Teamwork (3 page)

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” he said, one-handedly tugging an iPod and a set of earphones from the front pocket of his flight bag.

“Thank you, very much… Er, would you like a hand with that?” She gestured to the knot his earphone wires were in.

“Nope. I can do it.”

“Yes, yes of course.” She glanced at me, a fast, assessing flick of her eyes.

I knew what was going through her mind. Were we together? Me and Raven. An item, a couple. And if so, what did I have that she didn’t? My ginger hair, passed down through generations of Welsh ancestors, curled around my shoulders in an unruly fashion. And I wasn’t the svelte shape she was; my sweet tooth ensured I had curves, dips and soft spots in what I considered to be all the right places.

She ran her hands over her slim hips, smoothing the blue pencil skirt she wore, and turned her attention back to Raven. “We’re scheduled to take off on time, so if you could just make sure your belt is secure, I won’t have to bother you again.”

“Yep,” Raven replied, making no move to do up his seatbelt and still fiddling with his iPod.

“Would you like me to do it for you? Your seatbelt?” she asked.

“Knock yourself out.”

She leaned over him, fussing and fiddling, lingering as she smoothed out the straps and clicked them over his lap. I swear a rise of color reddened her cheeks as her hands hovered over his fly and she did up the clasp.

“Thanks,” he said when she finally straightened from her task.

“You’re welcome, and anything at all, just ask.”

“Yep, okay.”

She stepped away, but not before giving Raven an over-the-shoulder glance and sweeping her tongue over her lips.

“Does that always happen to you?” I asked when I was sure she was out of hearing range.

“Getting asked for autographs goes with the territory,” he muttered.

I was getting used to the muttering now, it was the way he spoke. “No, well, yes that too, but I mean women throwing themselves at you?”

“She didn’t.”

I watched our hostess, Tara, look our way again, patting down her perfect auburn bob as she did so. She caught me looking and quickly turned away.

“She is
so
into you,” I said with an exasperated sigh.

He looked up from his iPod and caught me with his blacker-than-black stare. “What difference does it make? I’m not into her, in fact I’m not into any woman. They’re more hassle than they’re worth.”

I held his gaze and tugged on my bottom lip with my top teeth. He didn’t scare me and I wasn’t starstruck by his hockey career either. Plus I’d just about had enough of the continuous foul mood. It was rude. “Ah, you’re into guys then? You and Todd must be together? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

His eyes flashed and he pulled his lips back into a snarl. “Don’t talk fucking stupid, I’m not queer. We’re just buddies, teammates.”

I beat down a grin that was trying to crack across my face. His reaction to my tease was hysterical. I could almost see his hackles rising. He had so gone for the bait. “Well, I just wondered because he was with you in the hospital every time I went to see you, and he was so keen to get me to come to Orlando and treat you. I thought there was more between you. Much more, if you know what I mean.”

“Well, you thought fucking wrong, okay. I like women plenty.”

He balled his fist, gripping the thin white lead of his earphones so tight I’d be surprised if they still worked.

“Ah, okay,” I said.

“What does that mean? Ah, okay?”

“It means okay. You like women.”

“Why are you saying it like that?”

“Like what?” I widened my eyes, feigning innocence.

“Like you don’t believe me.”

“I do believe you. I was just wondering how much success you have when you look like you’re about to eat everyone alive most of the time.”

“I have plenty of success, not that it’s any of your business, and I do not look as though I want to eat people alive. People just annoy me, mostly by talking shit.” He shoved one earphone in. The other fell into the gap between our seats. He fumbled for it, reaching and twisting within the confines of his sling.

Easily grabbing it, I passed it into his big hand.

He didn’t say thanks, just tightened his lips and narrowed his eyes, took it, shoved it into his ear and shut his eyes.

Okay, so I’d wound him up. I shouldn’t have. But I just couldn’t help myself. His surly attitude was really grating on me. The long, silent taxi ride to the airport and the stiff uncomfortable way he held himself in the first-class lounge had me wondering what the hell I was doing embarking on a crazy plan to go to Orlando and treat him. The sooner I had some time with the delectable Todd, the better.

I sipped on my champagne, letting the bubbles pop on my tongue and studying Raven, who’d rested back in his seat with his eyes closed. I could faintly hear the beat of the music he was listening to.

