I nodded. The wild applause and the shouts and screams of the crowd were deafening. Following Carly down the steps, I could almost feel the security man’s breath on my neck. I reckoned he’d had pretty strict instructions from Rick to stick close to me.
When we reached the tunnel the press was swarming around the Vipers players, especially Rick. He’d taken off his helmet, his cheeks were flushed and his hair damp and flattened on his head. He looked like a man who’d played edgy and fast and worked hard to win. As he pulled in panting breaths, I couldn’t help but notice how he towered over everyone, his skates adding unnecessary inches to his height and his shoulder pads increasing an already impressive width. Looking into his elated face I once again felt that lovely warm glow around my heart. He was my man, I was his woman. I was still on a total high that we’d found each other and wondered if I would ever get enough of how he made me feel.
“So now you beat the Islanders in the final minute how will you work your team next time you encounter them?” a young reporter asked Rick, shoving the microphone as high as he could and still not reaching Rick’s chin.
“The same as always. Hard,” Rick said, beaming and wiping his forehead on the back of his arm.
“Did you ever think this might not be the Vipers’ year?” asked another reporter, female with a short blonde bob.
Rick shook his head. “Nah, we always have a positive attitude, we always believe we will get the scores we want, that’s what keeps us fighting for it.”
“The Islanders are going to be sorry they conceded that last point,” said an older reporter who I vaguely recognized from TV. “What do you say to them?”
“Their loss is our gain,” Rick said with another, even wider grin.
“Four hundred games as captain. People are wondering how you’ve done it over the years,” the first reporter asked, elbowing his way back through the jostle.
“Clean living,” Rick said with a chuckle.
There was a rumble of accompanying laughter, then, “Tell us what happened yesterday?” the young female reporter asked, aiming her microphone up at Rick. “Rumor has it there was an incident with a fan here at the rink.”
Rick’s smile dropped, his dense brows tugged low and his jaw tightened. He glanced to his right and his gaze settled on me. He sucked in a breath and turned his attention back to the reporter. “Yeah, there was an incident.”
The din of conversation quieted, everyone turned to Rick.
“And is it true there was a gun involved?” The reporter widened her eyes dramatically. “And a shot was fired?”
He pulled off his gloves, which were quickly taken by a hovering equipment manager, and crossed his arms over his huge chest. “Yes,” he said in a steely voice. “But no one was hurt.”
“And is it true the fan was a female obsessed with you? That she’d been sending you letters and gifts for months and you’d had several restraining orders taken out against her?”
Rick’s frown deepened further. “Yes, and she is now thankfully getting the medical help she needs. I wish her well. She is clearly mentally unstable and was delusional about her relationship with me.” He shoved his hand through his hair, causing it to stick up messily. “And while we are on the subject of my personal life, I would just like to say for the record that it will no longer be necessary to include me on any ‘eligible bachelors’ lists.” His gaze sought out mine again.
“Does this mean you’re off the market?” the female reporter asked quickly.
“Yep, I’ve found the woman for me…” He held out his hand and pointed over everyone’s heads. “And she’s right over there.”
Suddenly all eyes were on me. I froze like a deer caught in headlights. Rick was staring straight at me and so was everybody else.
“Dana,” Rick said. “Come over here, baby.”
My legs were lead, my mind whirring. Rick had just made our relationship very public. All I could see were a mass of microphones and a sea of camera lenses angled my way.
“Go on,” Carly said, pushing at the small of my back. “Go to him.”
In a daze I moved forward, people stepping out of my way and cameras following my movements. When I reached Rick, he grinned down, his eyes intense and his skin shiny. There was a trickle of sweat at the angle of his jaw.
“Hi,” he said. “Enjoy the game?”
I nodded.
Rick glanced at one of the cameramen. “You still rolling, Phil?”
The cameraman gave the thumbs-up sign.
Rick grinned then reached forward and grabbed me. Suddenly I was flattened against his big, hard body as his lips took hard possession of mine. I scrabbled for purchase on his stiff shoulder pads as he tipped me backward, lower and lower, my spine arching and my long hair surely skimming the floor.