Page 19 of Ice Devil

Big Dog.

Now that nickname caught me off guard and I liked it. So did the different inflection in her voice. Was that an invitation to follow her instead of a threat of a restraining order?

Maybe so. Time to test out just how big this dog had become.

Woof.

CHAPTER 5

Sloane

An almost kiss.

When Beck had lowered his head inside the bar, I’d thought for certain he’d planned on kissing me. My first reaction had been to tense, which no one would blame me for since we were strangers. However, my second had been more complicated. I’d come this close to fisting a handful of his shirt and holding him in place while capturing his mouth.

The feeling had been so overwhelming that I’d seen stars. This was so far from my usual behavior. That had been one reason I’d packed up and left.

Complications weren’t on my agenda.

What the hell was I doing?

The man, no matter how sexy and articulate was off limits.

However, wishing he’d followed through with his promise of crushing the jerk in the hallway was fair game. While I’d been certain the guy was nothing but a drunk from the hotel, I had noticed him sitting in the back of the bar watching the group of hockey players. Since he’d been in the bar before my arrival, I hadn’t thought much about it. At least I would keep an eye out for him.

Right now, I wanted to indulge in the tingling sensations caused by my overactive imagination.

Two dirty martinis and my entire personality had changed. I’d suddenly become frisky. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d allowed my guard to fall. Certainly not with an athlete. There were ethics and bias issues that if challenged could destroy my credibility if not my career.

I’d certainly had no intention of allowing even a thought of impropriety to enter my mind. hell, I was lucky I’d survived dating my boss, forced to fight for my standing for two years.

There were a dozen or more reasons to continue pushing Beck away. However, he had come to my defense. Even if I was handling the jerk just fine all by myself. Although I now had the same thought about the guy as Beck.

He’d acted drunk until he hadn’t. The eyes never lied, much like Beck’s showed concern right now. Plus, the jerk’s hold on my arm had been more forceful than any drunk I’d ever experienced. Maybe I was just falling prey to the craziness of the percentage of people still boycotting sports events. Although the arena had more tailgating fans than haters outside, I’d seen a few horrible posters being carried by protestors outside.

At least until the police had calmed them down before fights had broken out. By the time I’d left, the groups had dispersed.

“You’re really going to follow me,” I told him as I looked over my shoulder. “You’re going to remain my shadow.”

“Just call me Lurch.” His attempt at using a monster voice was a pleasant surprise and I burst into laughter.

In fact, he’d allowed me more than one moment of frivolity during the limited time spent with him. Rare indeed. When I stopped, he was suddenly right behind me, his towering body creating a shadow even at night. While walking the grounds of the sprawling hotel and with the adobe casitas positioned on several different knolls with dimly lit walkways separating buildings, a single woman could feel anxious of boogeymen hiding behind the cactus.

Whoever the jerk had been in the hallway of the main building, it had been evident he’d followed me as soon as I’d left the restroom. Maybe having a companion for the remainder of my walk could be considered prudent instead of a blatant overture.

“Alright, Lurch. Since you’re insisting on proving your chivalry, you can walk me to my suite. After that you’ll need to go.”

He took a step closer, flanking my side. My God, the man was huge. And strong. Enough that he’d dragged the jerk off the floor as if lifting a ragdoll.

I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but I’d been impressed and had a few seconds of swooning. I could only imagine how other reporters would react if the little tidbit of information got out.

“Yes, ma’am. I aim to please.” His voice held a different sound than before. When in the locker room and even only minutes before in the bar, his tone had been a dead ringer to any other jock. Always putting on a show. Always trying to prove his worth.

The deep timbre of the man standing beside me was more thoughtful, a quieter representation of the man behind the jersey and big fat stick.

As soon as I had the thought, another laugh slipped free.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.