Blind Ice (Razors Ice Book 5) (3 page)

Once, a long time ago, she’d had a boyfriend who broke her heart into jagged little pieces. And once was more than enough. She might be bitter about that particular man not being able to “handle” her disability—his words, not hers—but she wasn’t bitter about being blind. She was well-adjusted and she liked her life just fine the way it was. She had Shamus and Cassidy and VINCE and Kate. And now Gabe.

Whatever feelings Gabe might
think
he had for her were overshadowed by the fact that one man already left her because of her blindness. And she wouldn’t let it happen again. No matter how cute he sounded over the phone.

It was a good thing Gabe lived so far away. On the phone she could keep the disappointments from him to a minimum.

“Incoming call from Gabe Crawford,” VINCE announced, breaking apart Julia’s thoughts.

At least the program got
that
information correct, she thought and answered the call halfway through the first ring. “Good morning,” she greeted.

“Hi,” Gabe answered, his voice gravelly.

She instantly recognized the fatigue in his voice. “You didn’t sleep, did you?”

She heard him sip his coffee and imagined what his lips must look like pursed on a coffee mug.

Just friends
, she quickly reminded herself.

“Not very well,” he admitted.

Julia liked how honest he was with her. She could always count on Gabe to tell her like it was with no preamble. Not everyone wore their heart on their sleeve and that was a shame.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Ah, nothin’ much,” he answered distractedly. “Just some work stuff.” In typical Gabe behavior, it only took him a few seconds to spill the beans. “There are rumors of the company shutting down some projects and I hope it’s not going to be mine.”

She could hear the worry in his voice. “They won’t shut it down, Gabe. It’s much too important for them to do that.”

“Yeah, let’s hope.”

He didn’t sound convinced.

“How’d
you
sleep?” he asked, eager to switch the focus of the conversation away from him.

“Okay. Shamus and I fought over the covers all night so that was fun.”

“Wish I could have been there to see that.”

Julia smiled and ignored the innuendo. “Yesterday, VINCE said it was supposed to drop down into the 40’s, so I put an extra blanket on the bed.” At least he’d gotten the temperature right
that
time.

“Speaking of VINCE, how’s he doing?”

She sighed, hating to be the bearer of bad news. “Last night during
This Quiz
he told me the capital of Brazil was Zimbabwe. And this morning he tried to tell me that it’s one hundred twenty-five degrees out.”

“Hmmm…”

Julia could hear him type on his keyboard. Gabe Crawford was the owner of one incredibly brilliant mind and she had every confidence in his ability to make VINCE flawless.

Suddenly the typing stopped. Gabe rattled off some computer lingo she didn’t know the meaning of. “Dang it. It was overlooked when Perkins was reassigned to a different project,” he explained. “I’m sorry Julia. I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

“It’s okay. I actually enjoy arguing with him. Shamus hates him though,” she added with a laugh. “Do you think there’s something you can do about the tone of his voice? I think it must make a high-pitched sound that only Shamus can hear and it makes him whine. Maybe the voice could be British. How cool would that be? A British bloke reading my mail to me every morning?
Good morning, Julia
,” she said in a terrible accent. “
Would you like some tea and crumpets?
”

Gabe laughed as he continued to click away on his computer. “I’ll see what I can do about the pitch. How is the sonata coming along?”

“Oh, you know. I want it to be epically fabulous and it’s content to be mediocre muzak.”

“
Please
. You’re as hard on yourself as I am about VINCE.”

“That’s what happens when you put your heart and soul into something.”

“Play something for me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. It helps me concentrate.”

“Okay, if you insist.” She got up, went to her keyboard, sat and rested her fingers on the keys. Shamus settled at her feet, eager to join the audience.

Julia didn’t know why, but she always felt a little self-conscious when she played for Gabe. Maybe she cared too much what he thought about her talent.

She played Beethoven’s Moonlight sonata, playing from memory and from the heart. The music soothed her, the same as it always did.

