 
Thin

Ice

# The Savannah Slashers Series

## Book 3

### Thin Ice

By April Cronin

Copyright © 2016 April Cronin

ISBN-13: 978-1-370-55553-6

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the author.

Cover Art by Clinton Williams Art

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
A word from the Author;

Due to the delicate nature of this novel I wanted to take a moment and share my thoughts and feelings on the matter. Rape and Sexual assault are a horrific part of our culture. For anyone who has ever been a victim of sexual abuse, you have my deepest sympathies, and my heart goes out to you.

I am myself a victim of sexual abuse, I have seen both sides of the law. I have been both protected and abandoned by the justice system, and no matter the outcome, you still lose a little piece of yourself.

Ten years ago, a false claim of rape or assault was unheard of, those kinds of things just didn't happen. But with our society changing so dramatically, becoming perhaps, a little desensitized even, people are constantly looking for the next "get rich quick" scheme.

That is NOT to say that every woman who says she was assaulted is lying. In fact, I'd wager that most are still telling the truth. However, it only takes one liar to cast doubt upon the many others telling the truth, and who better than the rich and famous to prey on?

Please remember that this is a FICTIONAL story. Though celebrities and athletes have been facing such accusations over the years, this novel is in no way my opinion or beliefs on such cases. Every case is unique and only those involved know the truth. I wrote Thin Ice inspired by the things going on in society today, but again, NOT based on any actual event, and any similarities or parallels are purely coincidence. I wanted to give my readers a villain they could truly despise, and as such, there is no gray area where she and her intent are concerned.

On a side note, as you read Thin Ice please remember that Petrovsky "Peter" Petrovic is Russian and is still learning the English language, so at times, when it seems his speech is stunted or broken, it was written that way on purpose!

I hope you enjoy Thin Ice, happy reading!

-April

For Artemi Panarin of the Chicago Blackhawks;

Peter simply wouldn't exist without you!

And for my dear friend Jessica;

You ARE Harmony in so many ways!

### Chapter 1

The Man on the Motorcycle

Looking through the books, for the second time that day, Harmony sighed. She was by no means an accountant, and probably should have left such menial tasks in the hands of her aunt Mary, who did, in fact, specialize in that department, but seeing as she hadn't much else to do for the day, here she was, pouring over company financials.

It wasn't that they weren't turning a profit, they'd been in the black more often than not, but some months they were so close to the red that Harmony feared her father might consider selling the place again. With that new Walmart going in down the street, things were only going to get worse, and her father, Bill, had recently had more than one such offer to sell out to Whole Foods or some other retail conglomerate.

They were all extremely interested in the large piece of real estate, and the clientele that came with it. Such places weren't scared off by the fact that Walmart was moving into the neighborhood. Of course, some of them hadn't even offered market value! The nerve!

But Harmony didn't want to sell. She loved the place, and one day, she hoped to run it herself. Her father had taken that into account, and since she had already been promoted to assistant manager, he told her that if she could turn things around, if she could compete with Walmart, and keep turning a profit for at least a year after they had opened, he would refrain from selling and she could take over the business completely, he was more than ready to retire as it was.

With that in mind, Harmony went through every ledger and document she could get her hands on. There had to be some way to make improvements. Things weren't exactly broken, but if she could cut costs and save the customers more money on the back end, then they might just make it. But where did she find the extra money?

They weren't an overly large grocery store, probably no bigger than the average Winn Dixie in the area, but they were a standalone. And that mattered. Her grandfather had bought the four acres with his own inheritance, and though he had originally dreamed of opening a hardware store, his lovely wife had convinced them they would do better in the grocery business.

And so it was. Being a general contractor himself, he drew up his own plans, hired a crew and set about building the Hometown Grocery Mart. More than fifty years later and they were still going strong. Well, sort of. Their overhead wasn't too bad, and since they owned the land they operated on, there was no rent to pay, just utilities. They worked with the local and nationwide farmers as much as possible, which kept costs down as far as importing went, not to mention giving the local community of farmers a boost and kept food on their tables as well.

And as far as the items they did have to import, well, Bill was a wiz when it came to negotiations, so they usually got the best deals, sometimes even better than the corporate ventures. They carried a staff of about fifty, mostly part-timers, but the few that were full time had decent benefits, and everyone was paid above minimum wage and according to their level of work ethic.

They could definitely cut costs there, do away with bonuses, less raises, or require more out of pocket for the 401k and health benefits, but Harmony didn't want to go there. These people were like family to her, and honestly, she'd rather take a pay cut herself than mess with somebody else's livelihood. No, there had to be another way, and she'd find it.

Sighing again, she set down her pencil and pinched the bridge of her nose, rubbing her eyes and leaning back in her chair. Harmony was exhausted. She'd closed last night, and today, her one day off, had so far been spent in the office at her father's house going over paperwork. She just had to keep reminding herself how much the store meant to her, it was all worth it in the end.

The phone rang then, pulling her from further concentrating on the task at hand.

"Hello?" she said wearily.

"Harm? Is that you?" Her father asked on the other end of the line.

"Yes Daddy, it's me. What's up?"

"Oh, I'm so glad I caught you, I thought you might have gone home already. I uh, I need you to come in."

Today was the one day of the week her father worked. Even though she was just the assistant manager, she pretty much had free rein and ran the day to day of things. They had two shift supervisors as well, and between the three of them they rotated who opened and who closed each day, but on Wednesday's, Bill worked the entire day.

"Ugh." She grumbled, "somebody called out I take it?"

"Yes, Shelia says the kids are sick, and she can't find a babysitter. I'm sorry to do this on your day off..." He said, sounding sincerely distraught, "but darling, I'm afraid I need you."

Stretching, Harmony yawned before standing and leaning over the desk, the phone cord extended to the max, though why her father still had the ancient style phone was beyond her. "I'll be right there." She assured him, hanging up and heading out the door.

Harmony knew once her father retired, she'd have even more days like this one, better to get used to it now.

Peter revved the Ducati's engine, the sound akin to a lion's roar. The powerful machine quivered beneath him like a thoroughbred racehorse prepared to bolt from the starting gate. He liked how it felt, the raw energy coursing through him as he sat at the red light on Main street, in the middle of nowhere, Pooler Georgia, to be exact, aka bum fucked Egypt.

He'd only had the bike for a couple of weeks now, so it was still a rush every time he started that engine. Peter had gotten a driver's license upon moving to the US from Russia the year prior, but waited until this offseason to get his motorcycles endorsement, then he shopped around.

Since he lived with an American family for the better part of the first year of his residency, he was granted access to the old beat up Toyota they'd owned, but once the money from his contract started coming in, he looked at something of his own. After adopting Sadie, a dog he'd done a calendar shoot with just before the holidays, he picked up a second hand Honda from one of the used car dealerships in town, but he wanted something more.

Most of the guys on the team drove SUV's or pickup trucks, all of them expensive and decked out, and a couple of his teammates had sports cars, but it was Andre who had turned him onto the idea of a motorcycle. He had continuously bragged about the BMW he was going to buy himself one day, but Peter didn't see the sense in owning one of those.

He figured you either went one of two ways; you got a Harley or a Ducati. So he started going over his options. In the end, while he drove around town in the second hand Honda he'd picked up to cart his dog around in, he decided against a Harley. Maybe when he was older and had a woman to tote around, or wanted to just 'cruise' around town.

Not now, though. By his way of thinking, before he had purchased the bike, he had been on top of the world, a candidate for the Norris Trophy this past season, and his team had been on track to win the Stanley Cup as well, so he had decided once the season was over, he'd make the purchase, no matter how expensive it was.

Peter didn't get out much, he was still trying to get used to the language and the customs, so he had a sizable chunk of change in his bank account. Though he was no longer living with the Langsley's, his rent was reasonable. He shared a townhouse near downtown Savannah with his teammate and fellow countrymen Viktor Bortnik. So expenses were pretty manageable. Andre Lepowski had lived with them too, up until a couple of weeks ago, when Donovan, another of their teammates had offered him his Condo on Jones St.

Donovan Pierce, alternate captain of the team, and recent Conn Smythe winner, as the Savannah Slashers had, in fact, won the Stanley Cup, beating the Anaheim Ducks 4-2 in the series, had met his match in a feisty nurse, the two of them meeting when Donovan was involved in a car accident, and though they didn't hit it off at first, Donovan had clearly won her over, as they had just bought a house together.

So Andre, wanting his own place, had agreed to rent Donovan's place for a year, he'd decide after that if he wanted to buy it or not. His contract was up for renewal this offseason, so he didn't want to make any big purchases until a deal with the Slashers was inked. Ending up on the trade block was always a possibility.

Peter himself had just signed his own deal recently, as the two-year entry level contract he had, came to an end. While he didn't have any notions of his own to get into the real estate market just yet, he could if he wanted to. He'd just inked an eight-year deal for six million a year after all.

No, one thing at a time. He had a car, a reliable one, but he wanted something more. Something fast and flashy. A toy. A Ducati. And now he had one. He bought it on the fourth of July, and how cool had it been to ride down the highway, stopping from time to time to watch the colorful fireworks exploding in the midnight sky like paint splattering on a canvas?

And the bike itself? God, he was in love! It was a sleek black animal, of carbon fiber and titanium, nearly 200 horsepower, illegal in some countries. He'd bought a stripped down version and sent it off to NCR Corse, in Italy, later importing it to America. It had cost him a small fortune, he probably could have bought a pretty nice house for what he'd paid for the motorcycle, and surely his mother would flip once she found out, but it was his. The NCR Millona 16, one of the world's rarest sports bikes, and it was all his.

He was glad he'd waited until after the season was over, though, at least this way he hadn't had to hear Coach gripe about being careful. After Donovan's accident, which luckily hadn't been season ending, Coach Turski had been on a tirade about driving safely. Not that he could afford to be injured in a crash even now, but practices were limited as of now, and preseason training was still a couple of months away, so he wasn't around Coach for him to know about the bike just yet. Best keep it that way for a little while longer.

Peter intended to go home to Russia in a few weeks, once he got his time alone with the Stanley Cup, so he was spending his free time now getting used to the bike, and doing some sightseeing along the way. Which was why he was here, in the middle of Nowheresville Georgia. He was a good half hour west of Savannah. It was a pleasant enough town called Pooler, population 21,000.

The traffic light seemed to take forever, hence why Peter had decided to give the bike a little rev. He liked the sound, a deep masculine roar. He was pretty shy by nature, but there was still his deep Russian ancestry to contend with. Many of his ancestors had likely been large domineering individuals, his own father was a pretty big guy. So there were times when he perhaps lost control so to speak, this was one of those times.

A couple of teenagers walking along the sidewalk stopped and stared. The girls giggling as they pointed to him, the guys with them slapping high fives once they recognized the type of motorcycle he was riding. It made him feel good, as though he were showing off to an audience.

He was used to such performances, after all, it was part of his profession. He enjoyed hockey, the feel of the frozen ice as he glided across it, slapping the puck past a confused goalie, it was all a lot of fun for him, and very competitive. Without the fans, though, it would just be a bunch of guys skating around and smacking a piece of rubber down the ice. So he figured he was a bit of an actor as well.

A thirsty actor.

Peter spied a grocery store just down the way, figuring that was as good a place as any to grab something to drink. Maybe he'd pick up a sandwich or something too, he thought as his stomach began to protest. Breakfast had been a little while ago, and though he'd been through a few towns already, he hadn't considered stopping for any reason until now.

Pulling into the parking lot of the HomeTown Grocery Mart, Peter gave the building a once-over. Unlike most grocery stores he'd seen since coming to America, this one wasn't attached to a strip mall, or surrounded by any other buildings for that matter. It was a good sized building in a large lot that was meticulously landscaped.

The owners of this establishment took obvious pride in their store, as the red brick exterior was vibrant, the tin roof gleaming in the sun, and the white trim blinding when he looked right at it. There were a couple of cart returns in the lot, but they were devoid of carts, though the parking lot was relatively full of cars for the time of day.

Adding it all up, he decided the owners ran a tight ship, and he admired that. Too many times he'd gone to places in or around Savannah that could have learned a thing or two by studying this place. Appearances were everything.

And the outside was just the tip of the iceberg.

The store was sectioned off into the traditional different parts, the bakery to the right, which boasted goods that were all made in store, nothing bought and shipped, a produce section to the left that had pictures above it of various local growers, and all of the produce seemed to be in good shape at that, not a dark spot or speck of rot to be seen, and it was split into two subsections, organic and non. The back of the store made up the deli, meat department and dairy, all in one section. And like most stores, the dried goods were in the center.

What was uniquely different, however, was the frozen section. In the back left corner of the store, where the meat and dairy section ended, after spanning almost the entire back wall, was a large walk in. Curiosity overcoming him, Peter walked into it and noticed row upon row of frozen goods. Certainly seemed like an easier way to do things instead of having to open door after door to see what was inside!

It was quite a store indeed. There was even a section built onto the side that opened from the produce area to an outdoor add-on that housed plants, gardening supplies, a limited amount of hardware and sporting goods as well as a couple of aisles dedicated to animals and farming supplies. If they'd only sold clothing too it would have been a real one stop shop. It was simply amazing to see such an eclectic mix of stuff under one roof.

Strolling along the pet food and supplies, Peter noticed the brand of dog treats his dog loved, and unable to help himself, pulled a couple of packs off the shelf. Normally he would have had to go to a specialty store to find these, and the cost was significantly more than it was here. He had a small storage space under the seat of his bike, so he figured, what the hell? Why not? Surely Sadie wouldn't mind.

Peter went to the deli next and ordered a sandwich, grabbing a pickle and a bottle of water to go along with it before heading for the registers up front to pay for his purchases. The lines, though long when he had first come in seemed to have slacked off a little, so he picked the one closest to the door and got behind a woman with a fussy toddler. She was doing her best to console the little red headed tyrant, but as he kept reaching out for the candy bars and she had to push his hands away, it didn't seem like she was gaining any ground with him. Frustrating herself in the process.

He smiled when she looked back at him, embarrassment written plainly on her face, her eyes tired with dark circles underneath.

Peter shrugged, "kids." He said, trying to ease her frazzled nerves.

She smiled back at him, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes, and nodding, just before she turned back to the squirming little boy and caught his hands as he reached for a chocolate bar again.

Harmony had watched him drive up. She'd been standing near the doors, cleaning up a spill as she heard the motorcycle pull into the lot. She remembered shivering as he came to a stop, kicking out the stand and leaning the bike against it. A Ducati, she thought to herself. Harmony owned a little yellow Miata herself, a gift from her grandfather on her twenty-first birthday, but she'd always had a thing for motorcycles. Especially good quality ones like the Ducati he'd rode up on.

It was Black, with red accents, and shone brightly in the sun, like it had just been waxed, or was perhaps even brand new, yeah she'd almost bet on that. Right off the showroom floor. Not a scratch on it, probably not even a smeared bug yet. It was a fine specimen if she'd ever seen one.

The driver wasn't too bad either.

