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“He’s going to fall.” She raced around the island and scooped up the toddler before her prediction proved true.
Troy shrieked and struck out blindly with one bony fist.
The swing packed quite a punch and only instincts honed by being the only girl with four brothers saved her from a black eye.
“Wow. He is your kid, isn’t he?”
The scowl on Max’s face turned sharp and mean. “I don’t hit women.”
No. She had to admit that was one thing he’d never been accused of, and for all their differences she’d never felt physically threatened by him.
“No, but you do have a temper and you do strike out. What did you do to him?” she challenged.
“Not a damn thing. I wouldn’t have let him fall,” Max stated. “He’s mad because he got woken up. He screams when he’s tired or in a temper.”
“Lovely.” The boy struggled in her arms, but she murmured to him as she made her way to the sink. “Where are your glasses?”
Max pointed to a cupboard.
Filling a tumbler half-full, she offered the cup to Troy. He stopped fighting to grab the glass in two hands and drink. Finally he pushed the cup back at her and, breath hitching, demanded, “Donna!”
“Mama went bye-bye,” she told him, “but Daddy’s here.”
“He said Donna. She’s his grandmother, the one who’s in Las Vegas.”
Troy looked at Max, his lower lip trembled and he started to scream again. Her ears rang from the high-pitched cries.
“How long will this go on? Someone’s likely to call the cops.” Her boss would love that.
“Nah. The house is soundproofed.”
At her bemused response, he elaborated. “I bought it that way. It cuts down on the freeway noise. And I’ve seen him scream like that for an hour. I’ve tried everything I can think of to stop him, but the truth is nothing has worked.”
“What about his mother? Do you think you can find her?” She hummed softly and rocked gently back and forth, hoping the soothing actions would penetrate the boy’s distress.
“Her cell is off. I left a message but if she didn’t answer her friend’s calls, she doesn’t want to be found. Probably off with some sugar daddy. I also tagged his grandmother. Donna is the one who usually watches him. I’m sure I’ll hear from her in the morning.”
“Does this happen often?” How could a mother leave her kid with someone and not come home?
“A few times.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
An icy blue glare, sharp as his skate blades, cut her short.
“Right.” She held out a hand. “Let me see your phone.”
“Why?” He reached into his back pocket for his cell.
“I’m going to get the babysitter’s name.” She exchanged Troy for the phone and walked into the living room to make the call. She quickly accessed his call records and hit the call-back key.
A few minutes later she returned to the kitchen where Max leaned against the refrigerator and Troy sat in the middle of the island. Definitely not a happy duo.
“You owe Candi Evans a hundred dollars.” She handed him his phone. “I’ll email you her address.”
“Was that necessary?”
“Yes. She wouldn’t give me her name until I told her you wanted to express your appreciation for her bringing Troy to you. A hundred should do it.”
“And we needed her data why?”
“You never know. But now we have it if we need it.”
“For a hundred bucks.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Listen, can you watch him for a few minutes?”
“You’re kidding me.” The man had nerve. “I have to be up in two hours. You’ll probably roll out of bed around three this afternoon.”
“Come on,” he cajoled her. “Just long enough for me to take a shower. I want to wash the stink of the jail off.”
She sighed, unable to begrudge him a shower. “Okay. You have ten minutes, then I’m out of here.”
He grinned, flashing his famous dimple, and chucked her under the chin. “You’re a peach, Ellie.”
She swatted his hand away with a glower, her bad mood made worse at her automatic response to that sexy dimple. Something about that indentation made her knees weak. “Don’t call me Ellie.”
But she was talking to his back as he loped for the stairs. Mmm. He was grace in motion.
Annoyed she’d noticed, she turned her attention to the two-year-old. “Sorry to tell you this, kid, but your dad is a jerk.”
“Jerk,” Troy echoed, making Elle cringe. Exactly what she needed, for Max, The Beast, to complain to her boss that she was teaching his kid to call him a jerk. Even if he was one.
Thinking of her boss, she moved to the living room and set Troy down next to her on the gray leather couch. A formal room done in classic shades of black, gray and silver, its shining central jewel was the large, mirror-polished black grand piano. For show, no doubt.