When he wasn’t snarling or frowning he was actually handsome. Not in the same way as Todd, who had picture-perfect, all-American good looks. Raven was more striking in a dark, secretive kind of way. He had high, angular cheekbones and a long straight nose, perhaps a little big for his face but it suited him, it looked right. When his lips weren’t mashed together in irritation they were plump and soft and his eyes, now closed, showcased thick black lashes that rested against his caramel-colored skin. Yep, there was no doubt about it, he was a great-looking man, for those who liked the brooding, sulky look. Which I for one definitely didn’t.

* * * * *

“What do you mean you’re overbooked?” My mouth hung open as I stared at the receptionist at the Richmond-Saunders Hotel. “I’ve just traveled across the Atlantic. I need a room. I need to sleep.”

Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. It wasn’t like me to feel emotional over something small, but I was so tired and my body felt so heavy. The trip had been physically exhausting and right now my brain was screaming that sleep was required as a matter of urgency.

“I’m really very sorry, Miss Wrigley, but there’s been a mix-up with our booking system.”

“But I have a reservation. There must be something you can do?”

He gave a sympathetic smile and shook his head. “Under normal circumstances I could have transferred your booking to our sister hotel, The Bentley, which is right across the road, but there’s a pageant in town this week, and I’m afraid they’re fully booked too.”

Rubbing my fingers over my temples, I tried to think logically. This wasn’t the end of the world. I just needed to find somewhere else to stay. “Do you have a list of other hotels that might have availability?” I asked.

“No, I’m afraid not. But if you just let me deal with these people here, I’ll make a few calls for you.” He gestured to a group of women, all very made-up and each towing along a small girl.

“Yes, okay, thanks.” What choice did I have?

The reception lobby was opulent. Only minutes before I’d been admiring it and thinking what a nice base this hotel would be for my few weeks in Orlando. Now it seemed there was no room at the inn and I was homeless.

Flopping into a squidgy armchair, I heard my cell trill to life. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the caller’s name on the screen.
Todd C.

“Hey,” I said, “how are you?”

“Great, sugar, just calling to make sure you got there all right.” His voice was full of lightness and I could almost see him smiling as he spoke. I adored the way he did that.

“Yes, I landed a couple of hours ago.”

“And the hotel? Is your room okay?”

“Mmm, bit of a problem there. They’re fully booked and it seems I’m the one pushed out.”

“What? That can’t be right.”

“I’m afraid so. The receptionist is going to try and sort something out for me in a minute, but I’m not holding out much hope. There is some kind of pageant going on and everywhere is full.”

“Damn.” There was a pause. “I could send you to my apartment but it’s being redecorated while I’m away and I’m sure you don’t want to breathe in all of those fumes. The best thing to do would be to head over to Raven’s.”

“What?”

Is he serious?

“Yeah, he’s got a guest wing. I’ll give him a call and tell him to expect you within the hour.”

“No, really. I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Well, he… I don’t think he likes me very much. He hardly spoke on the journey, just grunted and, to be honest, I think he was glad to see the back of me when we arrived in Orlando. He couldn’t get me in a cab quick enough.”

Todd laughed. “Oh, don’t mind him. I told you, he’s not all bad, just mostly.”

“But—”

“It will be fine, and besides, what choice do you have?”

“I could just head back to the airport and go home.” I was being childish now, I knew I was. But I was so damn tired my mind had fudged.

“Ah Fiona, don’t say that. I’ll be there the day after tomorrow and then we’ll hit the town. You’ll be feeling better by then. A good night’s sleep, that’s all you need.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I rested my head back on the chair and shut my eyes. I was happy just to listen to his deep, drawling voice and let it settle inside me.

“So that’s set then. I’ll call Raven and then text you his address. Go find a cab and head over there. It won’t take more than twenty minutes from where you are if the traffic is light, and of course Fergal will pick up the fare as part of your expenses so get a receipt.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that.”

“So what are you worried about?”

Raven biting my head off, chewing it up and spitting it out—for fun.

“Nothing really. You’re right. A good sleep and I’ll be fine.”

“Of course I’m right. Listen, I have to go. I need to get on the ice.”

“Where are you?”

“Newcastle. It’s pouring with rain and, damn, it’s colder outside than in the rink. And they call this summer in the UK.”

