Body Check. Elle Kennedy
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Dear God. Why did she have to end up with a hockey player?
“Stop looking at me like that.” Hayden glared.
“Like what?” Brody said, blinking innocently.
“Like you’re imagining me naked.”
“I can’t help it. I am imagining you naked.”
His eyes darkened to a glitter, and liquid heat pooled between her thighs. She tried not to squeeze her legs together.
“I told you this morning I wanted to leave things at one night,” she protested.
He moved closer, his lips inches from her ear, his warm breath fanning her neck. “What about what I want?”
She resisted the urge to moan. If she wasn’t careful she’d hop right back into bed with Brody Croft.
And she’d love every sexy second of it….
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Dear Reader,
I am absolutely thrilled about writing for Harlequin Blaze. Body Check is a story that’s been in my head for quite a while. It’s a dream come true to be able to share it with you!
Growing up in Canada, I suppose it’s not surprising that I ended up writing about our nation’s most beloved sport. After all, there’s nothing sexier than a hockey player. And, of course, no romance would be complete without a scandal or two!
I had a blast writing Body Check, from its initial conception to the research phase (where I pestered my hockey-playing buddies with questions ike “What really goes on in the locker room?”) to those final, finishing touches.
I hope you enjoy Hayden and Brody’s story, and I’d also love to hear from you! Drop me a line at www.ellekennedy.com or swing over to The Sizzling Pens at sizzlingpens.blogspot.com to see what some of my fellow Harlequin authors and I are blogging about!
Happy reading!
Elle Kennedy
Body Check
ELLE KENNEDY
TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON
AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG
STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID
PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elle Kennedy grew up in the suburbs of Toronto, Ontario, and holds a B.A. in English from York University. From an early age she knew she wanted to be a writer, and actively began pursuing that dream when she was only a teenager. When she’s not writing, she’s reading. And when she’s not reading, she’s making music with her drummer boyfriend, oil painting, or indulging her love for board games. Elle loves to hear from her readers. Visit her at her Web site, www.ellekennedy.com, or stop by her blog, sizzlingpens.blogspot.com, to chat with Elle and her fellow Harlequin writers.
I could not have written this book without my
fantastic critique partners, Lori Borrill and
Jennifer Lewis, two incredible authors
in their own right, and the best support system
a girl could have.
I’d also like to dedicate this book to…
My family and friends, for not letting me give up.
Tyler, Amanda and Brad, for all their help
with this story.
My fabulous editor Laura Barth. And senior editor
Brenda Chin for taking a chance on me
and my hockey-playing hero!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
1
“I REALLY NEED to get laid,” Hayden Houston said with a sigh. She reached for the glass on the smooth mahogany tabletop and took a sip of red wine. The slightly bitter liquid eased her thirst but did nothing to soothe her frustration.
The pictures staring at her from the walls of the Ice House Bar didn’t help, either. Action shots of hockey players mid slap shot, framed rookie cards, team photos of the Chicago Warriors—it seemed as if the sport haunted her everywhere she went. Sure, she was a team owner’s daughter, but occasionally it would be nice to focus on something other than hockey. Like sex, perhaps.
Across from her, Darcy White grinned. “We haven’t seen each other in two years and that’s all you’ve got to say? Come on, Professor, no anecdotes about life in Berkeley? No insightful lectures about Impressionist art?”
“I save the insightful lectures for my students. And as for anecdotes, none of them involve sex so let’s not waste time with those.”
She ran her hand through her hair and discovered that all the bounce she’d tried to inject into it before heading to the Ice House Bar had deflated. Volume-enhancing mousse? Yeah, right. Apparently nothing could make her stick-straight brown hair look anything other than stick-straight.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Darcy said. “Why do you have sex on the brain?”
“Because I’m not getting any.”
Darcy sipped her strawberry daiquiri, a drink she’d confessed she hated but drank anyway, claiming men found it sexy. “Aren’t you seeing someone back in California? Dan? Drake?”
“Doug,” Hayden corrected.
“How long have you been together?”
“Two months.”
“And you still haven’t done the mattress mambo?”
“Nope.”
“You’re kidding, right? He’s not down with getting it on?” Darcy paused, looking thoughtful. “Or should I say, he’s not up with it?”
“Oh, he’s up. He just wants, and I quote, ‘to get to know each other fully before we cross the intimacy bridge.’”
Her friend hooted. “The intimacy bridge? Girl, he