“Nice, but I just can’t visualize The Beast playing ‘Chopsticks.’” Not many sports stars were into classical music. Not in her experience. Which was one reason why she didn’t date sports enthusiasts, especially sports stars. To get where they were meant devoting their lives to the sport. She wanted more from life than the next win.
Digging out her phone, she texted Ray Dumond about the events of the night.
Troy slid off the couch and began flipping through a magazine on the table-size ottoman. He crumpled pages and ripped a few here and there, but it kept him occupied and he wasn’t screaming so she let him play. He looked up and grinned and she just wanted to pick him up and hug him.
Oh, no. She hardened her heart against the sweetness of his smile. No getting attached to the little beastie. Her time in his life was definitely temporary.
But she did feel for the little guy. She took such joy from her young niece and nephews that it hurt her to think of any child suffering. And neither of Troy’s parents were exactly winners in her eyes.
Her phone rang. Her boss. That was quick. She hadn’t expected to hear from him for a couple of hours. She answered and filled in the details he asked for. They worked out a strategy for the morning, then disconnected.
She yawned and blinked, really wishing she had time to get in at least an hour’s sleep before hitting the office at a run. A glance at her watch showed it had been twenty minutes since Max had trotted off to the shower. That was it. She’d done all she had time for tonight.
“Come on, kid.” She swooped up Troy and headed for the stairs. “I hope Daddy’s decent because ready or not, here you come.”
On the upper landing she listened for the shower but heard nothing. Turning left she walked down the hall, looking in doors until she found the master suite. And found Max sprawled facedown on a king-size bed.
Just wonderful. Thankfully he’d pulled on a pair of knit boxers, which saved her modesty if not his. The soft fabric clinging to his taut backside did little to disguise his assets.
Her gaze rolled over his long, muscular frame as she carried Troy to the bed. For all his sins, the man had one fine body. The problem was he knew it, and used it. Luckily, she was immune.
She’d never been attracted to Neanderthals.
Okay, that was a lie. Sometimes she just wanted to shimmy up that hard body and sink her teeth into his lower lip.
And then he’d open his mouth and save her from herself. Thank goodness.
Plus she’d learned her lesson where he was concerned.
It killed her that she found him so attractive. Especially as she’d vowed to find a man with more going on in his life than a love of sports.
She knew people thought her a tad unyielding when it came to her stance on men and sports. They didn’t understand. Not even her own family understood. She’d had a good childhood, had been, and still was, well loved. But she’d been a girlie girl in a household of athletes.
From the stroller on, she’d been dragged from one brother’s sporting event to another, often going to two games in the same day. Sure she enjoyed a good game, but she also wanted to learn how to cook, to paint, to play the drums and go to dance class. She liked to shop and get her nails done. She longed for conversation that didn’t include a play-by-play of game highlights.
She’d spent too many years sacrificing her desires to the demand of the majority to easily surrender her future to the overwhelming call of the game.
So, no jocks for her. She wanted, she deserved, a man with varied interests, a man who enjoyed the symphony or the opera, who liked to read and go to the theater, who liked to hike and wasn’t afraid of the mall.
Finding one was the problem.
Pulling her gaze from the father, she turned back the covers and tucked the son into the bed as best she could, considering Max was on the outside of the brown comforter.
Troy looked at her with big blue eyes. “Donna?”
Her heart broke a little for the tiny fellow. She smoothed the sheet over his chest.
“Donna and Mama went bye-bye. You’re going night-night with Daddy.”
“Don’t wan’ Daddy. Wan’ Donna.”
Elle didn’t blame him. Was there anyone less qualified to raise a child than Max Beasley?
Knowing nothing of the kind, she said, “I’m sure they’ll be back soon. If you go to sleep, Mama might even be here when you wake up.”
“Night-night?”
“Yes, close your eyes and everything will be better tomorrow.” At least she hoped so. The kid deserved better from both his parents.
He nodded and closed his eyes.
Elle bit her lip. Poor little guy. Because she couldn’t help herself, she kissed him lightly on the forehead before rising to her feet. She only moved two steps before he popped up.
“You stay,” Troy demanded.
