I took a deep breath and texted back with a thumbs-up.
Which is why I found myself hesitating outside Maddie’s office in the executive wing of the complex right before four that afternoon. I’d spent the morning in the gym, and the afternoon on the ice, and I should be feeling loose, relaxed.
Certain.
Instead, I was the opposite of that, and my damnKteerwas rumbling in my chest, putting me even more on edge. Something was about to happen—something big.
I lifted my fist to knock, just as a bustle of activity down the hall drew my attention. I glanced left just as a group of three people emerged from one of the larger offices; the older male I recognized as Rex Fairbanks, the owner of the ice complex that was the Terrors’ unofficial home.
So I sort of backed up respectfully against Maddie’s door, giving him the room to pass by. The woman on his right was holding a phone in one hand, a tablet in the other, and was chattering away about his meetings—her posture screamedassistant. It was the other female, however, who caught my eye…
She was round in all the most delicious places, poured into a tight skirt and a soft, pale blouse. Look, I’m a male who can appreciate the female form, right? So of course I noticed her hips and tits first. But when I raised my eyes to her face, I was surprised to see her cheeks were bright pink and her gaze locked on the tile in front of her as she hurried silently beside Fairbanks.
I frowned, studying her. What was wrong? Had Fairbanks said something to upset her? And how could I help?
It was only then that I realized myKteerhad finally—finally—shut up, with my entire body still as I watched the trio hurrying toward me. The stupid piece of biology wasn’t urging me to help the stranger, or flirt with her, or any of the things I would normally try to do with a female that hot.
Instead, I just stood and watched her cheeks pink more—in embarrassment—as she and the others passed me. At the last minute, Fairbanks glanced away from his assistant to meet my eyes, and I saw the recognition flare.
I cringed, expecting him to reference that last game in the playoffs, but instead, he merely inclined his head—a reserved nod between males—and continued past me. Sweeping along behind him was the young female with the honey-gold hair and the stunning ass.
She didn’t look back.
You’re drooling.
No, I wasn’t. I was Kardok the Wicked; I didn’t drool over females, I had them throwing themselves at me. The announcers called meThe Wicked One, and that was the truth.
So I shook myself and turned back to the door…only to have it open before I could knock.
Maddie Moskowitz beamed up at me. “Right on time. Come in and hear my latest scheme.”
I followed her dutifully and joined her at the table, then turned down her offer of tea—she knew I didn’t drink coffee—and tried to calm my racing heart as I stacked my hands on the table in expectation. Interestingly, myKteerwasstillsilent.
“Does this new scheme of yours involve good PR, or bad?” I asked.
“The best PR—the kind that’s going to get the team praised as charitable and invested.”
Well, I couldn’t argue with that; Maddie wasgoodat her job. “And it involves me?” I couldn’t help the hope in my voice.
Redemption.
When she winked, as if she understood what I was asking, I felt my mood improving. Maybe whatever scheme she’d concoctedwouldhelp…
Maddie launched into a description of where the youth league stood, and I was momentarily distracted. I wasn’tthe only one of the team who felt a kinship toward the kids—mostly human, but a few orc kitlings—who shared our practice space in the evenings. There were a few of the males who even attended the Junior Terrors’ games to cheer them on.
But I doubt any of us had realized exactly how expensive youth hockey was. Many of us had grown up playing an orcish version that involved no protective gear, and our first experience with all the equipment had been when we’d received sponsorships to pay for them.
My brows went up as Maddie listed the stuff the league needed…and the costs.
“The guys and I could chip in—” I offered, but she waved away the offer.
“Don’t get me wrong, I might take you up on it, but there’s a better way.” She stacked her hands in front of her and leaned in. “I’ve met with Mr. Fairbanks and the head of the Fairbanks Enterprises charitable wing, and we’ve come up with a plan: a charity gala for hockey fans.”
Oh. Well, it wasn’t the first time we’d played an exhibition game for a good cause. I shrugged. “I’m sure the team will be happy to participate.”
“Oh, I’m not talking about a charity hockey game, Kardok. At least not for the Terrors—the youth teams might scrimmage, just to show the backers what they’re donating to. But my vision is even more interesting: A performance. On ice. With two of our fan favorites.”
It was the way she announced it, palmsout like a magician’s assistant, that had me leaning backward in my seat, suddenly a little nervous.
