From playboy...to father and husband?

Hunter Torrance, former Demons hockey star, is back—now as the team physiotherapist. And while team doctor Charlotte Michaels doesn’t believe he’s changed his playboy ways, the attraction between them is undeniable!

Hunter has worked hard at becoming a father to little Alfie, his newly found son. With Charlotte’s help, he knows he can be—though she guards her heart as fiercely as he does his. He’s sure they could be a family—if only they can take the risk!

Dear Reader,

‘Ice Hockey Dude’, as my hero Hunter has been affectionately known throughout the writing process, has been in the planning for a very long time. Ice hockey is a relatively new sport to Belfast, and—as with the town in my book—it brought much excitement with it. Along with a host of handsome Canadian players who did indeed fall in love with local girls and are still here over a decade later. A romance novel just waiting to happen!

As with all bad boys, Hunter Torrance has taken some taming, but with the help of my fabulous editor, Laura, I’ve finally wrestled him into submission. Now all we need is Charlotte Michaels, the team doctor, to forgive him his sins too and learn to trust him again…

Happy reading!

Karin xx

Reforming the Playboy

Karin Baine

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Books by Karin Baine

Mills & Boon Medical Romance

Paddington Children’s Hospital

Falling for the Foster Mum

French Fling to Forever

A Kiss to Change Her Life

The Doctor’s Forbidden Fling

The Courage to Love Her Army Doc

Visit the Author Profile page

at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.

This book is for my sisters, Heather and Jemma, who first got me hooked on ice hockey and encouraged my stalking of No. 28! Also for Jaime and Lucy, the next generation of Giants fans.

Thanks must go to Andrew, because without his help I never would’ve been able to write this book. Or so he would tell you. And to Ricky so he doesn’t feel left out!

It’s been a rough few years for all of us and, though I never say it, I love you all. xx

Finally, to fellow author Annie O’Neil. You’ve been an angel, and although we’ve yet to meet you’ve become such a lovely friend.

Listen to the rhythm

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Dear Reader

Title Page

Booklist

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

IF ALIENS HAD landed in the middle of this rural Northern Irish town and declared her their new supreme leader, Charlotte Michaels couldn’t have been any more surprised than she was now.

‘Hunter Torrance? The Hunter Torrance is the new team physiotherapist?’

Although he was standing there, casting a shadow over her, she didn’t quite believe it. Didn’t want to believe it. The Ballydolan Demons was her team, her responsibility, and having ice hockey’s most infamous bad boy on board wasn’t going to dig them out of the hole they were in.

‘Yes. Deal with it, Charlie. We need him.’ Gray Sinclair, the head coach, delivered the news and strode away, leaving her face-to-face with the new signing in the arena corridor. She’d been on her way to watch the team train when the pair had ambushed her and literally stopped her in her tracks.

‘Hunter Torrance, the new physio. For now. I guess my future employment will be dependent on results.’ The latest addition to the team held out his hand as he introduced himself but she wasn’t inclined to shake it until someone convinced her this wasn’t some sort of sick joke.

‘Like everything around here,’ she muttered. He wasn’t the only one on trial. This was her first season as team doctor, and so far, with the list of injuries they had, a run of poor results and the last physiotherapist quitting on short notice, it could be her last too.

With a build more like a willow tree than the mighty oaks usually associated with the sport, she’d worked hard to be taken seriously but now they’d landed her with a sidekick who still held the UK Ice Hockey League record for most time spent in the sin bin she was worried the professionalism of the medical staff would be in jeopardy. The ex-Demons player had undermined the team’s position in the league once before and she wouldn’t sit back and let him do it again. In any capacity.

He smiled at her then, even as she ignored his offer of friendship. It was a slow, lazy grin, revealing the boyish dimples which had made him a pin-up for many a girl around here. Her included. If someone had told her at eighteen she’d be working alongside this one-time NHL hunk some day she would’ve died with happiness. Now the sight of him here was liable to make her forget she was a strong, independent career woman and not that same vulnerable teen. Something she had no time for nine years on.

He hadn’t changed much in that time, at least not physically. Although this was probably the closest she’d ever been to him without the Perspex partition separating the players from the fans. He was still as handsome as ever, only now the pretty boy-band looks had morphed into the age-appropriate man-band version. Those green eyes still sparkled beneath long, sooty lashes, his dark hair was thick and wavy, if longer than she remembered, and he was dressed in a black wool coat, tailored blue shirt and jeans rather than the familiar black and red Demons kit. Damn but he’d aged well; the mature look suited him. It was a shame she could barely look at him without the abject humiliation of her past feelings for him spoiling the view.

‘It’s good to be back,’ he said, and continued walking towards the rink as though he was returning to an idyllic childhood home and not the scene of his past misdemeanours.

For a moment Charlotte contemplated walking back in the other direction and locking herself in a nice quiet room somewhere until he’d gone away. He’d appeared from the shadows as if he were a bad dream. Or a good one, depending on which Charlotte was having the fantasy—the young infatuated girl or the cynical woman who knew bad boys weren’t exciting or glamorous, they just screwed people over.

She didn’t. Instead, she followed him towards the ice. Hunter wasn’t to know she’d been enamoured with him to the point of obsession the last time he’d been on Northern Irish soil but he had cost her beloved Demons the championship with his antics. Even if she hadn’t been embarrassed by her teen fantasies she still wasn’t convinced he was up to the job and simply didn’t trust him to do it effectively.

‘Why are you here?’ Her forthright attitude obviously wasn’t something he was used to, or expecting. She could see him tensing next to her and she didn’t like it. To her, the guarded reaction meant he had something to hide. The very nature of his defensive body language said he was fighting to keep his secrets contained but she wouldn’t be fobbed off easily when it came to work matters.

‘No offence but you’re an ex-player for a reason. The drinking, the fighting, the generally bad attitude...they’re not qualities I look for in a co-worker either.’ His last appearance here had been a coup for the Demons to have him on board when no other team would have him. A big name for a budget price. Unfortunately, even this easy-going community hadn’t been enough to tame his wild ways. He’d become a liability in the end, his playing time down to single figures for his last matches, as opposed to the many minutes he’d spent in the penalty box. Eventually people had given up on him. Charlotte too, once she’d realised he wasn’t the man she’d thought he was when he’d snatched success away from the team. There’d been a collective sigh of relief when he’d flown back to Canada and she couldn’t say she was happy to work alongside someone prone to such unpredictability now either.

‘Ah, so you witnessed that particular phase of my life? In which case I can’t expect you to be performing cartwheels on my return but I can assure you I’m here to work, not to raise hell.’ Something dark flitted across his features that said he was deadly serious about being here, and sent chilly fingers reaching out to grab Charlotte by the back of the neck. She wanted desperately to believe that having him here would benefit the team, not hinder it, but she needed more proof than his word.

‘I don’t understand. Why would you want to come back to a team that holds memories of what I imagine was a very dark time for you? Especially to work off the ice rather than on it?’ She made no apology for her blunt line of questioning. It didn’t make sense to her and she’d made it a rule a long time ago to question anything she deemed suspect. She’d learned to follow her gut feeling rather than blindly take people at face value. It prevented a lot of pain and time-wasting further down the road.