“No.” She shook her head. “Daddy’s here. I have to go home now.”
“Daddy seeping.” His eyes watered and distress tightened his features. “You stay!”
“It’s okay, sweetie,” she tried to soothe him, “Daddy’s here with you. I have to go to work.”
“No. You stay.” He threw himself back on the bed and started screaming.
“Fudge sticks.” Elle hurried back to the bed. “Troy, stop that now. Daddy’s sleeping.”
The boy turned his back to her and continued to screech at the top of his lungs. Goodness. She’d heard fire trucks less shrill. Elle waited for Max to wake up, but he slept on, obviously out for the count. Unbelievable.
The kid was turning red. She panicked a little; she couldn’t just let him scream himself to sleep.
“Troy, enough. Come here.” She lifted him into her arms and rocked him gently. He weighed next to nothing but he was strong. At first he fought her, but after a few minutes he relaxed against her shoulder.
When she thought he was sleeping, she tried to put him back in the bed. He woke and frantically shook his head, clinging to her. Resigned to staying until he slept peacefully, she carried him down the hall and found his nursery. As soon as she stepped inside, he began to scream.
She immediately backed out of the room and the screaming stopped.
“Okay, that’s really getting old,” she told the boy, her nerves frazzled around the edges. “I’m doing my best here. So no more screaming.”
He patted her cheek, and she knew she was being played by a two-year-old. And then he wrapped his little arms around her neck and whispered, “I miss Donna.”
His grandmother, not his mother. Any subconscious sympathy for Amber disappeared. Her neglect of her child went way beyond these missing hours and bordered on the criminal.
The faces of her young niece and nephews rolled across her mind’s eye. She was such a softy when it came to kids she couldn’t just stand by and let Troy suffer.
Okay, all right; Elle stopped fighting her aggravation with the situation and decided to do everything she could to help Troy. If that meant working with Max, she’d do it. But from what she could see, putting Troy in Max’s care only moved him from one mostly absent parent to another mostly absent parent.
Troy deserved a happy home with people committed to his emotional and physical welfare.
Which meant Elle had some hard questions for Max. If he couldn’t give Troy what he needed, maybe they’d have to redirect their efforts.
Determined to get the kid settled, she made her way to a guest room and lay down with him.
He immediately slipped from the bed and pulled on her hand. “Daddy.”
Now he wanted Daddy? Feeling a bit like a yo-yo she allowed him to drag her back to the master suite, where she eyed Max with evil intent. Wake up and take care of your kid already.
Digging deep for patience and channeling her new resolve, she tucked Troy back into bed beside his father and sat on the edge of the mattress, prepared to wait until the boy fell asleep.
He smiled at her and pushed the blanket aside. “Night-night.”
He wanted her to lie down? With him and The Beast? So not a good idea. But she was exhausted and a glance at the clock on the nightstand told her this was her only chance of getting any more rest before work. She set her cell alarm for forty minutes and stretched out on the very edge of the bed.
Troy scooted close and within minutes his little body went lax in sleep. Elle considered leaving, but couldn’t get her eyes to open. The corner of her mouth twitched. The kid had gotten her into bed on their first meeting.
And she was in bed with The Beast. Nobody could ever know. Least of all Max.
It was her last thought before she drifted away.
* * *
A kick to the gut woke Max. Instantly alert, he powered up onto his arms and flipped over, ready to fight. A hard lesson learned from his time on the streets.
But it was only Troy turned sideways in the bed and reaching for more territory. That didn’t surprise him as the memory of last night flooded in.
Now, seeing the ever-efficient Ms. Austin also sharing his bed, that caused a brow to rise. And other body parts, too.
Long and lush with a waterfall of vibrant red hair, the woman made him want. Too bad she had the personality of a piranha.
Had he imagined her in his bed? Hell yeah. Had almost gotten her there last year at the Gala before he came to his senses. He’d love getting tangled up in those long, pretty legs, but getting entangled in a relationship? That was a no-go. And she had picket fence written all over her.
The idea of a street rat like him with Daddy’s little princess was ludicrous. The sex might be great but he had nothing more to offer her. Money and fame didn’t keep a couple together; he’d seen that often enough in the league. Seriously, what would they talk about?
