Love and Other Games (10 page)

"Do I pass inspection?" he asked with a cocky grin that showed off not only his perfect, white teeth, but his dimples, too.

Brenna gave herself a mental kick in the ass for staring at him too long. "Mr. Campbell, I presume," she said, trying to regain her composure. Wow! He looked so much better in person than he did in those Google images she'd found of him. Yes, she'd Googled Colton Campbell during the cab ride to the airport. In her defense, she knew squat about hockey or any of the players on the team, and it was unprofessional to attend a shoot of this magnitude without knowing a little something about her clients.

"It's Cole, ma'am," he said with a slight incline of his head.

Was that a southern accent she heard? It was faint, but unmistakable. Ma'am, a subtle nod … yup, Colton Campbell was a southern boy. Huh, who knew? "Right, Cole." She cleared her throat. She was so totally screwed. There was only one type of man on this earth that made Brenna weak in the knees—a southern man.

"So, you've heard of me, huh?" Cole said with a smirk. "Wish I could say the same about you." His gaze lingered on hers for a moment before lowering.

Brenna rolled her eyes. "Well, you do have quite the reputation." She stood.

"Going somewhere?"

"Yes, I'd like to go use the restroom. Now, if you'll please excuse me."

"Don't let me stop you." Cole remained seated, his long legs bent at the knees, touching the seat in front of him, making it impossible for Brenna to get by him—unless she were to climb over him, and she refused to do that.

Brenna crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Do you mind?"

"No, not at all." He laced his fingers together and rested them on his stomach, settling deeper into his seat. "I'm used to women staring at me. Go ahead, get your fill."

"Uh!" she huffed. Brenna knew Cole had a playboy reputation, rivaled only by his arrogance, but for the love of God, was he serious right now? One look at his handsome features and she knew he was teasing her. Well, she'd be damned if she let him get the better of her. "For your information, Mr. Campbell, I'm staring at you because I can't wrap my mind around your complete lack of manners." Brenna cautiously stepped over him.

"A complete lack of manners would be doing this." Cole lifted his knee and bumped her ass, causing her to lose her balance and fall forward.

It happened so fast all she could do was put her hands out and grip the back of Cole's seat. Her hands were on either side of his head, her legs straddling his, and their faces were inches apart. Christ, did he have to smell so good? She started to push herself away, but Cole shifted his legs just enough so she couldn't move. Damn him and those tantalizing lips—they were so close, she could almost taste them.

"I don't find this amusing," she said.

The corners of his mouth twitched, and he cocked a brow. "Arousing?"

"Annoying."

Cole leaned forward and put his mouth to her ear. "Five minutes says I can change your mind."

Five minutes? She'd be lucky if she could last five seconds alone with him. Her nipples hardened at the thought, her panties damp with desire. Damn it all to hell, why did her body have to betray her? She inhaled sharply through her nose, the scent of his cologne teasing her nostrils. "The count of three says you're going to let me go or my knee is going to plant itself in your," her gaze darted to his crotch, "package." And oh, what a nice, large package it was.

"You don't have to threaten me with violence, love. If you want to touch, all you have to do is ask."

"Let me assure you, Mr. Campbell, the last thing I want to do is touch you."
That's right, Brenna, keep spouting off at the mouth and you're going to end up pissing off the client.

"We'll see about that." He winked then moved so that she could finally get by him.

Once in the aisle, Brenna took a deep breath, smoothed her hands down her hips, and with her head held high, she walked toward the restrooms. She could feel his gaze following her and she wanted to look back, to confirm that he was in fact watching her, but that would only encourage him. Instead, she kept looking straight ahead and acted as if everything that just happened was an annoyance. And it was in a way, but if she were being honest, she was more annoyed with herself for her reaction than she was with Cole.

Brenna hurried into the bathroom and locked the door. She let out the breath she'd been holding. During her meeting with the team manager earlier, he'd told her to stay close to Cole because he was the "next big thing." She didn't want this job in the first place, and now she had to spend it with
him
? Things couldn't possibly get any worse.

