Losing my soccer scholarship left me scrambling to find a way to afford my college tuition. Thankfully, I landed a gig as a translator for a minor-league Russian hockey player.The initial enthusiasm was short lived when I realized my new client was the same arrogant jerk who came on to me at the bar the night before.Though our working relationship began as friendly as a mid-ice body check, I started seeing a softer side to Aleksandr Varenkov--one that left me fantasizing about a trip for two to the sin bin.After all I’ve been through, I can’t risk letting my guard down for chiseled muscles and an alluring grin. But how can I resist an attraction hot enough to melt the ice?
