One Man Rush

One Man Rush
Joanne Rock

Sassy heroines and irresistible heroes embark on sizzling sexual adventures as they play the game of modern love and lust. Expect fast paced reads with plenty of steamy encounters.Matchmaking Case File 114 Requested Match: Kyle Murphy, pro hockey player (This guy can score.)Challenge: Not looking for anything serious (yet)Notes: Ridiculously attractive, sexy, irresistible…and I want him for myself!Matchmaker Marissa Collins is looking for a man. A hot, successful, man. But the man she's considering – hockey player Kyle Murphy – is for a prospective client. Marissa’s matchmaking professionalism goes MIA, though, when she meets Kyle…who's not coming along quietly.Kyle isn’t looking for a match. He has his eye on the prize – the Stanley Cup – or at least he did before Marissa dropped into his life. Now he’s playing a new game, one where getting Marissa in bed is the goal. And if he has to play dirty…that's even better.

“My price is a date with you, Marissa.”

Marissa gazed up at Kyle and slowly shook her head. “I can’t. What kind of matchmaker would swoop in and take the prize catch for herself? No client would ever trust me again.”

Upping his game, Kyle raised a finger to her upturned face and sketched a soft stroke down the length of her throat.

Her eyelids fluttered, her lips parting of their own accord.

“What are we doing?” she whispered helplessly, clutching his shoulders as if she were hanging on for dear life.

“Being impulsive.” He licked his way into the curve of her shoulder and she shivered. “Isn’t it the best?”

“I’m not impulsive,” she said, even as she arched her neck to give him more room to work.

He ran his tongue along that same spot over and over until she trembled again.

“You are now.”

Dear Reader,

As if being married to a former sports editor didn’t fill my life with enough sports talk, I’m also raising three highly competitive sons. Team sports fill my days and reviewing game film often occupies our time between game days. It’s a fun family pastime and has given me lots of insight into all kinds of sports. I’ve written baseball players for Blaze in Double Play and Sliding Into Home. But my new series takes me to the world of hockey—which some readers may recall I touched on in Date with a Diva.

Welcome to “Double Overtime,” where hockey reigns supreme and hot athletes abound. What makes the stories all the more fun is the connection to the Murphy family, which I introduced in my WRONG BED books, Making a Splash and Riding the Storm. The Murphys are a family of five brothers and their foster brother, Axel, who gets a story next month in Her Man Advantage.

I sure hope you’ll enjoy these sports heroes as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them. Most of all, thank you for picking up one of my books and giving me the chance to share a story with you!

Happy reading,

Joanne Rock

About the Author

The mother of three sports-minded sons, JOANNE ROCK has found her primary occupation to be carting kids to practices and cheering on their athletic prowess at any number of sporting events. In the windows of time between football games, she loves to write and cheer on happily-ever-afters. A three-time RITA

Award nominee, Joanne is an author of more than fifty books for a variety of series. She has been an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award nominee and multiple Reviewers’ Choice finalist, including a nomination for The Captive Best Blaze of 2010. Her work has been reprinted in twenty-six countries and translated into nineteen languages. Over two million copies of her books are in print. For more information on Joanne’s books, visit www.joannerock.com.

One Man Rush

Joanne Rock

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

For my sons, Taylor, Camden and Maxim.

Thank you for the love, the laughs, and for

occasionally cleaning your rooms.

I could not be more proud of you boys!

1

MARISSA COLLINS WAS IN the market for a man. A tall, dark and gorgeous man. In fact, she’d set her sights on Philadelphia’s most wanted eligible bachelor.

Snagging that kind of prize target might intimidate most women. But since her work as a personal matchmaker had Marissa chasing single guys on a daily basis, tonight’s manhunt was all in a day’s work.

Handing her keys to the valet in front of the Normandy Farm Hotel in the Philadelphia suburbs, Marissa stepped out of the cramped hybrid car and stretched her legs at the scene of her evening’s mission. A tension headache that had started this morning after another call from a high-priority client twisted into a throbbing knot behind her eye. Hockey superstar Kyle Murphy was on her top client’s personal Most Wanted list, and Marissa had no choice but to deliver if she was going to keep her customer happy. Ever since her mother had been injured, Marissa no longer worked as a matchmaker just for the love of it. Being her mom’s primary caretaker necessitated an income.