What the hell was wrong with that woman? Cole wondered as he stood in the community center, watching people trickle in for the welcome party. He hadn't been able to get her off his mind, and that irritated the crap out of him. Shit, he hadn't even gotten her name. That was unusual for him. She, whoever the hell
she
was, acted as if she could care less that she was at the Olympics. Or that she was in the presence of the world's best athletes. And don't even get him started on her attitude toward him. It was unfathomable. He hadn't been turned down cold like that since he was a high school freshman.

"Hey! Asstard!" Jason shouted.

Cole grinned. "What's up fuck face?" he said, giving Jason a fist bump.

Jason was the team goalie, and Cole's best friend. They hadn't known each other before they'd met on the team, but they'd become fast friends. That was to be expected when he spent all of his time on the ice with the same group of guys. The entire team was close, like brothers, but Cole and Jason had really hit it off; probably because they both liked to party and pick up women. What made it even better was that they never competed for women. Jason liked curvy blondes, whereas Cole preferred brunettes with more of an all-natural, homegrown look.

"How's the selection?"

Cole laughed. "So far so good," he said, surveying the women who were already present. He was glad he'd put on his favorite hunter green sweater. It was the last gift his grandmother had given him before she died, and it had quickly become his lucky sweater." And it just got better."

The woman from the plane walked in looking hot as hell. She wore a pair of gray dress pants that hugged every curve of her hips, thighs, ass, and legs. A pink, form-fitting blouse with the top two buttons undone showed off her generous breasts. Cole looked down at his hands, and then back up at her. Her tits weren't huge, but they were a solid handful, which was just perfect in his opinion. Dark brown, almost black, curls hung loosely around her shoulders and face, accenting her gorgeous features. Big, hazel eyes; a pert, little nose; high cheekbones and full, pink lips sat perfectly proportioned on her petite, tanned face.

"Who's that?" Jason asked, following Cole's gaze.

"I don't know, but she's off limits to you, man."

"She's not my type anyway."

Cole smiled. "Catch ya back at the room later," he said, walking toward the woman. As he got closer, he noticed a black strap draped over her shoulder, an expensive looking camera hung from it. "So, you're a photographer, huh?" he said as he approached. Cole winced.
Nice line, captain fucking obvious! What the hell was wrong with me? I was not one of
those
guys who said stupid shit to hot girls. Then again, I'd never encountered a woman as cold as her either. I was used to having women throw themselves at me. This was uncharted territory.

"Hello again, Mr. Campbell," she said with a polite nod, and then looked away.

Christ, she was like a goddamned iceberg. "Hello … ?" he trailed off, waiting for her to finally say her name.

"Brenna Jessup."

He was momentarily stunned, but quickly recovered and said, "Brenna … that's a beautiful name."

She rolled her eyes and turned to face him. "Thank you." Her tone was clipped. He didn't think she was very sincere. "Look, Mr. Campbell, as much fun as it was to be accosted by you on the plane, I'm here in a strictly professional capacity, and I would appreciate it if you'd just let me do my job."

Cole crossed his arms over his chest and studied her for a moment. There was only one thing in the world he loved more than attention—a challenge. And she'd just thrown down the gauntlet. It was a game she wouldn't win. But, oh, the fun he would have making her think she could.

He took a step back and put his hands up in a show of surrender. "Hey, I just wanted to say I was sorry for how I acted on the plane."

Her eyes narrowed. "I didn't realize the mighty Cole Campbell knew how to apologize."

Damn, she was cold.
The corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile. "I know how, I've just never had to before. Then again, I've never met anyone without a sense of humor before, either."

"I have a sense of humor," she said with a tight smile. "I just don't find
you
very amusing."

"Not many people do," he said after a pause. "I’m an acquired taste." Cole winked, leaned against the wall, and tucked his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, well, I've never had a taste for bullshit," Brenna said, looking around the party as if she were bored with him.