What the hell? Since when did he worry about conversation with a woman? Never.
Which only served to show he was in a weird place.
He sat up on the side of the bed, scrubbed both hands over his face. And then he looked at Troy. His son.
Max had been on his own forever. The truth was hockey fit him to a T because he didn’t play well with others. What he contemplated was insane. No, it was beyond insane.
He was leery of letting a woman into his life. At least he’d know what to do with Elle if he gave in to that insanity. But taking on Troy? He’d barely survived bottles and changing diapers.
But he’d made up his mind. He was going to bring Troy to live with him.
Amber had messed up for the last time.
He glanced at the clock. Saw it was close to six. No doubt Elle would want him to wake her, send her off to work. But the sight of Troy sprawled out sound asleep between them decided him against that course. He wasn’t risking waking the kid.
But he did need to make plans for more permanent arrangements. The kid had responded to Elle last night, calming from his screaming jag much more quickly than he ever did for Max. That was recommendation enough for him. Reaching for his phone, he stepped out of the room and made a call to the Director of Public Relations.
Quickly laying out his problem, he asked for Elle’s help for the morning.
“I need her here,” Ray Dumond stated. “The Jaden issue requires immediate attention. Damn, Max, couldn’t you exert a little control?”
“I was under perfect control.”
“You know what I mean. The men listen to you.”
“Jaden was already buzzing when we got there. He was reminded of the rules. There wasn’t much more I could do except guard his back.”
“That’s something, I guess. No one was seriously hurt?” Dumond showed concern for the first time.
“We take a bigger beating on the ice. Ray, I need Elle for a few hours. And then I need your help. I’m going to claim custody of my son.”
“You already have custody of Troy. You made sure of that as soon as you had confirmation he was yours,” Ray reminded him. “I’ve never understood why you pay that witch when you don’t have to.”
“Because she’s his mother. Because I don’t know anything about raising a kid. Because I’m always on the road.” Because he’d thought she had to be a better bet than he was, but this latest stunt had proved him wrong.
This wasn’t the first time she’d left Troy with someone and not bothered to show when she said she would. But it would be the last. He’d warned her what would happen if she left Troy at risk again. Leaving him with a stranger was the last straw.
“He barely knows me, Ray. It’s my fault,” Max confessed. “I should have tried harder.” Amber had caught him in the oldest trap known to man. And he admitted he’d been resentful. Unfortunately Troy was the one to suffer. But that ended now.
“Ray, I need help. It doesn’t have to be Elle.” In fact, he preferred almost anyone else. “Maybe that new girl, Jenna, can help me. I have the minimal setup for him here, most of which he’s outgrown. I need to find a nanny. And it won’t take long for the press to get wind of this. You know Amber will make trouble. We need to be prepared.”
“You’re right about that. It would have been bad if this woman took Troy to the police.” Ray’s knowledge confirmed Elle had already filled him in on the events of the night before. “Okay, I’ll give you someone to help, but you owe me a player event for this, no skipping out on the Gala this year. And I want something from you for the auction. And you were right the first time. Elle is the best one for the job. Let me talk to her.”
Max stepped back to view Elle asleep in his bed. How perverse of him to take delight in her presence there. And how appalled she’d be if she were awake for this conversation.
She really was lovely. When she was asleep.
“She’s lying down with Troy and we just got him to sleep. Can I have her call you later?”
“Yeah. Listen, I need to know how bad this could get. People expect hockey players to be rough, they’ll forgive a little wildness. As long as no innocents are hurt. Tell me straight, Max, what’s the worst Amber could say? Any kink, any slaps, we need to know now so we can protect you and the team.”
“Ray, what’s with you and Elle? Is that what you really think of me?”
“Max.” Ray sounded weary now. “I’ve been around too long not to ask the questions. Be happy I’ll believe what you tell me.”
“Why does the world care what I do in bed? Why can’t I just play hockey?”
“You can, but you won’t get eight million dollars for it. Celebrity is a part of the entertainment package you signed on for. Now, do I have anything to worry about?”
