Misconduct (Hot Ice series Book 6) (9 page)

“I mean I just picked you up, threw you on the bed and
fucked you. Sweet cheeks, you really shouldn’t think that’s acceptable.”

I opened my mouth to retort that I’d fucked him, but he cut
me off.

“And to top it all I didn’t even use a damn condom.” He
shook his head. “I was so caught up in it. In you. So damn consumed with the
need to screw, bury deep, let my mind go to that place where only bodies and
pleasure exist.” He paused and when he spoke again his voice had quieted. “I
swear I’ll stand by you if…” He pointed at my belly. “If you know, we made a
little Reed today.”

I stroked my hand over my lower abdomen and he followed my
movements. “We won’t have. I’m on the Pill.”

“Oh.” He glanced up at my face. “Okay.”

“No little Reed to worry about.”

He nodded and stood. “I’m clean, in case you were wondering.
Full screen a couple of weeks ago with the team medic and there’s been no one…”

“Me too.” I looked up into his anxious face. I’d never met anyone
with so much expression in their eyes. I could almost tell what he was
thinking, how he was feeling just by the way he looked at me. He was either
mocking, angry or desirous, there wasn’t much else, but this, this was a new
one. He looked vulnerable in that instant. Despite his talent, his self-assured
attitude, he looked as if he needed something, someone even.

I reached out and took his hand in mine. “I’m going to cook,
I’m starving. Do you want some?”

He rolled his lips in on themselves, closed his eyes for a
few seconds, then said, “Yeah, and then I should go.”

Chapter Nine

 

I didn’t want Dustin to go. That was all I could think as I
was chopping peppers and sweet onions for the risotto. But how could I be
feeling like this, when only hours ago making Dustin leave was my number-one
objective?

Scraping the veggies into a pan, I thought back to our crazy
fuck. Crazy was the best way to describe it. We shouldn’t have done it, gone
for it like that, like a couple of damn animals.

It had been momentously unprofessional of me to get down and
dirty with one of my players. Him too, he’d behaved like a Neanderthal, and to
top it off we’d been completely irresponsible when it came to thinking about a
condom at the necessary moment—we just hadn’t.

I glanced out the large patio doors. They were flung open
and the sound of the waves filtered into the house. Dustin sat on the deck,
staring at the last sliver of sun as it dipped beneath the waterline. His
shadow stretched out behind him and I knew he’d have the same grim look on his
face that he’d had since we’d…

Damn. What a fucking mess.

I added rice and stock, stirred in a few herbs and then set
the pan on simmer. Reaching for the fish, I quickly slipped the two sea bass
fillets under the grill. It was one of my favorites. I hoped Dustin liked it
too.

While the meal cooked, I slipped into my room. Brushed my
hair and pulled on a sweater. I knew from experience once the sun went the
temperature dropped.

“Here you go,” I said, stepping onto the deck and carrying a
tray holding dinner and two bottles of beer. That seemed to be his drink of
choice so I’d stick with it. Safe option.

He looked up at me. For a moment it was as if he’d forgotten
I was even there, in the villa. It seemed as though his mind was a million
miles away.

“I hope you like fish,” I said, setting the meal down.

“I eat pretty much anything.” He shifted his chair ’round so
he could use the table.

I sat next to him rather than opposite, wanting to see the
waves and watch the moon round the mountain. His cologne hit me again, mixing
with the scent of the lilies that were in full bloom in large pots.

Despite the knots in my stomach, I was hungry and tucked
into the meal. Dustin devoured his as though he’d never been fed before. He
used his knife and fork quickly, and ate in a functional manner, barely
savoring the flavors it seemed, just shoveling it in.

Like I’d previously thought. Peel back the layers and he was
pure Neanderthal.

The sounds of the cutlery and the skim of the sea on the
sand were the only noises while we both demolished our meals. Eventually,
plates empty, we sat in silence. But my thoughts were tumbling, the silence
giving them permission to be loud. Clattering around my head like rocks
tumbling down a mountainside.

Where would he go? The hotel was full and he couldn’t get
off the island tonight. There were no flights or ferries. What if some of the
mugger’s accomplices had seen the direction we’d walked in and decided to
follow? What if they wanted revenge? Or to steal more from me?

No, that was a silly thought that stemmed only from the
fright of the mugging. I’d been alone at the villa many times and never given
security a moment’s worry.

My brain jogged along a different path of anxiety.

Had Dustin hated fucking me so much that now he couldn’t
stand to be around me? Was that why he wanted to go? He couldn’t even bear to
look at me? Was he so ashamed, so full of regret?

