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He took a few steps back. “This wasn’t one of my better ideas.”

More noise from the tunnel, and he said, “I think we might be stuck in here for a while yet.” He grabbed an empty five-gallon bucket and turned it over for her to sit on. “Sorry.”

She knew she should be sorry too. She had a deadline. She was stuck in a closet with Luc, and if discovered, it could be bad for both of them. She wasn’t that sorry, though.

She sat on the bucket and looked up at Luc towering over her. He stared back from beneath heavy lids, and she slid her gaze down his maroon tie, past his black belt, to the zipper of his pants. He was fully erect. She could recall with perfect clarity what he looked like naked. Hard body, harder penis, and hard-to-resist Lucky tattoo. Suddenly she wasn’t certain that a repeat of last night was such a bad plan. Not, however, she thought as she placed the briefcase by her side, in a janitor’s closet. “How’s your sister?” she asked, changing the subject along with the train of her unruly thoughts. “I know she liked her hair yesterday, but it’s always a shock the next day.”

“What?” Luc looked down into Jane’s green eyes and couldn’t believe the abrupt shift of her thoughts. Just a second ago, she’d been staring at his dick, and he hadn’t mistaken her interest. Now she wanted to talk about his sister. “She was fine when I saw her at lunch.”

“We talked a bit about her mother the other day.”

Luc took a few steps back and leaned his shoulder into the door. “What did she say?”

“Not all that much, but she didn’t have to. I know how she feels. My mother died when I was six.”

He hadn’t realized Jane had been that young when she’d lost her mother, but he wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t known. All he really knew about her was that she worked for the Seattle Times, lived in Bellevue, and had a quick wit and nerves of steel. He liked her laugh and he liked talking to her. Her skin was as soft as it looked. All over. She tasted good to him. Everywhere. He knew she was good between the s

heets, better than good. She’d worn him out, and all he’d been able to think about since he’d woken that morning was how to get her to do it again. Now that he thought about it, he guessed he knew more about Jane than he knew about a lot of women. “I’m sorry about your mother.”

A sad smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Thank you.”

Luc slid down the door until he sat on the floor at Jane’s feet. His knees almost touched her. “Marie’s having a hard time, and I don’t know what to do about it,” he said, purposely turning his thoughts to his sister and her problems. “She won’t talk to a counselor.”

“You’ve tried?”

“Of course, but she quit going after two sessions. She’s moody and unpredictable. She needs a mother, but obviously I can’t give her that. I thought she might be better off at boarding school with other girls her age, but she thinks I’m trying to get rid of her.”

“Are you?”

He unbuttoned his blazer, then hung his wrists over his knees. He never talked about his personal life, not with anyone outside of his family, and he wondered what it was about Jane that made him talk to her-a reporter. Maybe because, for some reason he didn’t begin to understand, he trusted her. “I don’t think I’m trying to get rid of her. Maybe I am, though. Either way, I’m a bastard.”

“I’m not judging you, Luc.”

He looked into her clear eyes and he believed her. “I want her to be happy, but she isn’t.”

“No, she isn’t, and she won’t be for some time. I’m sure she’s scared.” She tilted her head to one side and her curls fell away from her face. “Where’s Marie’s father?”

“Our father died about ten years ago. I was living in Edmonton with my mother at the time. Her mother and my father were living in LA.”

“So you know about losing a parent.”

“Not really.” His hand slid from his knee, and he brushed his fingers along the crease of her pants leg. “I saw my father once a year.”

“Yes, but you still must wonder how your life would have turned out if he’d lived.”

“No. My hockey coaches were more like fathers to me than my father. Marie’s mother was his fourth wife.”

“Other siblings?”

“I’m it.” He glanced up. “I’m all she has and I’m afraid I’m not enough.”

The light overhead caught in her curls, and a sad smile pulled at the corners of her lips. Luc hated to see it there and gave serious thought to grabbing the lapels of her suit and pulling her mouth to his, kissing it all better. But kissing would lead to other things, and those other things weren’t going to happen in a janitor’s closet with his teammates on the other side of the door.

“At least I still had my dad,” she said. “He dressed me like a boy until I was about thirteen, and he doesn’t have a sense of humor. But he loves me and he was always there.”

Dressed her like a boy? That explained a bit about the clothes and boots.

She chewed on her bottom lip. “Well, nothing will ever replace her mother. That’s for sure. I still miss my mother every day, and I wonder how my life would have been different if she’d lived. But it does get better with time, in that you don’t think about it every minute of every day. And you’re wrong that you’re not enough. If you want to be enough, you will be, Luc.”


Tags: Rachel Gibson Chinooks Hockey Team Romance