‘Despite...everything, I like the place. I want to make this my home again. There’s also the matter of laying a few personal demons to rest and proving to you, and everyone else, I’m not that same hothead I was nine years ago.’ It had taken Hunter some time to answer her but when he did he held eye contact so she was inclined to believe what he was saying, even though she doubted it was the whole truth.

‘I trust you have all the relevant qualifications and experience?’ Although she expected his appointment was more to do with his connections here and last-minute availability than actually being the best man for the job, she couldn’t stop herself from asking. She needed someone who knew what he was doing on the medical staff with her.

‘All my papers are in order if you’d like to see them.’ He was teasing her now, the slight curve of his mouth telling her he wasn’t intimidated by her interrogation technique.

‘That won’t be necessary,’ she said, folding her arms across her chest as a defence against the dimples. This so wasn’t fair.

‘Look, I’m the first one to admit I was a screw-up. Not everyone will be happy to see me back but I’m sure we’re all different people now compared to who we were back then.’ He leaned back against the barrier, his coat falling open for a full-length view of the apparently new and improved Hunter.

That giddy, infatuated fan who shared Charlotte’s DNA insisted on taking a good, long look. Who was to say that Mr Sophistication here wouldn’t someday regress back to his rebellious alter ego too?

She’d never been a fan of that particular side of him. The young girl she’d been then had enjoyed the macho displays of the defenceman body-checking his opponents into the hoardings or dropping his gloves in a challenge fight. There was something primitive in watching that, even now, and there’d been times she’d wanted someone to defend her the way he had his teammates. He’d definitely been a crowd-and a Charlotte-pleaser for a time. But those later months when he’d fought with his own coach and smashed equipment in bad temper had made for uncomfortable viewing. It had felt like watching someone unravel in public and had come as no surprise to anyone when the Demons, or any team, had refused to renew his contract. He’d slunk back to Canada in disgrace, never to be heard of again. Until today.

‘Clearly Gray thinks you’ve changed since this was his doing and he’s the man in charge, not me. Well, I mean, if I was in charge I’d be a woman, not a man...’

‘Obviously.’ Hunter dropped his gaze to her feet and she followed it all the way back up to her eyes. He may as well have had X-ray vision the way he’d studied her form so carefully, smiling whilst she burned everywhere his eyes had lit upon her.

No, no, no, no, no! This wouldn’t do at all. Behind the scenes of an ice-hockey team was not an appropriate place to suddenly become self-aware and he certainly wasn’t an appropriate male to be the cause of it. These men were out of bounds. All of them.

Hunter mightn’t be a player, or one of her patients, but he was a colleague. Given their past history, albeit a one-sided affair, his presence here complicated matters even more for her. With the team languishing in the bottom half of the league her position was already a tad precarious, without him in the picture too. Especially when he kept looking at her as though he was trying to pick her up in a seedy bar.

‘Well, I’m sure you’ll want to meet the team...’ She backed away, reminding herself this wasn’t about her, Hunter or any ridiculous crush. They were both here to do a job and a team of sweaty, macho hockey players should be a good distraction from any residual teenage nonsense.

‘Maybe later. I wouldn’t want to disrupt training. We should probably use the time to get to know each other better so I can convince you I’m not here as some sort of punishment.’

‘That’s really not necessary.’ Charlotte gave a shudder. She knew all she needed to know about Hunter Torrance. Probably more than most due to her teenage obsession and enough for her to want to keep a little distance between them.

‘Hey, we’re both on the same team, right?’

‘Not by choice,’ she muttered under her breath.

It was no wonder the powers that be had kept this snippet of information from her until it was too late to do anything about it. She’d been surprised they’d found a replacement physiotherapist willing to see out the last few games of the season and hadn’t asked any questions, simply glad to have help getting the team back to fighting strength for the play-off qualifiers. Now she knew the good news had come with a catch.

‘Well, I’ll do my best not to get in your way. Actually, I wasn’t even expecting you to be here today. I thought team doctors practically only made appearances on match days with the slew of outside commitments and specialist clinics you all usually have to boost your salaries. I know this is a different league from the NHL in terms of rules, technical terms, profile and especially finances. Or are you the official welcome committee?’

She knew he was deliberately being facetious as he took a little payback for the hard time she’d given him so far. His sneer earned him her narrow-eyed stare, which usually had the power to wither a man at fifty paces, but the bad boy of the tabloids took it all in his stride. What was a dirty look in the grand scheme of things when she supposed his whole past would probably be raked over again in the national press when they got wind of his return?

‘Clearly, I didn’t get the memo we’d have a VIP joining us otherwise I would have dusted off my pom-poms.’

Hunter opened his mouth to say something then seemed to think better of it and simply shook his head. It was probably a good idea. She wasn’t in the mood for innuendo-based banter in the workplace, even if she had left the door wide open for it.

‘In answer to your question, I’m here for the play-off matches. I schedule my sports and musculoskeletal clinics around my time here so I don’t miss anything.’ It wasn’t easy but she used her personal leave to make sure she was here for the most important dates on the hockey calendar.

‘I’m sure there aren’t many who have such commitment.’ He seemed impressed that she took her role here seriously but that only made her blood boil a fraction more. If he’d ever been as dedicated as she was to the game he would understand the sacrifices she made. Experience had taught her Hunter wasn’t the team player the Demons needed.

‘This is my team. I want to see them win and I’ll do what I can to help realise that dream, but we do have our work cut out for us at the minute. Carter has a meniscus tear, Jensen has bursitis, Dempsey a groin strain, and Anderson, our star player, needs a serious attitude adjustment.’ She listed those battling injury who were already causing concern for the upcoming matches. He needed to understand the workload was substantial and this job wasn’t simply a position with a title.

‘I’m sure we can manage between us. After all, that’s what I’m here for. Not to make your life more difficult or to cause trouble. Those days are long gone. What do you say we start over with a clean slate and work together to get this team back on its feet?’ He held out his hand in truce, asking that she forgive whatever sins he might’ve committed in her eyes.

Perhaps she was overstepping the mark here when she wasn’t in any position of authority but she’d thought someone should have the Demons’ best interests at heart when Gray’s judgement seemed clouded by sentiment, or sympathy, or something that had no business in his team decisions. Still, the deed was done now and as a professional she knew better than to let her personal feelings get in the way of doing her job.

‘Fine.’ She hesitantly reached out towards him and shook on the new partnership. Her hand tingled where Hunter’s gripped it so confidently and it wasn’t simply because of the sheer size and power of him, making her fingers seem doll-like compared to his. There was also the moment of fantasy and reality colliding in that touch. Hunter Torrance was actually in her life now.

She inhaled the fresh, citrus scent of his aftershave so deeply she made herself dizzy. An entirely primal reaction that probably would’ve happened whether she’d known who he was or not.

For most single women he’d be the perfect package. If tall, dark, handsome and Canadian did it for you. Which it did. Why else would she be sniffing him as if he were made of chocolate and she wanted a taste? He was wrong for her on so many levels so she’d simply have to resist licking his face.

She’d done her best to fit in here as one of the crew, and making doe eyes at the new recruit wasn’t very professional, it was asking for trouble. And it had definitely found her in the shape of a six-foot-four, two-hundred-pound ex-hockey-player.