Well, if that was the case, good. I’d hated fucking him too.

I sighed.

That was a lie. I hadn’t. It had been off-the-scale sexy. I
couldn’t remember ever feeling so caught up in a moment, so acutely focused on
finding satisfaction in the quickest way possible.

“I should head off,” he said.

I realized my sigh had been rather loud.

“Where will you go?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”

“You don’t have to. You could stay here.” I drained the last
of my beer. “There’s plenty of room in this inn.”

He laughed but not with humor. “You a masochist or
something?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, whatever the fuck that was, between us,” he nodded
behind himself, at the bed, “it was a major fucking disaster.”

Well, that put me in my place. Now I knew where I stood—in
the disaster zone. “But it’s done now. Like you said, a one-time-only thing.” I
shrugged, going for nonchalant. “We’ve got it out of our system. It won’t
happen again.” I pulled down my mouth, as if the whole thing had not been to my
taste either. Though of course that wasn’t true, it had been right up my dirty
street.

“Is that what you want?” He leaned forward and folded his
arms on the table, twisted his head to study me. Shadows slanted across his
face, making the bump on his nose more noticeable as well as the indent on his
bottom lip where the scar slashed across it.

“Yes. It’s ridiculous to think there could ever be anything
between us,” I said, also folding my arms but leaning back in my chair instead
of forward.

“I agree.”

“Good.”

“You’re not even the sort of woman I go for,” he said.

“And I already told you you’re not my kind of guy.” I thought
of Henri, suave and sophisticated with his sexy accent, smooth skin and
carefully tailored clothes. Dustin was the exact opposite with his
rough-and-ready style. Well, it wasn’t even a style, he just…was. He had an
absolute lack of vanity, an obvious disinterest in fashion and I wouldn’t be
surprised if he just kept his hair that short so he didn’t have to worry about
brushing it.

He stood, wandered into the kitchen and left me looking at
the craters on the full moon. Dad had used to tell me to look for a face in the
pits and valleys. I could when I was a kid. Tonight though, I struggled to
determine any features. I guess I was finally growing up. It did that, money
worries.

Dustin reappeared with two more bottles of beer in his
hands.

“Here,” he said, setting one down in front of me. “It’s been
quite a fucking day.” He struck a match and lit the citronella candle in the
center of the table. “I will stay, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, I said you could.” I watched the flame rise upward
and a hazy glow spread over our empty plates. I was relieved that he wasn’t
still planning on leaving, tonight at least.

He sat and once again leaned forward. This time the shadows
on his face were golden. “So now we’ve decided that we’ve scratched the itch to
screw each other stupid,” he said, “and we’ve established that it isn’t gonna
happen again, do you think you could tell me what the fuck is going on with the
team?”

“What do you mean?”

“Back there.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the
beach. “You said something about the mess you’d inherited.”

I clamped my lips together. The team’s finances had been the
furthest thing from my mind the last few hours and I’d enjoyed the reprieve
from worry. Besides, what was it to do with him?

“Of course you don’t have to tell me squat,” he said,
“though it might just help, you know, a problem halved and all that.”

“I really need to speak to my father about it all first. I
think he’s had his eye off the ball this last six months. I don’t know if he
had a grand plan or if it was just rolling along like a runaway train.”

He took a sip of his drink. There was a small
popping
sound as he removed the bottle from his lips. “You know something,” he said.
“I’m not as dumb as you think.”

“I never said you were.”

“You don’t have to say it, sweet cheeks, it’s the way you
speak to me in the locker room and how you look at me whenever I mention the
contract. You think I have nothing but cold air between my ears.”

“No, not at all.” I’d never thought that. Dustin was witty,
sharp and had never given me the impression that he was anything other than
fully switched on.

“You know my parents are both lawyers,” he said. “Until I
won a scholarship for the Academy, going into law was my first career choice.”

“Really?” I struggled to keep the surprise from my voice. I
just couldn’t imagine him in a suit marching in front of jury. I was sure he’d
be slung out for cursing, or spitting or throwing a woman over his shoulder and
marching off to give her a good seeing to.

“Ha, that shocked you,” he said with a huff.

“No, not really. You would have made a great lawyer.” I
wasn’t sure how sincere I’d sounded.

“Nah, I’d have been shit, I just needed to be on the ice. I
was hooked and wanted it to be my life. Luckily my parents saw that pretty
early on and stopped hassling me. Worked out okay though, in the end.” He
paused. “Well, up until this point it has. Right now it’s kinda going to the
dogs. Vipers were all I ever wanted, that’s the team I’ve been busting my balls
off for years to goaltend for.”

