Wicked Games (Denver Rebels) (48 page)

He didn’t say a word until they were back inside the car. His jaw was set in a hard line, anger seething from every pore.

After several moments, Nadia reached over and gently stroked his cheek, trying to soothe away the torment. “Forget that reporter,” she said softly. “He’s an asshole, just some jerk trying to make a name for himself.”

“I know,” Reid muttered darkly. “I shouldn’t have let him get under my skin like that.”

Nadia grimaced, shaking her head. “For what it’s worth, I understand why you did. He was way out of line, trying to get a rise out of you.”

“It worked,” Reid growled. “If you hadn’t stopped me, I would have kicked his fucking ass.”

“I know, baby. But hitting him would have given him the reaction he obviously wanted. It also would have traumatized your young fans. It’s one thing to see you kicking ass on the ice. Knocking out reporters? Not a good look.”

“Yeah. I know.” Reid pushed out a deep, ragged breath and then looked at her, a ghost of a smile touching his mouth. “You were great in there.”

She gave a rueful little laugh. “Like I said, I didn’t want you getting arrested for killing that douchebag.”

“I wasn’t talking about that.” His lips quirked. “Although, yeah, you probably did just save me from going to jail.”

She laughed again.

“What I was referring to was the way you interacted with the kids,” Reid went on. “You were really great, Nadia. They loved you.”

She smiled, her cheeks warming. “Not as much as they loved you.”

“Don’t be too sure of that.” He brought her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles and stroked her palm along his face as he stared into her eyes. “I can tell you’re going to make a wonderful mother someday.”

A melting warmth spread through her at his words. “I was thinking the same thing about you, that you’re going to be an amazing father.”

As they gazed at each other, he turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm. She shivered, her lips parting on a shaky breath.

When the reporters and cameramen began emerging from the building, Reid slowly released Nadia’s hand and started the engine.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get some lunch.”

He took her
to a ritzy seafood restaurant on Detroit’s riverfront. They had a cozy table by the window, where they could enjoy breathtaking views of Windsor, Ontario across the glistening river.

“I can’t believe I’m looking at Canada,” Nadia marveled, sipping from a glass of red wine as she stared out the window. “This is so cool.”

Across the table, Reid gave her a lazy smile. “When we come back in the summer, I’ll take you over to Windsor. It’s a pretty city and the weather will be warmer, so we can spend the day sightseeing and sailing.”

Nadia smiled at him. “I’d like that.”

She didn’t know what pleased her more: his lovely suggestion or the way he was making future plans for them, as if there was no doubt in his mind that they would be together.

Their waiter appeared to top off their wine and ask how they were doing. His tone was deferential, and he still wore the same star-struck expression he’d had when they arrived. Nadia wondered how long it would take him to ask for Reid’s autograph.

When he departed, she took another sip of the rich wine that tasted of blackberries and currants. It was the perfect complement to the delicious lunch they’d enjoyed: flaky sea bass with caramelized scallops and a creamy slice of key lime pie for dessert.

Reid was gazing at her, his expression soft and warm. “I’m glad you’re here, Nadia.”

Pleasure spread through her veins. “So am I. I’m having a wonderful time.”

“Good.” He smiled, reaching for his wineglass. “I wish you could come to all my away games.”

“So do I. Then I could keep a close eye on you.”

He looked startled for a moment, the joke catching him off guard.

When she winked, he chuckled softly and brought his glass to his lips, watching her over the rim as he drank his wine.

She smiled. “I’m hanging out with your sisters tomorrow while you’re off doing your game day stuff.”

He nodded. “Avery told me. Sorry I won’t be around most of the day.”

She waved off his apology. “Don’t be sorry. Duty calls.”

He grimaced. “Speaking of which…” He pulled his buzzing phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen.

“Everything okay?” Nadia asked.

“Yeah. Just a sec.”

While he responded to the text message, Nadia sipped her wine and casually glanced around. Although the restaurant boasted an upscale clientele and fancy décor, the atmosphere was warm and relaxed with soft strains of piano music infusing the air with holiday cheer.

Full of good food and the warm glow of wine, Nadia sighed languorously as Reid put his phone away. “I’m taking a nap when we get back to the hotel,” she announced.

“Yeah?” A wicked gleam entered his eyes. “You can take one after we’re done.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Done what?”

He wiggled his brows suggestively.

She laughed. “Seriously, dude? Didn’t you get enough last night and this morning in the shower? I mean, you were almost late to practice trying to score one of your hat tricks.”

He chuckled. “And it would have been worth it.”

She shook her head at him. “You’re insatiable.”

“I thought we already established that.”

She grinned.

He grinned back and winked.

She set her glass down on the table and patted her stomach. “I should have ordered something lighter. I’m gonna be too stuffed to eat tonight, and your mom will be offended.”

“No, she won’t,” Reid said. “Besides, she’s not the one making dinner—her personal chef is. And Maeve’s an excellent cook, so I’m sure you won’t be picking at your food.”

Nadia smiled faintly. “I’m really nervous about meeting your parents tonight,” she confessed.

“Don’t be.”

“I can’t help it. What if they hate me on sight?”

Something flickered in Reid’s eyes, something that sent a frisson of warning down her spine.

She went still, staring at him. “What’s wrong?”

He was toying with his linen napkin, folding it into different configurations. “Nothing.”

He’s lying.

“I don’t believe you,” she told him.

He didn’t respond.

She let a few seconds lapse and realized he was going to make her ask. So she did. “Do your parents have a problem with me?”

He hesitated, then said in a low voice, “They don’t know you.”

She frowned. “That’s not what I asked.”

He lifted his eyes to hers. His gaze was hard and narrow. “I’m not going to let anyone disrespect you.”

A knot of anxiety twisted inside her. His words could only mean one thing. “Do you think someone’s going to disrespect me?”

A muscle clenched in his jaw before his gaze shifted away.

Her heart sank like a stone. She stared at him, her spine stiff with tension. “It’s because I’m black, isn’t it?”

He blew out a frustrated breath. “Nadia—”

“Tell me the truth, Reid. I have a right to know what I’m walking into tonight.”

His lips pressed into a grim line. “My mother’s going through some—”

“Oh my God. You’re
still
dodging my question.” Nadia shook her head in disbelief, feeling hurt and betrayed. “I was honest with you about my father. After he found out we were dating, I told you how he felt about our relationship. You should have given me the same courtesy.”

Reid watched her with a brooding expression. “You’re right. I should have.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t want to come this weekend.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have.” Her angry retort landed on the table like a bomb set to detonate.

They stared at each other, the tense silence throbbing between them.

Without breaking eye contact, Reid tossed his napkin onto his plate, then slid his chair around the table to sit beside her. When his knee brushed hers, heat shot through her veins before she jerked her legs away and averted her gaze. Even when she was mad at him, he could still turn her on with the slightest touch.

“Nadia.” His voice was low and urgent. “Look at me.”

She shook her head, staring blindly out the window. The wintry afternoon sun shimmered on the water, the beautiful view suddenly mocking her.

“Dammit.” Reid pulled her chair around to face him, making her gasp in surprise.

“What—”

He kissed her on the mouth, intently, his big hands framing her face as he whispered fiercely, “I love you.”

Just like that her heart melted, along with her anger. She would never tire of hearing those words from him. “I love you too,” she whispered helplessly.

He held her face between his hands, his eyes boring into hers with searing intensity. “You and me. Me and you. Nothing and no one else matters. You understand, baby? No one else matters but us. Remember that.”

She searched his eyes, then swallowed hard and nodded slowly. “I will.”

But it was easier said than done.

28

S
hortly 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.