The Mighty Quinns: Thom (3 page)

“I don’t know,” Jason said. “But I do know that if I show you where she lives and you go there, she’s going to fire me. Can you just sit down and we’ll order a pizza?”

“No,” Thom snapped. “I want this settled now.”

He walked to the front door, not bothering to wait for Jason. When he reached his truck, parked on the street, he got inside. As he slipped the key into the ignition, Thom heard a rapping on the window. Jason stood at the passenger door, a stricken expression on his face.

Thom unlocked the door and the kid hopped inside. “I can show you where she parks. We could wait for her there. She always leaves the office at five. If she has to work late, she comes back after dinner.”

“Five,” Thom said. They had fifteen minutes to make a ten-minute drive. At least it would give him a bit of time to figure out exactly what he wanted to say.

Hell, he should have known not to trust her. She wasn’t on his side. She was the daughter of the damn owner. Of course she’d side with her father. Well, he was going to fight this trade. Why lie down and let the team walk all over him? If he wanted to, he could make things very difficult for them.

He knew there was a morals clause in his contract, a section that directly addressed bad behavior. Beyond his youthful criminal record, Thom’s “rap sheet” was long and colorful. The brawls—with fellow players, with fans, with bartenders and limo drivers and bouncers and parking attendants—were probably the most egregious.

The women followed a close second. Though they didn’t cause as much legal trouble as the brawls, they were a distraction, especially when one decided to spill her secrets to a gossip website.

Until recently, Thom had been able to keep the drinking pretty much under control. But now, there seemed to be more reasons to drink than reasons not to. It wasn’t just something he did to relax anymore. Getting drunk was the only way he could shut off the constant hum in his head, turn off all the questions rattling round in his mind.

Life used to be pretty simple for him. He played hockey and he did it better than almost everyone in the league. It provided for him and his family. But now, it seemed that with every year that passed, his life grew more complicated. What would he do when he couldn’t play hockey anymore?

Thom had vowed that he’d get out of the game gracefully. He never wanted to be one of those guys who hung around trying to recapture lost glory. He wanted to go out on top. But how could he be sure the time was right? And what would he do once hockey was over for him?

“It’s right here,” Jason said, pointing to the parking ramp.

Thom turned into the entrance and grabbed a ticket, then steered the truck up the levels. “What kind of car are we looking for?”

“She has a dark green Audi. It’s usually on the fourth level.”

Thom found the car and pulled into a spot across the aisle from it. He shut off the truck, then nervously tapped the steering wheel with his fingertips. “What time is it?”

“A few minutes before five. She should be coming along any minute.” Jason slouched down in the seat. “What are you going to say to her?”

“I don’t know,” Thom said. The drive over had been too short to untangle the knot of emotions in his gut.

“Don’t you think you’d better figure it— Wait. Someone’s coming.”

“Is it her?”

“Yeah, it is.”

They each watched in their side view mirrors as Malin strolled past. Thom reached for the door and then, at the last minute, decided to wait. “She’s gorgeous,” he murmured.

“You think so?” Jason asked.

“Don’t you?”

“Well, she’s my cousin, so I really don’t look at her that way. And I’m really more attracted to brunettes than blondes.”

Malin got into her car and slipped behind the wheel. Thom held his breath, waiting for just the right moment. When she began to back out of the parking spot, he knew the moment was at hand, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to get out of the truck.

He didn’t want their next encounter to be an argument. And he certainly didn’t want it to happen in a parking lot with Jason looking on.

“She’s driving away,” Jason said.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t get it. Everybody says you’re legendary with women,” Jason murmured.

“Most of that is just talk,” Thom said. “Most of the time I have no idea what the hell they’re thinking. Or what I’m doing.” He reached for the ignition. “You know what? I could use a drink. Let’s go to a bar.”

“I’m not supposed to—”

“Jason, if we’re going to get along, you’re going to need to learn that the rules just don’t apply to us. Got it?”