Since he was still a good way out, Harmony couldn't make out his precise features, but as he pulled off his helmet, and shook his shaggy hair, it glinted like gold in the sunlight. He then took off the bike's seat, securing his helmet, and Harmony followed his motions with her gaze, traveling the length of his body.

He was clad in a dark washed pair of blue jeans, with black riding boots, and as her eyes traveled up his long lean body she noticed the black leather jacket he wore too. Tailored to fit. He looked like some sort of rock star.

When he turned to walk towards the door, he unzipped his jacket, shoving a hand inside and pulling out a pair of aviators, quickly slipping them on. He stretched then, the white t-shirt he was wearing riding up a little to expose the pale and utterly chiseled abs underneath. It was enough to make Harmony's mouth water, and she had to shake her head to get her mind back in order.

Making herself scarce, and not because she didn't want him to catch her staring, but because they were shorthanded, and she needed to get back to work, or so she told herself, Harmony walked into the back office and began working on the afternoon paperwork.

She hoped that by the time she was needed back out on the floor he'd be long gone. Harmony wasn't very good at hiding her emotions. Was even less adept at keeping her mouth shut, so probably better off for her if she didn't run into him.

Of course, wouldn't you know, when it was time to relieve one of the cashiers for her break, who but the singularly most attractive man she'd ever seen in her life, would be in line waiting to check out? From the corner of her eyes, as she rang up the purchases of one of her regulars, she noticed him smile and comment to a young mother who was having a hard time keeping her little one in line. Though the exchange was fuzzy to her, it made her heart sink anyways. Good looking and a gentleman! Was there any other kind?

Yes. Of course, there was. And she knew it too. She'd experienced firsthand what other kind of men there were out there. Not all the venomous snakes in the world wore brightly colored skins, and it was those, the ones who fooled you into believing their lies most easily that women needed to worry about.

The young woman with the child was next. And while she slid her items across the price scanner she noticed the man thumbing through a copy of one of the latest tabloids. Could he be gay? No. She shook that thought almost immediately. Yes, a lot of gay men were attractive, and certainly took care of their bodies as he so obviously did, but he gave off such a vibe of masculinity that it practically reverberated throughout her system.

She made small talk with the woman in front of her, talking to the child as well, he was an adorable little imp and the spitting image of his mother, and all the while, she studied the man in the motorcycle garb. However, if he noticed her peeking from the corner of her vision at him, he gave no indication of it. He still had his aviators on, though, so she probably wouldn't have known if he had been staring at her in return or not, but his face gave nothing away to the contrary.

Once it was his turn, and his purchases slid to the front of the conveyor, a roast beef sandwich, a pickle, a bottle of water, and a couple of bags of dog treats, he took off his glasses and smiled at her.

And her world turned upside down.

Harmony gasped, her hand lifting to her mouth to hide the hopefully inaudible sound. No such luck. His boyish smile widened, his head cocking to the side.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft, but thickly accented.

### Chapter 2

You are Fan No?

Harmony nodded. Turning away for a second she coughed and tried to gather what was left of her composure. With the glasses on he exuded such sexuality that it nearly radiated off him in waves, but with the aviators gone, and that roguish smile spread across his face, the entire package was breathtakingly beautiful.

Yes, he, a man, was beautiful. His hair was golden, with darker streaks throughout, and it curled at the ends, it was worn shaggy and as it was slightly damp from his helmet it lent him a windswept quality that she found completely erotic. His jaw was angular, his chin strong and rounded, his nose straight, and his lips full, totally kissable.

Oh god, she had to get a hold of herself! But how could she when Adonis himself were standing before her, smiling and looking so sinfully delicious?

And his eyes! Oh god, if he kept looking at her that way! Harmony's knees felt weak, she had to brace herself against the counter as she started to ring him up. But she couldn't help staring, she was almost embarrassed that she couldn't pull her gaze from him, she was so flustered she accidentally rang up the dog treats one time too many.

"Shoot. I'm sorry about that. Here, let me fix it." She said, thumbing herself mentally for the lapse.

He shook his head. "No, no. Is okay. I will go and get one more."

"You're sure?"

"Da. I mean, yes." He assured her, smiling again.

A smile that reached all the way to his eyes. Eyes so blue, and so crystal clear, they may have well as been made of ice! And his thick blonde brows, they were so expressive, it made his gaze that much more intense as he cocked one upward.

Being the recipient of such a smile, Harmony gulped. "Thanks," she whispered.

And then it hit her. She'd seen this man before! Okay, so maybe she hadn't seen him in person, but she'd seen a picture! And of course, it was then that her verbal diarrhea took over.

"Hey! I know you! You're that Petrovic guy, right? Petrovsky...Petrovsky Petrovic, that's it!"

His smile widened, as if that were even possible. The sight of it sending little butterflies soaring in her stomach.

"Da. Yes, I am Peter Petrovic." He leaned forward, catching a glimpse of her name tag. "Is nice to meet you... Harmony." He said, extended a hand to her and saying her name with such softness, it made her heart flutter as well.

"It's nice to meet you too... Peter." She replied, taking his hand and giving it a shake.

The moment they made contact, a bolt of electricity shot through her, gasping as she pulled back more quickly than she would have liked to, Peter laughed, causing her to wonder if he had felt it too. It wasn't like anything she had ever encountered before, certainly, nothing like one would have expected from static electricity. No, this was different. If was like a lightning bolt had singed her hand where their skin met, shocking her to the very core.

"You are fan of the Slashers Miss Harmony?" He asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

She shook her head, "What? Oh no, I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry."

"Oh, um, what I meant was, no, I'm not. I uh, I have the Slasher's calendar, the one you guys did last year... with the animals. You know?" She said, laughing uncomfortably as she caught her breath. "You were Mr. January, right?"

"Da." He said, chuckling to himself. "Yes. It was... good experience."

She smiled then, she liked the sound of his voice, even with his thick Russian accent, it retained a melodious quality. Smooth, like a good vodka.

She finished scanning his items, placing them in a bag, "you like animals then?" She inquired, indicating the bags of treats and touching on their earlier conversation.

"Yes. Dog from calendar.."

"Sadie?" Harmony supplied for him, causing him to hang onto that marvelous smile of his.

"I.., how you say... adopted her? I think that is it."

"Adopted? Yes, that's the word. You adopted Sadie, the dog from the calendar then? That's so sweet. And she's a beautiful Belgian."

He looked surprised, his eyes darkening a little. "You know dogs then?"

"Yeah, I have a shepherd myself, of the German variety. My grandmother raised sheep, so we've had lots of dogs, mostly herding dogs." Harmony noticed the line was starting to back up at that point. She needed to move things along.

But she didn't want to.

She could stand here and talk to Peter all day. He was charming, with his handsome yet somehow boyish features, his smile, all sexy and taunting. Yeah, she could look at Peter forever if he'd let her.

Blinking a couple of times, trying to clear the haze, Harmony took his money and started to cash him out.

"You don't live around here, do you? I'm sure I would've heard about it if you did. Maybe you just moved into the area?" She continued, not wanting the conversation to end.

Peter shook his head, "net. No, I live in Savannah, out for a ride. Is nice area."

She agreed and should have figured as much about him not living in the area. It would have been one hell of a commute from here to the rink where he played. Nodding in acknowledgment, and blabbering on before she could stop herself she heard herself say, "I live there too, I love the city. There's a nice dog park off of Victory Drive, it's part of Daffin Park, have you ever been there?"

She melted like butter as his lips parted, his white teeth peeking through as he smiled, too many more of those and she'd faint to the floor right here, like a puddle of goo. God, it seemed as if all he did was smile! Peter had such a shy quality to him, it was almost endearing really. Sometimes, she even swore he blushed a little!

One of the bag boys came up then and handed Peter another thing of treats, obviously having eavesdropped on their conversation, and giving Harmony just the distraction she needed to get herself under control. She handed him his change, and he took it, quickly shoving it into his pocket, and grabbing the bag, giving her one more charming grin.

"Perhaps I will see you there? Da?" He said, turning and walking away.

Harmony nearly swooned. So much for control, she thought.

Peter laughed to himself as he put the bag under the seat of his motorcycle and pulled on his helmet. Straddling the big bike, he looked once more in the direction of the store windows and started the motorcycle, revving the engine a little before pulling out of the parking lot and heading to a park he'd seen on his way over. Once there, he pulled his food from the bag and sat down at a picnic table to eat his spoils.

He couldn't stop thinking about Harmony, though.

Harmony. What a beautiful name, and what a beautiful woman she was! Though he towered over her by nearly half a foot, she was every bit as striking as her name. Her hair was long and curled at the ends, the color a shade of brown so dark one might have called it mahogany. When she moved and her hair shifted, the light picked up several variations of red as well. It looked as soft and luxurious as the finest silk, and he had itched to reach out and touch it.

Her face was slightly rounded, perhaps even a little heart shaped, but she had high cheekbones, delicately arched eyebrows, a pert little nose and a dimple in her chin. Harmony's eyes were another thing. They were blue, but so dark he could have sworn they were violet. And where she lacked in height, she more than made up for in curves!

The woman was stacked on top and bottom, he thought the term was shaped like an hour glass? Yes, that was it! She had a trim waist, but her hips flared and rounded, and though she was a little shorter than most, probably no bigger than 5'4, she gave the appearance of having long legs.

Maybe her torso was a little on the petite side then? Either way, Harmony was a complete knockout! What Peter wouldn't give to be around a woman like that more often!

And why couldn't he?

He knew where she worked, he could come back and ask her out, couldn't he? He looked around, it was a nice area indeed, but he couldn't see himself riding out here all that often. Hadn't she said she lived in Savannah, though? Even gone so far as to mention some dog park on Victory Drive? Perhaps as he had said, he might just see her there!

Shortly after Peter had left, and the line dwindled down, one of the other cashiers named Kate, walked over from her station.

"He was certainly good looking eh?" she teased, wiggling her eyebrows as she spoke.

Harmony didn't need to ask who she was talking about either, as no one else in line had come remotely close to being as good looking as Peter, not to mention that most of the other patrons were either female or much older gentleman.

Counting out a deposit from the register she had taken over and turning out the light, Harmony shook her head. "Yes, he certainly was. He's a famous hockey player too."

Kate leaned against the side of the register. "Really? You don't say."

"He plays for the Slashers." Harmony remarked, tapping Kate on the shoulder to indicate that she shouldn't be leaning. "Why don't you go check on the cart situation outside?" she suggested.

Kate grumbled but headed outside to take care of the unpleasant task as asked, leaving Harmony to catch her breath as she strolled back to the office to drop the overflow of cash into the safe.

Peter had definitely made an impression, one that would take time to level out. So Harmony wanted a minute alone, a second to breathe.

No such luck.

As she finished straightening up the back office her father walked in, looking rather aggravated to boot.

"Hey, pop." She said, barely looking up from her paperwork. "What's a matter?"

"One of our vendors is threatening to pull out," he grumbled, pulling a pencil from behind his ears and twirling it between his fingers. "The price of grain is going up, and if we don't pay the difference, they pull their product."

"Consumer grain? Or is it for the livestock division?"

"Livestock, but I don't see why that matters."

Harmony looked up, a soft smile gracing her lips, "oh it matters," she said confidently.

"Humph, how do you figure?" Her father retorted.

"I've spent most of the morning trying to figure out where we could save a little, and I've come up with some ideas." She continued, watching as her father placed his hands on his hips and scowled at her. "Oh don't look at me that way, you knew this was coming," she scolded.

Bill shook his head, "I didn't figure you'd come up with something so fast!"

"Well, I did," Harmony affirmed, grabbing a folder she had brought in with her and pulling several sheets of paper out of it. "Take a look at some of our expense accounts." She shuffled a few sheets in front of him, spreading them out on the counter so he could take everything in at once. "I went through everything one section at a time, rather than by product category, and I highlighted everything that has a negative sold quantity, as in, we don't sell any at all." She pointed to the few items she'd mentioned, then took another sheet of paper out of the folder, handing it over as well. "And everything here has a high cost to profit ratio, in other words, we're not making much off of it."

Bill took a minute to look everything over, nodding as she explained her analysis, "looks like most of it is in the outdoor section." He commented.

Harmony nodded, pushing her hair back off her shoulders as she leaned in closer to her father, "exactly," she agreed. "Which is why I think we can eliminate carrying these products," Harmony tapped on a few of the highlighted lines, "and just offer to special order them if a customer asks, that way the inflated price gets paid, but not by us. We don't really make a profit on any of this stuff anyways, and we're usually in the red in that specific category, so if we just stop carrying it altogether, but keep a working relationship with the vendor, say, pushing their cards or passing out a flyer and letting them know we'll still offer specials on a limited basis, everyone should be happy."

Placing a hand on his daughter's shoulder, Bill smiled, "I knew I made the right decision in letting you take over. Great work Harmony. Let's get this done. And from now on, if you come across any other comparable findings, don't hesitate to make an executive decision, you obviously know which products sell and which ones don't."

Beaming from her father's compliment and vote of confidence, Harmony walked back out onto the floor with an added pep in her step. What a day it was turning out to be, even if she had been called into work on her day off!

Peter returned home that night just before the sun went down, pulling his motorcycle into the garage through the back alley to the townhouse. Since it was only a one car garage, even if it was a little over-sized, Peter had agreed to let Viktor park his car in there if he allowed Peter to put the bike in there as well. He certainly wasn't about to leave it in the alley, or even in the driveway for that matter.

Luckily they had an end unit, so there was space beside the driveway to park his little Honda, thus keeping it out of the way, and the drive clear so he wouldn't have to move it every time Viktor wanted to leave, but again, he wasn't leaving a Ducati out in the open overnight.

Hitting the button on his remote, he watched the garage door close with a soft whooshing sound, and unlocked the back door to the house. Sadie, running and jumping at him immediately, nearly knocked him down in the process, as she barked wildly.

"Okay, okay. Down Sadie," he said, laughing while he pushed frantically at the excited beast.

Within seconds an even louder, shrill bark, was heard from the stairway and a scraggly haired terrier made her descent, toppling down the last few steps as she tripped over her own two feet. Viktor was hot on her trail and yelling after her.

Peter knelt down, however, allowing both dogs to greet him properly, slobbering over every inch of his face.

"Dasha!" Viktor shouted, snagging the small terrier's attention, who crouched low to the floor and slunk over to him, rolling onto her back, her body wiggling from side to side once he bent over and began scratching her hairy belly. "Where have you been all day?" Viktor asked in their native tongue, scooping the little dog into his arms and going over to sit on the couch.

Peter opened the sliding glass door that led to their small fenced yard, Sadie dashing out as soon as she got the chance, and then went into the utility room, placing the dog treats in a closet and pouring a scoop of food into Sadie's bowl.

"I went for a ride. What did you do today?" He answered, asking a question of his own. Though he honestly didn't care one way or the other what Viktor did. Not that they weren't good friends, Viktor was one of the few people he could talk to in his native Russian, though Jean, their PR manager was fluent in Russian as well, that and a few other languages, Peter just wasn't much in the mood for small talk tonight.

