So Over You (Chicago Rebels #2)(72)

Damn, she was beautiful with that color infusing her creamy skin. The taste of her still coated his mouth, and it had taken a Herculean effort on his part to stop after one lick. Tonight they would find a hotel, because when you had relatives in town, it put an unbearable crimp in your sex life.

“Not gonna eat the chicken, Vaddy?” Erik, who had the appetite of a woolly mammoth, eyed Vadim’s barely touched meal. Their goaltender had already eaten Cade’s, not that the usually amiable Texan noticed or cared. He was in a strangely foul mood tonight, barely grunting when spoken to.

Vadim pushed his plate toward Erik. “It’s all yours.”

“Awesome!”

Bren was on his other side, a finger tracing the rim of his water glass, his expression contemplative.

“Okay, there, Captain?”

“Yeah. Just not a big fan of these kinds of events. Reminds me of my ex. She was big on parties and glitz.”

“How are your girls?” Bren had two beautiful daughters who visited once a month from Atlanta for a few days. It was hard on him to be separated from them.

Bren’s face brightened. “Amazing. Though my youngest doesn’t really like her mom’s new boyfriend. Says he’s a Philistine.”

“That’s a big word. How old is your youngest?”

“Almost nine,” he said proudly. “Smart as a whip, and she doesn’t suffer fools gladly. My ex is shacking up with Drew Cassidy. You heard of him?”

The wide receiver for the Atlanta NFL team. “Your wife has a type, then.”

“Ex-wife. And yeah, she does. But she likes a once-a-week athlete versus the NHL schedule. The girls want to live with me, but I’d have to find a nanny, and how is that any better than what they’ve got now?”

Some women were not cut out to be mothers. “A nanny might be an improvement.”

Bren smiled knowingly. “Heard your mom’s in town, along with your sister.”

Vadim sought out Isobel, two tables over. “Yes, it’s not the most ideal situation.”

“It never is. So, you and Isobel, huh?”

“What?” His protective instincts surged. “She is my—” Mine. “—my coach.”

The Scot rubbed his beard. “Sure she is.”

Denial was on the tip of his tongue, but he was saved from having to do so when someone tapped the microphone. A white-haired man on the stage thanked them for their attendance and launched into a spiel about the charity.

“We’ve raised over $420,000 for Hockey for Everyone tonight, including one single donation of $100,000 from the Rebels’ Vadim Petrov.” The crowd erupted in appreciation while Erik elbowed him in the ribs.

“Good work, Vaddy!”

The rest of the table congratulated him, but when Vadim caught Bren’s eye, he saw sly humor.

“Yeah, good work, Vaddy,” the Scotsman said softly.

Unable to resist, Vadim looked over to Isobel, who had an eyebrow raised and a smile on her face. This charity meant a lot to her, so of course he would help, especially as he had wealth beyond what he earned on the ice. One hundred thousand dollars was a drop in the bucket of his millions, but he didn’t want to overdo it in case people would gossip. Which is why he had asked that his name not be mentioned.

In for a ruble . . . He stood to accept the applause and shouted out, “The rest of my teammates will match my donation.” The players might be here to mingle and lend some star power, but there was no reason why they shouldn’t also put their hands in their pockets. They could well afford it.

The room broke into louder applause, even his teammates, who shook their heads at his audaciousness in volunteering their hard-earned cash.

“I will pay out for any of you who are cheapskates,” he said as he retook his seat.

“Before we start the fun with the bachelor auction,” the man on the stage said, prompting several women near the bar to scream their appreciation, “we’d like to take a moment to honor one of Hockey for Everyone’s founding members and an unstinting advocate for the cause of bringing hockey and sports to anyone who wants to play. First, let’s give you a brief recap of her great career.”

A video started up, beginning with footage of Isobel playing as a five-year-old, fearless even then while her father passed pucks to her. Her childhood and teen exploits on the ice were well documented, and the rest Vadim knew because once he had met her, he’d followed every step of her professional life: the glory in NCAA, the silver medal in the Games, the one and only night fulfilling her dream as a hockey pro.

While everyone watched the screen, he watched her as the lights flickered over her face with each milestone. The winning goal against Russia in the semifinals in Sochi (the one time he had actually cheered against his country) right up until the first few minutes of the game in Buffalo.

He had stood in the stands that night, covered with a winter cap, seeking and embracing anonymity. It was her night, and he didn’t want to take away from that.

Lightning fast, she feints left and whips by the Montreal defender, her skates on fire, the puck hers to command. She’s already scored two goals and her team, the Buffalo Betties, is ahead by one. With four minutes left to the second period, another goal would place them in a commanding position. The first win in the new National Women’s Hockey League will likely be hers.