“Enjoy your evening, ma’am.” The college kid in a bow tie and windbreaker grinned at her as she gathered her purse and an evening wrap to ward off the chill of a March evening.

She handled the silk chiffon carefully, the white showstopper a long-ago gift from her mother. Brandy Collins, her pop singer mom, had bought it while on tour in Italy back when she commanded standing-room-only audiences—before the traumatic brain injury that left her frequently confused and fighting to retain basic motor skills. There were experimental medicines available, but without FDA approval, Marissa needed funds to afford the care. She’d give anything to see the light of real recognition in her mom’s eyes again.

“Can you tell me which way to the Philadelphia Phantoms event?” she asked the valet as he slid behind the wheel of her vehicle.

She dug into her purse for a pair of rhinestone earrings and clipped them into place.

“The hockey team is in the main conference atrium.” The valet pointed as he checked for traffic near the unloading area. “There are signs when you walk in.”

“Thanks.” She hurried toward the main entrance between pillars wrapped in white lights, then took one last peek at the newspaper article in her evening bag.

Phantoms’ Playmaker Wins Shootout, the headline announced in a piece that ran in the sports section yesterday. But the text wasn’t as important as the photo of the team’s playmaker himself—power forward Kyle Murphy.

“You look like trouble to me,” she muttered, taking note of the hockey star’s square jaw and high cheekbones. Forest-green eyes glimmered with good humor while a slightly crooked nose prevented him from being Bachelor of the Month gorgeous. Every other trait belonging to Kyle Murphy was handsome as sin and surely as much trouble.

An opinion Marissa had no problem sharing with her client, local celebutante Stacy Goodwell. But Stacy, the daughter of the obscenely wealthy owner of the Phantoms’ arena, hadn’t cared the athlete had a reputation for arrogance. According to Stacy, the player’s hotness factor was off the charts. Her father had been willing to pay well above Marissa’s usual commission to arrange this particular date.

Folding the article back down into the bottom of her bag, Marissa took out one last accessory before she went to work. She slid a plain gold band on her left hand and snapped the purse shut. Some women took off real wedding rings before a night on the town. Marissa suspected she was one of the few who slipped on a fake one. But it helped speed along conversations with single, eligible men when they knew she wasn’t in the market for a date. Besides, any guy who didn’t respect a wedding ring wasn’t the kind of man she’d want for her clients.

“Welcome, miss.” A gray-haired hotel employee in a dark suit opened the door for her.

She gave him a nod as she stepped into the facility and strode toward the conference center, determined to sign on Kyle and hoping that he and Stacy were truly a good match. She’d gotten into this job because she worked well behind the scenes, orchestrating other people’s lives far more effectively than her own. She didn’t want to lose that personal touch now just because financial need had entered the picture. But her mother needed those meds. She deserved a chance to recover her past and her memories. Surely the hockey player could agree to just one date with Stacy. It wasn’t as though she was peddling her services to him for a fee since she already had a paying client in hand. She just needed Kyle to agree to a date.

Eighties rock music played by a DJ filtered through open double doors as she reached the atrium where the event was being held, the insistent guitar distinguishable even though the crowd noise swelled.

Rich red walls warmed the long corridor filled with people taking a break from the dance floor or escaping the music to talk. The party was in full swing, a fundraiser for a local children’s hospital, with the main attraction being the opportunity to meet Phantoms players.

“Excuse me,” Marissa all but shouted as the throng around the doors seemed oblivious.

The sea of bodies moved slightly, giving her room to bypass the social yakkers. A huge chandelier hung over the dance floor in a large hall designed to look more like a barn than a run-of-the-mill meeting space. For that matter, it had been a barn at one time. The high ceiling and rough wood beams of the original space remained.

But where was Kyle Murphy? Scanning the scene, she plotted how to approach a sought-after athlete. To be wealthy, powerful, talented and gorgeous had to be too many blessings for any one person to handle, a condition she’d witnessed in her time navigating her mother’s former world—the insane culture of pop music. While Marissa had never fit into the craziness and excess, she’d cobbled together a network of friends in her travels. Those same friends were her clients today thanks to a couple of great matches she’d made among her nearest and dearest back in the days before she charged for her skills.

“May I get you anything, hon?” a frizzy-haired blonde waitress asked as she tucked an empty serving tray under one arm.

“No, thank you.” Waiting for a drink at the bar would be a better way to scope out the bash.