Twenty minutes later, I was standing rink side with a 400mm lens and a prayer that Luca Vale wouldn't show up to his own optional practice.
The prayer went unanswered.
He skated onto the ice with five other players, and even from across the rink, I knew it was him. The way he moved, efficient and controlled. The way the other players naturally deferred to his space. Twelve years had changed him, added muscle and height and an edge of authority that hadn't been there before.
But I would have known him anywhere.
I lifted my camera, focusing on the group as they ran drills. Through the viewfinder, I could pretend this was just another assignment. That this was just another team. That this was just another captain who meant nothing to me.
Then Luca turned those blue eyes on me and suddenly I couldn’t swallow air.
He froze mid-stride, nearly causing a collision with the player behind him. Even from this distance, I watched his entire body go rigid. His head tilted slightly, nostrils flaring.
He was scenting me.
Oh God…
My suppressants were fresh. Weren’t they? They were working. Weren’t they? There I was still frozen in place, trying to remember if everything was in working order.
He couldn't possibly...
But Luca's eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my knees weak. His grip tightened on his stick, knuckles going white. One of his teammates called his name but he didn't respond, didn't move, just stared at me like I was a ghost he couldn't quite believe was real.
My Omega instincts flared to life without warning.
Heat pulsed through my body, sharp and sudden. My camera slipped in my grip. The scent that had been carefully suppressed for twelve years pressed against the edges of my control, trying desperately to break free.
Goddamn it, no here, and not now,I thought.
I lowered my camera and turned, heading for the exit with quick, purposeful steps that probably looked like running because that's exactly what I was doing.
"Reina!"
His voice carried across the ice, rough and commanding. The sound of it sent shivers down my spine and made my body respond in ways I'd trained myself to ignore.
I pushed through the door into the corridor, my breath coming faster. Behind me, I heard the slam of the rink door, the sound of skates being kicked off.
He was following me.
My legs carried me down the hallway on instinct, trying to put distance between us. But Luca was faster, always had been, and within seconds I felt his presence behind me.
"Reina, stop."
It wasn't a request.
I stopped, hating myself for it. Hating that some part of me still responded to the command in his voice.
Slowly, I turned to face him.
Luca stood ten feet away, chest heaving, still wearing his practice gear. His dark hair was damp with sweat, his jaw tight. Those ice-blue eyes I remembered were fixed on me with an intensity that felt physical.
"It's you," he said, and his voice cracked slightly on the words. "It's really you."
"Luca," I managed, trying to keep my own voice steady. "I can explain..."
"Explain?" Something dangerous flashed across his face. "You disappeared. Twelve years, Reina. Twelve fucking years and not a single word."
A million little excuses died on my tongue. "I couldn't..."
