Playing for Keeps - Book 1

Chapter 11

My sleep is restless and interrupted by confusing nightmares of Cash and Theo, with unwanted appearances from my father and flashes of DENIED letters from Harvard. I blame my sleepless night yesterday and my continued involvement in preparing Cash's statement to the press. I worked late, alone in my office with a very cranky Theo. Cash and I were forced apart while the National Hockey League and the media prepared for the live midnight press release.

Beyond exhausted, I ran on three coffees and emotionally ate everything in sight, including a small tub of peanut butter. By the time the press release started, my stomach hurt, and I had dismissed ten missed calls from my dad. Theo was no longer speaking with me. Cash was withdrawn and silent. And I was a nervous wreck watching him read word for word of what I wrote in front of the cameras, denying our relationship or that he was back on the wagon. The first omission was a flat-out lie; the second, I could only hope to be true.

Rolling out of bed this morning, my mind is a scattered mess. I am irritable and aroused, anticipating the rippling effect of my deal with the blue-eyed devil, Alone with him for the whole weekend.

Pushing my curls out of my face, I tell myself to get a grip; nothing terrible will happen, and I remind myself how I feel about him will not control me.

I am not pathetic.

I can do this.

It's only one weekend.

I let out a large sigh and pulled open my bedroom door. I follow the sound of Lyndsey's giggles and the smell of freshly brewed coffee lingering from the kitchen. My heart swells at the familiar rasp of his voice. I stop dead in my tracks, wondering if I am still dreaming and pinch my skin.

Ouch! It's definitely not a dream.

What is Cash doing here?

My legs feel as shaky as a newborn giraffe, but somehow, they carry me out of the bedroom, through the living room and right to the kitchen. Cash stands next to Lyndsey, sipping coffee.

He wears the sexiest pair of jeans with a thick black belt, extenuating his toned and inviting waistline. My gaze shifts upward to take in his tight white t-shirt, covering every ounce of athletic steel on his torso and arms. When my eyes finally find his face, I try to look beyond the handsome features that take my breath away every time I see him, but I can't.

He is breathtaking.

"Hey," he murmurs, bringing his eyes in line with mine. "Rough night last night, huh?"

"What are you doing here?" I exhale, taking a cautious step backward.

"Sealing the deal." He winks, taking a sip of his coffee. "Our flight leaves in three hours."

"Excuse me?" I round the kitchen island and pour myself a cup of coffee. I lean against the counter and meet his eyes over the rim of my mug. "And where on earth do you think you're taking me?"

"Top secret." He slides past Lyndsey and presses up against me as his hand finds the small of my back. Licks of desire flicker low in my belly, travelling and burning between my thighs from his touch. "Pack your bags, Mittens. I'm collecting my debt, and we're leaving."

I shake my head. "It's Friday morning. Technically, the weekend doesn't start until the business day is done."

"Did you forget that I'm suspended for three games? My weekend starts now." His sexy drawl has my stomach doing this weird flip-floppy thing. It takes me a few seconds to respond.

"And my weekend starts eight hours from now. I was planning on going to work today."

"You worked over twenty-two hours yesterday. I heard Theo tell you last night that you could take today off. A deal is a deal, Mittens."