Page 67 of Ice Devil

“Wow.” He rubbed his jaw. “Constantly aroused.”

“It’s been difficult to walk.”

He clapped me on the arm. “Well, I’d say you’ve fallen in love, which you will argue so there’s only one other thing it could be. She’s your mate. You’ve always been a late bloomer.”

While he burst into laughter, I shook my head, even making a face. When my phone blipped again, I was grateful for the interference.

Without thinking and barely glancing, I picked up my phone, pressing my passcode in.

I’d expected another text telling me she’d landed safely.

Instead, I was faced with a picture and it took me a few seconds to realize what I was looking at.

Sloane.

And she was with another man.

CHAPTER 15

Sloane

“Yes!” I moaned as I watched the replay. “Way to go, Devil.” My devil.

Well, he wasn’t mine, but the texting made it seem as if he was.

The Hellions were on fire, not only making the semifinals, but they stood a chance of winning a third game tonight. If so, only one more to go.

There was no question I was going to the playoffs. Period.

Damn it.

I had to see them play. Oh, the situation was frustrating. Matt had said barely four words to me in days, sending a schedule for me to follow that hadn’t included the Hellions.

However, my question was whether he’d allow me to head to a game where the Portland Hellions were one of the teams. Why?

Because in the days since I provided a rather avant garde article on the world of shifters, Matt had said nothing about it. Not one word. He was a man who enjoyed picking apart a story, acting as if he knew exactly the right way to tweak the piece.

Not that it wasn’t perfect. Of course.

The man was the master of being passive-aggressive.

One day I’d have the sheer joy in telling him to write the damn article himself.

Since I was now certain he was bucking for the editor in chief position, I’d likely struck a chord of irritation.

I had found it fascinating over the last few days how he’d embraced the team. I was no fool. There wasn’t anything the man did in his life that wasn’t with a purpose.

All he’d talked about on the plane had been the Hellions and the brothers. If I didn’t suspect he had an ulterior motive, I would almost think he’d developed a love for the game.

However, I knew the man and his forever increasing desire for power.

Which was why, when he’d appeared at the airport with luggage in hand, I’d had no choice but to tolerate his company, but had remained on edge. I still was. I didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to embrace the reality he was working an angle.

The trip already planned to Boston had coincided with a huge celebration for the newspaper’s parent company.

And I’d been forced to be Matt’s date for the evening. He’d tried to sell the evening to me by alluding to big things to come in the future. He’d even introduced me to all the bigwigs.

I hadn’t been impressed. They’d all appeared pompous good ole boys playing by a different set of rules. The only difference in true rednecks and the men and even one woman sitting in the VIP seats had been the dollars attached to their attire.