Chapter One
Sarah Jenkins scooted to the edge of the SUV’s driver seat as she stared at the hulking home of the NHL’s Buffalo Storm. The August sunshine was only partially to blame for the bead of sweat running down the side of her neck. After wiping her damp palms on her skirt, she slid out of the car and hit the alarm remote. Turning, she bounced off a hard object and stumbled backward from the force of the impact with an involuntary grunt.
The immoveable object was a man, and what a man he was. He had a body like granite, with chiseled features, and was casually attired in shorts and a T-shirt clinging for dear life to his arms and chest. The guy could’ve been a sculpture.
Yum.
“Are you all right?”
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears due to the fight or flight reaction from their collision paired with the pure, inexplicable rush of lust he evoked. “I’m, um…” Sarah cleared her throat.
Talk, you idiot.
“I’m fine.”
Her cheeks flamed as she ducked her head. Was this what scientists meant when they said women were attracted to men they sensed had the strongest DNA? Between his killer body, light green eyes, and sexily tousled head of hair, he looked like he’d just jumped out of a cologne ad in GQ. As far as she could see, his DNA was damn near perfect.
It was hard to miss the long, thorough once-over he was giving her, leaving her hot and feverish—a reaction she couldn’t attribute purely to the blazing heat or her frazzled nerves. Their gazes collided and he stared at her with a glimmer of male interest.
She wasn’t sure why he’d be interested in her. He was gorgeous, and she was, well, a nerd, for want of a better word.
Her attention was drawn to full lips that would’ve looked feminine on other men, but there was nothing feminine or soft about this man. Hard, sinewy muscles stretched over his arms, legs, and torso, but despite his size, he was leanly muscled rather than bulky. He reminded her of a panther readying to strike, and her breathing kicked up another notch.
Sarah shook her head to clear it. She had a new job to focus on right now and that was the only thing that was important. It had to be. She couldn’t afford to screw this chance up.
“After you.” He stepped back and motioned for her to pass.
His voice had a hint of an accent. French-Canadian, perhaps? It rolled over her like a gentle breeze. What woman could resist an accent like that?
“Thank you. And I’m sorry about running into you.”
“I’m not.” He gave a one-sided, incredibly hot smile.
She needed to get into the building before she did something stupid like offer herself to him as a human buffet. The man turned and walked away and Sarah cursed her shaky legs as she headed into the arena, which also housed the Storm’s front office, where she’d be meeting with Jon Duncan, the team’s head coach, and Keith Calhoun, the general manager.
After spending years honing her skills in mathematical analysis as a postdoctoral fellow in Cornell’s Center for Applied Mathematics, or CAM for short, she’d landed her dream job as a competitive analysis consultant for the Storm, a team she’d followed for years. The position combined her loves of hockey and math to provide the absolute perfect fit for her.
The only problem? The NHL, not the team, had hired her to give the impression they were making an effort to help keep the Storm afloat while the organization searched for a new buyer. The previous ones had just been convicted of embezzlement and tax evasion.
