Ice Cold Hearts: A Single Mom, Hockey, Reverse Harem Romance (Forbidden Fantasies)

1. Emily

Embrace the moment while it lasts, Emily. She’s not always going to want to spend time with you, I sternly remind myself as tiny toddler fingers jab at my closed eyes.

“Audrey, sweetheart, are you almost done? I don’t want our tea to get cold.”

Her exasperated sigh is identical to the one the girl at the drive-through gave me this morning when I asked if I could have extra bacon on my breakfast sandwich.

“Mama,” she says patronizingly, “the tea is pretend. My magination makes it stay hot.”

“Imagination,” I correct.

There’s that sigh again.

“That’s what I said. My magination. Now close your eyes for sparkles.”

“Are you sure we need glitter? The makeup is sparkly all by itself,” I say hopefully.

Audrey glares at me so fiercely it makes me wonder if a teenager is trapped inside my four-year-old.

“Glitter it is, then,” I say, forcing a smile.

After no fewer than three outfit changes from the Mommy and Me dress-up box, Audrey is satisfied and we finally get comfortable at the tea table. Well, she’s comfortable, at least. This chair hardly fits a regular-sized woman. I’ve got no chance at all with my curves.

Even with the chair digging into my hips, this is still the best part of my day. I love watching the way her eyes light up as she tells me what her friends are up to. Her dimples flash in and out of sight as she takes me through her day at preschool.

Those dimples are the only thing she got from her father. Some days, I’m grateful she has a piece of him, but most days, I feel like they’re a ticking time bomb. One day, the non-answer answers aren’t going to be enough for her, and then what will I do? My own parents don’t even?—

“Mama, I have portant news.” Audrey’s serious tone pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts.

“Yes, baby?”

She folds her hands and sits up straight.

Please, don’t tell me you’ve just had an accident,I silently beg. I can’t deal with any more bodily fluids today.

“I’m getting married tomorrow,” she announces.

I choke back my laugh, “You are? To who?”

“Whom.” Audrey corrects.

“Excuse me?” I sputter.

“Teacher says who is for owls,” she says matter-of-factly

You can’t say important or imagination but you know the correct usage of whom? Seriously? Maybe Teacher should focus on vowel sounds instead of teaching you to correct my grammar.

Emily, I scold myself, she’s a child. Your child. Is this really the hill you want to die on?

I take a breath and let it go slowly. There are more important issues to address here.

“Am I invited?” I ask.

Her little brow furrows. “I don’t think you’re allowed.”

My face scrunches, mirroring hers “Because I’ll be at work? Or is there another reason? Do you think I won’t like the groom?”

“Grayson’s my best friend.” She smiles. “You already like him.”

The image of a freckle-faced boy with a lopsided grin pops into my head, and I smile.

“You’re right. I do like him. His parents are nice too, so you have my full approval. So, why can’t I come?” I ask again.

“Are you allowed to go if you’re not married?” Audrey wonders.

“You don’t have to be married to go to a wedding.”

“But you weren’t at Nana and Pop’s wedding,” she says.

“I wasn’t born. I wasn’t even in Nana’s tummy yet.”

Audrey purses her lips. “Well, you weren’t at Teacher’s wedding.”

“Neither were you,” I challenge.

“I’m not married yet. That’s why I couldn’t go,” she asserts.

I groan and rub my temples. Why am I trying to reason with a toddler? It’s about as effective as cutting grass with safety scissors.

“Why aren’t you married? Did you ask my daddy and he said no? Did he go away before you could ask him?” She gasps. “Did you say no?”

Before I can even begin thinking about how to answer those questions, my phone starts ringing. It’s Jenna’s ringtone. Normally, I dread these after-hours calls, but right now, I’m ready to cry with relief.

“Excuse me, Your Highness. I have an urgent summons from my boss.” I smile apologetically at Audrey.

She waves me off regally and turns to chat with Mr. Teddy, who had also joined us for tea.

“Emily, thank goodness,” a raspy voice greets me. “I was worried you’d send me straight to voicemail.”

“Jenna, you sound horrible. Please tell me you’re not at work.”