Julia’s parents hadn’t pushed her to excel in music. In fact, it had been quite the opposite. They had left her to her own devices while they indulged in their own, and she had pursued the call of musical notes and sonatas all on her own. It might have been cliché for a person like her to be drawn to music, but Julia knew the intricate melodies and moving crescendos would have spoken to her soul even if she had the blessing of sight. Luckily, she liked music at a young age because once the lights went out, it was one of the only constants in her life.

She switched to Bach and let herself drift away on the notes. While her fingers found the correct keys, she imagined Gabe sitting at his desk at Intelliteck. She hoped he found fulfillment in the completion of VINCE. If anyone deserved contentment, it was Gabe.

When the last note faded away, Julia heard the steady sound of Gabe’s clapping.

Chapter Three

Ulterior Motives

A trip to the eye doctor wasn’t so unusual for Logan; he went to the team optometrist yearly. Finding he couldn’t stop thinking about Dr. Kapowski
was
unusual. In all reality, he should have gone through the motions and left her office without a second thought. But ever since meeting the voluptuous doctor that morning, thoughts of her kept creeping into his mind at the most random times.

Seven o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

Logan decided to go to the team’s voluntary evening practice just to stay busy until their dinner that night. Because it wasn’t mandatory, not all of his teammates were there, but enough guys showed up to shoot the puck around with.

Earlier at lunch with his friends, Logan had thought about the kiss he shared with Kate in her office. Her body felt so good pressed up against his. And that little noise she’d made in her throat had made his blood run hot. At the gym, he marveled at how ballsy her invitation to dinner had been. Especially after the self-conscious vibe she’d given off in the exam room. Boy, he sure had a few ideas of things they could do in that dark little room.

Later, when he was he was taping his sticks in the locker room and lacing up his skates for practice, she’d slithered back into his mind and he imagined how her body would feel beneath his.

Christ, he already knew she’d be an amazing lover. With a body like that, how could she not be? But it wasn’t just her body that intrigued him. As pretty as she was, he was just as fascinated by her brilliant mind as he was her beautiful body. A woman with the letters O.D. trailing behind her name demanded to be taken seriously. And a woman who could navigate her way around an organ as complicated as the eye was most definitely brilliant.

Well, Logan thought as he skated around the ice, she didn’t even have to seduce him with her mind because her sexy body spoke loud enough.

When the puck hit his stick and bounced away, Logan didn’t even notice.

“What the fuck, Logs?”

Logan looked up to see Trik Levine throw his gloved hands up into the air and gesture to the puck.

Logan scrambled to retrieve the puck and pass it back to his linemate. “Sorry.”

The pass wasn’t enough to appease his teammate and Trik skated toward him, a smug grin on his face.

“Somethin’ got you all googly-eyed, Murray?” Trik asked, obviously already convinced of the answer.

“Just shoot the puck, Levine,” Logan yelled back and tapped the blade of his stick on the ice.

“That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to do for the last ten minutes, but you’ve got your goddam head in the clouds.”

Logan scowled. It hadn’t been ten freakin’ minutes. “Put a cork in it and shoot the puck.”

“You gonna invite her to a game?”

“Who?”

“
Her
.”

“Her who?” How did Trik know a woman was the cause of Logan’s distraction?

Of course. The answer to that question was easy. According to Levine, women were the cause of
everything
.

Levine finally passed the puck back to Logan and he caught it on his tape. Before Trik could answer, Logan darted up the ice, shot the puck and sent it sailing past Connors into the net. If there was one way to shut up his teammates, it was to outplay them.

Logan was glad Dr. Benz was only deferring his patients to Kate temporarily while he was on vacation. Because he couldn’t stand the thought of any of his teammates—especially Trik—trying to get their grubby hooks into her.

He didn’t know where this sudden feeling of possession was coming from, but with a woman like Kate, Logan was more than willing to stick around and find out.