“Yep, that’s what it’s like up north.”

There was a pause, then he spoke again. “Fiona?”

“Yes?”

“I wish I was there to sort this out for you. Really, I’m very sorry about the double-booking at the hotel.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault and you
have
sorted it out for me.”

“Mmm, I guess, but I’m looking forward to getting home, taking you out.”

“I’m looking forward to it too.” A buzz of anticipation sizzled up my spine. The thought of a whole evening with Todd was the perfect antidote for my fractious mood.

“I’ll swing by Raven’s at eight on Friday and pick you up, is that okay?”

“Perfect, see you then.”

The line went dead and I flicked my cell shut. The chair was soft and comfy and my nerves had calmed. All I wanted to do was sleep. Let the noises of the busy hotel fade into the distance and allow the warmth of the sun seeping through the large window at my side warm my bones. I stifled a yawn, let out a long sigh. I would find a cab in a little while.

A piercing scream to my left caused me to jump and flick open my eyes. An angelic-looking child was revving up to a full-blown tantrum—her cheeks bright red, her nose wrinkled like a pig’s and spit gathering around her mouth. Her mother was trying to placate her to no avail.

I pulled my weary bones upright, grabbed hold of my case and wandered into the Florida humidity. My phone beeped to signal a text message. It was from Todd. Raven’s address as promised. He’d added three
x
’s on to the end. I smiled and allowed a porter to open the door of a waiting cab. Two nights, that’s all it was until I saw him. Two nights, easy-peasy. Then I’d be with the hunkiest guy I’d seen in a very long time. Who knew, perhaps I’d even get lucky and spend some time worshiping that divine body of his.

Chapter Three

“Well, I guess this will make it easier for you to do my physical therapy,” Raven said as I stepped through his front door.

He’d changed his t-shirt and his hair hung damp around his shoulders. The scent of soap and spice filtered toward me and made me realize how desperate I was for a shower too.

“I’m really sorry about the hotel mix-up,” I said. “And I do appreciate you letting me stay here.” I’d decided on the way over to change tack with him. Do as my mother always told me. Treat rude, bad-tempered people in a cordial, polite manner and eventually they would see the error of their ways and reciprocate the geniality.

He shrugged his good shoulder, his other one stayed locked in the sling. “Makes no difference, I’ve got the space.”

I glanced around the lavish hallway. An intricate chandelier dangled from the ceiling and cast a shower of crystal prisms over the marble floor. An enormous flight of stairs led upward, the banister a shiny walnut color. Off the hallway were numerous doorways.

“Come in, I’ll show you to the guest wing.”

“Er, yes, thanks.” Who would have thought there was so much money in hockey? I was used to seeing soccer star’s houses featured in glossy magazines, but hockey, really. This was all new to me.

Raven led the way up the stairs, carrying my case in his good arm. I trooped behind him, my gaze locked on his ass. It was a fine ass and was now encased in navy sweats instead of jeans. I could tell it was the perfect amount of pertness and softness. A nice handful.

Tutting
, I turned my attention to several large pieces of abstract artwork. What the hell was I doing admiring his ass? It must be my sleep-deprived brain and thinking of my date with Todd that had my mind wandering down slippery roads of approval. Raven was a misery guts, it was Todd’s ass I really wanted to get my hands on.

“Here you go,” Raven said, setting down my case and pushing open a door. “There is a bedroom, a TV room and a small kitchen. My mother uses it when she comes to stay so there are some of her things around.”

“Great, thanks, but right now all I want to do is sleep.”

“Worst thing you can do.” He shook his head and gave a worried frown.

“What?”

“Sleep. It’s midafternoon. You go to sleep now you’ll never sleep tonight. It will take weeks to break the vicious circle of sleeping in the day.”

I huffed. “But I’m knackered. The only thing I want to do is flop.”

He shrugged again, just the one shoulder. “I know, I feel the same. But have a shower, go for a swim, cook, watch TV, anything for a few hours and then crash once it’s evening.”

He had a point, and I was notoriously bad at coping with jet lag. “Is your shoulder sore?” I asked.

“Nothing I can’t live with.”

“Well, how about we do some of that hydrotherapy I talked about?”

“Seriously?” He pulled his eyebrows low. “Now?”

