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She held up her hand. "As far as I know, I'm clear, and you may believe the same about yourself. But let's get the paperwork so neither of us has to worry about it. Sound reasonable?"

He nodded, his eyes still wide.

She felt better, seeing that he wasn't as in control as she'd thought. "Hey, relax! Remember, this was both our fantasies. If it doesn't work, at least we're giving it a shot. That's more than most people would dare."

"Much more," he said hoarsely.

"So, rah rah for courage and the unexpected!"

"Rah rah," he repeated faintly.

"Not something to put on my r£sum£, but maybe something to put in my memoirs, eh?"

"Emma, I-" he started, and then stopped, the words hanging there.

"You-?"

"I-I never expected something like this."

She wondered if that was what he had meant to say, but smiled. "Like I said before: it's the unexpected that keeps life interesting."

Chapter Five

Russ took a hit and landed flat on his back on the ice, staring up through his mask at the high ceiling of the Aurora Ice Arena. A moment later his teammate Greg appeared through his gridded vision, reaching down a gloved hand to help him up.

"You've got to keep your head up, Russ," Greg said as Russ regained his feet. They skated over to the box together and climbed over the wall, switching out with fresh players. "You know that; you've got the best vision of anyone on the ice. What's going on? You've been playing like a 'pod all night."

" 'Pod" was short for tripod, a novice player who used his hockey stick like a third leg. "My head's not in the game," Russ admitted.

Greg thumped Russ's helmet with his stick. "Get it in the game or you're going to get hurt."

He was right; injuries happened when you weren't paying full attention. In their thirty-five-and-over amateur hockey league, injuries were scrupulously avoided. One bad knee blowout could end your days on the ice forever.

It was Emma Mayson who was screwing up his game. Since yesterday's wild conversation, he hadn't been able to concentrate on anything except the accidental agreement they'd made.

Today at work Kevin had glumly a

Russ had given a one-shoulder shrug. It wasn't as if he could tell his friend, "Don't feel bad. The real reason she canceled is so that I can pay her for sex three times a week."

Christ.

With great effort he kept his focus for the remaining ten minutes of the game, but as soon as it was over and he was heading to the locker room, his thoughts went back to Emma. The other guys were laughing and bantering about the game, giving each other a hard time and reliving the highs and lows as they showered and dressed, cans of La-batt's beer appearing out of gear bags and getting tossed to eager hands. It was all white noise.

Why the hell hadn't he cleared things up the moment he realized she thought he wanted her to be his mistress? The words had been halfway out his mouth before a voice inside had stopped him. She's already agreed to it, the voice said. She'd be humiliated if he told her he'd only meant to have di

He'd thought that the best way to save her from embarrassment was to wait a few days and then tell her that he'd changed his mind and only wanted her to cook for him. He'd say that his conscience had bothered him, and that he could tell that she didn't truly want to do it.

All of which sounded well and good, but why, then, had he made an appointment to see his doctor and get a physical?