Page 73 of The Ice Kiss


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"He’s taken me out to dinner before," I remind her.

"That was to his grandmother’s place which, if you ask me, is already a big deal."

"And one of the main reasons we embarked on this farce of an engagement." My emotions have been on such a roller-coaster, I had to confide in her about the reality of the situation and make her swear to secrecy. Which is unusual. I’m not used to confiding in others. I’m used to relying only on myself. But being in a different country and in a new job has made me more vulnerable than usual. That’s the only reason I confided in Mira—I only know her through Solene, but she’s been so warm and friendly, and I get the impression she’s not judgmental, so I couldn’t help but share the true situation with her.

"You don’t sound happy about it," she murmurs.

"I’m not." I train my gaze down at the men gliding along the ice. I’m standing in one of the VIP boxes that overlooks the rink and gives me a bird's-eye view of the practice session. I’ve positioned myself sufficiently to the side so if any of the players look up, they won’t spot me at once. From my vantage point, I can make out the #13 jersey, and even if he didn’t have a number on the back, I’d know it was him from his size and the breadth of his shoulders. All kitted out in his protective equipment, the man looks like a beast, and damn, but I’m even more attracted to him now.

As I watch, Rick bends low with a controlled motion, then lifts the puck off the ice and over the defender’s skates. Caspian picks up the puck and throws it at the goal. Finn, the goalie, drops down on his knees in a butterfly stance but is unable to stop it. Yeah, I’m learning about ice hockey and my vocabulary is improving. I can even tell you that was a saucer pass Rick used with the puck. The men break into cheers; Rick and Caspian high-five each other. Apparently, their enmity is forgotten on the ice. And that’s how good professionals are. And Rick is a professional, no matter that he’s going to face that ass Dennis in a real-life brawl.

If the press gets wind of it, it’s going to be ugly. It’s a PR professional’s nightmare, to be honest. Especially if they find out that the woman at the center of the brawl is me.

Below me, the whistle blows, and the players slow to a stop. Rick and Finn bump glove-covered fists, then pat each other on their backs before they follow the others off the ice.

"Gio, you there?" Mira’s voice reaches me.

I shake out of my reverie and give her my full attention. "Sorry, was watching the practice match."

"Ooh, so did the two of you drive there together, like a real engaged couple?"

"No, we didn’t, because we’re not a real engaged couple."

"Hmm," she scowls.

I roll my eyes. "Okay, enough with your hmms. What are you thinking? Out with it, woman."

"Just that the chemistry between the two of you in the pictures I’ve seen online seems real. If you hadn’t told me it was all pretend, I wouldn’t have guessed it."

"So you thought I moved to London, fell in love with the captain of the hockey team, and got engaged to him in the space of weeks?"

"When you know, you know."

"Oh boy, you’re such a romantic."

"And you could do with being more of one." She half smiles.

"I read enough spicy books to know romance only belongs between the page flips of a Kindle and not in real life."

"Oh my god, that’s so cynical."

"That’s me."

"And yet, you read romance novels?"

"That’swhyI read romance novels," I correct her. "There’s something reassuring about reading about all that groveling and all those declarations of love and grand gestures, not to mention the spicy scenes which—" I pause.

"Which?" She tilts her head.

"Doesn’t matter."

"No, go on. You can’t leave me hanging like that. What were you going to say?"

I flush. "Nothing."

She surveys my features, then that smile on her face broadens. "You were going to say that you thought the spicy scenes only belonged in the smutty romance novels you read, but now that you’ve slept with that sex on-a-hockey-stick, you realize it’s not the case anymore."

My flush rises to my scalp. "We may have slept together, but we haven’t had sex.”

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