“I can see it’s stiffening up, and if you sleep all night without doing something with that joint, it will set you back a couple of days.”

He twisted his mouth as if thinking about what I’d said. Then he sighed. “Okay, if that’s what you want to do.”

“It’s what I’m being paid to do,” I said, dragging my case into my suite of rooms. “Give me five minutes and I’ll come find you.”

His gaze roamed over me, from my head to my feet. He said nothing, then turned and walked away, his heavy footsteps fading as he went down the hallway.

I glanced at a floor-to-ceiling mirror just inside the room. I looked a mess, my hair tatty, my makeup smudged and my clothes creased. Hardly the professional look I aimed for. No wonder he’d given me the once-over, probably wondering why I didn’t look like the glamorous air hostess who’d fussed sickeningly over him the entire flight and then had him sign not one, but three copies of
Hockey Today
and pose for a photograph.

* * * * *

My plain black swimsuit was neat and functional. It was what all physiotherapists wore for hydrotherapy. This wasn’t a jaunt on the beach or a lounge around a pool, it was work and so that required a uniform, of sorts.

With my pale-pink robe pulled tight and my acupuncture box under my arm, I wandered back down the huge flight of stairs. I guessed the pool would be at the rear of the house, since Raven had said it was in his backyard.

I came across a gigantic kitchen—black, white and minimalist with a colossal table in the middle. A massive window above the double sink looked out onto a screened area that did indeed surround a pool. A big, vibrant blue pool with a Jacuzzi at one end and an assortment of chairs and loungers set about.

Patio doors had been slid wide open and a hint of chlorine wafted toward me. Each step I took toward them was an effort. My muscles were achingly tired, my bones weak and weary.

Raven sat beneath a red umbrella. He wore black swim shorts and shiny black sunglasses. He’d taken his sling off and his arm rested on his thigh.

“Hi,” I said. “Great pool.”

“Thanks.”

“Can I do the acupuncture first?”

“As long as you’re not so tired you’re going to completely fuck me up.”

“I can one hundred percent promise I will not
fuck
you up.” My lips tightened and I could feel a twitch hammering beneath my left eye, the calming effect of the rejuvenating, aromatherapy shower gel I’d just used evaporating in an instant.

He looked up and cocked his head.

I could have sworn I saw the hint of a smile, but of course I hadn’t, this was a man who didn’t smile.

“Okay. Do your stuff,” he said.

“Turn sideways on the lounger so I can stand behind you then.” I helped myself to a glass of water from a large, ice-packed jug on the table next to him. If he wasn’t going to be polite why should I be? Mum’s theory clearly wasn’t going to work in this case. He was too far gone.

Drinking my water, I studied the animals interwoven on his tattoo as he moved. He’d pulled his hair into a band and his shiny ponytail hung low down his back in a slight “s” wave. “I’ll do some work on your shoulder today but tomorrow, when you’re rested, I’d like to work on your whole spine, rebalance the big nerves that feed your legs. I think it will help.”

“Yep. Whatever.”

I opened my box, tugged on my gloves and began to insert threadlike needles into the same points I had back in Cardiff. My eyes were blurred with tiredness, but I’d done this a thousand times so it was an autopilot task.

“There,” I said, “a few minutes, then I’ll whip them out and get you in the pool.”

“Can I move?”

“Best to sit still really.”

Grunt.

“Why? Do you need something?”

“A drink.”

“You only have to ask.” I poured him a glass of water, stepped around and passed it to him.

He took it with a gruff, “Thanks.”

“I wonder how the game is going in Newcastle,” I said, sitting on the opposite lounger and reaching for my sun protection lotion.

“Vipers will be winning.”

“You reckon?” I undid my robe and let it fall around my hips, squeezed a generous blob of white cream onto my palm and set about rubbing it over my upper arms. The sun was really intense.

“Yeah, we’re one of the best teams in the US. It’s not likely to take much effort beating a small UK team into submission.”

I laughed and poked my fingers beneath the shoulder straps of my swimsuit. I had to ensure I left no part of my delicate, freckle-prone skin unprotected. “I take it you’ve never met a Geordie then?”

“A what?”

“A Geordie, someone from Newcastle. They are as tough as nails, the lot of them.”

He took a long slug of his drink. The ice clinked. I wished I could see his eyes. His dark, featureless shades were unnerving.