Okay, so she still had stats memorised, it didn’t mean anything other than she’d once been a girl with way too much time on her hands. An unhappy girl from a suddenly broken home who’d sat in her room like some fairy-tale princess in a tower, waiting for her knight in shining armour to come and rescue her. Except her hockey-playing knight had turned out to be an immature mess who had stolen the chance of that championship title from her beloved Demons and fuelled the theory all men had the ability to inflict mortal wounds to the heart. Not so much galloping off into the sunset as a life sentence distrusting anyone who dared come too close.

She knew her hostility towards him would seem uncalled for, petty even. That didn’t stop her from hoping his past might catch up with him and send him back to the land of snow and ice. He’d shown he wasn’t a man to be relied on when his team needed him. Surely she wouldn’t be the only one to hold a grudge?

In his short time here he’d insulted and fought with many, had damaged the reputation of the club and generally been a pain in the backside to all those around him. Not everyone would be glad to see him return and she was kind of hoping those with a legitimate reason to give him a hard time would, to save her blushes and her position on staff.

Gray, the coward, had apparently left it to her to break the news to the others. It had taken all of her inner strength not to protest, You were on that team he decimated, you should know better than anyone why I think he’s a liability.

She hadn’t because she did her best to keep her passion for the game and her job separate. There was no fair reason he shouldn’t be here if he had all the relevant experience needed for this job.

‘Guys? Can we have a quick word?’

The team trooped off the ice and lined up, waiting for the news. Charlotte swallowed hard. There was definitely no going back now.

‘We just wanted to tell you there’s a new addition to the medical staff. Hunter Torrance will be your new physiotherapist for the rest of the season.’ She didn’t sugar-coat it. They could come to their own conclusions about what this meant. Her only job had been to relay the message and she’d done that as quickly and as bluntly as she could so this was over soon and she could go home to lick her wounds.

‘What?’

‘The Hunter Torrance?’

‘You’re kidding!’

There was a stand-off moment as they stood looking blankly at each other, no one knowing what to do with that information, including Hunter. He was frozen beside her, probably trying to decide on the fight-or-flight method of defence. She knew which one she’d prefer and would happily book him a one-way ticket back to Canada.

The first stick hit the ground with a heavy thud, then another, and another, until he’d received a round of applause hockey-style.

Floret, the captain, stepped forward and shook Hunter’s hand first. ‘Good to have you on board.’

Charlotte figured the move was because he was a fellow countryman but he was soon followed by the rest of the multinational squad.

‘You’re a legend, man.’

‘Dude, I’m sure you have stories to tell.’

Charlotte rolled her eyes as they surrounded their new physio as if he was some sort of rock star. The last thing she needed was the players taking their cue from him that bad behaviour would ultimately be rewarded.

At least Hunter had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed by the positive attention. In her opinion he didn’t deserve it and by the way his cheeks had reddened and he was trying to back away from the crowd she guessed he didn’t think so either. Too bad. They were both stuck in this hell now.

‘They’re all yours,’ she muttered as she walked away unnoticed and left him at the mercy of his adoring fan club. After all, he’d insisted he could handle them and she was done for the afternoon. With the play-off matches looming, which could see them knocked out of the Final Four Weekend in Nottingham, they’d soon find out if the ex-rebel had turned over that new leaf and could justify his new place with the team.

The fan in her wanted him to work some magic and help get them match fit to fight their rivals for that place in the finals but she was a cynic at heart. She’d rather not take the chance of getting her hopes up, only to be disappointed at the last moment.

* * *

Hunter hadn’t come to ruffle any more feathers. He had enough old enemies without making new ones and he certainly hadn’t intended on upsetting the resident doctor. Gray had called in too many favours for him, none of which he deserved, to screw this up now. His old teammate was the one person who knew what he’d been through and had been willing to give him a chance. One he was grabbing with both hands.

Those selfish, heady days were far behind him now. There was only one reason he was back in this County Antrim town and that was for his son.

Hunter Torrance, the responsible father. It was the punchline to a very sick joke. A disgraced hockey player who’d barely been able to take care of himself now found he was the sole parent to an eight-year-old boy who’d just lost his mother in a car crash. He’d only had a few months to get used to the idea of being a father and to grieve for the relationship he could have had with Sara, the ex-girlfriend who’d hid the huge secret from him. Perhaps if he’d been in the right head space back then, able to love her, they could’ve been the family he’d always dreamed of having. Instead, he’d walked away from her, consumed by his own self-pity, and returned to Edmonton.

For as unreliable as the old Hunter had been, the new one was as determined for his son to have the stable upbringing he’d never had. So he’d given up everything he’d worked hard to rebuild back home to do it. Now all he had to do was convince Sara’s parents, Alfie’s grandparents, and everyone else here he was up to the job.

He’d expected an initial backlash over his appointment here from the players and fans but not from the rest of the medical staff. This doctor probably knew nothing of him beyond his reputation yet it seemed enough to warrant her displeasure at the prospect of having to work alongside him. Not that he could blame her. The back-slapping welcome he’d received had come as a surprise to him too. Tales of his hockey days were probably a novelty to young, up-and-coming players still caught up in the thrill of the game.

For those who’d been personally affected by his behaviour, himself included, he’d prefer to confine his exploits to the past, and he’d told them so. After he’d confirmed or denied several of the urban legends attributed to his name and number.

‘Is it true you spent longer in the penalty box than on the rink for the last month of your career?’

‘Yes.’ He wasn’t proud of it. He hadn’t been trying to play the villain or even defend his own players. The issues from his childhood that he’d tried to suppress had finally come to the surface in an explosion of misdirected rage. Years of therapy had taught him that but it wasn’t information he was willing to share, or a time of his life he was keen to revisit. He was a different man now. Hopefully one more at peace with his past and himself.

‘Did you really punch a linesman and knock out his teeth?’

Hunter sighed. He’d long since apologised to the unfortunate man whose offside decision he’d so violently opposed. ‘One tooth, but I’m afraid to say I did.’

He didn’t want any impressionable young talent to think his past behaviour was an advertisement for anything other than career suicide. ‘It cost me my place on the team, my life here, everything.’

By that stage he’d been completely out of control, drinking too much, lashing out and acting out the role of a child in pain seeking the attention of a family that didn’t want him. Ironically it was that behaviour that had made Sara turn her back on him and deny him a chance of a family of his own.

‘I imagine tales of my debauchery have been greatly exaggerated in my absence. It’s probably best you don’t believe everything you’ve heard about me and form your own opinion. Which mightn’t be any more favourable when you see the new programme I’ve devised for you...’

Whilst a new, intensive regime wouldn’t endear him to his new buddies, it was his way of proving he was serious about his job here. He hadn’t moved halfway across the world to be one of the guys; he was here to make a difference to the team and secure a future for him and Alfie. Gray had clued him in on the challenges he was up against and it was possibly the reason he’d secured the job against the odds—no one else was willing to take on the responsibility of a struggling team at such short notice. Hunter had done his homework and he knew exactly what he was up against but he’d been training for this ever since he’d hit rock bottom and had decided he wanted his life back in whatever capacity was available to him. After years of therapy and retraining he certainly wasn’t going to be put off by the thought of some hard graft.

If only Charlotte had stuck around she would’ve seen the adoration had been short-lived. He’d come prepared with notes and ideas on strengthening and stability exercises for the guys. As a player he knew how much stress the joints and muscles went through. The mechanics of the game and the repetitive actions left the body vulnerable to injury and even a slight strain could easily become a nagging injury, refusing to heal. It was his job to prevent more serious problems further down the line as well as treat them. Regardless of her departure, he’d forged ahead in implementing his new exercise regime, strapped up those who’d needed a bit of extra muscle support and massaged any problem areas in preparation for these next important games.