* * *

Kate’s house was a two bedroom bungalow on the south side of town. It was small but cozy and she loved everything about it. She’d decorated the rooms in soft pastels and had complimented the paint with calming patterns. Mint green in the kitchen with white eyelet curtains that fluttered in the breeze when the windows were open. Pale periwinkle blue in the living room and lavender paint and matching bedspread in the bedroom.

There wasn’t a piece of furniture or décor that she hadn’t hand-picked herself. Seashells on the coffee table from a trip to the coast with her sister. The lamp she bought at the downtown flea market. Ceramic picture frames with photos of her and Julia. Colorful throw pillows from Macy’s on clearance.

When she got home from work, Kate showered and changed into a navy blue wrap dress. It was comfortable and still sexy as hell with the deep V in front. Though she contemplated not wearing panties, she decided on a matching bra and thong set. To complete the outfit, she lightly spritzed her neck and wrists with her favorite perfume.

Dressed and ready, Kate took a long look in the mirror and thought about the past year. She was settling into her new persona nicely. She’d even let her hair grow long to where it fell down the middle of her back. Her ex-husband Carl had liked it chin length short and it was exhilarating to make decisions for herself again.

She also discovered she liked how peep toe shoes looked on her feet. They had been forbidden by Carl—yes, he’d actually said the word
forbidden—
and she liked the idea of her toe cleavage peeking out. It was sexy without being too revealing or vulgar like how some women were with their décolletage.

Before, Carl would never have allowed her to wear sexy clothes and high, head turning heels. Oh, no. With Carl everything had to be prim and proper. She almost pshawed when she thought back to the sex. Carl was a straight up missionary type of guy and he never,
never
wavered from his routine. Kate didn’t want routine missionary sex anymore. She thought sex should be spontaneous and passionate and up against the wall if need be.

It took her five long years to realize Carl was never going to change. For fear of losing herself and becoming a robotic Stepford wife, she filed for divorce and never looked back. Well, that wasn’t completely true. She looked back all the time and thanked her lucky stars she had the guts to get out of a loveless, passionateless,
lifeless
marriage.

After the divorce, she had taken sufficient time to “find” herself again, but it hadn’t been entirely too difficult because she’d been there all along, just waiting to be unearthed again. Kate was finally ready to open herself up to a man again. To discover love or passion. Or both. She didn’t believe for one second that all men were like Carl. If that was really the case, then where did the great writers and poets of the world draw their inspiration from?

No, there was definitely love to be found. And maybe, just maybe, she’d be lucky enough to find it in her own little corner of the universe.

Once she was single, it was amazing how eager her friends and colleagues were to set her up on dates! She’d gone out on a few of them, but the men they chose for her were either too boring or too high-strung. There never seemed to be a happy medium. George, the pointy-nosed accountant, reminded her too much of her ex and had actually given her his business card at the end of the date. Not for her to call him, but if she needed an accountant.
No thanks
.

And then there was Mike, the ankle sock-wearing daredevil. He probably would have been a better match for Julia, who had been on a quest to prove she could do everything a sighted person could do ever since she was a teenager. Mike loved BASE jumping and swimming with sharks and urged Kate to go to Nepal with him on their next date—not that there was one. She politely declined, but he continued to urge her to the point where she had to end the date early. Kate was all for trying new things, but not quite
that
ready. Dating after divorce was adventure enough. She’d gone skydiving with Julia last year for Julia’s birthday. Although it had been a blast, Kate wasn’t an adrenaline junkie and didn’t want a relationship that was only defined by how crazy their next date was.

Kate knew she had a good life. She had a successful career, a nice home, a new car, and a wonderful sister. But when she added up all the positives, they still didn’t outweigh the one big, looming negative she couldn’t quite get past. The lack of spontaneity in her life. Like clockwork, she hit the 24-hour supermarket early in the a.m. to beat the crowds and ensure the shelves were stocked with the items on her list. She always planned ahead for vacations—not that she took many—by scouring the internet for bad reviews on hotel rooms, the hours of operation of landmarks, and must-see activities for her itinerary. She planned everything right down to the point where it was almost like a second job. It drove Julia bonkers and Kate hated to admit it, but it did sort of suck all the fun out of her vacations—and her life.