He had too much on his mind. Too much of Harmony that was. Letting Sadie back in, and watching as she scarfed down her dinner, then tossing her a treat afterward, Peter made his way into the kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator and coming up with some leftover pasta and a Gatorade. He nuked the pasta then sat down at the breakfast bar to eat. Sadie sat at his feet, wagging her tail and waiting patiently for scraps.

"I went to the movies today with that girl I have been seeing, Sandra. She might stay over tomorrow. Is that okay with you?" Viktor asked, putting his feet on the coffee table and stretching out, his little dog digging at the couch beside him and curling into a ball at his side.

Peter shrugged, "you pay half the bills, it is not my business who you have over."

Nodding, Viktor picked up the remote and turned on the TV. Baseball was in full swing, and tuning into a Rays vs. Yankees game, he turned the volume up to better hear over Sadie's persistent whining as Peter neared the end of his meal and had yet to slip her so much as a crumb.

"Net!" Peter scolded, though Sadie, ever hopeful, ignored him.

Peter put his empty dishes in the sink and headed for the stairs. With a quick wave to Viktor, he and Sadie went up to their room and closed the door behind them, the large dog immediately making herself at home on his over-sized bed.

Taking off his boots and hanging up his jacket, Peter exchanged his jeans for a pair of sweats, throwing the pants in a hamper and plopping onto the bed, disturbing a now snoozing Sadie, who looked at him rather annoyed before tucking her head back onto her paws and closing her eyes once more. Peter lay there on his back, with his hands under his head, looking at the ceiling, and thinking about Harmony. It seemed no matter how much he tried to think about something else, he always came back to her

Sweet, beautiful, Harmony.

He had decided on the way home that he would look up this dog park tomorrow and take a cruise past it, to see if it was something Sadie would even like. Then maybe he'd start taking her there on a regular basis, hoping to run into the lovely Miss Harmony at some point.

Christ, why couldn't he get her out of his head?

Once the store was cleaned and locked up for the night, her father having left before the rest of the staff, leaving things in Harmony's capable hands, she headed not back to his place but to her own. The normally fifteen-minute drive with no traffic, seemed to take forever tonight. Of course, it didn't help that all she could think about was her encounter with the dangerously handsome hockey player.

After the last customer had left for the day, and the doors were locked, Harmony and the other cashiers set about righting the store and pulling things forward on the shelves. Kate had decided at that point to take the opportunity presented to her, and caught Harmony in the bread aisle, obviously wanting to gossip about the only celebrity to ever set foot in the HomeTown Grocery Mart.

"So he was a hockey player huh?" she had asked, smacking on her gum as she pulled a jar of peanut butter to the front of the shelf.

"Mmmhmm," Harmony answered, trying desperately to avoid this conversation. She already couldn't stop thinking about Peter, she certainly didn't want to talk about him too!

Kate was having none of that, though.

A few years younger than Harmony, not even old enough to drink yet, Kate was decent enough looking she supposed. She rounded out at about 5'7, and though she was rail thin, genetically, and not because of any kind of eating disorder, she had natural blonde hair, of the platinum variety and big brown eyes, like a doe's. She was working part time here at the grocery store, had been for the last four years since she turned sixteen, while she made her way through college, studying to be a pharmacist. And of all her co-workers, Harmony would say Kate was the closest thing she had to a friend here, even if they didn't hang out outside of work all that often.

"He seemed quite taken with you Harm, or was I reading too far into it?"

Harmony shrugged, "I dunno, maybe he was just being polite."

"Uh uh. I don't think so." She said, pausing for a moment as though she were considering the remark. "A man doesn't blush because he's 'being polite.' He was into you. You think he'll come back?" She went on, ignoring the eye rolling Harmony had given her.

"Doubt it. He lives in Savannah."

"So do you," Kate argued.

Harmony shrugged again, moving to the next aisle and effectively cutting off the rest of the conversation as Kate finished up with the peanut butter and jelly. Kate was wrong. Peter had made no indication that he was interested in her.

Perhaps I will see you there? Da?

His words came back to her two-fold, causing her to sigh. If only, she thought to herself.

Pulling her mind back into the present, and trying to push thoughts of Peter aside, Harmony concentrated on her driving and getting home to Lupus.

Lupus, her faithful canine was likely hungry by now, she usually set the automatic feeder on days she had to close, but since she hadn't planned on working tonight, she hadn't thought to set the timer. And thank goodness she lived on the first floor and had installed that doggy door, otherwise she'd probably have a mess on her hands as well as a starved shepherd!

Harmony lived in a nice little neighborhood right near Fellwood Homes, choosing to live in a small condo that boasted postage sized backyards for the people on the first floor and large balconies for those that lived upstairs. She'd made sure she got her landlord's permission first, assuring them that she would change out the entire door once she moved out, and then put in a doggy door. She closed two to three nights a week, and since they were slightly understaffed at the moment, she was often called in, so she didn't want Lupus to ever have to cross his legs.

She knew he'd never have an accident, he was too well trained for that, but just the same, holding his bladder could be bad for him the older he got. Not that he was old now, gosh, he was only three, but big dogs didn't live nearly as long as their smaller counterparts, so in addition to making sure he stayed the proper weight for his hip health, she didn't want to affect his bladder any either.

Lupus was her baby after all.

As she had told Peter, her grandmother raised sheep, still did for that matter, though on a much smaller scale now. She lived in a hilly part of South Carolina, not too far from the northern border of Georgia, and owned a few hundred acres, well, not anymore, she was down to about thirty if Harmony remembered correctly, but she had started out with something like three or four hundred acres. She and Harmony's grandfather used some of the fields to cultivate hay but most of it was grazing land for their sheep.

Being that they were her mother's parents, they were the Fitzgerald's, and they owned one of the best wool outfits in the nation. Or had, in their retirement they'd decreased the operation significantly, and now mostly just raised them for livestock shows or sheepdog trials. Hobbies of theirs. But in their heyday, they'd been a huge operation, certainly one of the largest in the US, importing several good rams from overseas, despite the then staggering prices to do so, and creating nearly 1/3 if she wasn't mistaken of the US's wool supply.

Harmony could remember spending every winter and summer vacation on that farm. Chasing the sheep, jumping in soft mounds of wool, and playing with puppies, lots and lots of puppies! They didn't just raise sheep, no sir, the Fitzgerald's believed in herding their sheep the old fashion way, with dogs. Dogs from good stock. Good Scottish and German stock, just like them. Grandpa Fitzgerald was as Scottish as it came, but grandma's relatives hailed from Germany, so they were always split between raising collies and shepherds, each insisting the other was a better herder.

Herself though, she preferred German Shepherds, like grandma, much to grandpa's dismay. Oh, the border collies and the standard versions were good looking dogs, and smart as whips, but there was something about the wolfy looking sable shepherds that really drew Harmony's interest. Coming from German and Czech imports, they looked much different than their American counterparts with the standard black and tan coats. They were wild, and vicious looking, larger and much more intimidating. Harmony had jumped at the chance to own one of her grandparents' pups, going for the pick of the litter. He looked so much like a wolf sometimes it was uncanny, she'd even chosen his name for just that reason. Canis Lupus, the timber wolf, but he was all dog.

And besides, Lupus was a big softy, probably wouldn't hurt a flea. At least not while Harmony was around, maybe if someone had threatened her, though, well, she knew how he'd react then. Her brother had told her on more than one occasion that he was mean, and would surely bite anyone who dared put their hands over the fence, what with the way he snarled and carried on, but Harmony had never seen that side of him, and since he looked intimidating all on his own, no one had ever dared threaten her in any way. So in her mind, all she saw was her sweet little boy. The gentle dog that played nicely with the neighbor's kittens.

Harmony had yet to run into anyone with less than honorable intentions so Lupus hadn't so much as stiffened in the presence of others, not while she was around at least.

Opening the door to the condo a few minutes later, Lupus giving a couple of short gruff barks from the other side, she bent forward, scratching him behind the ears as she dropped her bags on the floor and shut the door behind her.

"There's my good boy," she cooed. "Are you hungry big fellow?" she asked, walking towards the kitchen, Lupus bunny hopping beside her.

Aware of his size, unlike most dogs, he was always careful not to knock anyone to the ground. Very well trained indeed.

After seeing to his needs, and scrounging around in the kitchen for a little something to settle her own stomach, though she'd had some unsold fried chicken a few hours ago at work, Harmony headed for her bedroom, quickly shedding her slacks and blouse, opting for something a little more comfortable before climbing into bed and turning on the TV.

Lupus ate in record speed, bounding down the hall and jumping into bed, turning in a circle before settling beside Harmony and curling into a tight ball despite his size. Deciding between SVU or the regular Law and Order, Harmony stretched out, making herself more comfortable, and rested one hand on Lupus, the other slipping under her pillow as she allowed for the latest "ripped from the headlines" SVU case to crowd her brain and distract her from her previous thoughts.

It was about time she got Peter Petrovic off her mind!

### Chapter 3

A Romp in the Dog Park

Nearly a week later, Peter had been to the dog park on Victory Drive at least once every day, twice a day during the weekend, and he had yet to run into Harmony!

As he opened the gate and let Sadie off her leash to frolic with a few other dogs, a beagle, and a pair of huskies, he told himself he wasn't going to come here again. It was a nice park, probably about an acre in size, right next to a good walking trail and a kid's playground, and he'd met some really nice people so far, an old Ukrainian couple with a Boston terrier, and a stockbroker with a Doberman, but he could just as easily let Sadie out in his own yard to do her business.

He could also take her for a walk around the neighborhood if he felt so inclined, so driving five miles just to come to some dog park where he had to clean up after his dog, they had a gardener that took care of their lawn, which included poop pick up for an extra charge, just wasn't all that appealing to Peter.

He was getting awful sick of Viktor's teasing as well. Going on and on about the logistics of it all, and how it made no sense. Didn't he think Peter knew that already? Dog parks were for people who lived in apartments and had no yards, or those that lived in crappy neighborhoods, not for people like Viktor and Peter. Whatever. He hadn't even tried to tell him about his encounter with Harmony or how he had hoped to run into her here. He wouldn't understand.

Viktor's girlfriend, Sandra, was a Russian immigrant herself, her father was in politics or something like that, the embassy or whatever, and she was in town living with an aunt while she attended nursing school. They'd met online, through a dating site that catered to Russian's meeting other Russian's. It amazed Peter what one could find online these days. Not that he cared to try it out himself.

Sandra was pretty enough with her Scandinavian looks, blonde hair and blue eyes, and all that jazz, but she reminded him of pretty much every other girl back home. He just wasn't interested. And hell, even if he was, he wouldn't do it over the internet!

Watching as Sadie greeted a mastiff entering through the gates, Peter had almost resigned himself to leaving, and probably for good, when he noticed a little yellow Miata pulling into the parking lot. The top was down, and on one side he saw a large wolfy looking dog with his tongue lolling about while his huge paws hung over the door, and on the other, he noticed a small woman wearing big bright red sunglasses, her mahogany colored hair fluttering in the wind behind her.

His heart began to bang against his rib cage. Surely that was Harmony, no one else could have hair like that! And hadn't she said she had a German Shepherd? It had to be her. Peter called Sadie over to him, restraining her as he followed the woman in the Miata's movements. She took her time getting out of the car, putting the top up first and clipping a leash on the dog before opening the door and allowing him to hop out. He trotted around her in circles as they approached the gates, barking his fool head off at the ball she held in her hand above him.

They were quite a sight.

And as she shook her head, her mane of glorious hair sashaying about her shoulders, Peter felt sure he was going to faint. But he held it together, biding his time, not wanting to appear too eager, and waiting for her to enter the dog park. She walked to the center of the park after letting the dog off his leash, however, obediently, the dog continued to follow. Peter still had Sadie restrained, petting her and talking to her softly in Russian as she waited patiently to be released so that she could investigate the newest arrival.

Watching closely, committing her every movement to memory, Peter noticed the way her jeans fit snug and low on her hips, how her t-shirt rose just barely as she kept the ball out of the dog's reach, putting a flat and toned stomach on display, and when she laughed, her smile spread across her face, almost angelically. He just wished he could see her eyes. She hadn't taken the sunglasses off though damn her!

It was when she finally threw the ball, and sent the dog in a fit chasing after it that he let go of Sadie's collar, lithe and graceful in her movements, Sadie bounded after the large shepherd, distracting him from his task, and grabbing the ball herself as she sped past him. It took the big dog a minute to figure out what had happened, but he was quick, taking off after Sadie, chasing her from one end to the other. Sadie loved tennis balls, but didn't quite understand the concept of fetch, she'd much rather chew the ball into submission and bury it than bring it back to be thrown again.

Harmony watched in disbelief as a small sleek tan dog with a black face shot past her, chasing down the tennis ball she had thrown for Lupus, who despite his own quick speed was no match for the k-9 wonder as she snatched the ball out of the air and took off in the opposite direction. Harmony laughed at poor Lupus for having been caught off guard and was almost tempted to intervene when she got a closer look at the canine as it leapt past her once again. A Belgian. She was sure of it.

Something somewhere niggled at her brain, something she should have easily recalled. And as a tall man with shaggy blonde hair and dark aviators crossed the lot towards her, it all came back to Harmony in a flood. Peter!

Nervous now, Harmony watched the man approach, his gate slow and masculine, more of a swagger really, gulping, she shifted with apprehension, rubbing one foot on top of the other and adjusting her sunglasses. Thank god it was so bright out! At least he wouldn't be able to discern her vulnerability this time, thanks to the tinted lenses!

Harmony had never been good at hiding her emotions, whether physically or emotionally. If she wasn't shouting out her feelings for all the word to hear, it was plainly written on her face. One of those heart on her sleeves types of people. Sometimes it was a real boon!

Oh hell!

She should have known better than to come here today. Harmony was due at work in a couple of hours, she was closing tonight, but after a quick breakfast, a couple of pop tarts and a glass of milk, she'd wondered what to do with herself before heading into work. That's when her gaze had landed on the Slashers calendar hanging on the wall in her kitchen.

She got up, walked over to it, unpinning it from the wall and went back to the table, flipping to the front. Thoughts of Peter Petrovic had crossed her mind several times throughout the weekend, she often found herself looking out the windows at work hoping to catch a glimpse of Peter riding up on his motorcycle, but he never came.

So there she was, staring at his picture in a calendar. It was a pretty damned good picture too. The calendar had a different feel for each month, some of the guys were in suits, others in their jerseys, but Peter had been dressed casually in jeans, with a white t-shirt and a form-fitting leather jacket.

Apparently, he'd looked the part of the hot biker long before buying what she assumed to be his first motorcycle.

The photographer had posed Peter in a casual stance as well, having him stand before the camera, with one hand in his pocket and the other on Sadie's head as she sat at his side. What a pair they had made! She could see why he had adopted her.

After staring at the picture for far too long, Harmony read the little blurb about Peter, his stats and what not, as well as a small biography, and sighing, because he was more than just a little pleasing to the eye, she put the calendar back on the wall and called to Lupus, who had gone into the living room and curled up on the couch, knowing better than to beg.

