One Month with Vince Tanev: Tampa’s Hotshot Rookie Twenty-four-seven access on and off the ice.
The headline says it all, and my bosses are over the moon when the opportunity of a lifetime lands in my lap. Of course, they aren’t aware that I’ve already met Vince Cool at an all-star gala — and that we were at each other’s throats the entire time.
It doesn’t matter that he’s the kind of hot that shows God has favorites — messy brown hair, heated hazel eyes, the smirk of a rockstar, and a scar over his eyebrow that makes every woman particularly feral.
He’s a rich, cocky playboy — a brand I’m all too familiar with, and one I’m determined to never be around again.
But after my coverage of the gala stirs up buzz, the team’s General Manager and my CEO strike a deal. To help fill the arena at home games, I’ll get up close and personal with Tampa’s new shiny toy. Whether he’s at practice, playing in a game, partying, or drinking coffee half-naked in his condo — I’ll be there for all of it.
Vince gets under my skin like no one else. It isn’t long before that paper-thin line between hate and lust blurs, and being around him every waking minute of the day leaves no chance to escape his devilish stare.
The air crackles between us. The tension is hot enough to melt my inhibitions.
But I know the way this story ends. I’ve lived it once before.
As much as I work to guard my heart, my body is a traitor — and if this man puts his hands on me, I know I’ll submit to desire.
I thought one month with Vince Tanev was a game I could win easily. But I might have just met my match.
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