Max bit off a curse and spilled his guts. “Kink is relative, isn’t it? We had a good time but there were no whips and chains, if that’s what you’re asking. And I’ve never hit a woman.” He rubbed a knuckle over one thick eyebrow. “But it doesn’t really matter what I say, because I don’t doubt for a minute she’ll lie to get what she wants.”
“And she wants Troy?”
“She doesn’t care about him or she wouldn’t leave him with strangers. She wants the money that comes with him.”
“Did you get the name of the girl she left him with last night? We need to get a statement from her before Amber can get to her.”
“Elle got it.”
“Yes, Elle would. Good. She’ll know how to take care of this. Do what she says. What was that noise?”
The sound of Max’s teeth grinding together. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, so he unclenched his jaw. “Nothing. Anything else?”
“Yes. Be nice. I want Elle still to work for the Thunder organization when she’s done helping you.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m not making fun.” Ray barked out the words. “I’ve seen the friction between you two, and this is too important to muck up. I expect professionalism from both of you.” There was a pause. “I’ve got another call. Send Elle in as soon as you can.” The line went dead.
Growling his displeasure with the whole situation, Max returned to the bedroom in time to shut off Elle’s alarm before it woke her or the boy. Max eyed the bed. Troy had moved into Max’s space and Elle had rolled toward the middle. The only space big enough for him was next to her.
Max could have moved Troy, but where was the fun in that?
Feeling ornery, he climbed in behind Elle’s lush form and, pulling her to him, laid his head next to hers on the pillow. Her hair tickled his nose and the sweet scent of cherry blossoms filled his senses. For all of a moment he savored how delicious she felt in his arms before sleep knocked him out.
CHAPTER THREE
ELLE WOKE UP wrapped in the arms of a man. And he was warm and solid and it felt really, really good. And right, they fitted.
Disoriented, she opened her eyes and stared into the blue eyes of a toddler sitting next to her in the bed. She blinked, as much to kick-start her brain as to clear her vision.
And it worked; she remembered the midnight call from the jail and driving Jaden and Max home. Remembered the brunette dropping off a coat that turned out to be Max’s son, Troy. And that’s where her mind tripped up; this must truly be a dream. Or maybe a nightmare, because no way had she actually climbed into bed with Max Beasley.
Yep, that must be it. A dream. Complete with sensory perception, the baby’s tug on her hair, the whisper of the man’s breath on her neck, the smell of soap and coffee. And the feel of a warm, hard male along the length of her back.
She closed her eyes and willed herself to wake up, but she couldn’t concentrate with the feel of strong arms holding her close. How long had it been since she’d woken in the arms of a lover? Not since she’d broken it off with Brad, which was—well over a year ago.
Too long by far.
“Wake up.” A soft hand patted her cheek. “Mama.”
Not even close, kid.
Wait. Coffee?
“You know, it’s amazing,” drawled a sleep-husky voice. “I can actually feel you thinking. What surprises me is you haven’t jumped up screaming about your virtue. I knew you really liked me, Ellie.”
Elle stiffened at the first sound of his voice and then she scrambled until she sat up against the black leather headboard. She glared down into eyes much more alert than his voice implied.
“I thought I might be dreaming,” she declared. He grinned at that. “But I was right the first time. I’m in the middle of a nightmare.”
“Now tell the truth, Ellie.” His smile never dimmed. “You know you’re crushing on me.”
Troy crawled up the bed and into Elle’s lap. Without thinking about it she kissed his light curls.
“I know you’re a sophomoric moron. And my name is Elle.” She eyed the coffee cups steaming on the nightstand behind him and debated with herself whether it was worth reaching over him to get to one.
As she couldn’t do so without coming into intimate contact with his bare chest, she chose to set Troy next to Max and then scooted to her side of the bed and walked around. It might not be graceful but it was safer.
Avoiding Max’s smirking gaze, she caught sight of the time.
“Ten after nine! Shoot, shoot, shoot. How could you let me sleep so long?”
“Calm down. I just got up myself.”
“You’ve been up long enough to make coffee.”
“Coffee doesn’t count. I’m not awake until after I’ve had a cup.”
Anger roared through Elle. She’d like to argue with him but how could she when she felt the same way? And it was really good coffee, too, which somehow made it worse.