Playing to Win(4)

With a self-directed curse, he'd opened a new browser window and typed  "The Women's Hockey Network" into the search field on YouTube.

And there she was, Holly Evans, all big blond hair and big brown eyes  and big, beautiful breasts. In fact, she was damn near perfect...until  she got to the Hockey Hunk of the Month segment.

He wanted to be pissed.

Instead, he was oddly flattered.

Sure, he wasn't wild about the fact she'd used that damned shirtless  picture of him from last month's Sports Illustrated, but after his  on-ice struggles over the last month, he found his battered self-esteem  had sort of appreciated the boost from those pouty, shiny lips of hers.

She'd even managed to make the award about more than his pectorals,  citing his work with his pet charity, Kids on Wheels, and explaining its  focus on providing wheelchairs and wheelchair-friendly sports programs  for kids in need. Hell, she'd even brought up his role as a goodwill  ambassador for ice sledge hockey, a cause near and dear to his heart.

If he wasn't so firmly anti-reporter, he might have approved of the way  she'd so beautifully shifted the focus from the nonsensical to  something that actually mattered. But in the end, what mattered most was  winning, and ogling the pretty reporter wasn't going to help him put  the puck in the net.

Now, Luke stood outside the dressing room, temporarily set aside this  morning so that she could make a mockery of the sport he loved, willing  himself to man up and walk in.

He scratched his chin self-consciously, wishing to hell that he'd  shaved this morning. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of  assuming his decision not to shave had anything to do with her. If he'd  been given any kind of heads-up about being locked in a room with Little  Miss Play-off Beard today, he definitely would've given a big middle  finger to all the doubts she and his teammates had planted about their  loss. But there'd been no warning until just before practice. No doubt  about it, karma was a stone-cold bitch.

With a deep breath, he stepped through the door to find his linemate was just finishing up his interview.

"That was great, Eric." Holly's voice, warm and sexy, called to mind  the drizzle of honey on cream. Luke subconsciously turned toward it.

Goddamn, the woman was gorgeous. She was rocking the painted-on suit  again, but this time the color was the same teal as the stripes and the  cresting wave on the Storm jersey. (A color which, according to the  Women's Hockey Network color chart, indicated a driven personality whose  inner turmoil was often masked by an outward appearance of calm.)

She was sporting mile-high heels, a barely there skirt, plenty of  cleavage and that big, tousled hair that probably felt like a helmet of  straw in real life, but always managed to look kinda sexy on TV. And  yet, now that she wasn't just a caricature on his computer screen, but a  living, breathing woman, smiling and putting the notoriously shy Eric  Jacobs at ease as they finished up their interview, he found himself  wondering what she'd look like in jeans and a T-shirt.

The thought irritated him. He just wanted to get this whole thing over  with so he could concentrate on the important stuff. Like winning hockey  games. He made himself take a step forward. "So I guess that means I'm  up?"

With obvious relief, Jacobs flashed him a thankful smile, said a quick goodbye and fled the scene.

Holly whirled around, tugging at her skirt as though willing more fabric to appear. "Luke! Uh, Mr. Maguire, I-"

"Luke's fine."

They lapsed into an awkward silence.

She bit her lip.

Damn, her mouth is amazing. And he really needed to stop noticing that.                       
       
           


       

He pulled a frustrated hand down his face, cursing inwardly as he  realized his mistake. Satisfaction sparked in those coffee-brown eyes of  hers-he and his day's worth of stubble were busted. But to his  surprise, her dawning smile was more teasing than mocking, and it made  him want to wipe it off her face in a way that would be pleasurable for  them both.

"You guys want to get started, or what?"

The cameraman's sudden intrusion jerked Luke out of a mental image in  which he and Holly were long past "started" and well on their way to  "finished."

What a hypocrite! He kept telling his guys to focus and here he was, distracted by a pretty face.

Except he sensed she was more than that. Something about her ditzy act  wasn't quite right. There was more going on underneath the glossy  surface she presented to the world, he just knew it. He trusted his  instincts-his livelihood depended on them. His shot might be off, but  his gut wasn't. And if Holly Evans had another agenda, she was a danger  to him and his team. Then again, just the sight of her in that outfit  was dangerous.

"What? Yes! Of course, Jay, thanks!" Holly's voice was about an octave  too high and a six-pack of Red Bull too perky. She gave Jay an overly  bright smile and snatched her interview cards from the stool. "Luke, if  you'll take a seat?"

Like a good little soldier, Luke walked over and sat down.

"We'll start with a quick Q and A with just you on camera, and then  I've got a couple of more in-depth questions that we'll shoot with the  two of us on-screen."

"Yeah, sure." He tried to appear casual and nonchalant.

She gave Jay a nod and waited until the little red light on the camera  flicked on and the boom was in place. Then she turned back to Luke,  fixed him with a look of professional interest and got down to business.

"What's the last thing you watched on YouTube?"

The question was like being cross-checked from behind, leaving him  momentarily stunned. No way in hell he was going to admit he spent his  evening re-inflating his ego by watching her call him hot.

"Are you serious?" He'd meant to sound casually mocking, but was afraid  it had come out somewhat closer to defensive. "That's the hard-hitting  lead issue? You've got to have something better than that. What's the  next question?"

She looked flustered by his outburst, and he hated the fact that he  felt badly about it. He should be out on the ice, working on his slap  shot, not in here trying to hide his guilt. She glanced down at her note  card and closed her eyes, just for a second, before opening them and  meeting his gaze. She looked focused, determined and a little defiant,  if he wasn't mistaken. She cleared her throat.

"Boxers or briefs?"

All his composure deserted him. He held up a hand and glanced over at the camera. "Turn that off."

He waited until Jay lowered the boom mic and stepped toward the tripod  before he rounded on the woman who had the singular ability to distract  and frustrate him beyond measure.

"Look, I get that you have a job to do, but what's going on here, it's a  big deal. This team is in the play-offs for the first time in its  five-year history. Not a single player on our roster has ever won a  championship. We've got a chance to do something great."

He took a deep breath and unclenched his fist.

"The problem is, two nights ago we handed Colorado a shutout victory on  a silver platter. This team is now skating on thin ice, and if we're  going to get out of the first round intact, I need my guys focused on  winning hockey games, not talking about their underwear and eyeing your  cleavage. Everyone else thinks you're cute and harmless and charming,  but I don't buy it. So if you're just using us to make a name for  yourself, then you've picked the wrong team. We don't have time for  distractions right now. I'm done here."

With that, Luke stalked away from her. Again.





3

"LUKE! HOW DID it go? I was just going to stop in and get a behind-the-scenes peek at the interviews."

Luke pulled up short at the familiar booming voice. You didn't stalk  past Ron Lougheed, general manager of the Portland Storm, no matter how  frustrated you might be. Besides, this was the perfect opportunity to  bring up his concerns.                       
       
           


       

"Yeah, about that, sir... As team captain, it's my job to make sure  that my guys are centered, that hockey is the top priority. We've been  through a lot this season and now it seems we're finally gelling at the  right time. I'm worried that Holly Evans is a distraction we can't  afford right now."

"Nonsense! Holly Evans and her delightful brand of infotainment is  exactly what the franchise needs in order to make some headway into the  hearts and minds of hockey fans."

Ron Lougheed was a heavyset giant of a man and despite his gregarious  demeanor, everyone in the hockey world knew that when he made up his  mind, there was no changing it.

Still, Luke had to try. "But sir, our time is better spent if we-"