She hadn't realized until she pulled up to the park that she had even intended to come here, but it was too late now. Peter was only a couple of feet away at this point, and Lupus was far more interested in chasing Sadie and retrieving his ball than he was in Harmony's discomfort. She was clearly on her own.

Peter stopped a couple of feet away, pulling off his sunglasses and tucking them into his back pocket. "Miss Harmony, so nice to see you." He said, a big smile spanning his handsome face.

Harmony did her best to tamp down what she was feeling, but with the way he was looking at her, as if he wanted to kidnap her and take her somewhere private to have his way with her, she was sure he could hear her heart thundering in her chest. It felt like the hooves of a dozen horses galloping around in there!

"Hi." She eventually managed, relieved when Lupus finally gave up the chase and came to inspect the man near his mistress.

Peter crouched down, holding out a hand for Lupus to sniff, but his eyes never left Harmony's face, even when Lupus pushed his big head into Peter's palm to be scratched, deciding he was alright by him, his gaze never wavered. It was unnerving.

"Is good looking dog," Peter commented, standing and scratching him behind the ears as Lupus leaned heavily against his legs.

Harmony nodded, "that he is. Where did Sadie run off to?"

Peter shrugged, then turning, let out a loud whistle, to which Sadie responded with a bark and bounded over, walking in circles around Lupus as the two sniffed each other out. "Fast friends," he remarked, once they ran off again together.

Harmony wasn't sure what to say, normally not one to shy away from small talk, or any conversation for that matter, face to face with Peter Petrovic, with nothing to distract them, she found herself at a distinct disadvantage. To break the silence, though, as he continued to study her with those ice blue eyes of his, Harmony ended up saying the first thing that came to mind.

"So you're from Russia huh?" She said, turning away from him and smacking herself in the forehead afterward, causing Peter to laugh.

"Da. Yes, I am from Russia. Was it not obvious by my accent?" He chuckled.

"Sure, of course, I uh. I don't know what's come over me. I seemed to be quite tongue-tied whenever you're around."

"Is same feeling I get. I understand."

She smiled at that, pulling her glasses off finally and indicating a bench nearby with one hand, "would you like to sit down? I think the dogs are occupied for now."

Peter spotted Sadie and Lupus over by one corner, sniffing together at the fence line, and fell into step with Harmony, sitting at one side of the bench as she took the other. Though the distance between them did nothing to hide the sexual current that pulsed around them. It was almost a palpable thing.

"I admit, I looked at that calendar this morning, and read your biography." She said after a few seconds of silence, at which they stole glances at each other while looking at the ground and shuffling their feet in the dirt. It was an unconscious thing, and so neither had noticed the other one doing it.

Chuckling, and pushing a leaf with his foot, Peter looked up at her, and as the sun turned her eyes that dark violet color, his cheeks flushed with heat, and his breath caught in his lungs. "was very interesting?" he asked, almost breathlessly.

"Well," she began, twiddling her thumbs to keep calm, as his eyes roamed her face. "Let's see. You're 26, you were born in Moscow Russia, six feet tall, 175 pounds, blonde hair, blue eyes, though really they look more like ice to me, and don't take this the wrong way, but they kind of remind me of a Siberian Husky's eyes." He laughed again, more amused sounding than uncomfortable, though, and Harmony couldn't seem to stop the word vomit as it continued to pour out of her mouth. "I like your eyes; I think they're pretty. And oh yeah, you have an older sister, she's a scientist and so is your dad, and a younger sister, who plays hockey too."

"All that on a calendar?" He interrupted, still laughing lightly, allowing her to catch her breath.

She nodded, "there's more."

His eyebrows raised as if indicating she should continue, so she did.

"Your mom is Ilyana Kornokova, though she takes her married name now, she was a famous figure skater in the 70's, very pretty, I can see where you get your looks, and it also said that you've been skating since you were old enough to walk, that you played in the KHL for two years before coming over to the NHL, undrafted, like so many are these days. I think Panarin was the same right?"

God, what was the matter with her! Babbling on about how good looking he was! As if the man didn't already know that! He certainly doesn't need me drooling all over him! She scolded herself, praying for the earth to open up and swallow her whole before she made any more of an idiot of herself.

Peter, bless him, managed to rescue her from herself, latching onto that last bit of information.

"Da. Panarin, he is friend of mine. Good guy."

"He was rookie of the year his first year, right? Sorry, Blackhawks, I know, probably a sore spot, although, you guys won the cup this year, so I imagine it doesn't really matter anymore." And she was off again!

"Losing the cup will always matter, but as I said, Panarin is friend of mine, wish him all the luck. Was there anything else this calendar say about me?" he asked, with a soft twinkle in his eyes.

What was that? Mischief? She didn't know, couldn't tell. If he wasn't blushing, he was smiling. She doubted the man ever frowned, and with a face like his, he really had no reason to!

"Um, no. No that was it. There was a little bit about Sadie, just that she was a police force drop out, but too much for her owners to handle and that's why she ended up at the shelter, something about a prey drive. Is that right?"

He nodded, folding his hands in his lap, "yes. She loves to chase the ball, but will not give it back. Not make for very good police dog. Is sweetheart though."

And just like that, his soft words, the softer smile, and Harmony felt her heart shifting, melting really. It was amazing that he could have such an effect on her so quickly. She hardly knew this man!

"What about you Miss Harmony? You know my, biography is it? What can I know about you?"

Before she could speak, Lupus ran up to her, ball in mouth, and dropped the slimy thing in her lap. In one deft movement, she picked it up and launched it out into the field, Lupus, and Sadie who had ambled over, quickly giving chase again. As the motion hefted it forward, her hair slid down the front of her shoulder, falling in reddish-brown waves.

Peter, failing to contain himself, as he had been wanting to touch her for some time now, reached out and pushed it back over her shoulder, lingering a moment as that shock of recognition coursed through them again.

Sitting up straight, and looking him square in the eyes, his stare bold and intense as it iced over and pierced through her, she blinked, once, then twice, before she was able to breathe again.

What the hell was that? And why did it happen every time they so much as touched?

"I uh...excuse me," she said, fishing around in her purse for a stick of gum and allowing herself even the tiniest distraction so that she might gain her wits about her.

Peter seemed to understand, taking a second to look down at his hands, appearing to examine them.

Probably looking for burn marks. She thought to herself as she finally got control of her emotions again.

Clearing her throat, Harmony finally spoke again. "I was born in Pooler, I've lived there pretty much my whole life until moving to Savannah a couple of years ago. My father owns the store where I work, his father gave it to him when he retired, and soon it'll be mine."

Peter looked at her with an intense interest, his eyes riveted on her. It was a little unnerving to have someone pay such close attention to her, but a warmth spread over her just the same. "I thought you say your grandparents raise sheep?" he asked, causing her to laugh and smile.

"Yes, they do. My mother's parents, they live in South Carolina, and they raise dogs and sheep, that's where I got Lupus from."

"I see," he said, smiling a little sheepishly, he had two sets of grandparents of his own after all.

"Anyways, I work most days, and spend the rest of my time with my dad or downtown at the clubs. I like to dance, but I can be a bit of a homebody at times too. I guess you could say I've lived a pretty sheltered life. I'm sure not nearly as fascinating as yours, what with all the traveling you do!"

"Is lonely life sometimes," he admitted, his smile turning down at one corner of his mouth. "I miss home, but I will get to see family in a few weeks. So I guess is not so bad when you get used to it."

"I didn't think about it like that. You're pretty far from home. I can't imagine being that far from my dad."

"What about your mother?" He asked, picking up on the lack of any mention of her.

"She died a couple of years ago... cancer." Harmony tried not to frown.

He felt like a boob anyways, "Sorry," he said.

"No, no, it's okay. Really," she assured him. "She was a pretty heavy smoker, and it was bad there at the end, she suffered something fierce, but now she isn't suffering anymore." Harmony laid a hand on his knee, drawing his eyes up to meet hers. "So you see, it really is okay, she's better now."

He nodded, his gaze solemn as he read the tenderness in her exotic violet-blue eyes. "Da, I see."

They sat there like that for a couple of minutes, the silence stretching, just looking into one another's eyes. There was something here, and they both knew it. It was like a shiver, whispering through them before they could so much as acknowledge it. And just as Peter considered leaning forward to kiss Harmony, her phone sounded. A loud beeping noise that broke the quiet and shattered the moment.

"Shoot. I guess it's time to go." Harmony said, her voice barely audible as she reached into her pocket and silenced her phone.

Peter stood, waiting for her to do the same, and scolded himself for not being quicker.

Standing, Harmony called to her dog and clipped the leash onto his collar. "We should do this again sometime." She smiled, making Peter blush.

He nodded, "yes, we should. Maybe you even do me the honor of having dinner with me Miss Harmony?" He asked cautiously.

After what had so boldly passed between them only minutes ago, Harmony wasn't surprised by his question, but found herself contemplating it all the same. There was definitely something here worth exploring, but with everything going on in her life right now, did she have time to find out what it was? She didn't think so, but when she looked deep into his crystal like eyes, and saw the hope shimmering so close to the surface, she wasn't sure she had the strength to turn him down.

"Sure. I'd like that." She heard herself saying. And with that, she reached into her purse and pulled out a business card, handing it to him. "Here's my business card, give me a call sometime," she said, with one last wave, and a look over the shoulder before closing the gate behind her and heading in the direction of her car.

Once safely behind the wheel of her Miata, Harmony slipped her glasses back on and breathed a deep sigh of relief. She hadn't even realized just how tense she'd really been until now. Her nerves were strung tighter than the strings of a harp! Had Peter really done that to her?

God, if she wasn't careful, she'd lose her heart and not even know it.

Peter stood watching as Harmony pulled out of the parking lot, a smile on his face, and once her car was completely out of sight, he looked down at the business card in his hands, flipping it over and over as he thought about Harmony and their brief time together. Too brief. He wanted so much more than this. He just couldn't figure out why.

Peter wasn't a skeptic by any means when it came to romance, he just didn't have much experience. He wasn't like some of the other guys on the team. Dean or Donovan, for example. He knew those two had had their fair share of women before settling down, hell, even Viktor bragged about several encounters in their home country, as well as the women that continuously threw themselves at him here in America.

And he wasn't even what one would call attractive! Viktor might have blue eyes, and his hair was blonde like most other Slavic men, but it was also receding already, and he often just shaved it off. His ears stood out, and his nose was too big, and yet, Viktor was usually seen with a woman on his arm!

Even young Andre already had more experience with women than Peter did! And he was only 23! Okay, so it was only a three-year difference, but it was still true that Andre had "hooked up" more frequently than he ever had. Peter could count the number of partners he'd had on one hand. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, not being a dog and all, but it made him feel inadequate somehow. Like he wasn't good enough for Harmony, or he wouldn't be a good lover.

Of course, that hadn't stopped him from wanting to kiss her just now! And of the lovers he had taken, he certainly hadn't had any complaints. So maybe there was still hope for him. Maybe he'd go out with the guys tonight, to get some advice, and figure out what it is he should be doing to really get Harmony's attention. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea.

Calling Sadie to his side, he clipped on her leash and headed for home. He had things to do, and people to see.

### Chapter 4

The First Date

Work had been a nightmare. They were down two cashiers, Shelia's kids were sick again, pink eye, and she'd contracted it herself, so she couldn't come in, and Tim, their one male cashier had the flu, so he was going to be out a couple of days as well. Harmony had tried calling both of her shift supervisors to see if either or both would come in, but neither answered. Figured. Everyone screened their calls these days.

So not only did Harmony have to run one of the registers, but she still had to take care of her back office duties. It was a long hard night indeed. Thankfully, they were only marginally busy, but it was still hell on her feet. By the end of the night, all she thought about was soaking in a long hot bath. And since she'd left straight from the park, dropping Lupus off at her father's, who only lived right down the road, she didn't have all that far to go to get to one.

Her father had one of those huge soaker tubs, as well as a hot tub, though God knows how long it had been since anyone had used it! Hell, it probably didn't even work anymore. No, the tub would do just fine. Harmony kept several changes of clothes at her father's for just such an occasion, and as her room had never been redecorated, she had a comfy place to sleep as well.

All of which was calling to her, begging her to take advantage of its open hospitality. Besides, her father would certainly love the company! He seemed so lonely when she'd dropped off Lupus earlier, maybe after her bath she'd suggest they play some cards or something, gulp down a couple of beers, eat some nachos.

Yeah, it was going to be a good night.

Peter sat at the bar with Andre and Viktor, nursing a beer as the two of them chattered on about one thing or another, pointing out various women and judging them by their "attributes." Something that didn't necessarily appeal to Peter, the female body was something to behold in his opinion. Capable of giving life, and able to bring a man to his knees in a fit of pleasure, yeah, women were definitely worthy of a certain amount of respect and admiration.

Perhaps tonight had been a bad idea. Maybe Andre the kid wonder, and Viktor the conquer weren't the best guys to tell him how to impress a lady. Because Harmony was certainly that. Had this been a previous century, she would have been like royalty compared to the girls that currently flocked around them. He certainly didn't want to appear to be heavy handed where Harmony was concerned.

Though she seemed pretty open and honest in expressing herself, when they touched, he sensed something. Some dark and secret yearning, and then she'd pull back so quickly, as though she were hesitant to explore it any further. She was afraid of something, or at the very least unsure of herself, and maybe Peter too. Not that he wasn't just as frightened by his body's response to her, but he had the good sense to know it was worth going after. He just knew they could have something real, something lasting, if only they'd let themselves.

Peter sighed, watching as a couple of girls strode over in their direction. Big sloppy smiles on their overly made up faces. It was too much. So he turned back towards the bar, ignoring them completely once they had fully advanced upon his little group. Their loud giggles permeating his thoughts even though he tried his damnedest to ignore them.

Andre nudged him, "hey Pete," he said, trying to grab his attention. "You mind if I take off? I've got a couple of ladies to entertain."

Peter nodded, he didn't care one way or the other. Throwing a couple of bills down on the counter to pay for his tab, he got up and left, leaving Andre and Viktor alone with their spoils. Snorting to himself, as he looked back over his shoulder, he thought again of Harmony, those girls had nothing on her.

Amanda Orsini watched as Peter Petrovic got up and left the bar. Mere seconds after she and her friend Cassie had walked over to his pint-sized group and introduced themselves. He hadn't even acknowledged her! That bastard! She wondered just who he thought he was! Was this any way to treat a fan? Oh well, Andre would suit her needs for now.

Andre put his arm around her shoulder then, drawing her attention away from the door Peter had just exited and back to their little group. "Oh don't worry about Pete. He's just sore right now." Andre drawled, pulling her closer. "You just let ole Andre take care of you tonight."

Amanda smiled, turning the wattage up fully and then pouting her lips a little. "That sounds like a fine idea to me," she purred with a wink at her friend.

Cassie wasn't sold on the idea, however. She wasn't interested in Viktor Bortnik, no matter how rich or famous the man was, he just wasn't attractive. She wanted Andre, but with Peter gone, that wasn't likely to happen. Amanda always got the good looking guys. Something about her perkiness and that bottle blonde hair that made the men turn a blind eye to Cassie.