He’d gone on to treat Colton’s groin strain with a myofascial release of the muscles involved, manipulating the connective tissue with a sustained, gentle pressure to help regain function again.

Murray’s torn meniscus, caused by the trauma of the knee joint being forcefully twisted, thankfully wasn’t severe enough to warrant surgery. Hunter worked to strengthen the muscle surrounding the knee and add to the stability of the joint. The excess swelling and pain were treated with anti-inflammatory medication.

He was sorry Charlotte hadn’t been here to witness his switch back into business mode. His commitment should make her job a little easier too. After all, the medical team was supposed to work together to get the most from the players. It wasn’t an in-house competition to decide who deserved their place here over the other.

* * *

The noise of the crowd and the smell of the crisp, clean ice took Hunter back to his own game nights, and gave him the same adrenaline rush it always had. His first match tonight wasn’t so much about that final score for him but about his personal performance. He wanted to make a good impression and shoot down all the naysayers who still believed he was a liability in any capacity here.

He filed down the players’ tunnel with the rest of the game crew. It was odd being part of the team without being part of the team. He was almost anonymous, standing here in the shadows. The way he preferred it. It was circumstance that had dragged him back into the outer edges of the spotlight.

He ventured out far enough to glance around the arena, trying to pick out those present who’d brought this sudden and dramatic change to his way of life.

‘Are you looking for someone?’ Charlotte appeared beside him.

‘Er...no one in particular.’ The seats he’d arranged for Alfie and his grandparents were still empty but he wasn’t going to share that information with anyone. He’d learned the hard way to keep details of his personal life out of the public domain and he wasn’t about to jeopardise his chances of getting custody of his son for anybody. Even if it might take that look of disgust off her face.

The intense reaction he was able to draw from her with minimal goading fascinated him and he didn’t know why, beyond wondering what he’d done to deserve it. She wasn’t his usual type, at least not the old Hunter who’d enjoyed the company of more...appearance-obsessed ladies who’d revelled in their sexuality. Sara hadn’t been bold or brash but she’d certainly given her feminine attributes a boost with beauty treatments and figure-hugging outfits.

Charlotte was a natural beauty, shining brightly through her attempts to disguise it. Even wearing her game crew red fleece and with her chestnut-brown hair swept to one side in a messy braid, she was as pretty as a picture. He wouldn’t deny it but neither would he act on it even if she didn’t treat him as if he was the devil incarnate. They were co-workers and all women were off limits for the foreseeable future. For once he had to think about someone other than himself and Alfie’s well-being came before hockey or his love life.

‘Well, if you can drag yourself away from whatever has caught your interest, the game is being played in that direction.’ She nodded towards the ice, obviously mistaking his keenness to see his son for something more lascivious.

Given his reputation, it wasn’t a huge stretch of the imagination that she should jump to that conclusion but he did wonder if she would ever give him the benefit of the doubt when it came to questioning his commitment to the job. Especially since he had no intention of correcting her or making her aware of Alfie’s existence. They weren’t close enough for him to share such personal information and as first impressions went he didn’t think they were going to be best buds any time soon.

Still, he did take a certain pleasure in her tut and the roll of her eyes before she stomped away in temper. It was good that she took her work seriously but she really needed to loosen up. He wasn’t the enemy, even if it was fun playing the part now and again.

Hunter’s smile died on his lips as he wrenched his gaze away from his colleague’s denim-clad derriere and back to the crowd. Sara’s parents were in their seats, watching him with disapproval etched across their faces. Whilst he’d been busy with Charlotte he’d missed their arrival and had fallen at the first hurdle by ignoring his son in favour of a woman. It had taken a while simply to get them to tell Alfie he was his father and this was the first time he’d been allowed to see him outside their home.

They didn’t want Alfie’s parentage to be public knowledge any more than he did until things were settled a bit more. Their caution was understandable when he’d already left their daughter in the lurch and probably ruined her life. Unfortunately he couldn’t do anything to make amends for their loss but he could try to be the parent Alfie needed him to be.

He gave a wave, his eyes now only for his son, and the swell of love that rose in his chest for the excited little boy waving back put everything into perspective once more. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought of him as long as his son loved him, trusted him enough to be with him.

The O’Reillys weren’t against the idea of him having custody as long as it was in the best interests of their grandson. All he had to do was make sure he was match fit for the parenting game and leave the old Hunter back on the ice. Along with any wayward thoughts towards his fiery new colleague.

CHAPTER TWO

THE ATMOSPHERE AROUND the arena was electric, everyone buoyed up for the game against the Coleraine Cobras and the chance of getting one step closer to the play-off finals. The Demons were the underdogs at present and to secure their place they needed to come out on top after playing one home and one away match to the Cobras, who were sitting at the top of the league table. It was a tall order but Charlotte kept faith along with all the other fans.

She could hardly believe she was now part of the action instead of a mere spectator sitting in the stands with everyone else. It was a privilege to be on the ground floor of the establishment but she’d also worked damned hard to get here. There was no way she would let everything she’d achieved slip through her fingers for the sake of one man’s ego. Whatever, or whoever, had brought him back to town needed to take a back seat for the team’s sake.

She’d had to swallow her pride and come out to stand alongside Hunter in the tunnel because that’s where she needed to be—on site and focused on the players. It didn’t stop her unobtrusively watching him as the lights dimmed and the crowd was whipped into a frenzy with roving spotlights and blaring sirens hailing the arrival of the home team.

Each time the lights fell on his face for a split second she could see his eyes trained on the ice waiting, watching for that puck to drop. As intense as he’d always been.

A shiver danced its way along her spine as she recalled those past games when she’d found it difficult to watch anything other than him on the ice. It wouldn’t do to regress to that sort of infatuation again and for once she should follow his example and get her head in the game. Although he perhaps wasn’t as single-minded about tonight as he’d led her to believe. She’d caught sight of him waving to someone in the crowd. Someone who’d made him smile. Not that she was jealous. She pitied him really that he couldn’t be alone in his own company for five minutes without the need to hook up with a woman.

The single life suited her and she believed she was stronger without a partner to fret over. Between her and the apparently lovestruck Hunter she knew she’d be the one giving her all to the team without distractions. Not everyone would put the Demons first in their life the way she did, but it was concerning he had other priorities already. They didn’t need any more drama behind the scenes and if he really was serious about being part of the squad he ought to be focusing somewhere other than the contents of his trousers. It gave credence to the notion he was only back here for Hunter Torrance’s benefit, not the Demons’. She doubted he’d be willing to put in the overtime or go the extra mile the way she did if he had other pursuits outside working hours.

The first two periods of play were relatively uneventful, with both sides playing it safe and focusing on defence, so there were high hopes and expectations for the third period. Especially when the Demons had several near misses, with more attempts on goal than their opponents.

‘Come on, guys.’ Hunter’s booming voice and the thump of his hands clapping as he willed the Demons to score didn’t make it easy for Charlotte to concentrate on what was going on inside the rink instead of the decoration around it.

