Interesting question, he thought as he tilted his head and studied Jane. How did he feel about it? Sometimes he hated it as much as Hall had. Sometimes it was better than sex. “On the ice I am very focused and competitive. There is no greater feeling than when I’m in my zone, blocking shots and snagging pucks from midair. Yeah, I love what I do.”
She wrote something in the notebook, then flipped the page. She raised the pen and pressed it to her bottom lip, drawing Luc’s attention to her mouth.
There was something about Jane that intrigued him more than any woman he’d ever known. Something more than the contradictions between Jane the prude, and the Jane who kissed like a porn queen. Something that made him want to run his fingers through her shiny curls and hold her face in his palms. Luc had been with many beautiful women in his life, physically perfect women, but he’d always been in control of his desire. Except with Jane. Skinny little Jane, with her small breasts and wild curls and deep green eyes that could look through him and see that he was up to absolutely no good. Ever since the night of the banquet when he’d kissed her, he’d envisioned taking off her clothes and exploring her body with his hands and mouth. He’d tried to avoid her, and instead he’d come close to having sex with her against a parking garage wall. And his desire for her had only gotten stronger over the past few days.
Watching her now, with her soft skin and shiny hair, he wondered why he should avoid her at all. She was in his life. She wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was he. They were both adults. If he ended up with his mouth on her breasts while buried deep in her warm wet body, well, there was absolutely nothing wrong with two adults giving each other pleasure. In fact, it was probably just what they both needed. He lowered his gaze to the front of her blouse and the thrust of her small breasts. He knew it was just what he needed.
The telephone next to Luc rang, interrupting his study of Jane’s breasts. He picked up the receiver, and it was Marie, telling him that she would be spending the night at Hanna’s. “Call me in the morning,” he said and hung up.
“Marie?”
“Yes. She’s staying at Hanna’s.”
Jane turned toward him, pulling one knee on the couch and leaning a shoulder into the cushion next to his hand. “Do you want to talk about Marie?”
“No. I wouldn’t want to say anything that would make her life any harder.”
“I think that’s wise.” She glanced at the notepad, then looked up at him again. “When you look into the future, where do you see yourself?”
Luc hated that question. He was just trying to survive the season without injury, and he didn’t like to think too far ahead. One play, one game, one season, that’s as far as he liked to look. “I figure I’ll have time to decide what to do with my life once I retire.”
“When do you think that will be?”
“I’m hoping I have at least five more years. Maybe more.”
“You are notorious for not giving interviews. Why are you so hesitant to talk with reporters?”
Luc brushed his fingers across her arm. “Because they usually ask the wrong questions.”
She watched his fingertips slide to her shoulder, and her lips parted on a soft breath. “What are the right questions?”
He placed his fingers beneath her chin and brought her gaze to his. “Ask me again why I don’t want you traveling with the team.”
“Why?”
He slid his thumb across her bottom lip. “Because you drive me insane.”
“Oh,” she whispered.
He reached for her tape recorder and shut it off. “I thought if I quit looking around for you, I would forget you. I thought if I avoided you, I could get you out of my head. But it didn’t work.” He took the pad of paper and pen from her hand and tossed them on the floor. Then he indulged himself and brushed his fingers through the soft curls at her temples. “I want you, Jane.” He leaned forward and held her face in his palms. He rested his forehead against hers, and to make sure she understood him completely, he added, “I want to strip you naked and kiss you all over.”
Her eyes widened. “Just last night you were really angry with me.”
“Mostly I was angry with myself because I’d made you feel like a groupie.” He brushed his mouth across hers. “I want you to know that I don’t think for one second that you’re a groupie. I know who you are, and despite my best attempts to ignore you, I can’t.”
He softly kissed her lips, then pulled back to look deep into her eyes. “I want to make love to you, and if you don’t stop me now, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, but she didn’t pull away.
“Why?”
“Because I’m a reporter traveling with you. With the Chinooks.”
He kissed the corner of her mouth and felt her melt a little. “You better come up with a better reason than that within the next three seconds or you’re going to find yourself very naked very soon.”
“I’m not one of your Barbie Dolls. I don’t have long legs or big breasts. I can’t compete with that.”
Again he pulled back to look into her eyes, and he might have laughed if he hadn’t seen that she was serious. “It’s not a competition.” He pushed her hair behind one ear.