It wasn't that she was ugly or anything, she was just slightly plump for her small frame, and her features a little plainer than those of her petite friend. Whatever. She wasn't into hooking up with random strangers anyways.

"I think I'm going to call it a night Mandy, sorry." She said, slipping from between her friend and the big Russian to her right.

"Suit yourself," Andre said, dismissing her as he focused all his attention on Amanda, who after giving her friend a shrug of one delicate shoulder, leaned into him and whispered something into his ear that caused him to laugh.

Viktor excused himself as well, heading towards the bathroom as Andre paid his tab and escorted his latest conquest from the bar.

Peter waited almost a week before calling Harmony. For a little while there, he wasn't sure he was going to call her at all, though what possessed him to think like that was beyond him. Why shouldn't he call her? He was attracted to her, and she was clearly attracted to him as well, or she wouldn't have given him her phone number, to begin with.

But he'd waited nearly the week just the same. Give her time to wonder, that had been Andre's advice and Viktor agreed. So he waited.

"I almost gave up on you." Harmony said once the pleasantries were out of the way.

"Sorry, I took some bad advice." He admitted, cursing Andre and Viktor and their, tactics.

But Harmony just laughed. "So when did you want to get together?" she asked.

"I was thinking tomorrow night. Dinner?"

"That sounds great. Have you ever been to Molly MacPherson's? I love the food there." Harmony exclaimed, before catching herself and trying to tamp down her excitement. She didn't want to seem too eager, though she was nearly bubbling over at this point.

"Da. I go there all the time. How is 7? Is good for you?"

"7 is perfect Peter. I can't wait to see you." She said before hanging up.

All week Peter had tried to keep himself busy. He worked out, went to the rink and got in some skating practice, then worked out again.

Being the offseason, most of the guys went back to their hometowns at one point or another. Dean, the captain of his team and his new wife Abby had gone to Connecticut to visit his family for a few weeks, and Donovan, the alternate captain, had just come back from Canada a couple of days ago. He and his girlfriend Lacy had just bought a house and were fighting over how to decorate it, along with having gone to the pound and adopting a large mutt that Donovan said was part Great Dane, part lab, and part God only knew what else.

Andre was supposed to be going home to Toronto himself, but as he had just finished moving into Donovan's former home, he was putting it off for another couple of weeks, he said he'd be going back sometime in August. And Viktor, well, Viktor was next in line to get the cup for a week and would be heading back to Russia by Friday.

Once he had his week, it would be Peter's turn, of course, now he was quite torn about going home himself. Having met Harmony, he didn't know if he would go home this time around, or if he did, maybe he'd only stay for that one week. Surely everyone in his hometown would love to see the Stanley Cup after all, but he didn't like the idea of leaving Harmony. They barely knew each other at this point, so what was to stop her from meeting someone else in the interim and forgetting all about him?

One day at a time Peter. He told himself. He didn't want to get too far ahead of himself here. He and Harmony had chemistry yes, and shared a love of animals clearly, but that didn't mean they were compatible. Peter just needed to play it by ear, take things slow. No need to rush.

After dinner the next night, Peter and Harmony sat outside on one of two benches that flanked the doors to Molly's, a lovely little pub in downtown Savannah that served up hot food, cold beer and outrageous folk music, all in an atmosphere surrounded by Scottish heritage. It was a favorite among the Slashers players usually went there to celebrate after home wins during the season.

And tonight, it was their place.

As a regular, Peter had been treated like the royalty he was, and they were even given a desert on the house to share. They talked lightly during the meal, telling each other stories. Peter learned that Harmony's mother, though she loved both her children and her husband, she'd had a hard time showing such emotions and that often times she had been more affectionate with the dog than her own family.

It sounded like such a lonely way to grow up. But apparently, both kids had turned out alright. Her older brother, Craig, lived and worked near Miami, she said he built boats, working as the lead manufacturer for his father in-law's company, and he had been married for four years now with two children, a boy age 3 and a girl who was almost 1. As for Harmony, well, he couldn't imagine her having turned out any better than she was.

She was a talkative sort, there wasn't a bit of silence between them the entire meal, and at times one might have considered her to be boisterous as well, animated and loud, but it just reminded him of home. Russian's were a loud bunch, so he was used to it. He enjoyed her open and honest nature. She didn't hold back, and that was something special in and of itself.

Peter had talked about family as well. About his father and the work that he and his sister did together. Though it was much too complex to explain in detail, especially with his limited ability to articulate in English, he figured she understood the gist of it. Then he told her about growing up and traveling the world with his mother at times while she was a part of the figure skating circuit, once she retired from performing herself after the birth of her youngest daughter, she still coached and took several men and women to the Worlds and Olympics.

It was all fascinating stuff, and Harmony was even truly surprised when Peter told her all about his little sister and her quest to become a hockey player for the NWHL, that was only recently brought into existence. She would have thought the young girl would want to follow in her mother's footsteps, not those of her older brother. But it was sweet just the same.

So here they sat afterward, having finished their meals, their beers, and their delightful conversation. Harmony didn't want the night to end. She'd had such a good time with Peter. Despite the language barrier, he was quite the conversationalist and a damn good listener! Even now, with the silence of the quiet night surrounding them, nothing about it felt awkward. Everything was right in the world. Their world.

Peter placed a finger under her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his own. "What is on your mind Miss Harmony?" he asked, as he ran his thumb softly back and forth across her chin.

She smiled, his touch warming her in a way the humidity of the night could not. "I was thinking about how much fun I've had tonight. I like you, Peter."

"I like you too," he chuckled, his accent tinting even the sound of his laughter, melting her insides a little more. "May I walk you to your car?"

Nodding, Harmony waited until he stood up, holding a hand out to her before rising off the bench herself. Hand in hand they strolled along the sidewalk to the lot down the way where Harmony had parked. Peter only lived a couple of blocks away, so he'd just walk, like he had on the way over. But as he wasn't ready to leave the company of such an amazing woman just yet, he slowed his pace, pulling Harmony around to face him.

"I do not want you to go." He admitted, holding both of her hands in his, his calloused thumbs brushing the insides of her palms.

"I know what you mean," she admitted.

His touch, the feel of his skin on hers, it was almost too much. She wanted to mold herself against his hard body, here and now, lose herself in what was sure to be a passionate kiss! What was wrong with her? Harmony had never thought such foolish things before! Maybe she'd had one beer too many. Yeah, that had to be it.

But as Peter's fingers snaked up her wrists, as his gaze darkened, that icy glare looking as dark as the depths of the ocean, her heart started to beat faster, her pulse rocketing out of control. Could he feel it? Could he feel the veins in her wrist rushing blood back to her heart? Could he hear the bass as it beat wildly in her chest?

He smiled, then all at once, he leaned forward, his mouth seeking hers, his breath hot and spicy on her face. Without thinking, Harmony stood on her tippy toes and felt the shock as soon as their lips met. A fierce bolt of lightning, it struck her hard, sending her head reeling as his tongue delved into her mouth. Harmony whimpered as he pulled her into his arms, the breath nearly knocked out of her when she came up against the hard length of his body.

The night sounds, the scent of the air as it mixed with the smell of his cologne, the heat of his mouth, and the tangy taste of him, it was an erotically intoxicating mixture, drugging her with each parting of his lips against hers. Her head swam, her vision blurred beneath her eyelids, the colors exploding like fireworks in her head.

After what felt like an eternity, Harmony broke off the kiss abruptly, pulling back from Peter and taking in a gulp of air. His smile faded as he saw the shock and fear in her eyes.

Had he been too rough?

"Harmony?" he questioned, reaching out for her as she continued to back away from him.

"I uh, I need to go," she said hastily. Making a quick retreat for her car "I'll see you later. Thanks for dinner Peter." She gave him one final pained look as she got behind the wheel of her car and watched him watching her. Then she started the engine and left as quickly as she could without actually peeling out.

What had just happened? She asked herself, more than just a little confused. One minute they were standing there talking, and the next he was making love to her mouth! Not that she hadn't enjoyed the kiss, it was more than she could have ever imagined it would be. And hadn't she thought often about kissing Peter? It was more than that, though. She had felt almost as though she were floating away from herself, merging into Peter. But how was that possible?

It was just a kiss, right?

Peter wasn't sure what to think as he watched her drive away. He was lost, and maybe a little hurt. He'd never felt such things before when kissing a woman. It was like their souls had combined. Harmony was his equal though in almost every way, so why shouldn't it have felt natural to kiss her that way?

Then why had she left? Why had she seemed so afraid of him? He just couldn't understand it. He realized he didn't understand women for that matter. And turning, he headed home. Lest he go lick his wounds in private.

"I do not understand what happened," Peter said the next evening as he sat in his usual spot at his usual bar alongside Andre.

"Maybe the kiss sucked?" Andre teased, gulping down his beer and signaling to the bartender that he was ready for another one. "Hell, Pete, don't take it so seriously, women can be pretty damn hard to figure out sometimes."

"You are probably right," he agreed, slapping a couple of bills down on the bar top and draining the rest of his bottle.

"You're not going to stay and have another one with me?"

"Net. No, I think I will go home and see if Viktor needs any help."

Andre shook his head, lowering his beer after taking another swig. "I think he said he was going to be at Sandra's tonight, he's leaving Friday and something about wanting to spend some time with her before he takes off." He finished his beer, making a loud thunk as it hit the wood of the bar top, and winking to the bartender as she handed him another one, he grabbed it, turning to Peter once more. "Besides, I need my wingman Pete."

"Maybe just one more." He replied, nodding to the barkeep.

### Chapter 5

Crying Wolf

Amanda Orsini sat at the end of the bar, her faithful companion Cassie at her side, and counted her good fortune. How lucky could she be? For the second time in a month, hell, less than two weeks at that! She found herself in the same bar as Peter Petrovic. She'd need to be careful this time, though, he was with Andre again, and surely he'd recognize her after having spent the night with him early last week.

And what a night that had been! Too bad he was so dense, he was an animal in bed! Andre was kinda cute too, but nothing like Peter Petrovic. If only Peter hadn't been so rude to her before. She wouldn't even be considering the evil plans that swirled around in her mind right now had he actually paid attention to her. But no, he was one of those high and mighty types of guys. He obviously went for a different kind of woman, and Amanda didn't seem to fit the standard. The nerve of that guy! What a tool! Couldn't he see what a catch she was?

Sure, Amanda was on the shorter side, and she hadn't been a cheerleader in college, but she did have a degree in fashion, and she had a damn good job as an assistant buyer at one of the local boutiques in town. Not to mention the fact that she had a pretty face, or at least she was passably pretty.

When she did her makeup just right though she was more than just average looking, she was downright sexy! What guy wouldn't be lucky to stroll around town with her on his arm? Andre had surely seemed interested enough, hell they'd had sex twice before she left him to sleep it off! Okay, so maybe he'd pretty much showed her the door after the second time, but like she said, he was dense. And too young.

It didn't matter that Amanda herself was only a year younger than Andre, she liked a more mature man, like Peter, who she knew to be what was it, 26? Yeah, Peter was definitely more her style. If only he had realized it before it was too late.

But now it was just that. Too late.

Much to his chagrin, Amanda had pumped Andre for information before they'd gone off and done the deed, so she knew Peter wasn't seeing anyone, and she also knew that while he shared a townhouse with Viktor, he was loaded. He had in fact just signed an eight-year contract worth somewhere in the neighborhood of forty-two million! So if she couldn't have Peter, well, she'd have to settle for some his money instead.

Maybe she would have considered giving him a second chance, but after seeing him last night, kissing that big boobed bimbo outside of Molly's, no he didn't deserve a second chance. Hell, she would have done this whole thing then, the way that girl had raced off after kissing him, she probably could have convinced him to sleep with her then with how vulnerable he'd looked. But that wasn't part of the plan, and she needed Cassie to make it all work. And tonight, well, tonight she would make it work. She would make her move when the timing was just right.

So Amanda waited for the right moment, careful to avoid Andre at all times, and when Peter waved goodbye to his friend, she followed him out. As soon as the coast was clear, dragging Cassie along with her, she approached him.

"Oh, my God! You're Peter Petrovic!" she gushed, really laying it on thick and moving into his path, forcing him to either stop or run into her. "Can we have your autograph?" she begged, a big smile on her face.

Though a slight look of annoyance crossed his features, Peter nodded and smiled, taking the pen from her hand and scribbling on the pieces of paper she and Cassie provided. "Is nice to meet fans," he said, his thick accent barely discernible over the noise of the bar behind them.

"Oh thank you so much!" Amanda chirped, still not allowing him to pass, "one more thing." She said, holding up a finger.

"Da?" Peter asked, "anything for fan."

Amanda held up her phone, "can I get a couple of pictures? My friends will never believe I met you otherwise!"

Sighing visibly, Peter shook his head, lifting his hand and motioning her towards him, "da, of course."

"Here," she said, handing the phone to Cassie as she wrapped herself in Peter's arms, trying to make the hug look as intimate as possible. She smiled wide for the camera, and wiggled against Peter, his scent rubbing off on her clothes as she did so.

He was so nice, and God, he smelled so good. Too bad. Amanda thought to herself once the moment was over and Peter left the two girls, heading around the back of the building, towards home no doubt.

After a few seconds had elapsed, Amanda grabbed her friend and yanked Cassie along with her in the direction that Peter had just taken.

"What's with you?" Cassie demanded, tugging free of her grasp and looking a mite pissed off.

"Shh...shh!" Amanda whispered, looking left and right to make sure no one was around. "I'll tell you in a minute. Just let me make sure he's gone."

"Make sure who's gone?" Cassie squeaked to no avail as her friend walked further down the side street, leaving Cassie to lean against the back of the bar.

Amanda came back a few minutes later, a Cheshire cat like grin on her face, "he's gone."

"Who's gone?"

"Peter."

"Okay, so what? What's this all about Amanda?"

"It's about getting rich of course," Amanda smirked, as she turned to face her friend and began ripping the top and bottom of her blouse.

Cassie gasped. "What the hell are you doing?"

Amanda wasn't listening, after seeing that the tears in her shirt looked just right, she crouched down and began rubbing dirt from the ground on her face, arms, and clothes, then reaching into her purse, and scrounging around for several seconds she came up with a broken pencil and lifted her skirt, where she made a two-inch gash down the inside of her right thigh.

"Amanda!" Cassie nearly shouted, "What the fuck?"

"Shh!" Amanda hissed. "Shut your mouth, will you? Just listen. Andre told me that Peter just signed some big contract, and since I can't convince him to sleep with me, I figured I might still try and get something out the bargain."

Cassie was stunned. "Have you lost your ever-loving mind?" She asked, hands on her hips as she stared at her friend in disbelief.

"No. I'm thinking quite clearly, thank you very much."

"And just how do you expect this little scheme to work?"

Just then, Amanda let out a long, loud wail. Piercing the midnight air with a scream so loud everyone within a two block radius was sure to hear it.

