Gloves Off: a marriage of convenience hockey romance (Vancouver Storm Book 4)

Three nights in a row, the doctor makes my life a living hell.

“You look like shit,” Owens says at the warm-up skate on the last morning of our away-game stretch.

“Shut up.” It can’t be healthy for a man to have an erection for extended lengths of time like this.

He just grins. “Bad night?”

Three terrible nights. The worst of my life.

I didn’t tell Ward we needed separate rooms, because what if she did sleepwalk into the hall? I’m not worried about her, but I didn’t like that idea.

Three nights in a row, she slept half on top of me, her leg tucked between mine, her head on my chest, her scent in my nose.

Three mornings in a row, I woke up hard but well rested. The deepest sleeps of my life, once I let go and relaxed.

My wife apparently sleeps like the dead, waking up after me each morning. She has no idea about any of this, a thought that gives me a twist of discomfort.

“What’s the matter, Volkov?” Miller asks as he skates past. “The doctor keeping you up late?”

“Yes.” My mind goes to the freckles across her chest, and my mouth waters.

I can’t wait to get home tonight so I can sleep in my own bed—alone.

“Only Volkov would take a good night’s sleep over hooking up with his hot wife,” Walker says, and I glare at him. “What? It’s a good problem to have.”

It’s a problem, all right. It’s a problem that the doctor is the hottest woman I’ve ever seen. It’s a problem that she makes me feel like I’m losing my mind. It’s a problem that I want to bend my wife over the bed and fuck those teasing words and smirks right out of her.

It’s just because she gets under my skin. My body’s confused.

That evening, we exit the plane in Vancouver, and I’ve never been so relieved to get home.

“Get some rest, Volkov.” Miller claps me on the shoulder. “Never seen you so grouchy.”

Beside me, the doctor’s lips turn up.

“Something funny?”

Her eyes go wide with innocence. “Nope. Nothing funny at all.”

She thinks she’s keeping me up because of the lingerie.

When we get to the arrivals area for the team’s private plane, she starts walking toward a car waiting at the curb.

“I already booked a car,” I tell her.

“Good job.” She keeps walking past me. “So did I.”

“Doctor.” I wait, but she’s still walking away. “Georgia,” I call again. She stops, turns, and waits with an expectant look, like I’m inconveniencing her. For fuck’s sake. I lower my voice. “We’re not taking separate cars home.”

“I’m not going home.”

My eyebrows pull down. “You’re going to work now?”

“Don’t worry about it.” She gives me a pretty smile and a wink. “Don’t wait up.”

I don’t know whether it’s the unsettling realization that I sleep better when she’s tucked against me, or the way she’s looking at me like she can’t stand me, or maybe it’s that I can’t stop thinking about fucking her in the position I woke up in this morning.

Or maybe I’m angry at myself for saying she didn’t turn me on when she did.

There are players and staff everywhere, waiting for their own rides. For whatever reason, challenge and determination fire through me.

“Give your husband a kiss goodbye,” I call in front of everyone. “Hellfire.”

Her nostrils flare.

I’m thinking about those little scraps of lace barely covering her, and how fucking delectable her body is. How my body responds to hers with sharp, powerful arousal.

My heart’s in my throat, beating hard, as she stares at me.

“I’ll see you in a couple hours, darling.” A brittle smile forms on her mouth but her eyes are pure rage. “Surely you can wait that long.”

“I can’t.” I set my bag down, straightening up to my full height. “I’m going to miss my wife way too much.”

This is for teasing me with that lingerie, my eyes say. Two can play at this game.

I fucking hate you, her eyes say right back.

Fire burns in her eyes and I feel like smiling. She starts walking toward me with slow, steady steps, and my watch goes off before I silence it.

“Come on, Hellfire. Show me how much you love me.”

She starts to smile, that furious glint still in her gaze, and my pulse stutters.noveldrama

“You sure about this?” she asks quietly. “You sure you want to start this?”

“You started this.” From the outside, it looks like we’re having an intimate conversation. “You said I was a terrible kisser.”

“You are.”

“Worried you’re going to enjoy it like you did at the team dinner?”

She laughs, delicate and amused. “With you? Never.”

“I think you’re worried you’ll like it too much.” With my mouth an inch from her ear, I lower my voice. “I remember how you kissed me back. I think you’re worried you’ll get turned on.”

“I’m worried all your fake teeth will fall out.” She winces. “That would be so humiliating for you.”

What a little chicken. “I’m willing to take that risk.”

“Volkov, this is sad.” Her eyes lift to mine with mock sympathy. “This isn’t going to work, and then you’re going to feel bad about yourself.”

“Keep stalling, Doctor.”

I don’t know why it’s so important that we kiss. I don’t know why I need to win this round so badly. I’m competitive, but not like this.

Never like this. She brings out the worst in me.

“All right.” She flattens a hand to my chest, running her thumb back and forth over the fabric of my T-shirt. My pulse skips. “Don’t freeze up on me again, though.”

Something about her low, teasing voice combined with the look in her eyes makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Competition courses through me and I step close enough so our bodies are touching—her breasts against my chest—and my blood hums with energy.

My pulse pounds as I wrap a hand around the back of her head, sinking my fingers into her soft hair, and her eyes widen as I lower my mouth to hers.

The second our lips touch, I know I’ve lost this round.