2

S
LEEP
DIDN
’
T
COME
easily that night for Malin. Her head was filled with memories of the day’s events, which led to her mind weaving tantalizing little fantasies about Thom Quinn.

She’d never been attracted to one of the hockey players before, and she couldn’t explain this sudden attraction to Quinn. By all accounts, the guy was a mess. Yet it was hard to ignore his physical perfection, the handsome features, the unruly hair, the body that had been carved out of solid muscle.

After their meeting, she’d shut herself in her office and searched the internet for any information about him that wasn’t included in his personnel file. She came across plenty of shirtless photos, both professional and candid, along with a fair number of pictures of Quinn and his women. There were even a few of him when he was younger, hockey photos that showed a sweet-looking boy with a chipped front tooth and a ragged haircut.

She knew that unlike most of the league’s star players, Thom Quinn hadn’t laced on his first pair of skates until he was twelve. He’d struggled at first but quickly learned the game. It provided a lucky alternative to the street life that he’d been drawn to.

On the ice, Quinn was confident and strong, in command of all his talents and skills. But once he stepped off, he seemed to have nothing to hide behind, and his life fractured at the slightest stress. She realized he was still that screwed-up kid from the streets. Why was she the only one who recognized that fact?

She groaned softly and pulled the pillow over her head. This was crazy. The guy would probably be on a plane out of town by next week and she was quickly turning him into her imaginary boyfriend.

The sound of her cell phone ringing was muffled by the pillow. She threw it off the bed, then sat up and grabbed her phone. Jason’s number came up on the screen, and Malin fumbled to answer.

“Hi, Jason. What’s—”

“He’s gone,” Jason said, his voice wavering slightly. “We were just hanging out, watching a Cubs game, and I—well, I kinda—lost track of him. Just for a few minutes.”

“How long?”

“Since about nine. I thought he’d be back after the bar closed, but that was an hour ago.”

“You were in a bar?”

“We just stopped for a drink after we— Never mind. I tried to talk him out of it, but then we started playing dice and drinking shots and I got totally wasted.”

“Where are you now?”

“At his place. I’m so sorry. I tried to say no, but he’s very persuasive.”

“All right, just stay where you are. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Have you tried calling his cell phone?”

“He doesn’t answer. Do you think he might have been in an accident?”

“No, no! I’ll be there in a few minutes.” She turned off her phone and tossed back the bedcovers. It shouldn’t have been any surprise that it had taken Thom Quinn less than a day to break the rules.

She crawled out of bed. When she reached the bathroom, Malin ran a comb through her tangled hair and took a few extra seconds with her makeup, then pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a loose shirt.

Five minutes later she was on the road, and ten minutes later she pulled up in front of Thom Quinn’s place. At first she had to recheck the address. She was parked in front of an old firehouse. But when Jason appeared on the sidewalk, she knew she’d found the right place.

“I can’t do this job, Malin,” he said, pacing the sidewalk. “How am I supposed to sleep? And if he decides to go somewhere without me, how can I force him? He could just punch me and knock me out or—”

“Get you drunk?”

“Exactly! I think you picked the wrong person for this job. I’m just not ready.”

“Maybe we could put a bell around his neck,” she muttered as she stepped inside the front door. She dropped her bag on a nearby table, then slowly began to explore the house. “Wow,” she said with a gasp. “This place is—”

“I know,” Jason said. “He did all this himself. He’s my hero. If I could do something like this, my father would think I was amazing. He’d probably talk to me again.”

“Jason, why don’t you take off. I can handle this on my own. It would probably be better if you weren’t here when Thom got back.”

“Am I fired?” Jason asked.

“No. Just reassigned. This one was always going to be tricky. It just turned out to be more difficult than I thought.”

“Tommy’s angry because he saw on the news that they’re going to trade him. He said you lied to him. Is he going to be traded?”

