Page 66 of Risking the Pucking Defense

“Uh, no. I don’t think so.”

“Shit,” she hisses. “I need it, it’s got all the⁠—”

“Harlow,” someone calls, and when I twist around, I find a member of the hotel staff marching toward her. “We have an issue.”

“I want to go back on maternity leave,” Harlow mutters under her breath, making me laugh. “I might have left it in my hotel room,” she says quickly, digging in her purse before pulling out a keycard. “Please could you⁠—”

“Of course. Which number?”

“Nine-six-nine. Thank you so much. I owe you,” she says before taking off to put out whatever fire has started elsewhere.

Feeling useful, I grip the keycard tighter and take off toward the elevators, but I come to a grinding halt when I turn a corner and find Hayden resting back against a wall with his face tipped toward the ceiling.

“Hayden?” I breathe, rushing closer. “What’s wrong? Are you—” My words die when his eyes find mine, and I discover nothing but endless pain within them. “Shit. Come on,” I say, taking his hand and dragging him behind me.

“I’m okay,” he assures me. “I just needed a moment.”

“Consider this you taking a moment,” I explain, dropping his hand in favor of reaching for the elevator call button.

When I look back, I find him gazing down at his hand like I just burned him.

The elevator dings, announcing its arrival, and I move forward.

“Where, uh…where are you taking me?” he asks, blindly following me into the small space. “I might need another whiskey if it’s your hotel room.”

“What? No. Harlow sent me on a mission to find her missing iPad,” I explain, holding up the keycard.

“So I’m right—you’ve lured me in here to take me up to a hotel room,” he teases, the darkness previously in his eyes replaced by mirth and happiness.

“I guess you could look at it like that,” I muse. “It’s not the way I’d sell it to the media, though.”

His laughter rolls through me, granting me my wish from earlier, and damn it if my nipples don't pucker against the fabric of my dress.

The elevator jolts, and I gasp, reaching for the handrail.

Hayden frowns, seeing my reaction. “You’re not scared of elevators, are you?”

“No. It just startled me, is all,” I explain.

He smiles, as if he heard something very different from the words that spilled from my lips.

“What?” I ask, my heart racing as I stare up at him. Even with my heels, he’s still so much taller than me. And he looks devastatingly handsome in his tux. The way it fits his sculpted body should be illegal. His wide shoulders, solid chest, thick thighs, and if he were to turn around…well, I suspect it’s doing good things for his ass, too.

He doesn’t respond with words; instead, he pushes from the wall and takes a step closer, ensuring the scent of his cologne gets stronger, completely obliterating my senses.

“I put you on edge?”

“What?” I laugh, but it’s nervous as hell, and I kick myself for letting him see through my mask, both physically and metaphorically.

Reaching up, I tug at the ribbon that holds my delicate red mask to my face and pull it free.

“Beautiful,” he breathes, his eyes taking in every inch of my face.

My breath catches a beat before fire licks up my arm when his fingers brush mine.

Oh God.

My mouth runs dry as he steps even closer.