’s twinkling lights.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Nadia whispered.
Relief poured through Reid, so intense it left him dizzy. He didn’t realize just how much he’d feared losing her until she spoke those four words.
He gave her a fierce, rib-crushing hug and held her tight until she let out a muffled squeak and told him she couldn’t breathe.
“Sorry.” Grinning, he loosened his hold, but didn’t release her. No way was he ever letting her go. Ever.
“I’m not going to let your mother come between us,” she vowed with quiet resolve. “I won’t lie to you. I was very hurt and angry, so much so that I started having doubts about our relationship, wondering if we could make this work despite your mother’s objections. I thought about suggesting that we take a break to reassess our situation. But then I came to my senses. Your mother’s not the first person to object to our relationship, and she won’t be the last. As long as we love each other and want to be together, everyone else can pretty much go fuck themselves.”
Reid whooped in approval. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
They shared a fist bump that ended with the splayed-finger explosion. Then they laughed and hugged each other long and hard. When Nadia threw the blanket over their heads to keep out the cold, they started kissing and making out like a couple of horny seventh graders until it was time to go inside and eat.