“Why are there flowers on my list?”
I closed my eyes. “Ignore that. I’ll sort it out.”
I sensed Cora’s frown rather than saw it as she moved back into the room, her footfalls soft on the threadbare carpet. My office was due for an upgrade, but I’d never cared how worn my floor coverings looked or how bare my office seemed. Neither of those things defined a decent coaching session with any of the players under my responsibility.
“Ward. What’s going on? You’ve been unfocused for the last week.” The warmth of another body near me set me on edge. It wasn’t the one I wanted. The only one I wanted.
“I’m fine, Cora. Valentine’s waiting.” Christ, if she didn’t leave now, I’d end up yelling at her, but both she and Hux were right. This year was worse than ever.
It has to stop.
I’m out of control.
But I couldn’t stop. Not until I heard the words from her lips. Words I knew she’d never say because my wife was stubborn like that.
A vision from last year, of blonde hair mussed and knotted behind my gloved fingers. I couldn’t erase the image of her pretty, tear streaked face, her back arched before me as I railed into soft curves I knew as intimately as I understood my own body slammed into me.
I pushed my chair back from my desk, swearing. My knuckles drilled into the hard surface. Pain was an equaliser, bringing me back from the nightmare I lived over and over again. Pure pleasure and utter temptation. Because that was our deal. I could have her—my wife—for a single night, once a year.
Other than that I didn’t touch her. I didn’t see her. Didn’t contact her.
Not until our next anniversary.
Friday.
Four days from today.
“Ward?” Cora’s hand on my arm jerked me out of my reverie.
“Forget the flowers," I repeated harshly. She’d hate them, anyway. “Forget everything, Cora. Spend time with Valentine. You never know how short it is.”
I swallowed hard when Cora didn’t move away or drop her hand. Anyone else would have been scared shitless if I snapped at them. Even the men I trained on the ice, relentless in my personal brand of asshole.
“Tell me how to help,” Cora whispered. “I’ll do anything.”
A snarl built behind my lips that I camped shut. The worst part was that I knew she meant it. I’d seen Cora in action, sacrificing everything, even her own safety, to ensure the team’s survival. It was one of the reasons she and Valentine were suited so well.
“You can’t help. You’re not her.” I reversed her grip on my arm so I held her elbow firmly, and walked her to the door, pushing her into the corridor where Valentine waited, leaning against the opposite wall. “Look after her.” I shut the door in their surprised faces and locked it from the inside.
My next training session wasn't for a few hours, and I had phone calls to make. No, fresh flowers had always been a shitty idea. She’d bin those as soon as they arrived. There were better ways to torment the woman I’d loved since the day I laid eyes on her nearly twelve years ago.
I knew exactly where to start.
CHAPTER TWO
SIA
A stack of files—the club refused to go digital, I swore—sat on my desk, topped with a tiny, black velvet box. I shoved that aside where it toppled unceremoniously behind my keyboard. Ignoring that, I flicked the file open, staring at the first of two new players who Ward would likely bench during the next games.
They’d come through due to injuries mid season. The change out would be noticed by the team, but if he didn’t give them time on the ice thenthatwould be noticed too and with playoffs starting, he’d end up in front of the board. Then Mickey, our CEO, would be up my ass and I’d have to face off with the one man in the building I really. Didn’t. Want. To. Have. To. See.
Before Friday, at least.
I groaned and laid my head on top of the files.
“That bad, huh?” Cora said sympathetically. She placed something else on my desk.
I sniffed without raising my head. “These are my toddler exercises. I’m connecting with my inner child. Did you bring coffee?”