I watched as he peeled the corner of the label on his
bottle, his big fingers poking agitatedly at it.

“And the money,” he said, “It’s fucking nice, yeah, but, it
isn’t the be-all and end-all. And I’ve been wise with investments. I haven’t
pissed it all away. Some of it, sure, I like to party, hang out with the guys,
but it isn’t like that if I’m in Austria or training. Then I’m head down,
working, focused.” He ripped the label off completely and flattened it on the
table with his palm. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” I studied his fingernails. They were short and
square, so different from my neatly shaped ones that were painted with MAC’s
Confectionary polish.

“It’s money, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“It’s the finances. The Vipers. Your dad left it in a bad
way. That’s the whole issue, isn’t it?”

I reached for my beer. Took a long slug and then licked the
drop left behind on my top lip.

He was watching me. “You’ve inherited a financial mess,” he
said, “and it’s up to you to sort out.”

“Do you understand about confidentiality?” I asked quietly.

“You mean like am I gonna tell the guys I’ve fucked boss
lady? No way. Confidential information. I get that.” He huffed.

“Yes, absolutely. No one must ever know what we did.” I
suppressed a shudder at the thought of Dustin telling Brick, Phoenix and Ramrod
about me in the locker room and having a great guffaw as he did so. Vadmir
slapping him on the back, Raven touching knuckles and Mike trying to laugh
along but wondering how I could have stooped so low.

He reached over and rested his hand on mine. “I promise,
sweet cheeks, no one will ever find out about what happened on that bed, not
from me anyway. And I can’t imagine you want a newsflash either. I think we’d
both by embarrassed to hell and back if that dirty snippet got out.”

“Yes. That
dirty snippet
,
slip from sense
,
whatever you want to call it, stays strictly between us.”

“Goes without saying.” He squeezed my hand.

“As if it never even happened.”

“Never happened. I may act like a caveman but I know when to
keep my mouth shut.” He lifted his hand and made a zipper movement across his
lips.

“Good.”

An owl hooted in the distance. The sound, like so many
things here, transported me back to my childhood. I thought of Dad again. Hoped
his tests had gone well and Giselle was looking after him. Not wearing him out.

I wasn’t sure how to start the Vipers’ bank balance
conversation with him when he got back to the island. Had he known what was
going on? That more money had been going out in the last six months than coming
in? He must have, he was an on-the-ball businessman, a millionaire many times
over. But perhaps the oversight had been a symptom of him becoming unwell. Not
paying attention when he should have been.

Shit. Yes. What if he didn’t know anything and when I spoke
to him that knowledge made him ill again, when he was on the road to recovery
and doing so well? I’d feel terrible, like the worst daughter ever when in
actual fact I was trying to stand up and do the right thing. Look after the
family’s interest.

“Jesus, you look like you have the weight of that fucking
moon up there on your shoulders,” Dustin said. “Is it really that bad?”

I sighed. What the hell. “Are you
really
good at
keeping your mouth zipped?”

He pressed his lips tight and nodded.

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad. Certainly not good anyway.”

“Why, what’s happened?’

“Simple math. The income from the arena, you know, tickets,
broadcasting rights and merchandise isn’t enough for the bills. The team is in
the red.”

He was quiet for a moment, then, “And you’re looking for
ways to cut the monthly housekeeping.”

“That’s putting it simply, yes. I need to tighten my purse
strings, not be as frivolous as Dad has been of late.”

“But attendance is good?”

“Yes, sellouts aren’t uncommon.”

“How about—”

“I’ve already looked into making money by hiring the arena
out when the Vipers aren’t using it, and getting some off-season attractions in
place to bump up the bank balance. But I still need to do more.”

He sat back, folded his arms.

I couldn’t help but glance at his biceps bulging around his
t-shirt. I remembered how they’d felt when I’d gripped them earlier, as he’d
sunk deep inside me and groaned in a deliciously carnal way. Had I left marks
on his skin with my nails? I couldn’t quite see in this dim light.

“That’s what all of this is about, isn’t it?” He shook his
head.

“What?”

For a moment he was silent, then, “You know damn well what.”
His voice was suddenly gruff.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do. Me. It’s money, it’s my three-year contract
and how much that’s going to cost. That’s the problem.” He paused and rubbed
his left temple. “Fucking hell. Maybe I’m not so bright. Took me long enough.”

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