"Amanda!" Cassie sputtered.

Amanda just laughed. "Relax. No one's going to come back here, but once the police start questioning people, they'll say they remembered hearing someone scream."

"This is never going to work."

"Of course it is," Amanda assured her with a long-suffering sigh. "Look, we're going to go to the hospital, I'll get one of those rape kit thingies done and then we'll call the police."

"Oh? And what then Amanda? How are you going to fake DNA? I mean, shouldn't there be DNA if he raped you?"

"No no no. You're thinking about this all wrong Cassie."

"Then explain it to me. Now." She huffed, the more she heard, the less she liked this whole thing.

"Okay, so I'm not going to say he raped me, that way, there's no need for the full out rape kit."

"Come again?"

"Must I explain everything?" Amanda asked, continuing as Cassie just stared at her blankly. "Here's the deal, we met Peter out front, got an autograph, took some pictures, and then he invited me back to his place. You decided to leave, but needed to go to the bathroom first. Meanwhile, we start heading back to his place, and once he gets me behind the building, he pushes me against the wall and starts to have his way with me. I freak out, try to shove him off, he rips my top, I fall down, he pins me to the ground, and starts pulling up my skirt, scratches my thigh, I scream, you hear it, and somehow just know it's me, so you run back here, and scared of being caught, he takes off. Got it?"

Cassie stared at her open mouthed. She had no idea what to say at this point. "This is never going to work," she finally managed.

"Of course it will."

"Alright, for one crazy second," Cassie began, waving her hands around for effect. "Let's say the police buy this story, with me backing you up. I am NOT and I repeat, NOT going to go into a courtroom and lie for you, Mandy."

"You won't have to." Amanda sneered, getting pissed off that her friend was being such a pansy. "It's never going to get that far. Look, Cassie, guys like Peter, in his position, they'll just want this whole thing to go away, he'll pay me off, and that'll be the end of it. No way will he want to play this out in front of the media. No way!"

"Yeah, okay Mandy, because this whole thing worked out so well for all the other women that accused athletes of crimes just like this."

Amanda huffed, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Just trust me okay?" she said, a pleading look in her eyes. "Look, we need to go. Too much longer and this'll look staged."

"Because it is staged."

"But they don't know that!" Amanda exploded, grabbing Cassie by the arm and leading her back around the building.

Once they neared the front, Amanda threw Cassie's arm around her shoulder and made it look like her friend was helping her as she limped towards a cab parked at the edge of the sidewalk. People stared as they passed, but no one seemed bothered by her appearance.

Bunch of assholes! She thought to herself, what if I had really been hurt?

Cassie helped her into the cab, and told the driver, who didn't seem the least bit concerned himself, to take them to Memorial Hospital. God, how did she let Amanda get her into this mess? This was going to blow up in their faces, she just knew it!

Peter made it home within ten minutes of leaving the bar, fifteen if one counted the brief interlude with his fans. As he unlocked the door, two mutinous beasts immediately overtook him, barking and jumping at him like a couple of lunatics.

Peter walked to the back door, letting the crazy animals go out and do their business, then headed to the refrigerator and grabbed himself a beer. His mouth working over the neck of the bottle in sure, slow gulps. The cool liquid slid down his throat easing his parched mouth. He didn't know why he felt this way, or why beer seemed to be just about the only thing that made even the slightest bit of difference in his mood. He probably should have just stayed at the bar, at least then he wasn't drinking alone.

But no, he'd done his duty, his wingman duty.

Peter had pretended not to understand an attractive young lady that was so blatantly hitting on him, and allowing Andre to act as though he were able to translate for him. They had played that routine more than once, and it worked quite frequently. Especially tonight, the woman had been so impressed by Andre that Peter was instantly forgotten, so he'd finished his beer, paid his tab a second time and took off. No need to hang around and be a third wheel.

It wasn't really even that Andre needed help, he was a good looking guy, after all, what with his thick brown hair and his handsomely crooked grin, not to mention his charm. One might not realize it looking at him, he was still pretty young, and certainly looked it, but he could charm the wings off a butterfly. This way was just more fun, though, or so Andre had said. Until the day when they eventually got caught!

Peter chuckled, walking back to the door to let the chowhounds back in. Dasha rushed in first, skittering across the hardwood floors and rounding the corner into the living area before disappearing into Viktor's downstairs master. He had to call for Sadie, who after a couple of seconds finally trotted inside, proud as a peacock with a bone in her mouth, and covered in mud.

She took one look at Peter and decided to share her find with him, jumping up and covering him in dirt as well.

"Ugh," Peter grumbled, pushing Sadie back and shaking some of the loose dirt off onto the floor. "You little wench!" he scolded the dog in Russian, then grabbed her by the collar and hauled her upstairs where the two of them took a quick shower together.

Peter left Sadie shut up in his room to dry, and made his way back downstairs, pulling a broom and dustpan from the utility closet and sweeping up the rest of the mess that Sadie had made. Just as he closed the door after putting the broom away, the doorbell sounded.

Looking at the clock in the kitchen, it was nearly 11, Peter wondered who the hell would be coming over at this hour. He opened the door slowly, only to find Harmony standing on the other side of it.

"Miss Harmony?" He asked surprised, stepping aside so she could come in.

Harmony smiled, "I uh, I was just in the neighborhood."

"Is nice to see you."

"Yeah, it is isn't it?" she agreed, looking around the room as she entered.

"Would you like I show you around?"

She was about to answer, had hardly gotten the first word out, when Dasha decided to investigate, running across the house like a madwoman and skidding to a stop in front of Harmony, tail wagging crazily, tongue lapping at her hand in a frenzy as Harmony bent down and tried to scratch behind the scruffy little dog's ears.

"And who is this adorable little creature?" She laughed. "Another one of yours Peter?"

Peter shook his head, "Is Dasha, she is Viktor's dog."

"Viktor, right, your roommate." She stood, the little dog still jumping at her feet. "Well, let's take a look around, shall we?"

Peter spent the next ten minutes showing her around the townhouse, the place wasn't all that big, to begin with, something like fifteen hundred square feet, but it was home all the same.

Harmony liked the look of the place, with its hardwood floors and simple decorations. There weren't many pictures to be seen, a couple of the team, taken last season and then again this year after they had won the cup, but nothing of friends or family. Though she supposed the team was their friends and family.

The kitchen was open to the dining area, with the standard appliances, in black and butcher block counter tops, with a breakfast bar on one end and a granite island in the middle. The dining room held a small square table, nothing fancy, and the living area pretty much followed suit. The furnishings were neutral colors, over-sized and comfortable looking, there was also a big screen TV. Off the back of the dining room was another door to a utility room complete with washer and dryer, and a sliding glass door off the kitchen that led into the small backyard, and then a door off of the living room that Peter said led to the downstairs master, which Viktor occupied.

To respect his privacy, they didn't go in.

He took her upstairs instead, showing her the loft where they played video games on another big TV even bigger than the one in the living room, as well as a pool table and a small wet bar. Down the hall were two bedrooms and a large bath. One room was empty, he told her that it had been Andre's and they were still debating between turning it into a workout room or an office, and then there was the bathroom. Pretty standard stuff as well, although it did have a door that connected to the room Peter used.

Sadie bounded down off the bed the instant the door was opened, jumping at both Peter and Harmony as they entered the room and before either one could brace themselves, Harmony fell back against the bed, and Peter nearly on top of her.

The breath whooshed out of her the instant his body weight pinned her into the mattress, and looking up into his piercing gaze, she could see the embarrassment there, along with something else. Yearning? Her skin tingled as he slowly turned and backed off of her, a sheepish grin on his face. She was almost sorry he had decided to get up.

"So sorry," he remarked, turning to Sadie and pointing at her with a frown. But Sadie just sat on her haunches, a little doggy smile on her face as she panted and looked from one to the other.

Harmony laughed, "it's okay, really."

Peter nodded and held out a hand to help her off the bed. There was no shock this time however when they touched, but a slow heat crept through her body just the same.

Harmony wondered, not for the first time since getting there, just why she had come. And every time Peter looked at her, despite the iciness of his gaze, that heat spread through her, only intensifying her fears, as irrational as they seemed.

A few years back, just out of high school, Harmony had fallen for a guy she worked with, Hector. Thinking back on it now, she wondered if she maybe had a thing for foreign men...nah. It was merely a coincidence, besides, Hector was Latino, whereas Peter was Russian, two completely different kinds of foreign.

Hector was from Cuba, well, his parents were, he was born in the US, New York to be exact, and had moved to the area when his dad took a job at one of the local law firms, being a lawyer and all. Harmony was just barely 18 and completely taken with Hector who was a couple of years older at 21. He took a job on the nightly stock crew and set to work seducing Harmony right away.

Didn't take long either, she was pretty impressionable at the time, still was really, but there was a layer of suspicion and weariness now, thanks to Hector. He wasn't her first of course, she'd been with a guy in high school, but since it was nothing serious and had only happened a couple of times, Hector may as well have been the first. He was the first guy that stole her heart anyway.

The relationship hadn't even lasted that long though, so how he could have had such an impact, she wasn't sure. Okay, scratch that, she knew why. It was because of the things he did, the trouble he could have caused her.

Hector wasn't on the up and up, he was into some pretty shady stuff, and his father being a criminal defense attorney only made matters worse. He was a wealthy man, and though new to the area, he was pretty powerful among the legal community, often smoothing things over any time Hector found himself getting into trouble with the police. Which was often.

But Harmony hadn't realized that at first. He lavished her with attention and gifts, distracting her from asking any incriminating questions. Such as how he had all this money when he only worked part-time at her father's grocery store. And why his friends were like a revolving door, he pretty much never hung out with the same person more than a couple of times, or if he did, it wasn't on a regular basis, more like once a month or less.

And then it happened.

She and Hector were out for a drive one night, and had no idea the back tail light was out. At least, not until they had gotten pulled over and the cop told them it was. Hector had been driving, even though it was Harmony's father's car they were in, and when the officer asked to see his license, he found out it was suspended, asking to search the car.

Hector tried to tell her not to let them, but she figured, why not? Her father was no criminal, there was nothing to hide. Unbeknownst to her, though, Hector had thrown a duffle bag into the trunk when she had picked him up, and inside was something very incriminating indeed.

The bag had been filled with stolen electronics and drugs, lots, and lots of drugs. Some ten thousand dollars' worth of cocaine and heroin. She was flabbergasted, she couldn't believe he could do such a thing! It had all made sense after that, the money, his behavior, everything. How he had been able to so easily dupe her, though, she didn't know, and didn't want to think about it.

Lucky for Harmony, though, Hector's last act before prison was a noble one and he told the officer that the bag was his, that she had no knowledge of it whatsoever, which was the truth, but if he hadn't admitted it, she could have gone down right along with him. So she was at least thankful for that. Not that she ever spoke to him again, though. No way! And she was much more careful about the men she chose to date afterward. Feelings and gut instincts be damned.

Until Peter.

Harmony was having a hard time getting a read on him. One minute he seemed so damn shy, and the next, he was bold and kissing her like their lives depended on it! She wasn't sure what to believe. Not that she knew him very well, to begin with. Well, she knew he was a hockey player, and she knew his background, but she didn't really know him. Guess there was only one way to find out.

They walked back down the stairs together, Sadie having taken up her spot on the bed again and opting not to follow, and sitting down on the couch in the living room, Peter turned to her.

"Would you like me to turn on the TV?" He asked, seeming quite nervous himself.

Harmony shook her head. "I uh, I came to talk to you about last night."

"Oh," he said, looking to the floor. "I am sorry if I hurt you Harmony."

"Hurt me?" She nearly choked out, "Peter, you didn't hurt me."

He looked up, a faint smile touching the corners of his mouth. "But you left so fast. I thought for sure.."

He thought he had hurt her! How sweet was he? Harmony smiled at him, placing a hand on the side of his face and stroking his cheek gently with her fingers. "Peter that kiss..." she began, trying to find the right words, and fumbling as his smile grew wider, his eyes deepening in color. "It was amazing Peter."

"Then why did you leave?" He asked, his smile dropping as the confusion set in once more.

"Because it scared me."

Harmony dropped her hand back into her lap, as his head cocked to one side. Breathing deeply, she looked down and picked at her fingernails.

"I dated this guy once," she said, still refusing to look at him. "He was a bad man Peter, and he hurt me."

"He hit you?" Peter asked, his voice soft but laced with steel.

Her head flew up, she looked him in the eyes and began to shake her head, "no Peter, he didn't hit me." Peter seemed to relax a little, nodding even, and laid a hand on her knee, as though to comfort her and allow her the courage to continue talking. She smiled to reassure him. "He was into some pretty heavy stuff, and he got into a lot of trouble for it. I was devastated, I trusted him you know?"

Peter placed a finger under her chin when she would have dropped her head again, "I would never hurt you Harmony. Is promise."

And somehow, she knew he meant it. Which scared her even more.

"Thank you, Peter," she said in a low hushed voice, choked up with emotion. "I just wanted to clear the air, I think I should be going now. It's getting late, but..." Harmony started to say, trailing off as he leaned away from her, his eyes devoid of emotion, pulling at her heartstrings.

So Harmony did something she knew she'd later regret if she thought too much about it. She grabbed Peter by the shoulders, and she crushed her lips against his, taking him by such surprise that he grunted, before finally wrapping her in his arms and leading the kiss in new directions.

It was rough at first, her own doing, but once Peter took over, it softened quickly, his lips gentle, his tongue prodding, and when she opened her mouth to him, he savored the taste of her. She moaned, gripping her fingers into the shirt at his back, their tongues twisting and dancing around each other. The heat she'd come to know he could create in her, pooling in her loins.

And what heat it was! It scorched her, from head to toe as she was immersed in it, and it felt glorious! Like molten lava pouring over them both, consuming them with such force, such passion. Harmony was on her back beneath him before she knew it, the weight of his body pressing her into the plush cushions of the couch, the hard length of his torso melting into the softness of her curves.

But it didn't scare her in the least.

His hands skimmed up and down her body, touching the inside of one jean-clad thigh, scraping the sensitive flesh of her abdomen, the pads of his finger digging into her arms and shoulders as the kiss spun wildly out of control. Harmony was sure they were going to make love, right here on the couch.

Until a loud noise sounded behind them, startling them out of their feverish embrace.

Viktor stood before them, clearing his throat. A tall blonde woman standing next to him, each with a knowing grin on their Nordic faces.

Peter and Harmony sat up quickly. Shoving a pillow into his lap, Peter put his face in his hands and groaned. Blushing, Harmony righted her clothing and stood, holding a hand to the newcomers.

"Viktor I presume?" she said, biting her lip, her cheeks still flushed and red.

Despite himself, and the laughter bubbling inside him, Viktor remained composed, taking her hand and giving it a good shake. "And you are Harmony? It is very nice to meet you. This is Sandra," he said, indicating the woman next to him. He too spoke in a Russian accent, though his was not as thick as Peter's and his English much more fluent. The woman next to him just smiled, taking her hand as well and shaking it in a delicate and feminine way.

