Body Check by Deirdre Martin

trailing after her as she stomped off into the bathroom. “I know when I’m not wanted.”
    Thank God for that , Ty said to himself, grabbing his robe from where it hung on the back of the bedroom door. While standing seemed to ease his headache somewhat, he was now acutely aware of the gritty insides of his mouth, which felt as if an invading army had marched through it. Keeping the shades drawn, he made his way into the kitchen, the light from the Sub-Zero fridge blinding him as he opened the door to check what was inside. Bottles of juice. Unused rolls of film. Batteries.
    Palm to pounding forehead, he began rustling through the kitchen in search of coffee. His housekeeper, Inez, was always rearranging the damn cabinets, so he never knew where anything was at any given moment. In the freezer, he found the precious ground beans that he hoped would alleviate his headache. Putting up a pot in the Krups, he called the doorman to arrange for a cab for Laura-Laurie-Lauren, fervently praying that she took her time in the shower and didn’t emerge in time for a cup of joe and a chat.
    For one thing, he wasn’t a morning person, especially when he was hungover. For another, he really had nothing to say to her. His mind circled back to the night before—to the sex, specifically. It had been good, no doubt about that. And then he remembered . . . Janna. The bottom dropped out of his already queasy stomach. At some point during foreplay, his imagination had taken over, and he had pretended it was Janna he was kissing deeply on the mouth, Janna’s smooth thighs he was parting. Oh, Jesus.
    Shaken, he went to sit in his huge, glass-walled atelier living room, daylight stabbing him. This is what he needed: to be brutalized by bright morning sun so that he’d come to his senses. Ever since his exchange with Janna in the lounge the day before, he hadn’t been able to get her off his mind. She had guts, standing up to him like that, and he admired her for it. Some of his own guys longed to go toe-to-toe with him, but didn’t have the balls to do it. But this tiny woman—who would, no doubt, be busting his chops day and night as she threatened to do—she let him have it but good. He loved that. It turned him on. Showed she had brains, spirit, and courage—the same stuff needed to make it out on the ice. I’ll be the annoying song lyric you can’t get out of your head. Man, she was right about that . Now he just needed to figure out what to do about it, because there was no way in hell he could let himself fall for this woman, not when she worked for those corporate bastards at Kidco, not when he couldn’t afford to divert his attention from winning. He had to expunge her from his thoughts. Avoid her. Ignore her. Whatever it took.
    â€œCan I at least get a cup of coffee before you throw me out?”
    The sharp voice of Laurie-Laura-Lauren behind him brought Ty back to himself. He turned from the window to see his playmate from the night before standing by his large, cream-colored leather couch glaring at him, her low-cut emerald dress from the night before looking cheap and incongruous now in the morning light.
    â€œSure,” Ty replied, moving toward the kitchen. A cup of coffee and cab fare was the least he could do. But even as he was politely pouring out the steaming black liquid into a mug, his mind was fixated on one thing: Janna, and how to nip his desire for her in the bud. It wouldn’t be easy, but he could do it.
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    â€œThere’s my girl.”
    Her father’s greeting as she pulled into the circular driveway of her parents’ Connecticut estate never failed to bring a smile to Janna’s face. Ever since she could remember, those had been the first words out of his mouth whenever he’d catch sight of her. He had been bent low over a bed of Japanese anemone, their pale pink blossoms quivering slightly in the September breeze. He