“The Vipers are pretty tough too,” he said.

“I don’t doubt it for a second. I’m just saying, it’s not good to get cocky and always presume you’ll win. Pride before a fall and all that.”

He huffed. “Yeah, tell me about it.

“Go on then.”

“What?”

“Tell me about it.” I filled my fingertips with cream and set about slathering my cheeks, throat and collarbones. Poked under the neckline of my swimsuit and coated the swell of my breasts. There was nothing more painful than burned cleavage, I could testify to that after a trip to Thailand several years previously.

He cleared his throat, shifting on his seat. “I don’t understand what you mean, Fiona.”

I glanced up from my task. Hearing him say my name in his rumbling, moody voice had made something unnervingly like sexual interest pop in my belly. “Tell me about your leg,” I said, trying to act casual. “Why you got back on the ice before it was fully recovered.”

“I thought it was.” He shook his head. “Or at least as good as it ever was going to be. I’d had the op, done the physical therapy, taken time off. What more could I do?”

“You should have had more investigations to make sure there wasn’t something else going on.”

“I did, the MRI was clear. It was just me being a complete lightweight with the pain.”

I gathered some cream from the lid and rubbed it onto the bridge of my nose. “I don’t think you’re a lightweight with pain.”

He laughed, but not with humor. “Of course you do. Hell, Fergal had to hire you to help with my damn useless body.”

“But it’s not your fault. Pain is nature’s way of making you take notice of a problem. If you have pain, it needs sorting, otherwise the situation goes from bad to worse.”

“You mean like my leg?”

“Yes, your leg, your shoulder. You need a proper rest, a combination of treatments and you need to stop blaming yourself for getting injured and having discomfort.”

“I don’t blame myself.”

“So who do you blame?”

He sighed and took off his shades. “No one. It’s just complicated, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“Because hockey is my life. Not playing is like having a huge chunk of who I am taken away. I maybe don’t get the glory of scoring points. And generally people just think of me as a chunk of meat opponents have to try and get the puck past, but still, I’m a top defenseman and for that I need my damn body to be in perfect condition. If I don’t have that, what do I have?”

I rubbed cream over the tops of my legs.

“Imagine,” he said, “a sculptor losing his hands or a fighter pilot going blind. Their lives would be over.” He frowned and his eyes narrowed. “What do they say then when people ask what they do for a living?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a hockey player, Fiona. If I can’t play hockey, what the hell am I?
Who
am I?”

There was something in his tone that tugged at my heart. There was more going on with Raven than just his aches and pains. He was a man who saw himself standing on the edge of a cliff, his career teetering, and with that his identity. Which seemed strange really. Given his big, dominant presence, it was hard to believe his confidence could be so shaken with a few muscle and tendon issues. “You must have other things you can do beside skate and hit pucks.”

He sighed. “I did okay at college but I was playing semiprofessionally by the time I graduated so I didn’t put in the effort I should. My career path was set, I just wanted to head out of Arizona and get on with it. I stayed in college to keep everyone else happy.”

“Why did you want to head out of Arizona?”

“It wasn’t that I wanted out of Arizona, or even off the reservation I grew up on. I just wanted to see the world. I had the wanderlust that most teenage boys have, and because of a new, forward thinking head teacher, I’d had access to a rink which ultimately gave me a way to feed that desire for exploring.”

“Hot kind of a place to keep all that ice.” A rink, in the desert. It hardly made sense.

“Yeah, I guess so. Never really thought of it like that even though it was where I spent most of my time.”

“Playing hockey?”

“Yep, I had a knack for hockey, all right. I wasn’t scared of taking hits, I was fast and I always showed up on time. Soon I was on the Phoenix youth team, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

“So did you graduate? Even though you were playing so much?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And what was your best subject at college?”

“History.” He half smiled. “Always fascinated me, especially American history—the civil war, Native Americans, independence.”

“Nothing I know very much about I’m afraid.”

“You should look into it. It’s fascinating.” He paused. “Though maybe more to me than you, since my ancestors are part of that history and I owe it to them to understand their suffering and struggles.”

“Owe it to them. That’s a nice way to look at it.”

“It’s all about respecting elders and those who have gone before. Without them we wouldn’t be here. One day we will be the elders and hopefully, if we live our lives right, will also be respected and remembered.”