Page 65 of Gloves Off

It feels like a low blow, though.

“Nope.”

She lets out a soft breath of relief. “Good.”

CHAPTER 32

ALEXEI

Three nights in a row,the doctor makes my life a living hell.

“You look like shit,” Owens says at the warm-up skate on the last morning of our away-game stretch.

“Shut up.” It can’t be healthy for a man to have an erection for extended lengths of time like this.

He just grins. “Bad night?”

Three terrible nights. The worst of my life.

I didn’t tell Ward we needed separate rooms, because what if she did sleepwalk into the hall? I’m not worried about her, but I didn’t like that idea.

Three nights in a row, she slept half on top of me, her leg tucked between mine, her head on my chest, her scent in my nose.

Three mornings in a row, I woke up hard but well rested. The deepest sleeps of my life, once I let go and relaxed.

My wife apparently sleeps like the dead, waking up after me each morning. She has no idea about any of this, a thought that gives me a twist of discomfort.

“What’s the matter, Volkov?” Miller asks as he skates past. “The doctor keeping you up late?”

“Yes.” My mind goes to the freckles across her chest, and my mouth waters.

I can’t wait to get home tonight so I can sleep in my own bed—alone.

“Only Volkov would take a good night’s sleep over hooking up with his hot wife,” Walker says, and I glare at him. “What? It’s a good problem to have.”

It’s a problem, all right. It’s aproblemthat the doctor is the hottest woman I’ve ever seen. It’s aproblemthat she makes me feel like I’m losing my mind. It’s aproblemthat I want to bend my wife over the bed and fuck those teasing words and smirks right out of her.

It’s just because she gets under my skin. My body’s confused.

That evening, we exit the plane in Vancouver, and I’ve never been so relieved to get home.

“Get some rest, Volkov.” Miller claps me on the shoulder. “Never seen you so grouchy.”

Beside me, the doctor’s lips turn up.

“Something funny?”

Her eyes go wide with innocence. “Nope. Nothing funny at all.”

She thinks she’s keeping me up because of the lingerie.

When we get to the arrivals area for the team’s private plane, she starts walking toward a car waiting at the curb.

“I already booked a car,” I tell her.

“Good job.” She keeps walking past me. “So did I.”

“Doctor.” I wait, but she’s still walking away. “Georgia,” I call again. She stops, turns, and waits with an expectant look, like I’m inconveniencing her. For fuck’s sake. I lower my voice. “We’re not taking separate cars home.”

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