Kate had never been one to do things on the spur of the moment. Even from a young age her life had been meticulously planned. And maybe that had been the problem. She hadn’t allowed herself to be spontaneous and see where the road would take her. She’d mapped out the trip to a tee, right down to the rest stops and refueling stations. And look where that had gotten her. At age twenty-seven, she was divorced and had no better idea of what love was all about then when she’d started.

At least she didn’t have any regrets. As much as she had detested her time with Carl, Kate came away from the whole ordeal thinking of it as a learning experience. Very rarely did anyone complete the first try perfectly in life. Life took a little practice and maybe, with a little luck, she’d get to do some practicing tonight.

Asking, or rather
telling
Logan to come to dinner had been a complete rush. It had felt about the same as jumping out of an airplane with Julia. Kate knew good and well that it was wrong with a capital
W
to seduce one of her patients, but at the risk of sounding childish, he started it. He’d been the one to crack jokes and smile and take up too much space in the exam room.

Carl had had her wound up so tight and afraid to do anything without his permission that it had taken months to unravel herself enough to where small, mundane tasks such as cooking dinner weren’t monumental if done “improperly.” There were still times when she had to remind herself that it was okay to wear red lipstick and buy colorful sheets and duvet covers for the bed.

Now here she was sitting in her bedroom wearing a fifty dollar dress and two-hundred dollar lingerie, waiting for a man who may or may not show up to have wild and crazy sex with her.

Well, if he didn’t show up then at least she’d taken a flying leap out of her comfort zone and asked him in the first place. She could find the positive in the situation and chalk it up to experience.

And if he
did
show up…well, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

A guy like Logan Murray probably received dinner invitations from women on a daily basis. They probably didn’t even make it to dinner. Kate would probably just become another notch on his bedpost. Even if that was to be the case, a little one night fling was exactly what she needed.

It seemed so easy giving in to that natural urge to kiss him in her office. She vowed to be that free here in her home and to give in to the moment and enjoy where it took her and not overthink things. With leaps and bounds, Kate was finally becoming the woman she wanted to be.

Happy with her appearance, Kate went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. She turned on the sensual sounds of some jazz music that Julia had recommended and swayed to the rhythm. She swiveled her hips and reveled in the feel of the soft fabric of her dress twirling around her thighs.

After loosening up to a few songs, it was time to set the scene. There was no formal dining room in her home but just enough room in the kitchen for her small bistro table and chairs. She set plates on the table, along with her best silverware, before going to the stove.

She liked playing with ingredients and spices, creating new flavors and embellishing the familiar. If a recipe didn’t turn out and was beyond fixing, then she could just toss it and move on to something else. No harm done and no pressure, just the opportunity for discovery. Always one to follow the directions precisely and color inside the lines, it was invigorating to take a step out of the good ole comfort zone once in a while.

Carl had been especially rigid when it came to food. He had a diet that rivaled Hugh Hefner and Kate was glad to get to experiment with new dishes in the kitchen. Not that pasta was an exotic food, but she was free to cook it however she wished. Tonight she made Penne Rigate with Spicy Braised Swordfish to serve with fresh French bread from the bakery. Yes, she had bought the ingredients early in the morning during her routine shopping trip, but that was
before
she vowed to be more spontaneous. It wasn’t the bread’s fault she approached change with baby steps.

The sauce smelled heavenly. When it was ready—oh yes, it had a decadent flavor to it!—she was pleased by the outcome and put the recipe in the keeper folder. Fortunately tonight’s dinner wouldn’t be banished to the garbage disposal. And the store-bought bread and salad were practically guaranteed to be edible.

She drank wine while she cooked dinner and the fruity taste of the rosé melded deliciously with the rich flavor of the tender swordfish and rich tomato sauce.