She coughs wetly for a moment then answers, “I wasn”t supposed to be there at all today, but?—”

“So you need me to handle your patients tomorrow?” I ask, cutting her off.

“No. I”ve got everyone covered except one patient who was supposed to see me today.” Jenna stops to catch her breath. “I tried rescheduling, but he insisted he could only come today.”

“Who does this jerk think he is, the president or something?” I huff in annoyance.

The length of her silence makes me anxious. Either she”s just died or my snarky comment was right.

“Jenna, please tell me it”s not the president. I don”t think I can handle that responsibility.”

“Don”t make me laugh. It’ll make me cough more. I”m in line at the pharmacy so I can”t say much, but they”re a silver sticker patient and the director”s on my ass about rolling out the red carpet.”

“Are you sure it”s actually a celebrity this time? Because the last time he said that it ended up being his future father-in-law,” I say dryly.

Her chuckle turns into a cough, making me feel extremely guilty.

“It”s the real deal this time,” Jenna insists.

I glance over at Audrey and bite my lip. This could be a good contact to have if I”m ever going to be able to start my own practice, but it”s also about an hour or so away from bedtime. It”s difficult enough getting her to bed on a normal day. Trying to get her to sleep after a disruption to our routine will be impossible. If I say yes, I”m kissing any chance of sleep tonight goodbye.

Jenna must sense my indecision because she says, “If you do this for me, I”ll file your reports for an entire week.”

“Throw in my requisition forms and you have a deal,” I say, pushing my luck.

She sighs. “Fine, you”ve got a deal.

Damn, this guy must really be a big deal. She usually does everything she can to get out of doing those.

“When do I need to be there?” I ask.

“In about thirty minutes,” she says sheepishly.

“Seriously, Jenna?” I grumble. “No way am I going to be able to find a sitter and get there on time. It takes twenty-five minutes on a good day.”

“I told him he might have to wait a while for you to get there, and believe me, I tried to get him to reschedule, but he said he”d wait there all night if that”s what he needed to do to get seen today,” Jenna says apologetically.

“I”ll get there as fast as I can,” I promise. “And is there anything I can bring you on my way there or back? You really don”t sound good.”

“Dr. Kang’s got me covered. I”m picking up the antibiotics now, and Henry”s home making me some soup. He tried to tell me he”d call Cara and have her pick them up on the way home from college, but I just couldn”t take any more of his fussing over me like a nervous hen. I had to get out of the house. He”s insufferable. You”re lucky not to have to deal with any of that.”

Yeah, lucky me, all alone.

I”m not saying I”d kill for a husband like Henry to fuss over me when I”m sick, but I”d certainly consider maiming someone for the chance.

As soon as I hang up with Jenna, I fire off a series of panicked texts to my parents explaining the situation and begging one of them to come over and watch Audrey.

Two minutes pass. No response.

Five minutes. My hand is cramping from how hard I’m gripping the phone.

I know Jenna said he’d wait for me, but the closer I am to being on time, the better an impression I can make. If he’s actually a celebrity and I make a good impression, then maybe he’ll refer other patients my way. Then those patients will refer other patients, and by the time I’ve saved enough to open my practice, I’ll have a massive network of high-paying clients!

Slow down, girl. You haven’t even laid eyes on the man yet. Not to mention he’s already being a diva about the appointment date. Are you sure you want to put all your eggs in that basket?

I shake my head to clear away the fantasy and unlock my phone to call my parents. It’s unlike them not to have responded yet, but before I can navigate to my contacts, Mom’s heavy knock rattles the front door.

“Did you run down the street to get here?” I laugh, waving her inside.

“If you must know, I power walked.” Mom sasses me, but then her brows knit together and she says, “You did say it was urgent.”

“It is.” I nod. “Jenna’s sick, and there’s a high-profile patient who won’t reschedule their appointment for love or money. Normally, I’d say no, but?—”

“If you make a good impression, it could help you later on. I know, Love. Go on.” She shoos me with her hands. “Get out of here.”

I throw my arms around her and kiss her cheek. “You are the best. I love you.”

I drop a quick kiss on the top of Audrey’s head and race out the door.