She shrugged. “Probably. But I’m going to make the case for him to stay if he’ll cooperate and if I can get a few more people to back me. It could be our little project.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because if I were the general manager of this club, I’d find a way to turn him into a hero off the ice as well as on it. He can be fixed, and I’m the one to do it. And when it’s time for me to run this club, people will remember how I saved Tommy ‘The Beast’ Quinn.”

Jason laughed. “You want to be general manager? That’s pretty funny.”

She gave him a withering glare, shaking her head. “Would you like to rethink that statement?”

“Sorry,” Jason said. “I’ll just be going.”

“Can you drive?”

He nodded. “I really am sorry. And I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

Malin walked Jason to the front door, then locked it behind him. Leaning back against the wood, she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. With Jason acting as a buffer, it would have been easier for her to keep a professional distance. But less than twenty-four hours after reaching an agreement with Thom, he’d broken it—and she was forced to step in. It was clear he needed a firmer hand, a more determined personality.

Malin wasn’t about to let one little bump in the road deter her. She wouldn’t stop until she’d achieved her goal. She’d tame The Beast or die trying.

Proving her worth to her father had been a lifetime challenge. Her older brothers had it easy. Hockey was a natural fit for them, and they’d played from the time they could balance on skates until they’d been brave enough to quit. The eldest, Daniel, was now a resident in cardiac surgery, and her other brother, Kristian, worked as an attorney for the US Justice Department. They had no interest in running the team. But the moment her father had called, she’d left a prestigious job in New York to take her chances with the team.

She walked back to the kitchen, taking in the details of Thom Quinn’s home. It certainly wasn’t what she’d expected. Most of the single guys on the team lived in one of the city’s luxury high-rise condos. But Thom’s home showed his artistic side. He was obviously good with his hands. Malin groaned. His hands again. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about his hands.

She tried to refocus on his home. The place had never been profiled in any of the city’s glossy magazines, even though it deserved to be. With her media contacts, she could get an article placed in the next few months.

She wandered through the old fire station, taking in all the details, trying to imagine how a photographer might shoot it.

The cream-colored brick walls were exposed throughout the entire building, and massive wood beams supported each wall. At one time the lower level must have housed horses, because Thom had left the old sliding doors in place.

She paused just inside his bedroom door, wondering if her tour ought to stop there. She was interested in the decor, but there were too many other things that came to mind when she glanced inside his bedroom.

The room was huge, spacious and airy, with a huge bed against one wall. She took a few steps further so she could see inside his bathroom—floor-to-ceiling dark gray marble with a steam shower and a whirlpool tub. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she crossed to the line of bottles on a glass shelf beside the sink.

The cologne held a hint of citrus with a tantalizing cover of musk. She smiled as she set the bottle back in place.

“You’re the last person I expected to see here.”

Malin jumped at the sound of Thom’s voice, the bottle clattering against the glass shelf. She spun around to find him watching her from the doorway of the bathroom. He leaned casually against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest.

Malin held her breath as he slowly crossed the room to stand beside her. He stared at her in the mirror. “Jason called you?”

She nodded. “You got him drunk?”

“He did that all on his own.” Thom paused. “Besides, he wasn’t cut out for the job. He’s too young, too impressionable.”

“You got him drunk to prove a point?”

“I just couldn’t live with the guy,” Thom admitted. “He’s like a big drooling puppy. I need someone a little more interesting. More mature. With less drool.”

“All right. We’ll find someone else. I can contact an agency and they’ll send over some candidates.”

“I can think of an excellent candidate,” he said. “Perfectly qualified. Interesting to talk to. Stubbornly disciplined. Beautiful to look at.”

“You want a woman?”

He gave her a boyish grin. “I want you.” He leaned closer and grabbed her hand. “The question is, do you want me?”

She drew in a sharp breath and tried to control the pounding of her heart. This was crazy. But it could be a great opportunity. If she was with him full-time, she might have a chance at succeeding in taming The Beast.

