Anna DePalo – Second Chance With The Ceo (страница 3)

When she floated to consciousness again, Cole was saying her name.

For a moment she thought she was fantasizing about their sexual encounter in high school...until the smells of the construction site penetrated her brain, and she realized what had happened.

She was cradled against a warm, solid body. Her trench coat was bunched around her like a cocoon.

She opened her eyes, and her gaze connected with Cole’s. His golden-green eyes were intense.

She was also up close and personal with the new scar traversing his cheek. It looked painful but not jagged. Had he taken a skate blade to the face? She wanted to reach up and trace it.

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Yes, let me down.”

“May be a bad idea. Are you sure you can stand?”

Whatever the effects were of his career-ending injury, he seemed to have no problem holding a curvy woman of medium height in his arms. He was all hard muscle and restrained power.

“I’m fine! Really.”

Looking as if he still had misgivings, Cole lowered his arm. When her feet hit the ground, he stepped back.

Her humiliation was complete. So total, she couldn’t bear to face it right now.

“Just like old times,” Cole remarked, his tone tinged with irony.

As if she needed the reminder. She’d fainted during one of their study sessions in high school. It was how she’d first wound up in his arms...

“How long was I out?” she asked, not meeting his eyes.

“Less than a minute.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Are you all right?”

“Perfectly fine. I haven’t been to an emergency room since I was a kid.”

“You still have a tendency to faint.”

She shook her head, looking anywhere but at him. Talk about being overwhelmed by seeing him again. Anticipating and yet dreading this meeting, she’d been too nervous to eat. “No, I haven’t fainted in years. The medical term is vasovagal syncope, but my episodes are very infrequent.”

Except she had a terrible habit of fainting around him. It was their first meeting in fifteen years, and she’d already managed a replay of high school. She didn’t even want to consider what he was thinking right now. Probably that she was a consummate schemer with great acting skills.

He suddenly looked bland and aloof. “You couldn’t have planned a better Hail Mary pass.”

She cringed inwardly. He was suggesting that fainting had allowed her to buy time and get his sympathy. She was too embarrassed to get angry, however. “You play hockey, not football. Hail Mary is football. And why would I want to make a desperate last move with little chance of success?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Confuse the other side.”

“And did I?”

He looked as if he wished he were wearing all the protective gear of a hockey uniform. She was throwing him off balance. She was dizzy with momentary power, though her arms and legs still felt rubbery.

“I haven’t changed my mind.”

She lowered her shoulders and stepped toward her car.

“Are you okay to drive?” he asked, hands still shoved into his pockets.

“Yes. I feel fine now.” Tired, defeated and mortified, but fine.

“Goodbye, Marisa.”

He’d closed the door on her years ago, and now he was doing it again, with a note of finality in his voice.

She pushed aside the unexpectedly forceful emotional pain. As she stepped into her car, she was aware of Cole’s brooding gaze on her. And when she pulled away, she glanced in her rearview mirror and saw that he was still watching her from the curb.

She should never have come. And yet, she had to get him to say yes. She hadn’t come this far to accept defeat like this.

* * *

“You look like a man in need of a punching bag,” Jordan Serenghetti remarked, hitting his boxing gloves together. “I’ll spring for this round.”

“Lucky bastard,” Cole responded, moving his head from side to side, loosening up. “You get to work out the kinks by slamming someone on the ice rink.”

Jordan still had a high-velocity NHL career with the New England Razors, whereas Cole’s own had finished with a career-ending injury.

Still, whenever Jordan was in town, the two of them had a standing appointment in the boxing ring. For Cole, it beat the monotony of working out at the gym. Even as a construction executive, it paid to lead by example and stay in shape.

“Next hockey game isn’t for another three days,” Jordan responded, approaching with gloves raised. “That’s a long time to be holding punches. Anyway, don’t you have a babe to work out the kinks with?”

Marisa Danieli was a babe, all right, but Cole would be damned if he worked out anything with her. Unfortunately, she’d intruded on his thoughts too often since she’d dropped back into his arms last Friday.

Jordan touched a glove to his boxing helmet and then grinned. “Oh yeah, I forgot. Vicki dumped you for the sports agent—what’s his name, again?”

“Sal Piazza,” Cole said and sidestepped Jordan’s first jab.

“Right, Salami Pizza.”

Cole grunted. “Vicki didn’t dump me. She—”

“Got tired of your inability to commit.”

Cole hit Jordan with his right. “She wasn’t looking for commitment. It was the perfect fling that way.”

“Only because she’d heard of your reputation, so she knew she had to move on.”

“As I said, everyone was happy.” They danced around the ring, oblivious to the gym noises around them.

Even on a Wednesday evening, Jimmy’s Boxing Gym was humming with activity. The facility was kept cold but even the cool air couldn’t diminish the smell of sweat and sounds of exertion under the fluorescent lights.

Jordan rolled his neck. “You know, Mom wants you to settle down.”

Cole bared his teeth. “She’d also be happy if you quit risking thousands of dollars in orthodontia on the ice rink, but that’s not going to happen, either.”

“She can pin her hopes on Rick, then,” Jordan said, referring to their middle brother, “if anyone knew where he was.”

“On a movie set on the Italian Riviera, I’ve heard.”

Their brother was a stuntman, the risk taker among them, which was saying a lot. Their long-suffering mother claimed she’d lived at the emergency room while raising three boys and a girl. It was true they’d all broken bones, at one time or another, but Camilla Serenghetti still wasn’t aware of her sons’ most hair-raising thrills.

“It figures he’s on a paparazzi-riddled set,” Jordan grumbled. “No doubt there’s at least one hot actress in the picture.”

“Mom has Mia to fall back on, even if she is in New York.” Their youngest sibling was off pursuing a career as a fashion designer, which meant Cole was the only one based in Welsdale full-time.

“It sucks being the oldest, Cole,” Jordan said, as if reading his thoughts, “but you’ve got to admit you’re more suited to run Serenghetti Construction than any of the rest of us.”

In the aftermath of Cole’s career-ending hockey injury, their father, Serg, had suffered a debilitating stroke. Cole had grasped the reins of Serenghetti Construction eight months ago and never let go.

“It doesn’t suck,” Cole said. “It just needs to be done.”

He took the opportunity to hit Jordan with a surprise right. Damn, it felt good to rid himself of some frustration in the ring. He loved his brother, so it stunk to be even a little envious of Jordan’s life. It wasn’t just that Jordan was still a star with the Razors, because Cole had had a good run with the team himself. His younger brother also enjoyed a freedom missing from Cole’s own life these days.

Their father had always hoped one or more of his sons would carry on the family business. And in the casino of life, Cole had drawn the winning card.

Cole had been familiar with the construction business ever since he’d spent summers working on sites as a teenager. He just hadn’t anticipated having his hockey dream cut short and needing to pull his family together at the same time. Business had been tight until recently, and with Serg nearly flat on his back, Cole had been doing some scrambling with the hand he’d been dealt.

With any luck, one way or another, Cole could get on with his life again soon. Even if his future wasn’t on the ice, he had his own business and investment opportunities to pursue, particularly in the sports field. Coaching, for one thing, was beckoning...

“So why don’t you tell me what’s got you in a bad mood?” Jordan asked, as if they weren’t in a ring trying to knock each other off their feet.

Cole’s mind went to his more immediate problem—if she could even be called that instead of...oh yeah, a wrecking ball in heels. He built things, and she destroyed them—dreams being at the top of her list. Best remember her evil powers. “Marisa Danieli stopped by the construction site today.”