‘You must miss this.’ She hadn’t meant to say it aloud when they’d seen the rest of the game out in virtual silence but he was so involved, animated on behalf of the team, it occurred to her how hard it probably was to no longer be part of the action. He’d skated on this very ice, played for this very team, and seen out the last days of his career here. She’d only been a fan so her position was akin to a lottery win in some aspects while his could be seen as a demotion, standing on the sidelines now.

The roar of outrage from around the arena after a high stick incident against one of their players drowned out her observation.

‘What’s that?’ Hunter didn’t take his eyes off the play but leaned down so he could hear her better.

She swallowed. This wasn’t supposed to be a thing, it was simply her mouth opening before she’d realised. Now he was standing so close to her she could almost feel the rasp of his stubble against her cheek.

‘I...er...was just saying you must miss this.’ It sounded so feeble the second time around it really wasn’t worth repeating.

Of course he missed it. Hockey had been his career, his life at one time. It had been a stupid thing to say, right up there with the people who asked her if she missed her mother. Duh. Generally not unless someone brought her up and made Charlotte realise how incomplete her life was without her in it. Now she’d done the same thing to him.

‘Sorry. I should be following the game too, not chatting.’

For the first time since face-off he focused his full attention on her, his eyes bright and his smile wide. Enough to make her stop breathing.

‘I do miss it. However, as has been pointed out to me, I’m probably more of a hindrance than an asset to the team these days.’ His mischief-making brought the heat to her cheeks, and everywhere else.

To all intents and purposes he was the team’s new signing, doing his best to fit in, and she’d acted the superior know-it-all, making life difficult for him. She didn’t know this man yet she’d made preconceived judgements and behaved accordingly when he’d been nothing but friendly in the face of her childishness. For someone who was all about equal rights in the workplace she knew she wouldn’t have been so forgiving if a colleague had been so awful to her for no apparent reason. A little teasing in return wasn’t something she should complain about.

For a second she thought about apologising. The truth was, he was an asset. He’d treated all those on the injury list the way any experienced physiotherapist would have. She’d checked. It was her, letting her personal embarrassment over an old crush get in the way of a harmonious working relationship.

In the end she kept her mouth shut because she didn’t trust herself not to blab about her past devotion for him when she was looking into those eyes that had once stared at her from her bedroom wall. Worse, she might go the other way and insult him again so he didn’t realise she was having inappropriate thoughts about him.

She had to block him out of her sight and focus back on the game, something she’d never had any trouble doing before. Usually it was more a case of not losing herself in the match and making sure she was watching the players for signs of injury. Sometimes separating Dr Michaels from fan-girl Charlie took a great deal of effort.

The dizzying pace of the players covering the ice was as heart-pumping as it got for her. The hard-hitting alpha males and the danger of the sport had always been like catnip to a girl whose life had become so troubled and lonely. That was probably why she’d been instantly drawn to Hunter the first time she’d attended a game. Everything about him had said danger and excitement.

It still did.

The hairs prickled on the back of her neck and she knew Hunter was close again before he even spoke.

‘Is there something wrong with Anderson I should know about?’

The object of his concern was already on her radar, a bit more sluggish than usual, which was worrying when he was their star player.

‘He has missed a few training sessions lately, which would account for him being more breathless than usual. His fitness needs working on. I’ll put a word in with Gray, if he hasn’t already picked up on it himself.’ She doubted she’d have to point anything out. Anderson was popping up on everyone’s radar lately with his diva attitude. As top goal scorer they’d let his stroppy behaviour slide but now it was affecting his performance someone was going to have to take him to task.

‘Hmm. It looks more serious than that to me.’

Anderson had been making rookie mistakes all night, getting caught offside and hooking the opposition with his stick in full view of the ref.

‘I assure you he’ll get a full physical after the game and if I find any areas for referral I will let you know.’ This was her jurisdiction and it didn’t matter who the new physio was, she was still the medical lead.

They watched Anderson shoulder-charge everyone out of his path. With the giant chip perched there these days it wasn’t difficult to do.

‘And if the problem’s mental, not physical?’ Hunter crossed his arms, his shirt tightening and vacuum-packing his biceps in white cotton.

‘Well, it would also be down to me to make that judgement call.’

Not you. Back off.

He smirked and shook his head. Charlotte tried to ignore it but he was so far under her skin he’d burrowed right into her bones.

‘What?’ she finally snapped, the thought of her past infatuation sneering at her too much to take.

‘I get it. You’re the sheriff in this here town and I’m merely your deputy.’ He tipped his imaginary Stetson and she conceded a small smile. Well, it was better than swooning after that image and a Southern drawl double whammy.

‘And don’t you forget it.’

They locked eyes for a second too long, the laughter giving way to something more...serious. She looked away first and let the background game noise fill in the gaps in conversation. Just when it seemed as if they were starting to bond, stupid chemistry, or stupid rejuvenated teenage hormones, tried to turn it into something she didn’t want, or need, in her life.

Before she was tempted to take another peek at him, a face was mashed into the Perspex in front of her, the violent thud shaking the very ground beneath her feet. The distorted features of a Cobra player slid down the glass, making her wince. She was always conflicted when it came to such territorial displays of male aggression. As a fan, it was a barbaric form of entertainment, watching your team dominate the other. As a medical professional, she understood the physical ramifications of such an impact and as the on-site doctor she’d be called on to treat any injuries caused to the opposition too. That was why she was standing here with her first-aid bag by her feet, for those players who couldn’t shake it off and get back on their feet.

The shrill peep of the ref’s whistle pierced the air.

‘What was that for?’ Charlotte demanded to know, along with most of the crowd rising from their seats as Anderson was reprimanded.

Hunter flinched. ‘He checked him from behind. That’s gonna cost him time in the penalty box.’

‘Oh. I didn’t see that,’ she said, cowed by her own mistake. She knew it was an illegal move because it carried a risk of serious injury but she couldn’t tell him she’d missed it because she’d been busy gawping at him.

‘I’m guessing he hoped everyone else had missed it too. Now what’s he doing? He messed up. He should own it and do the time.’ Hunter threw his hands up in despair as Anderson remonstrated with virtually everyone in authority as he made his way to the penalty box.

His gestures imitated that of a clearly frustrated Gray too as he yelled at his star player from the bench. The coach was a disturbing shade of purple as he fought to control his temper and she made a mental note to check his blood pressure.

Anderson’s penalty left the Demons short-handed for the dying minutes of the game and Charlotte held her breath with every other fan desperate to keep the dream alive. There were so many bodies in the goal crease as they fought for a victory it was difficult to make out who had possession. Until the klaxon sounded and the red light behind the net flashed, signalling a goal.

The Demons had defied the odds and claimed a win, sending the crowd into a furore, but Anderson’s mood didn’t improve when the game was over and he left the ice. He stripped off his kit and threw it piece by piece down the tunnel in temper as he clunked past Hunter and Charlotte, unleashing a string of expletives directed at no one in particular.

Despite his public celebration with the team on the ice after their narrow win, Gray’s demeanour changed too when he approached them. ‘I don’t know what the hell is wrong with Anderson but he needs sorting out before the next game. You two are supposed to be the experts around here. Find out what’s eating him and fix it, or don’t expect to be signing new contracts any time soon.’

‘Gray—’ Hunter tried to put a hand on his shoulder in an apparent attempt to calm him down but he shrugged it off.

