Not that Rose cared—and she knew that neither did any of the other women in the room if they were honest. What mattered was that the guys were all hot. This press jaunt wasn’t about sport. It was about sex. Sex sold everything nowadays.

Women wanted them. Men wanted to be like them. She wanted a couple of ice hockey players to do a guest spot for her dating agency. It was publicity money couldn’t buy, and as she didn’t have very much money she intended to use charm to get what she wanted. A Southern woman’s greatest asset.

It was why she hadn’t approached the Wolves management team with her request. She had decided to put her man-handling skills to the ultimate test.

Except the best of the bunch, Mr Tall, Bored and Built, was the one footing the bill, and Rose suddenly knew she was in a lot of trouble—because feminine instinct told her Plato Kuragin wasn’t a man she could handle. At all.

Rose had never seen a man less in need of a dating agency. He was built like an athlete, but everything about him asserted authority and power. She didn’t have to be told who he was. Oh, yes, this was the guy who would cause her some trouble.

Well, her daddy hadn’t raised a quitter, and that was why she was standing here in the middle of a media scrum in Toronto’s Dorrington Hotel with that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

People were firing questions at him in Russian and English, and although she didn’t understand much of it she heard every word said in the deep, deliberate voice from up front. Wanting to get another look at him, Rose shuffled sideways in an effort to detach herself from the scrum.

‘Pardon. Sorry. Just a sec—sorry.’

This wasn’t strictly necessary—in fact understated to the point of invisible was supposed to be her modus operandi—but she now had an uninterrupted view. A daunting view.

Thank God he wasn’t in her plan. She could not possibly approach this man.

And then she realised he’d stopped speaking. He was looking at her. His eyes, so deep and intense in their regard, were riveted on hers, and what she saw in them had a direct effect on her breathing. As in it completely stopped.

He angled his big muscular body towards her and what broke the spell, Rose realised, was the fact that she’d stepped towards him. Just fractionally, but clearly enough for him to notice.

Also enough to step on the back of the shoe of the woman in front of her, who said something rude. And then the facilitator standing on the podium made a gesture towards her and said, ‘Anglisti? English?’

A microphone was shoved in front of her face. Rose looked down at it and back up into those spectacular, mesmerising eyes that were … Why was he looking at her like that?

Ask a question, Rose. He wants you to ask him a question.

Her throat, already dry and unaccountably scratchy, was constricted. She ran her tongue along her bottom lip. From somewhere her voice came, all high and breathy and really, really Texan.

‘Are y’all single?’

PLATO was not a fan of the media, but he knew how to play their game. You turned up; you used the publicity; you told them nothing.

Not that it would stop the tabloid reports, but it might deflect somewhat from the constant stream of drivel emanating from his last five-minute girlfriend about blondes and orgies on super-yachts. The bath of vintage champagne a burlesque dancer was supposed to have performed in at his recent twenty-eighth birthday celebration was the most current story doing the rounds. Yet, despite that last report actually being true, there was something belittling about seeing it all strung out like so many coloured lights—as if in the end this was his net worth. Lurid entertainment for the masses.

His media profile, however, helped out the team, and he had turned up today to give the coach and the boys the benefit of his press exposure.

It was a simple meet-and-greet before the match, but his mind was elsewhere. He’d spent this morning at a local gaol as his lawyers went through the paperwork to get two of his best players out of the cells. They were both currently holed up in a hotel room with Security. He didn’t trust them on their own. But it was only a matter of time before the story broke.