Wow! She didn't pull any punches, did she?
He studied her for a moment. It was obvious none of his normal tricks were going to work with her. He'd have to figure out a different way to crack through her icy exterior. "That's a pretty impressive camera." When all else failed, turn the conversation to something she just couldn't help but talk about. "What kind is it?"

"A Canon EOS 7D," she said slowly, her tone full of skepticism. "What do you know about cameras anyway?"

Now he had her. "Not much, really, other than I like to be in front of them, not behind them." He grinned.

Brenna shook her head and slowly lifted her camera to take a picture. "If I indulge you, will you leave me alone?"

"Probably not." Cole flashed his best smile just as she took the picture. "There wasn't a flash," he said a bit surprised. "What if you were taking pictures in a dark room? They wouldn't come out would they?" Up until that moment, he could've cared less about cameras or photography, but he was mildly intrigued. Plus, the more he talked about them, the longer he got to be around her.

"The lens is an EF 300mm f/2.8 L IS USM. It's the best on the market for taking action shots and sports photography. And you can adjust the aperture and shutter to compensate for the flash."

"The what?"

"Like this."

Cole watched as she adjusted the settings on the camera, explaining everything as she went along in very technical terms that he didn't understand. But he didn't really care. The expertise and passion in her voice was enough to make him want to pay attention. When she took another picture, the flash went off. He was impressed. "Can I try?"

"Uh, no."

"Aww, c'mon, I just want to take one picture."

"This is a very expensive piece of equipment, Mr. Campbell. It's not a toy."

He sighed. Things had been going so well, but now he was back to being Mr. Campbell and she was back to being an ice queen. A plan—more of a prank, really—began to take form in his mind. "Thanks for the photography lesson. Can I buy you a drink?"

"There's no alcohol allowed in the Olympic village."

"I know that, but don't you drink water or soda or something? Or are you a raging alcoholic?" He grinned. "That would explain a lot." He laughed. She didn't. "Oh, c'mon, think of it as a peace offering."

After a moment, she said, "Fine, I'll take some water. Thank you."

Her tone had softened a little. Again. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard after all. That thought slightly disappointed him. He was looking forward to the challenge. "Hang tight, I'll be right back." Cole sauntered toward the closest food vendor and bought two bottles of water.

"Should I find another place to sleep tonight?" Jason asked.

Cole turned to look at him. "I figured you'd have already found one."

Jason laughed. "Not yet, but that chick's eyes were glued to you as you walked away."

Well, well, well, was it possible the ice queen was just playing hard to get? Cole sighed. "I hate to say it, but I think it's going to take me a day or two to crack that one."

With a cocked brow, Jason said, "Losing your touch?"

Cole shook his head and smirked. "Nah, she's just being difficult. You know how much I like a challenge." He grabbed the bottles of water from the counter and took off.

Brenna was standing in the same place Cole had left her. She was busy snapping pictures of the party and various athletes. Cole hung back for a moment watching her. Every time she'd focus in on a new subject, her lips would purse and her eyes would squint. It was attractive in a nerdy sort of way. Once she lowered the camera, Cole approached. He handed her a bottle of water.

"Thanks," she said, twisting off the top and taking a sip.

The way her lips parted, and then glistened from the water sliding past them had the crotch of his jeans tightening. He frowned. That was just perfect. Hanging out at the welcome party with a massive erection wasn't something he really wanted to do—especially considering this woman probably wouldn't be willing to help him out with it. Okay, he had to get rid of it. He forced a mental image of his aunt Sandy, who was a hundred pounds overweight and the queen of spandex. Yup. That did it. Problem solved.

"You're welcome," Cole said after a moment, taking a drink of his own water to cool his overheated body. "Well, enjoy your evening." He turned on his heel and walked away. There was no denying the attraction he'd seen in her eyes on the plane earlier. But, if she wanted to play hard to get, so be it. He was the master of that game.    

***

The evening progressed as Cole expected it would. He'd been approached by tons of photographers and reporters, but the one woman whose attention he wanted acted as if he didn't exist. Talk about a hit to the ego. Maybe Jason was right. Maybe Cole was losing his touch.