“Emily, your clothes!” my mother shouts from the window.

Without stopping, I shout over my shoulder, “I have emergency scrubs in my office.”

Driving in plastic shoes isn’t the easiest thing in the world, but I manage to get to the hospital in record time. I try not to dwell on the fact that if Audrey had been in the car with me, I’d probably have been arrested for child endangerment. Honestly, it was a small miracle I hadn’t run into a single cop on my way there… or gotten into a wreck.

My hands shake as my nerves catch up to me.

How could I be so stupid? At the speed I was going, one wrong move could have orphaned my daughter.

Mom guilt later,I tell myself. Parking spot now.

I scan the limited parking at the front of the hospital. While I’d rather not walk through the main entrance looking like a Disney Princess reject, it is the fastest way to my office. It’s that weird time of day where the afternoon emergencies have been discharged but the evening emergency patients might not have taken over the entire parking lot yet.

Please, please, please let there be a spot for me.

Yes!

I spy an empty spot right near the front. With how tightly wound I am right now, I nearly tear up at the sight of it. My shoulders slowly drop away from my ears. I take a deep breath.

This is a good sign. I’ll be able to slip in quickly, read Jenna’s notes, and be ready for whoever is waiting to meet me.

An obnoxiously green sports car whips into the spot I’m about to turn into.

Shit.

I slam my foot on the brakes to avoid T-boning them and lean on the horn.

Of course, it’s a man who hops out of the car.

You’d think after cutting me off and almost causing an accident, he’d show a little remorse, right? Maybe he’d flash a guilty grimace or give an apologetic wave. That’s what a normal person would do. Does he do that? No.

This jerk slides out of his car as cool as a cucumber and has the nerve to make the universal what the hell hand gesture at me. My brain must be short-circuiting because all I can do is stare at him with my mouth hanging open like a guppy.

He takes a few steps toward my car. I can see his mouth moving but I can’t make out what he’s saying. Against my better judgment, I roll down the window.

“What?” I snap.

“Are you going to tell me what you want from me or are you going to keep blocking my way?” he asks cooly.

Everything that’s gone wrong today spins around my head like a demon carousel—the elderly patient collapsing in the waiting room, the pediatric patient vomiting on me during exercises, stubbing my toe twice, guilt over leaving Audrey, and then this asshole.

“What do I want? I want you to be a decent human being and not snipe spots out from other people who were going to park there first. I want you to be someone whose head isn’t so far up his ass that he can see his own ileum and apologize to me for being smug instead of sorry. And you know what? Whatever you’re here for, I hope it’s terminal.”

I peel out so fast the tires screech.

My breaths are jagged. My heart is still pounding in my chest when I reach the parking garage elevator. I can’t believe I said all that. I don’t even regret it. It felt amazing to get everything off my chest instead of burying it under a cheerful bedside manner. My hands are still shaking and I can’t stop pacing. I’ve already pressed the elevator button three times. Where is it?

I try to calm down. There’s no way I can see a patient like this, especially not one this important—unless the director was lying through his teeth again.

Stairs. I need to take the stairs.

When I reach the fourth floor, I’m still out of breath but in a better mindset to work with a patient. I slip through the back entrance and hastily change into my scrubs.

At the door of my office, I do my habitual double-check.

Scrubs and sneakers?

On.

Hair?

Up.

Embarrassing dress and plastic shoes?

Banished to the darkest corner of my office closet.

Ready to make a life-changing first impression?

Absolutely.

Based on the low murmuring I can hear from the waiting room, my patient is already here. I”m only five minutes late. In hospital time, it”s twenty minutes early, so things are looking good.

I stop at Jenna’s office to grab the file and skim over it as I walk to the front of our wing.

LaRue—in the system under mother’s maiden name (Kozlov) for security purposes.

The name is familiar, but I’m not sure why.

With my face still buried in the chart, I shoulder open the door.

“Mr. Kozlov, I”m Emily and I”ll be your physical therapist to?—”

The rest of the sentence dies in my throat as I look up from the chart.

All the blood drains from my face.

I might not know why this man is famous, but I recognize him instantly.

He’s the jerk I”d just been screaming at in the parking lot.