‘I pulled a lot of strings to get you here, Hunter, and I expect a lot in return. I don’t care if you talk to him as an ex-pro, sports physician or a fellow maniac, it’s your job to get him match fit and right now he’s following in your footsteps to career suicide.’

She could almost hear Hunter’s heart fall into his shiny shoes with a thud as his so-called ally cut him down with a few cruel words. The hand of friendship fell slowly to his side, the pain of rejection chiselled into his furrowed forehead. Her previous disparaging comments aside, she kind of felt sorry for him. His past misdemeanours were always going to be thrown back in his face regardless of his subsequent achievements and acts of repentance.

‘There’s really no need for that, Gray.’ She put herself in Hunter’s position for the first time and thought how it might feel to have someone cast up the naivety of her youth. Horrendous. Soul-destroying. Unfair.

She’d spent a lifetime distancing herself from that person and if he was to be believed, so had Hunter. Switching careers from hockey pro to qualified sports therapist wasn’t something that would’ve happened on a whim. It would’ve taken years of dedication and determination. All of which was being cast aside as if it was nothing because someone was in a bad mood. Or because someone was deflecting the shame of their own past.

Gray held his hand up to stop her. ‘It goes for you too, Charlie. Fair or not, I need results. I’m sure you can come up with a diagnosis and treatment plan between the two of you. After all, that’s what you’re here for.’ With that, he spun on his heel and powered towards the changing room.

She lifted an abandoned puck from the ground and tossed it in her hand, tempted to lob it in his general direction. Two could let temper get the better of them.

Hunter caught it in mid-air. ‘You don’t want to do anything you might live to regret, Charlotte.’ That serious face said he was speaking from painful experience. One he’d never be allowed to forget.

She let her aggression subside with a sigh, partly due to his voice of reason and perhaps because he’d used her name for the first time. Everyone here called her Charlie, in keeping with her efforts to remain one of the guys. Her full name, in that accent, made her feel positively girly. Even in her game night layers of fleece and comfort.

‘He’d no right to say any of those things. At least, not the personal stuff. I guess he’s kind of right about the reason we’re here. He just didn’t have to be so rude about it,’ she huffed on his behalf, since he seemed determined not to rise to it. Not so long ago she imagined he wouldn’t have thought twice about charging down there after him and duking it out.

Perhaps he had changed. Perhaps he did deserve to have someone give him the benefit of the doubt. Then again, if his one friend here couldn’t let go of the past and fully trust him, why should she?

Hunter shrugged, those broad shoulders refusing to carry any more baggage upon them. ‘He’s right. He did call in a lot of favours for me. I owe him big time.’ Either he had really matured or he was putting on an award-winning performance to dupe her into thinking he had. Especially when she was the one chomping at the bit to retaliate.

She had to remind herself he didn’t owe her anything personally; there was nothing to be gained in convincing her he was anyone but himself, except to prove his commitment to the job.

‘So what do we do?’ Stitches and concussion she could deal with. A burly hockey player with his finger on the self-destruct button was out of her comfort zone.

‘I wouldn’t want to step on your toes...’ He held up his hands in mock surrender to her self-appointed superiority.

‘Okay, okay. If I have to tackle an irate man twice my size, I could use the backup.’

And because Gray had said so.

‘We can’t do anything until we’ve seen to everyone else. We’re going to have our work cut out for us back there, after that last scrum especially.’

‘Then what? The chances Anderson is waiting patiently back there for counselling, treatment or another rollicking are slim to none.’

They had no clue what was ailing him and from her experience thus far, hockey players were stubborn about admitting any weakness. There was definitely more of an ‘I can tough it out’ attitude to injury than she was used to from other athletes. It made her job that much more difficult when those niggling pains turned into something more serious left untreated.

If it was some sort of chronic or traumatic acute injury sometimes it could mean the end of a career. In which case, Anderson would be even less inclined to admit there was a problem. Male pride could be a terrible affliction if left unchecked.

‘You heard Gray. We have to find him.’

She let out her breath in a huff, which may or may not have had to do with his continual glances into the crowd.

‘Unless the Demons have taken to tracking their players, how on earth are we going to do that?’ By the time they finished up here he could be anywhere. It would be dark, and she would be more than a bit cheesed off with the whole drama. Especially when she was expected to do it with Mr Torrance and that brought him much too close for comfort.

‘If I know my hockey players, and the heart of any Northern Irish town, there’s only one place Anderson will be sitting his time out. Let’s hit the pub.’

If she didn’t love her job so much she would’ve left him to it but these were still her players, her patients, her team, and she wasn’t afraid of dropping the gloves herself to fight. It wasn’t only the Demons’ honour at stake here.

* * *

Not only was Gray frothing at the mouth despite the result but Hunter was struggling to find those feel-good endorphins too. It was his son’s first match, the first time he’d seen his father’s team in action, if not playing himself, and he hadn’t been able to share it with him.

‘Sorry I couldn’t sit with you tonight, bud.’ He managed to catch Alfie and his grandparents before they disappeared out of the arena and into the night.

‘That’s okay. Maybe we can come again?’ He glanced up at his guardians with the same hope Hunter was still clinging to.

‘We’re coming to the end of the season now but perhaps I could bring Alfie for a tour behind the scenes some time?’ It was a big ask, he knew, but if he was to win over his son he had to start fighting for time alone with him.

Alfie’s face lit up but his grandmother shut down the notion of any unauthorised trips with a stern ‘We’ll see’.

The light began to dim again before flaring back to life. ‘Maybe Dad could come back with us for supper?’

It was the first time Alfie had called him Dad and it choked Hunter up that he was even starting to think of him in that role. It killed him to have to let him down.

‘It’s getting late and I still have some work to do here. Another night, bud.’ He knelt down and Alfie rushed towards him, hugged him so tightly it brought tears to his eyes. He didn’t care he could barely breathe because he’d never been as happy as he was in this second. This was the beginning of the family he’d never had and the pieces were finally slotting into place.

‘Come on, Alfie. It’s bedtime.’

Although Hunter was thankful for the opportunities afforded him to get to know his son, he was looking forward to the days when there wouldn’t be a time limit set on their relationship.

He slowly and reluctantly peeled Alfie from around his neck. ‘I’ll see you again soon. You be good.’

The kiss he dropped on his son’s head inadequately expressed the love he felt for this child he’d been without for too long but it was all he had to give for now.

Someday they’d be watching the games and eating popcorn together before going home to their own house. Until then they’d have to snatch whatever time was granted by those who thought they knew what was best.

‘’Night, Dad.’

‘’Night, son.’ He waved the trio off, watching them safely across the road until he was too misty-eyed to make them out.

He sucked in a deep breath of the cool night air to fortify his aching heart and blinked away his sentimentality. It was time to focus on the positives. Alfie was happy and safe and he had a job to do. He’d prefer to keep it that way.

* * *

It was close to midnight before they were able to leave the arena. His, or Anderson’s, personal problems had to wait until the players who actually hung around after the game were properly cooled down. Ice baths and stretches were equally as important as the warm-up to keep the muscles in prime condition. He knew Charlotte had a few nicks and grazes to treat on both teams but nothing serious or unusual for men in close contact with sharp blades every day of the week. He came to knock on her door just as she was lecturing her last patient.

‘Remember: RICE. Rest, ice, compression—’

‘And elevation. I got it, Doc,’ a weary Evenshaw replied as she strapped up his ankle.