"So nice to meet you both," she agreed, turning to Peter who had finally reined himself in, and now sat on the arm on the couch, his hand resting on the small of her back. "I think I should go."

"Do not leave on my account." Viktor cut in, thoroughly embarrassing them both for the second time.

"No, really, I should go," she said again.

"I will walk you out," Peter said, standing and piercing Viktor with an angry stare lest he decided to laugh at them again. "I am very sorry about that," he said, holding the door open a moment later, Harmony standing just on the inside of the threshold.

She smiled at him, then scuffed her feet against the hardwood floors as she looked down at them. Peter lifted her chin, and though he towered over her, he looked at her with such a softness that she almost didn't want to leave. But rather, she would have gone straight up to his room and taken up where they had left off, if only he'd asked.

Peter sighed, however, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss upon her lips. "Please say that I can see you again?"

Her eyes still closed, her mouth bereft as he pulled away, she curved her lips into a smile, "of course," she whispered, trying to tamp down the surge of emotion that roiled within her.

"Spokojnoj noči, miss Harmony," he said in Russian, his forehead still resting lightly against her own.

"How beautiful," she murmured, "but what did you say?"

"Da, you are beautiful," Peter remarked, laughing now as her eyes closed to mere slits and she looked at him with such suspicion. "But I merely said goodnight."

"Oh. Goodnight Peter." She sighed.

Harmony waved to him, and walked down the path to her car, looking over her shoulder twice to see him leaning in the doorway, his legs crossed over each other as he watched her walk away. His stance so masculine, his face, the smile that graced his lips, she'd dream of this tonight. She was sure of it.

Amanda Orsini sat uncomfortably in a hospital gown on the exam room table, her arms crossed over her flat chest, a sneer on her face as she waited for Cassie to come back with some new clothes. She hadn't signed on for all this. Perhaps she should have looked into what a rape kit had entailed before agreeing to have one done.

How humiliating! Peter was going to pay for this for sure!

They'd forced her to stand on a piece of paper, while they shook out her clothes, combed through her hair, then made her undress, bagging her favorite skirt and the shirt she had torn. They took blood, they swabbed her mouth, and every inch of her body, they even scraped underneath her fingernails. They took pictures, and they examined her, down there. She balked at that of course, told them she hadn't been raped, and since they'd already photographed the scratch and swabbed it, she didn't see why anything else was necessary.

The stupid nurse, who claimed she was some sort of specialist, had told her it was all part of the procedure, and since it happened so fast, how could she be sure he hadn't gotten a finger under her panties? Maybe he had left some of his DNA behind.

But she knew better, there would be no DNA down there, of course, she couldn't tell them that, so she let the woman do her job, gasping when her cold gloved fingers touched the inside of her thigh, the stupid woman! Of course, now that she had thought about it, it occurred to her that her little late night tryst might have left behind something of his own, so she told the nurse she had a boyfriend, and that they'd just had sex that morning.

It was another lie of course, but Travis, her current boy toy would cover for her, for a price. She'd have to remember to call him. The nurse nodded and made note of that, telling her she'd probably have to let the police know so they could rule him out.

And Cassie, damn her, had taken advantage of the situation, leaving immediately to go and fetch some clothes for her, she had to come back to talk to the cops, though and promised she wouldn't be long. No, just long enough to leave her there alone while they poked and prodded her!

Just about the time Cassie returned, and Amanda was allowed to get dressed, two officers showed up to take her statement. They too claimed to be part of some special unit. Whatever, they were probably idiots too!

One of them was male, a big guy with a head full of gray hair and a protruding belly, probably ate one too many doughnuts. The other was a woman, she was on the taller side, with long black hair and brown eyes, prettier than she expected most cops to be, and she seemed sympathetic to her situation. Which was good, she'd need these two schmucks to believe her story, after all.

They made her go over the details several times, asking the same questions over and over, just in different ways. She also had to hand over her cell phone as evidence as she had that picture of her and Peter on it. Satisfied with her answers though they turned to Cassie.

"And what about you? What did you see?" The man, who called himself Detective Allen, asked her.

Cassie seemed nervous, stammering a little in her response, so Amanda gave her a slight nudge, glaring at her. "I uh, I didn't see much, I heard the scream, and as she said I ran around the corner" she gulped, the two cops exchanged glances. "He must have heard me coming, because when I got there, I saw a man running away, and Amanda was lying on her back on the ground."

"And did you recognize the man?" The woman, her partner had called her Darla, asked, writing something down on a pad of paper.

Cassie shook her head, "he had blonde hair, though, I think."

The officers looked at each other again, then Detective Allen said, "Alright, I think we've got everything we need, if we have any further questions we know where to find you."

"That's it?" Amanda huffed, crossing her arms over her chest again. "Are you going to arrest him now?"

Darla, who had been introduced as Detective Simms, shook her head, "We'll go and talk to him in the morning, but until the DNA evidence comes back, we have to tread quite carefully. This is bound to make a splash."

"You're damn right it will!" Amanda shouted, furious now. "I want that bastard arrested! He tried to rape me! He can't get away with it!"

Allen made a lowering motion with his hands, "calm down young lady. We understand what you must be going through, but we have to follow procedure."

Amanda huffed again, "fine. How long does this DNA crap take?" she asked, rolling her hands around for effect.

Darla gave her another sympathetic look, "three to four weeks, if he cooperates."

Detective Allen looked through some notes made by the nurse that had done the examination, then pointed his pencil in Amanda's direction. "Oh, I uh, I see here something about a boyfriend? I'll need his name and address; he'll have to give a sample so we can rule out his DNA."

Crap, Travis's price was sure to go up, she thought to herself, then rattled off his name and contact information. She'd have to call him as soon as they left and make sure he wouldn't blow this whole thing out of the water. He'd likely want a big piece of the pie for having to lie to the cops. Then again, he might just find the whole thing exciting, the big dope.

"Is there anything else?" Amanda griped, she was more than just a little ready to get home and take a shower. This whole thing was turning out to be more work than it was worth. Yeah right, I'm going to nail his ass. She sneered to herself.

"I think we're good," Darla said, motioning to her partner who left the room. Then she handed a card to Amanda, "here's the number for a counselor we often work with, in case you need to talk about it."

Amanda took the card, shoving it in her back pocket and gave the officer a sad smile, trying to play it off. She thanked her, and once the coast was clear, grabbed Cassie and headed for home. Glad the hardest part was over.

Or so she thought.

When he and Darla, Detective Simms, were back in their cruiser, Allen turned to his partner, "what did you make of that?" he asked, putting the car in gear and heading for the station. It was late, they'd get a fresh start in the morning, but they still had paperwork to do, and they'd need to submit the rape kit for testing.

Darla shook her head, "that poor girl, I can't imagine what she's feeling."

Allen snorted, "poor girl my ass."

"You don't believe her?" Darla asked, her tone incredulous.

Darla had a bleeding heart, she wasn't cut out for the job. Detective Rick Allen had been doing it a long time, his current partner, Tammy Kingsman, was on maternity leave, so he'd been riding around with Darla Simms, a rookie by all accounts. Oh she'd done a few years on patrol, as well as a couple in homicide, but at 32 she'd decided she wanted to work sex crimes, and Allen wasn't sure why. Maybe she was good with the victims, but hell, sometimes it was hard to tell who the victim was, and in this case, he'd bet his pension it wasn't Miss Amanda Orsini.

But don't tell Darla that. Women just didn't lie about such things.

And maybe that was true ten years ago, when false accusations were few and far between, and even then probably had some grain of truth to them. But in this day and age? Nah, he didn't think so. People were suing people left and right, and he'd wager that Ms. Orsini was a lover scorned, or maybe the hockey player had just flat out turned her down. Yeah, that was more likely, she was just looking to make a buck off the poor guy. First thing on his agenda was getting a copy of her text messages for the last twenty-four hours and checking her call logs, as well as social media accounts.

If she was smart enough to get a rape kit done, though, he'd bet she was smart enough to keep her mouth shut about things too. Never hurt to look, though.

But he'd keep his suspicions to himself, for now, he'd wait and hear Mr. Petrovic's side of the story.

"I've got an idea or two about what I think happened," he grumbled, never taking his eyes off the road.

"Mind telling the rest of the class?"

"Maybe tomorrow." They pulled into the parking lot of the precinct then, both getting out of the car and stretching before heading inside. "I'm beat, let's just get this paperwork done and call it a day. There's always tomorrow Darla, there's always tomorrow."
Chapter 6

The Accusation

Harmony couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, Lupus lifting his head and whining at one point, clearly sensing her discomfort. She patted him on the head, then dropping her feet over the side of the bed, getting up and going to the kitchen.

After a glass of hot chocolate, and a few cookies, she plopped down onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. She couldn't get Peter and their almost love making out of her head.

The way he had touched her, he was so gentle, and yet, she felt the undercurrent of power and desire. He had been holding back for sure. And that made him so much more endearing to her. That he could want her so fiercely and at the same time be able to control his urges so that his touch was tender rather than rough.

She had realized by now that she wanted him just as badly. She wanted to know what it felt like to be claimed by him, it wasn't enough that his eyes bespoke the kind of passion he could show her, she wanted to feel it. She wanted to feel him, hot and sweaty, and naked, all over her body. And she would. By God, she would damn it! To hell with caution, what had that ever gotten her?

Well, everything really. But whatever, Peter wasn't Hector, and she could see that as clearly as she could see the sun rise every day. She knew he came from a respectable family, and that he was dedicated to his job, he didn't do drugs, not even steroids, nor was he an alcoholic. So how much more did she really need to know about the man?

It wasn't fair to expect him to wait until she knew his entire life story, though she was certain he would if she asked him too. And that was just another check in the right box, Peter was being beyond patient with her, he was practically putting her up on a damn pedestal! Okay, so maybe he wasn't going that far, but he did treat her like some sort of delicate hothouse flower. Which was kind of sweet really. She'd never met a man who could be so gentle, and yet elicit such a powerful response from her. Peter was an enigma, one that she was determined to figure out.

A knock on his bedroom door woke Peter early the next morning. Not that he had slept all that well, to begin with. He had to take a long cold shower after Harmony had left, and then he'd crawled into bed, shoving his head in his pillow and thinking embarrassingly back on how the night had all gone down. He should have brought her up to his room, for the love of God, he would have stripped her bare, right there on the couch!

The knock sounded again, pulling him from his memories, and rightfully so, every time he thought about Harmony and her lithe little body wriggling beneath him, he felt like he'd need another cold shower.

"Da, is open," he called out.

Viktor poked his head in, looking around the room as though he almost expected to see someone else in there with him, then with a sheepish grin, that quickly turned serious he looked at Peter and said, "the police are here to see you."

Peter shot up in bed, "the police?" he exclaimed, his thoughts racing, thinking about Harmony, was she hurt? Was she okay? No, no he had to get a hold of himself, this had nothing to do with Harmony. "The police?" he asked again.

Viktor nodded, "da Peter, the police. Get dressed and come down, they are waiting for you." He said, closing the door behind him.

Throwing on a pair of sweats and a team issued t-shirt, Peter pointed a finger at Sadie, who lifted her head and yawned, "stay!" he said, leaving the room and closing the door behind him so she wouldn't follow. He took the stairs two at a time, and came to a halt just inside the living room. There sat two detectives in plain clothes, a man, and a woman.

The man stood, holding out a hand to him, "good morning Mr. Petrovic, my name is Detective Allen, and this is Detective Simms, if you don't mind, we have a couple of questions we'd like to ask you."

Peter nodded, "da, okay."

"Do you speak English fluently?" The woman, Simms asked him then, making Peter go a little red in the cheeks.

Sensing his discomfort, Viktor stepped in between them, "I speak fluently, Peter can understand most of what you say, what he cannot I will translate for him, and I will be happy to translate his response as well."

They seemed content with that, everyone taking a seat on either the couch or the loveseat, and the two officers pulling out their notebooks and flipping through a couple of pages. Detective Allen looked at him then, holding his pencil at the ready.

"Peter, can you tell me where you were around 10:30 last night?"

"Da, yes, I was here," he answered, his eyes narrowing. "What is this about?"

"All night?" Simms chimed in, her eyes shooting lasers at him. Or so it seemed, there was such contempt there, but Peter couldn't begin to understand why.

"I was at the bar, McDonough's, before that. I was there with Andre."

Detective Simms stopped writing, looking up at him, "Andre?" she asked.

"Andre Lepowski, he is our teammate." Viktor supplied.

Before Simms could say anything else, her partner cleared his throat, "And what time did you leave the bar Peter?" he cut in.

"About 10:15 or so, I do not have a watch, but I was watching the ESPN on TV, I remember it was just after 10 when last I looked at clock on their station."

"Was anyone here with you when you came back? Perhaps you?" Allen asked, pointing his pencil in Viktor's direction.

Viktor shook his head, "I did not come home until after 11."

"Harmony was with me," Peter interrupted, blushing as he said her name. "Not at first, but she got here before Viktor did. She left when he came home."

"Harmony is the girl he's seeing, they were on the couch.." Peter cleared his throat and shot Viktor a look, laughing, Viktor turned back to the police. "She left when I came home."

The cops exchanged glances, Allen wrote something down, and then Simms asked, "where does Harmony live? Do you have her address?"

"Net," Peter supplied shaking his head, "but she works at grocery store in Pooler is HomeTown something, I do not remember. We have not been dating all that long." He still had no idea what was going on here, but he was reluctant to get Harmony involved in any way. Truth be told, he knew exactly what the name of her father's grocery store was, but he wasn't about to tell them. Hopefully, they would just leave her alone.

Detective Allen reached into his pocket then, pulling out a small photograph and handing it to Peter. "Do you know this girl?" he asked. The two police officers watching his expression intently as he looked it over.

Peter squinted his eyes trying to see if he remembered her face, but no memory of her surfaced. "I do not think so." And then because his patience was wearing thin he asked again, "what is this all about?"

Viktor however, having lived in America for nearly a decade now, was quickly piecing things together. He turned to Peter, speaking in their native tongue. "I do not like this Peter, I think it is time we ask them to leave."

Peter shook him off.

"What's he saying?" Simms asked her partner, leaning in.

Allen shrugged, "hell if I know, I don't speak Russian."

"In English please." Simms piped up, looking disgruntled, she didn't like feeling the fool.

"Does Peter need a lawyer?" Viktor asked, Peter's mouth going wide at the remark.

"What do you mean Viktor? Why would I need a lawyer, what is this all about?" He whispered hoarsely, defying the lady cop and speaking to him in Russian.

"Will you excuse us please?" Viktor said, his tone polite though his words were clipped. He pulled Peter into the kitchen. "Peter, I do not know what it going on, but I think we need to call Erin. Do you remember a few years ago? About this time?"

Peter had to think for a minute, anger marring his handsome features as a thought came to mind. "You think this is like that? You think she is saying I raped her?"

Viktor shrugged, "I do not know, but it would be better if we do not talk to them again until you have seen Erin."

