Wicked Games (Denver Rebels) (49 page)

“We always knew he’d become a superstar,” she said proudly. “He learned to skate before he could walk. Took to the ice like it was in his blood.”

Nadia smiled, remembering the anecdote Reid had shared with her on their first date at the café.

“He can be very modest, so he graciously allows me to showcase all his trophies here instead of his own house.” Arlene chuckled. “I think it embarrasses him a little to see this shrine erected in his honor. But what can I say? I’m proud of my baby boy’s accomplishments.”

“As you should be,” Nadia said, wandering over to the wall of photos. As a little boy, Reid was as devastatingly cute as she’d suspected he would be. Sturdy and athletic, with an infectious grin and bright blue eyes under a mass of unruly dark hair.

“I remember how excited he was when he met Bobby Orr for the first time in high school,” Arlene fondly reminisced. “He was so awestruck he lost his voice for a few moments, could only stand there and gawk at Bobby.” She chuckled at the memory. “Meeting his hero was all he talked about for weeks afterward. Since then, Bobby has become a trusted friend and mentor. We’ve even had him over for dinner a few times.”

“That’s wonderful,” Nadia murmured, touching a picture of Reid holding up some major trophy as he beamed triumphantly into the camera.

His mother came up beside her. “As you can see from this room, hockey means everything to Reid. He doesn’t have any room in his life for distractions.”

It was a warning if ever Nadia had heard one.

Slowly she turned her head to meet the older woman’s cool gaze.

Several seconds passed.

“Everything all right?”

Nadia and Arlene turned to find Reid standing in the doorway with his hands on either side of the door frame. His eyes locked onto Nadia’s, searching her face for signs of distress.

“Of course everything’s all right,” his mother said with an airy laugh. “I was just showing Nadia all of your awards and hockey memorabilia. No tour of the house would be complete without seeing the ‘Hall of Fame’ room.”

Reid glanced around, grimaced ever so slightly and shook his head.

Arlene laughed again. “I told you this room embarrasses him,” she said to Nadia.

Nadia smiled at Reid. It didn’t escape her attention that he hadn’t stepped one foot over the threshold.

When he held out his hand to her, she gladly crossed the room to take it. She was eager to put some distance between herself and his mother.

“C’mon,” he murmured. “Let me introduce you to Maeve.”

As Arlene followed them down the hallway, Nadia could practically feel the woman glaring daggers at her back.

As they neared the foyer, the front door opened, and a tall man stepped inside the house.

A broad grin swept across Reid’s face. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey there, son.” With impeccably groomed silver hair and piercing blue eyes, Roark Holden was the epitome of a silver fox. He cut an impressive figure in a white dress shirt, dark gabardine trousers and polished Italian loafers.

He closed the door and came forward with long, powerful strides. His eyes were focused on Nadia, his smile wide and full of relaxed charm. “Well, hello, young lady. You must be Nadia.”

She smiled warmly. “Hello, Mr. Holden. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine, I assure you.” He shook her hand, his large, tanned fingers swallowing hers up. Reid and Ryder had not only inherited their father’s good looks; they’d also inherited his big hands.

Roark grinned at Reid and slapped him warmly on the shoulder. “Well done,” he said, a glint of approval in his eyes.

Reid grinned.

Nadia blushed.

Roark looked across the foyer and nodded to his ex-wife. “Arlene.”

She pressed her lips together and lifted her chin. “Where’s your mail order bride?”

Roark chuckled, taking the jab in stride. “If you mean Hanh, Reid and I decided it would be best if she didn’t join us this evening.”

“Oh?” Arlene lifted an eyebrow at Reid. “When did you decide that?”

“Does it really matter?” Roark interjected with a look of mild exasperation. “The point is she’s not here. So you can relax.”

Arlene gave a haughty sniff. “Who says I can’t relax when she’s around? Your little girlfriend is of no consequence to me.”

Roark and Reid gave her a skeptical look that made her scowl.

Nadia watched the heated exchange like a spectator at Wimbledon. If nothing else, she was grateful to have the focus of attention off her for a while.

Arlene gestured curtly in the direction of the living room. “Shall we sit?”

She led the way across the foyer and through the high arched doorway of the living room. It was large and plushly carpeted with a coffered ceiling and a hand-carved marble fireplace. A fire crackled in the grate, and the mantel was festooned with framed family photos and swags of garland. The tall picture windows were covered with elegant custom drapes, and the furniture and paintings looked seriously expensive. Tiny white lights twinkled festively on a soaring Douglas fir with perfectly wrapped gifts arranged underneath.

Reid and Nadia sat together on a plush settee upholstered in silk.

Arlene walked to a Louis XV armchair made of ornately carved mahogany, then sat down and elegantly crossed her legs.

Roark strode across the living room to the wet bar, where he poured himself a snifter of scotch. “I know the girls are running late,” he said, “but I thought Ry was here.”

“He is,” Reid confirmed, draping one arm along the back of the settee. “He got a call from work while we were in the kitchen. It sounded pretty urgent.”

Arlene frowned. “I hope he won’t be called away. He works too many hours as it is.”

“Nonsense,” Roark scoffed. “A little hard work never hurt anybody. And the boy’s well compensated for his labor.”

Arlene glared at him. “That’s not the point.”

“Of course it is.” Roark took a deep swig of his scotch, downing half of it in one gulp.

Nadia exchanged a look with Reid. It was going to be a
long
night.

“So how are your folks doing, Nadia?” Roark asked conversationally.

“They’re doing well,” she answered.

“That’s good.” He poured himself more scotch. “Reid tells me your father has his own dental practice.”

Nadia smiled. “Yes, he does.”