But was he making the offer because he truly wanted her help? Or was he interested in something else? Something that had nothing to do with business or professionalism or...

Still, she had to take that chance.

“If I agree to do this, you have to do exactly what I tell you. You have to trust me completely.”

“Why should I trust you if you don’t give me the truth?” he asked.

“I told you, the team—”

“Not about that. You didn’t answer my question.” He leaned closer and she held her breath. “Do you want me?”

“The truth and you’ll trust me?”

“Exactly.”

His lips were just inches from hers, and Malin fought the impulse to close that distance and kiss him. “Yes,” she breathed.

His kiss was tentative at first, his lips just barely brushing hers. But then he slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her closer, and she felt the warmth of his tongue.

Malin had been kissed by a variety of men in her past, but she’d never experienced a kiss that was so perfect. Just the right mix of overwhelming passion and unspoken desire.

When he finally drew back, she couldn’t help but sigh, wishing that it might have gone on for a bit longer.

“Well?”

She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her, his expression cool, his lovely mouth set in a hard line. Malin cleared her throat. “It was...nice.” She swallowed hard. “Quite pleasant. But if I’m going to take the job, we can never do that again.” She snatched her hand away and rubbed her palm against her hip. “You have to promise.”

“I’ve never been very good with promises,” he said, his voice low and rough. Thom reached out and smoothed his fingertips across her cheek. “I’m tired. I need some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

As he walked away, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Malin hurried after him into the bedroom. She stopped short as she watched him skim his jeans down over his hips and kick off his trainers. When he reached for the waistband of his boxer briefs, she quickly turned her back.

“If we’re going to be living together, you should probably get used to this.”

Get used to what, exactly?
Malin wondered. Get used to seeing him half-naked? Get used to hanging out in his bedroom at night? Get used to wondering what it would be like if she allowed him to kiss her again? There were so many things racing through her mind, she couldn’t imagine what he meant.

“I’ll just say good night,” she murmured. “And see you in the morning.” She risked one last glance at him as she hurried out of the room. It was enough to glimpse him in all his naked glory, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist and muscular backside, before he slipped beneath the covers.

She pulled the bedroom door shut behind her, then hurried back to the living room. She stood in the center of the dimly lit room, waiting for her heartbeat to slow and her head to clear.

The image was still burned on her brain, and she sighed softly and savored it for a long moment. Then she firmly put it out of her mind.

* * *

A
FTER
THE
EVENTS
of the day, Thom assumed he’d fall into a deep sleep almost immediately. But every time he closed his eyes, his thoughts returned to the woman he’d invited into his home.

When he finally drifted off, images of Malin continued to tease at his mind. Then he awakened and realized that she was so close, close enough to call her name, close enough to find her and carry her into his bed.

Women had a very specific place in his life, a purely sexual place. He’d had a number of affairs over the years, but they’d never lasted long. Sooner or later, women realized that he never had any intention of truly opening himself up to them.

Something as simple as affection had never been present in his childhood, and he didn’t find it necessary in his adult life, either. Pure desire didn’t require romance to burn hot and intense.

Maybe Malin was right to keep their relationship on a platonic, businesslike level. He wasn’t capable of romance, and she didn’t strike him as the type who’d indulge in carnal pleasures without it. Hell, in his experience, no woman was truly happy to avoid romance in favor of simple physical pleasure.

Thom tossed aside the covers and grabbed a pair of sweatpants, tugging them up around his hips before wandering out to the kitchen. He found Malin curled up on the sofa.

He squatted down beside her and took the opportunity to study her face. He hadn’t realized how much her emotions colored her expressions. In sleep, she looked like a teenager, young and fresh-faced, a light sprinkling of freckles visible across the bridge of her nose.

He felt the familiar pull, the need to possess her, to touch her and seduce her, to prove that the desire he felt was mutual, even though she’d already admitted it was. Thom reached out and took a strand of her pale hair, rubbing it between his fingers.