“Stolly will handle it. He’s good with the ladies.”
I scrunched my eyebrows together as I started walking toward the entrance. “She doesn’t need a charmer. She’s got me.”
“And from what I’ve seen, you take good care of yourself, thus her.”
“I try.” I stopped walking and looked up at him. “Wait. Why would you say that?”
Mr. Tall, Icy, and Dangerous grinned, flashing a crooked incisor on the bottom right. It was so incongruous with his debonair suit and styled hair that I melted a little more.
“I saw how you handled yourself with that piece of refuse, so I know you’re more than willing to stand up for yourself and your friends. I’m Maxim. Maxim Dolov.” He paused like that name should mean something to me. When I simply stared up at him, he shook his head. “Guess you’re not a hockey fan?”
He tucked me into his side as we started walking again. Dillon was gone. I closed my eyes and sucked in a slow breath, let it out even slower.
What a night. Maxim Dolov touched my elbow, which sent a shower of tingles up my arm and into my chest.
That had never happened before.
“You play hockey?” I asked, trying to steady my wayward emotions. I took another deep, slow breath. Those really did help regulate my cognitive function, something many of my charges didn’t believe until I managed to work through the exercises with them a few times.
He nodded. “For the Wildcatters.” His chest puffed up a little, unconsciously, as if he took great pride in his team.
“I know little about that sport—just that that’s the city’s NHL team.” Well, now, this sexy man was a professional athlete. Millie would love this turn of events. “My brothers all played football. Or still play. Amos is on the starting line for Texas this year—I mean the university, not the pro team—but he may go pro. At least, that’s what he’s hoping for…I’m blathering. Sorry, I’m nervous.”
I wiggled my fingers, trying to ease the throbbing in my hands. My daddy and brothers never told me that punching a person hurt so much.
Maxim’s gaze swept the room, noting the crowd and the growing cheers. “Nothing to be nervous about, Fists. I’ve seen you fight, remember? You hold your own just fine.”
I clenched and unclenched my hand again, biting my lip as pain shot through my fingers. “About that…”
Maxim raised thick, sandy eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“Well…my hands hurt.”
We were at the door to the restaurant, but Maxim stopped. He grasped my left wrist, smoothing out my fingers with his longer, bigger ones. That same zip of energy snaked up my arm, into my jaw. My lips tingled. He tutted as he noted the swelling.
“We’ll get you some ice.”
He didn’t let go of my wrist, so I walked forward, our fingers intertwined. When he slid his palm against mine, I nearly whimpered at how good it felt.
Too much. He wastoo much. My mind was trying to process Dillon’s appearance, his expectations that I’d drop everything to do his bidding. Had I really been that much of a pushover?
I pulled away. “I should grab Millie and go—”
“On your birthday? After you knocked that loser on his ass? Please, you have big things to celebrate.” Maxim shifted, discomfort flitting across his face as he peered at me. His eyes were ice blue. As I leaned forward, trying to get a better view of the color, so pale in the light, he pulled his head back. His lips pressed into a thin line even as his pupils flared…
With desire.For me. Oh! Oh… A whoosh of awareness settled, warm and pulsing, in my belly.
He cleared his throat. “I mean…if you want to. You don’t have to stay. Am I making you uncomfortable?”
I shook my head, my eyes never leaving his ruggedly attractive face. He was a professional hockey player—a large, take-charge kind of man. For him to be asking me about my feelings…swoon!
“No. You’re charming me.” And I liked it.A lot. This interaction was lovely—so much nicer than the alley interaction with Dillon that left me feeling dirty…a piece of trash he’d discarded again.
Maxim Dolov was doing a delightful job of stroking my ego. Maybe fate had stepped in to show me what I’d been missing in my relationship with Dillon.
Relief swept over his expression. My body hummed with energy. Oh, yeah, I desired him. Maxim Dolov, professional hockey player, washot.
“Excellent. I prefer charming to upsetting such admirable ladies.” He opened the door and ushered me inside.