“That’s wonderful. And your mother…” Roark trailed off, snapping his fingers as he tried to remember. “Wait, don’t tell me. Your mother’s an administrator at Presbyterian/St. Luke’s Medical Center.”

“That’s right,” Nadia confirmed, trying not to shiver as Reid caressed her nape with his thumb.

Roark crossed the room to sit on the sofa, grinning broadly at her. “I understand that twins run in your family. You have a twin brother, and so does your father.”

“Yes, sir.” Nadia grinned. “Crazy, right?”

“It’s a bit unusual.” There was a twinkle in Roark’s eyes. “Now what would be crazy is if you and Reid ended up having twins too. Then I’d probably have to call the folks at Guinness World Records.”

Nadia and Reid laughed warmly.

Arlene shifted in her chair. Her lips were pinched together, betraying her displeasure.

“So when do we get to meet—” Roark broke off as his phone rang. Holding up a finger, he pulled the mobile out of his pocket and answered the call with a hearty, “Hello there, Forrest.”

He listened for a moment, then laughed deep in his throat and drank more scotch.

When Arlene shot him a pointedly raised eyebrow, he got up and left the room. As Nadia watched him go, she couldn’t help wishing it was Reid’s mother who’d gotten the call instead. She’d take Roark’s warmth and charm any day over Arlene’s frosty demeanor.

As if she’d read her mind, Arlene gave her a thin smile. “So, Nadia, how are you enjoying your trip to Detroit so far?”

“I’m having a fabulous time,” Nadia replied, smiling at Reid. “Your son has been the perfect host.”

“I’m sure he has. It’s not every day he brings a woman home to meet the family.” Arlene’s tone suggested it should have stayed that way. “I hope you haven’t been keeping him up too late at the hotel. He needs his rest for tomorrow night’s big game.”

Reid gave her a wry look. “I’m not a child anymore, Mom. You don’t need to monitor my bedtime.”

“I know.” She gave him a motherly smile. “I just want to make sure you get enough sleep. I’d hate for you to play poorly tomorrow because you stayed up too late doing…other things.”

Nadia’s face flamed.
Oh, God. Kill me now
.

Reid merely chuckled, unfazed by his mother’s inappropriateness. “If it makes you feel better, Nadia and I took a nap this afternoon after we came back from sightseeing. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Nadia’s face grew hotter at the memory of their “nap,” which they’d taken after Reid fucked her against the French doors and then the floor before they managed to crawl up to the bed and collapse into a dead sleep.

“Right, baby?” Reid prompted, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Right,” Nadia said weakly.

His mother’s eyes narrowed.

Thankfully at that moment, Roark strode back into the room, tucking his phone away. “That was Forrest Oakley,” he said to Reid.

“The textile baron?”

“Right.” Roark grinned. “When I saw him at the yacht club a few weeks ago, he told me that his grandson would be visiting the same weekend you came home. The boy just turned nine and he’s really interested in playing hockey. He’s a big fan of yours, so Forrest was wondering if you could come over and talk to him for a few minutes, give him some advice and encouragement.”

Reid frowned. “Now?”

“I know it’s an imposition,” his father said apologetically, “but you’ll be busy preparing for the game tomorrow, and the boy’s leaving on Sunday morning.”

“I understand, but—”

“We don’t have to stay long. Forrest knows we’re having a family dinner, so he didn’t want to intrude by coming over. He lives one street over on Rathmor. We could be there and back in ten minutes.” Roark’s expression turned imploring. “It would really mean a lot to Forrest and his grandson if you came over. He also hinted at giving a generous donation to the community center.”

Reid hesitated, looking at Nadia. He was clearly reluctant to leave her again.

It made her feel a little guilty. If he could spend time on his own with her father, surely she could survive a few more minutes alone with his mother.

She gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. You can go.”

He still didn’t move, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

Arlene made an exasperated sound. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Reid Tyler. I’m not going to throw your girlfriend into a boiling cauldron. She and I will be just fine.”

Reid shot her a look of veiled warning.

She blew him a kiss and shooed him off.

He touched Nadia’s knee. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” She forced a bright smile to put him at ease.

Giving her one last apologetic look, he got up and followed his father out of the room.

The moment he was gone, Arlene turned to Nadia with a smile that made her feel like a cornered canary.

“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink? I can fix you a martini or anything else you’d like.”

Although Nadia could probably use a stiff drink right now, she politely declined. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

“All right,” Arlene said graciously. “If you change your mind, just let me know.”

“I will,” Nadia agreed, resisting the urge to fidget nervously on the settee.

Arlene leaned back in her chair, her hands neatly folded in her lap. “So what do you do back home in Denver?”

Nadia had a sneaking suspicion the woman already knew all about her. But she’d play along and dutifully answer her questions.

“I’m a college recruiter.”

“How nice,” Arlene said in a tone that bordered on condescending. “What college do you work for? Is it a university?”

“No,” Nadia replied. “It’s called Mountain View Community College.”

“Oh? A community college?” The criticism implicit in Arlene’s tone was not lost on Nadia. Working at a two-year college was apparently beneath the woman’s standards. “I assume you have a bachelor’s degree?”

“I do. From Northwestern.” Nadia paused. “I received a master’s in counseling from the University of Colorado.”

“Oh? You have a master’s degree?”

“I do.”

Arlene looked reluctantly impressed. “How wonderful.”

“Thank you.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

Arlene nodded slowly, appraising her features. “You look like you just graduated from college.”

If anyone else had spoken those words, Nadia would have taken it as a compliment. But Arlene made her youthful appearance sound like a flaw.

“So what do you intend to do with your master’s degree?” she inquired.