Hunter gave him a hand down off the bed and watched him limp away. ‘I hope that’s nothing serious.’

‘A slight sprain,’ she said as she packed away the dressings and other bits and bobs she’d used to patch players together again.

Now she’d ditched her zip-up outer layer he could see she was wearing a white round-neck T-shirt. It wasn’t a particularly remarkable piece of clothing, forgettable, if it wasn’t for the fact she’d unwittingly exposed her toned midriff as she’d yawned and stretched.

He coughed away the sudden surge of awareness heading south of the border. It had been a long time since he’d had the pleasure of seeing a female body who wasn’t a patient, otherwise he wouldn’t be responding like a virgin seeing a naked woman for the first time.

‘I hope you’re not too tired to go Anderson-hunting?’ Although it might be better if she was. Regardless of Gray’s insistence and the prospect this could somehow improve working relations between him and Charlotte, he was beginning to have doubts this was a good idea.

He kept losing focus when he was around her, not concentrating on the game or the arrival of his VIPs but watching spots of colour rise in her cheeks as he baited her. There’d also been that moment when she’d stood up for him against Gray. That had been unexpected. From both sides.

Clearly he and his one and only friend still had unresolved issues. Although Hunter knew Gray had said those things in the heat of the moment, there was truth behind them. He’d let him down in the past and though the words had hurt, he’d deserved them and Gray had needed to say them. He just hoped now he’d got it off his chest they could move on again. He wouldn’t dwell on it when he knew how much more pain could be caused by letting a grudge fester out of control. It had already ended one career and he didn’t think he had it in him to start over again if this didn’t work out.

No, it was Charlotte’s attitude that had been most surprising when she’d been the most outspoken about his reputation so far. Perhaps they were starting to make progress after all and she was no longer seeing him as the Ballydolan Demon come to life. Whatever it was, it had felt good to have someone on his side after all this time. Someone whose opinion of him appeared to be turning and she wasn’t afraid of saying it out loud.

‘Of course I’m not too tired,’ she snapped.

‘Of course you’re not,’ he replied. For a woman who appeared so delicate on the outside she wasn’t afraid of much. He got the impression she’d trawl the whole of Ireland even if she was dead on her feet if it meant sticking two fingers up at the doubters.

‘Where do we start?’ Charlotte was back at his side, refusing to let him forget her.

‘Wherever’s within walking distance.’ He set off at a brisk pace, determined to get this over with and get back to his bachelor pad as soon as possible. Minus company.

‘How do you know he hasn’t just gone home or taken a six pack off into the woods?’ Charlotte was almost running to catch up with him as she struggled back into that hideous jacket but he didn’t slow down for her. With any luck she’d get fed up and go home.

That was as likely as Anderson being tucked up in bed.

‘I know we Canadians are a hardy lot but we’re not stupid. That would mean having to go into the bar to buy booze and take it away. Dark woods might appeal to a brooding romantic hero but he’s a hockey player, he needs to blow off steam fast.’

‘He could have gone home like any other disgruntled employee after a hard day at work,’ she grumbled under her breath, but she didn’t know hockey players the way he did.

It was much easier to understand Anderson’s state of mind when you’d been there yourself. If he was anything close to following the same pattern he himself had, not only would he be somewhere, getting drunk quickly, he’d be spoiling for a fight to unleash some more of that aggression they’d witnessed earlier.

‘It’s possible but if we’re thinking logically, there are about six bars on the route back towards his house.’ He’d asked around for details, not that there were many forthcoming. Although he knew where Anderson resided there was little information about his personal life. It wasn’t because the players were reluctant to share with him—in that respect they seemed quite open to him, probably because of his hockey background. No, it seemed no one knew much about Anderson outside the team or alcohol-fuelled nights out. That in itself was dangerous. Hunter understood only too well how isolating it could be out here with no family around to catch you when you fell and pull you up by the scruff of the neck. Perhaps if he’d had someone do that for him he might’ve salvaged something of his sports career.

‘I don’t know why they need so many pubs in such a small space anyway,’ she bristled, every inch the reluctant partygoer, and he was beginning to wonder why she was so against the idea of calling in at the local establishments when it was the obvious place to start their search.

Maybe she was teetotal, although that seemed as far-fetched out here as leprechauns and their crock of gold.

‘So you have somewhere to go when you get kicked out of the last one?’ Well, that’s how he’d treated the place when he’d done his fair share of drinking and brawling here. Strangely, it had only seemed to ingratiate him more with the locals. Until he’d taken it too far, of course, and cost them the championship.

There was a very unladylike grunt behind him but he refrained from continuing the argument. Anderson was close by, he’d put money on it. The sound of the craic coming from behind the doors and the draw of the liquor would be too much to resist.

They started their bar crawl at The Ballydolan Inn, the first dingy building no bigger than one of the nearby cottages at the bottom of the hill. Once they made their way past the smokers outside they were hit with a wall of noise as the doors swung open. The deafening roar soon died down to a curious silence as the locals eyed them suspiciously. If this had been a Western his trigger finger would be itching, waiting for someone to make their move.

Voices rumbled low but Hunter caught the mutterings about ‘that hockey player’.

He scoured the interior, imagining an angry, drunk, Canadian forward would stand out in this crowd of regulars. When he saw nothing but curious Irish eyes staring back, he was ready to leave too. He wasn’t up for another round of twenty questions about his personal life after leaving this place under a dark cloud and turned to chivvy his companion back out onto the street. ‘Let’s try the next one.’

They received much the same welcome there at The Hillside Tavern.

‘Isn’t that the big hockey fella who went nuts a few years back?’

‘Aye.’

‘Thought he’d be dead by now.’

‘Used to play hockey. No longer nuts. Definitely not dead but very much older and wiser.’

Hunter tackled the rumours head on as they flew around him.

There was much more back-slapping after that, propelling them both towards the bar.

‘Glad to hear it.’

‘Sure you’ll have a wee drink for old times’ sake.’

It wasn’t long before a space was cleared at the bar for them.

‘Your local drinking establishment?’ Charlotte mocked with a raised eyebrow, finding difficulty imagining him partying in here during his time with the Demons. In her head he’d been living it up in the clubs in Belfast or exclusive house parties for the rich and famous. If she’d known he was only down the street she might have socialised a bit more herself.

‘Once upon a time. It hasn’t changed much.’

‘I doubt it’s changed at all in the last century.’ It still had the dark wood interior she remembered, permeated with the smell of the peat fire and sweat.

‘I suppose we should really find out if there’s more than one hockey player they’ve been doling out booze to tonight.’ She was beginning to see how easy it would be to fall into the drinking culture here. Honestly, there wasn’t much else to do at night. When the game had first come here over a decade ago it had been a godsend to the young inhabitants like her, giving them somewhere fun and exciting to go without getting into trouble.

He shook hands with the landlord. ‘Sorry, not tonight, Michael, I’m still on the clock. Have you seen one of ours in here? Anderson?’

‘There was a big, blond fella who talks like you in here earlier but he was a bit worse for wear. He made a nuisance of himself, to be honest. Spilt a few drinks, broke a few glasses. I had to chuck him out. Sorry, if I’d known he was with you—’

‘I’m sure he’ll not be too far away. How long ago was this?’

‘A good hour ago, I’d say.’

‘Thanks.’ Hunter grabbed her hand and bolted out the door with a renewed sense of urgency. The electric touch of his strong fingers clasping hers sent her pulse racing as they stole back out into the night.

He let go of her long after they had an excuse to be holding hands.

She absent-mindedly rubbed the palm of her hand where his had crossed it, mourning the loss of his touch already.

‘Do you really think we’re going to catch up with him?’ She was a little on edge, spending so much time with Hunter. Every minute together altered her perception of the man she’d loved and hated in equal measure without ever knowing him beyond his public image. It was unsettling to find out he was as normal as anyone else. She’d moved past her crush a long time ago but she was worried it might take her somewhere more dangerous than a shallow physical attraction if she wasn’t careful.

‘Oh, aye.’ His attempt at the local accent couldn’t fail to make her laugh and she was rewarded with a toothy grin.

She’d always thought him attractive—that was a no-brainer. What teenage girl wouldn’t have had her head turned by a handsome sportsman from a distant land? Finding out Hunter hadn’t the hero she’d imagined him to be had been the biggest betrayal of all. Her mistake had been compounded by watching him fall apart before her eyes in those last matches until he’d convinced her there wasn’t actually anything more than good looks and bad attitude there.

His short time back in the country was already beginning to change that opinion when he was doing whatever was asked for him to aid the team. That eye-opener spurred her on over the crest of the hill towards the old brick building with the faded green ‘Kelly’s’ sign.

She was saved from further personal revelations as a rather large, unkempt figure came barrelling out of the pub door to land at their feet on the pavement. It didn’t take a genius to work out what the cheer from inside and the sight of a burly barman dusting off his hands at the door meant.

‘Anderson?’ Hunter hunched down and brushed the dirty, bloody mop of hair out of the face of the unfortunate who’d been swiftly tossed from the premises.

‘That’s me,’ he said with a slur. ‘Gus Anderson. Man of the match. The crowd go wild.’

He was cheering now, swaying from side to side and pumping his fist in the air.

‘Someone’s got a high opinion of himself.’ Charlotte was having second thoughts about helping if he really was this deluded. He’d almost cost them the match, the play-offs and their very jobs tonight.

‘He’s wasted. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.’ Hunter struggled to get him onto his feet and although he didn’t ask her to, Charlotte felt compelled to help.

She ducked under one arm of their patient, bolstering his left side. He weighed a ton, even though she knew Hunter was probably shouldering most of the weight.

‘Er...now what? How are we supposed to fix this?’

‘We can take him back to my place.’ Hunter was already a bit breathless bench-pressing the man mountain so she hoped he lived somewhere close before all three of them ended up in a ditch by the side of the road.

They half dragged, half carried their wayward charge until they came to a cottage down the lane past Kelly’s.

‘This is your house?’ The pretty chocolate-box cottage and garden didn’t seem very him.

‘Here, hold him until I get the door open.’ He deposited most of Anderson’s bulk around her shoulders and stopped her asking any of the questions flooding her head as she fought to stop her body being concertinaed into the ground.

Are you renting? Did you inherit? Does your girlfriend live here with you?

In hindsight she suspected that was the very reason he’d been so ungentlemanly in the first place. Whatever the secret, he wanted to keep it to himself. Thankfully, once he opened the door and found the light switch, he shared the burden with her until they were able to dump Anderson into a nearby chair.

‘We’ll need to get him cleaned and sobered up.’ Gray would be expecting results and now under the glare of the living-room light she could see Anderson was a bit battered and bruised.

‘Let’s see if we can get him up to the bathroom.’ Hunter steered them towards a narrow staircase and they somehow managed to manoeuvre him into the shower cubicle, still fully clothed.

A grinning Hunter switched on the water and closed the bathroom door on Anderson’s shrieks as he underwent some sobering cold-water therapy. He backed out of the room, bumping into Charlotte in the cramped hallway. She stumbled back, tripping over the upturned edge of the faded hallway carpet. There was that helpless moment when she felt herself overbalance and tip over the edge of the staircase. All she could do was brace herself for the hard, painful landing she knew was coming.

Hunter shot out an arm around her waist, catching her before she fell off that top step and pulling her roughly against his chest, knocking the breath out of her.

‘Sorry. I thought we should get out while he’s cooling off. I didn’t mean to nearly break your neck in the process.’

Her adrenaline was pumping as much from the near miss as being pressed against his hard body.

‘You’re forgiven.’ She aimed for a friendly smile to hide the fact he’d unnerved her by being so close but her heart was pounding so hard she could no longer hear anything but the rush of blood in her ears.

For an instant their eyes locked, this intimate moment between the two of them frozen in time. His eyes darkened as they lit on her smiling lips and the conspiratorial joviality seemed to fade. He was watching her with such hunger, such focus there was no denying what it was he wanted, what he wanted to do to her. Just as before, she felt herself submit helplessly to gravity, only this time it was pulling her ever closer to his lips.

‘Hey, you guys are too cruel. What, are you like SAS trainers or something?’ Anderson yanked the door open and exploded the fantasy.

Hunter wrenched away from her so quickly he’d probably left friction burns in the carpet.

Charlotte was more appalled by her own behaviour. They’d almost kissed. Totally inappropriate with a work colleague, especially when there was every chance he was involved with someone else. So they hadn’t actually made lip contact but she was pretty sure the intention had been there on both sides and that was bad news all around. Clearly she hadn’t yet reached her lifetime’s worth of humiliation where this man was concerned.

‘I’ll get some coffee on the go.’ Hunter took the stairs two at a time in his obvious haste to get away.

She waited until she heard him banging about in the kitchen before she dared follow. At least Anderson, who’d ditched his sodden clothes for a bath towel, made for a distraction from the sudden atmosphere in the house.

She reached for her trusty first-aid bag, which she’d been carrying all night, predicting it would end in some sort of medical emergency, and pulled out an alcohol wipe to cleanse the deepest scratch on his face.

‘Ouch!’ He drew in a quick breath as if she’d poured salt into an open wound.

‘Seriously?’ She’d barely touched him and, with the stench of alcohol emanating through his very pores, she’d imagined he was probably numb from the scalp down.

‘It stings, man.’

‘Sorry. I’ll be as gentle as I can.’ Perhaps she’d been a tad more abrasive than she should have when she was angry at herself for the incident at the top of the stairs. She should know better than to let her personal feelings leak into her professional manner. Although Anderson was the reason she’d been thrown together with Hunter tonight, it wasn’t his fault she’d thrown herself at him.

‘What happened back there anyway?’ She tried to turn her thoughts back to her patient’s current predicament, not her own, but it was easier said than done when she could still imagine Hunter’s arms wrapped around her.

‘At a rough guess I’d say a disagreement with some Cobra fans. Am I right? That’s where the opposition hang out when they’re in town.’ Hunter handed him a mug of black coffee and offered her one without any indication this was in any way awkward for him after what had just occurred.

She declined. A nightcap of any description here wasn’t going to happen. Once she had her big, brave soldier patched up she was packing up and running back to the safety of her own house, where she could analyse the reasons behind that almost-kiss.

Her patient took a sip of the strong-smelling brew and winced. ‘Just some friendly rivalry.’

‘Hmm. Well, it looks like one of your new friends took serious offence to something you either said or did. That cut on your cheek is going to need stitching.’

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