"It is agreed then, make them leave." Peter fled from the kitchen taking the stairs quicker than he had on the way down and slamming his door shut behind him.

Pulling himself together, as not to let his feelings show, Viktor leafed through a stack of cards, coming up with the one he wanted and holding it out to the male detective.

"This conversation is over. Peter will say no more. Please leave."

Allen took the card, turning it over in his big bear like hands a couple of times before looking up at Viktor, "I take it we're to call his lawyer if we'd like to talk to him again?"

"Yes. He will call and set up an appointment. Peter is innocent of whatever that girl claims.."

"Then why won't he talk to us?" Simms cut in, making the big Russian mad.

Viktor balled his fists, he had to control his rage, "You will please leave. Peter will see you in the office of his lawyer." He walked to the door then, opening it and looking down, waiting for them to leave.

With one more glance between them, the officers left. Viktor slamming the door behind them.

"Well," Darla said as they walked down the steps and opened the doors to the cruiser. "That was fun. What next?"

"I guess we take a little trip to see the girlfriend."

"And you know where she is?"

Allen nodded, " HomeTown Grocery Mart, that's in Pooler, I know the place well."

"Great. Hicksville USA." Darla muttered, putting her seat belt on.

Harmony had just finished up the afternoon deposit, well more like the night before, but it was put in with the deposit they would make in the afternoon, so it was all the same to her. Everyone was fit and healthy again, and since she'd opened this morning, in a few hours, she'd get to go home, have a night to herself for once. Gosh, whatever would she do?

Maybe she'd go and see Peter?

A knock sounded at the office door then. Kate peering around it, "there's someone here to see you, Harm."

"Who?" she asked, putting everything back in its proper place.

Kate shrugged, "I dunno, I didn't ask, he looks official though."

Great. She thought to herself. Probably another real estate developer. Didn't they ever give up? Obviously not. Harmony told Kate to let him in and shuffled around a few more sets of folders and the like that she had been organizing.

"Ms. Chilson, my name is Maclavoy, I'm with the Donaldson firm, might that I have a few moments of your time?" Asked a tall pleasant looking gentleman who looked to be about forty.

Harmony cut him to the quick, however, refusing to shake his hand as he extended it, "I'm not interested in selling. It seems you've wasted your time. Good day."

He smiled, cat-like in his expression. "My you are a feisty one, your father said as much."

"My father? You've spoken to my father?" he nodded. "Then you know we're not interested in selling. So again, good day." Harmony looked back down to the papers before her, sorting them as though he had never even been there.

Maclavoy wasn't giving up so easily, though. "I'm not interested in buying... well, not entirely anyways."

Her head popped up. "I'm listening. You've got two minutes."

That smile was back, and with that, he dropped his briefcase on the table top, opening it and pulling out a contract, sliding it over to her. "It's all pretty standard Ms. Chilson, but please do take your time in looking it over. Take it to your attorney if you'd like. We're being more than generous."

Harmony flipped through the first couple of pages, her gaze landing on the "more than generous" figure he was implying. She did her best to hide her shock as she absorbed the number. So many zeros! She thought.

"Let me get this straight, you just want to buy the surrounding property? Not our building?"

"That's correct." He closed his briefcase, snapping the lock on it shut and causing her to jump a little as the noise startled her. "I assume you've been approached by several vendors already, which is why my company has no interest in insulting you. Rather, we feel we could be beneficial partners instead."

She thought about that for a minute. Surely his employer was aware of the offers they'd already gotten, and how each and every one had been turned down, which is why his approach was so much different. And the money! Gosh, the money they could make from selling the surrounding property, which really, made a lot of sense, they were spending a fortune every year in taxes and lawn services to maintain it all, so why not sell it off? She'd have to think about it. Run it by her father, though, obviously he had known, or he wouldn't have told this gentleman to come and talk to her.

"I'll talk to my father about it. When do you need an answer by?"

Maclavoy's lips curled satisfactorily, "take your time, we're in no rush." He said, picking up his briefcase, shaking her hand and letting himself out.

No rush indeed.

Yeah right. He'd be like a dog with a bone and she knew it. No matter, though. She'd talk to her father, take the contract to their lawyer and go from there. Yes, it was a more than generous offer, but she'd reason that she could probably squeeze them for a little more. And she just might. Giving up this land, even if it was just the land, was bound to be hard on her.

Though, the benefits would far out weight letting go of some dirt and gravel. She'd be able to hire a few more employees, a couple of shift supervisors maybe, since she did intend to promote one of her current employees to an assistant manager once she officially took over, and this could be just the funds to get it all done. Make for one nice nest egg too!

Yeah, she'd have a lot to think about, especially since she was seeing someone now. And maybe that wasn't smart, planning her future around a man she barely knew, but she had a good feeling about Peter, and if she was going to have any kind of life with him, she'd have to start making some room in that life to fit him in.

Just as she resigned herself to all these thoughts, nearly succumbing to those of last night and the intimacy they had shared, Kate poked her head around the door again.

"Police are here to see you, boss," she said, a worried look on her face.

"The police?" Harmony rushed from behind the counter, her first thought that something was wrong with her father.

The officers stood waiting just outside, a man and a woman, wearing indecipherable expressions.

"Good morning Officers, how can I help you?" Harmony asked, her voice calm, belying the fear that was coursing through her, trying to tamp down the bile as she imagined her father dead or bleeding.

The male detective held out a hand, introducing them both before saying more quietly, "is there somewhere more private we can go?"

Harmony shook her head, leading them into the office she had just vacated and closing the door behind them, her nerves strung taut, she was sure this had to do with her father. God, what was she going to do without him?

The woman surprised her then, "what's your relationship with Petrovsky Petrovic?" she asked.

"Huh? Peter?" she asked, her heart still hammering, head still spinning. Harmony sat down, trying to regain control of herself. "I um...I'm sorry, what's this about?"

"We didn't mean to scare you any." Detective Allen said, realizing she must have thought something entirely different, and trying to soothe her frazzled nerves. "We just need to ask you a couple of questions, if that's alright?"

Harmony looked up, there was compassion in the male cop's eyes, but the woman, downright suspicious in her glare. "About Peter?" she finally managed.

Allen shook his head. "How well do you know Mr. Petrovic?"

"Peter?" She just couldn't seem to wrap her mind around this, there were two cops standing in her office asking her about her relationship with Peter? This was too bizarre by half. "I've only known him for a couple of weeks now, why? What's going on? Is Peter alright?"

"Did you see Mr. Petrovic last night Ms. Chilson?" The female cop, Simms, asked, ignoring her own questions.

"Yes. I did, I was at his house for about an hour. I think. Why? Will you please tell me why you're asking me about Peter?"

"We're just asking some questions, trying to get a good idea of what happened last night." Simms, the woman again.

"How did Peter seem to you? Was he acting strangely? Dressed weird in any way?" Allen continued, one question after another, barely giving her time to register the first one.

"What? Strange? What are you talking about? Peter seemed fine to me. And I think he'd just gotten out of the shower. What is this all about? I think I deserve some kind of answers here!" She was becoming more and more frustrated by the minute. What the hell was going on?

The detectives exchanged glances then, flipping their little notebooks shut. Then Simms, looking smug as ever, handed her a card. "You certainly do ma'am." She said, her voice almost mocking in its tone. "Maybe you should ask Mr. Petrovic what's going on. If you think of anything else though, give us a call." She turned on her heel then, clomping out of the office as she went.

Allen gave a shrug and a sad sort of smile, then he too made his way out of the office, following just behind his partner.

Harmony slumped down in the chair behind her desk. What the hell was that all about?

Darla shoved her partner with her shoulder as they exited the building, "how about that? A shower huh? Why do you think he needed a shower, Allen?" She said, her tone condescending as hell.

Allen humphed to himself, he wasn't going to rise to her bait. He had his own opinions on this case, and he wasn't sharing them just yet.

### Chapter 7

You have no Case

Peter sat in the waiting room of Erin Paulino and associates, the number one criminal defense attorney in the state. His lawyer. Not that he'd ever needed one in the past, but the organization kept her on retainer for instances just like this. Of course, what this was exactly, he still wasn't sure.

After leaving the cops, he'd gone and called Jean immediately, since she spoke Russian as well, and was their PR go to, he figured she'd be the best one to help him out. At the rate things were going, whatever this was, would be all over the news by tonight, so best to nip it in the bud now. Jean had told him to stay calm, which was easier said than done, then asked him to get dressed and meet her at the lawyer's office, she said she'd take care of setting up a meeting and getting to the bottom of things.

Viktor had driven him, Peter was far too mad to drive himself anyways, and was now keeping him company while they waited. Jean had been in the office with Erin for a good half hour already. It was making him nervous again.

Jean opened the door then, she'd been with the Slashers organization since the onset, and even though she was sixty something, you'd never know it by the youthful vigor her aura projected. She was a tall woman, close to Peter's own height, with short gray hair and a pleasant smile. Jean reminded him of his mother, and really that's how most of the team felt about her, she was always there for her "boys" as she called them. Especially now, when one of them was in trouble, she was like a mother lion, all protective and fierce.

"Peter, you can come in now," she said, trying to smile despite the dour mood they were all in.

Viktor stood and followed behind him, shutting the door as soon as they both were in.

From behind her big desk, Erin Paulino, who was an impressive woman in her own rights, stood and motioned him to the seat in front of her, "Peter," she said. "Before we get started, I want you to know that attorney-client privilege is void with them in the room, so if there's anything you need to say to me that would effect that, then wait until they leave."

He shook his head, "I have nothing to hide. Am innocent."

"You are damn right you are Peter! What is this girl saying?" Viktor thundered, he had been holding onto his temper for longer than he'd realized, and couldn't restrain himself anymore.

Jean placed a hand on Viktor's shoulder, "calm down Viktor. Let's all just sit and talk about this rationally," she said in that motherly tone of hers, taking charge and getting everyone settled before Erin spoke again.

"I've spoken with the sheriff, and at this point, we don't know much. After assuring me that your part in all of this will NOT be leaked in any way to the press, the sheriff informed me that he hasn't talked to his detectives to know where they're at with the investigation.."

"What investigation?" Viktor cut in, his voice clipped, as he relayed Peter's exact thoughts.

"A woman claims that Peter sexually assaulted her last night," Erin said flatly, her voice lacking any emotion as she assessed her client's reaction.

Peter was stunned. He looked first to Viktor, who was silently fuming and then to Jean, where he saw sorrow and compassion in her eyes. How could this be? He wondered. Who would say such a thing? And why?

"I do not understand."

Viktor lost it then, "what is not to understand Peter? That girl of whom they showed you the picture of, she is saying you tried to rape her. Is this not correct?" he yelled, looking at Erin though the comment was to no one in particular.

"That's right Viktor. We'll have to wait for the detectives to arrive, they should be here soon, and then we can find out the particulars. Unless there's something you can tell us now? Peter?"

Peter looked at Erin, he didn't know what to say, Harmony was the only woman he had talked to last night. Unless.. He shook his head. "I was at McDonough's with Andre last night. There was a girl, but she was still with him when I leave. I do not understand this. Why would girl with Andre accuse me of such a thing?"

"And that was the only girl?" Erin asked, writing his responses down on a piece of paper.

Jean grabbed his hand then, giving it a little squeeze. "It's okay Peter," she assured him, though it did nothing to ease his mind.

"Is not okay Ms. Jean. But yes, this is only girl I remember. Andre and I talk to her, then he buy her a drink and I pay my bill and leave."

"What happened then?" Erin inquired, her face a mask as she hid her opinion of the matter one way or the other.

"Then I leave and..." he trailed off, the memories of last night coming back to him in snatches. He hadn't been drunk by any means, hell he'd only had three beers the whole night, but it all seemed like such a nightmare now. Even his time with Harmony was tainted.

Erin prodded him, sensing his hesitation, "and what Peter? What happened?"

"There was girl, net, that is not right, there was two of them, they say they were fans. They ask for my autograph, and a picture." He shrugged, it really was such an insignificant thing, after all, fans approached him all the time. "I give to them, and then I leave."

There was a knock on the door then, the secretary poking her head in to announce that the detectives had arrived.

"Escort them in, Sandy, thank you," Erin said, turning her attention to Peter and the group. "Showtime guys."

Detective Allen in all his portliness took a seat next to Peter, Detective Simms however, stood at the back of the room, leaning menacingly against the back wall, as though to appear bigger than she was.

"Detectives," Erin began, once everyone in the room seemed to settle in a little. "My client has been advised that he does not have to answer any of your questions if he so chooses," Simms glowered in his direction then, as Erin continued, "however, he has decided to listen to what you have to say and cooperate at his own discretion."

Allen cleared his throat, pulling a small notebook from his pocket and flipping through a couple of pages before settling on one in particular. "Let's talk about what happened when you left you the bar son," he began, his southern accent showing through, he spoke as though this were no more than a casual conversation, and not the horrendous ordeal that it really was. "Did you talk to anyone?"

Peter looked at Erin and nodded.

"My client and I went over this before you got here, he said he gave a couple of girls...I mean, a couple of fans, an autograph, and a picture, and then he headed home. I believe you've already questioned him regarding his movements after the bar, if I'm correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," Allen said all cordial like, "there was one more question though about that."

Peter looked to Erin, waiting for the cop to spit it out.

"Why did you take a shower when you got home, son?"

What? Peter thought, running through his and Viktor's earlier conversation with the police. When had he mentioned a shower? He hadn't, that must mean... Harmony... they'd spoken to Harmony. Great, just great. What had they said to her? Peter was getting mad then, the tension in him coiling tightly, but he forced himself not to explode.

"My dog. I let my dog out and then back in when I get home. She jumped on me and covered me in dirt. Is not that reason enough to shower?" he said between clenched teeth. Glaring from one detective to the other.

Allen seemed to flush a little, perhaps embarrassed by the situation, and then reaching into his pocket he pulled out the photograph again, the one he had shown him earlier. It was of a small girl and her slightly plump friend smiling together in a selfie. "Are these the girls?" He asked, handing the photo to him.

Peter looked it at, the girl's image coming back to him now that he had really given it some thought. "Da, yes, that is them," he said, hiding his dispassion.

"But you didn't recognize them earlier?" Simms said sarcastically, speaking for the first time.

Viktor leapt forward then from his perch in the seat across the room, snatching the photo out of Peter's hand, "let me see this," he growled, then suddenly laughed.

"What's so funny?" Detective Simms asked, reaching for the picture and looking rather pissed off as well.

Viktor merely laughed again, then allowing her to take the picture, dropped his angry voice to a brooding whisper, though with his vocal capacity, it came out just a few octaves shy of shouting. "If this is girl, you have no case."

Everyone turned to face him then, waiting for an explanation. Viktor sank back into his chair, shrugging, his face contorted into a self-satisfied grin. "Peter, do you not remember the other night? The three of us? You, me, and Andre? This is the same girl that went home with him."

Peter shook his head, the memory of that night resurfacing, he could place her, but just barely. No sooner than she and her friend had come over, had he left. "Da, I remember. You are sure this is same girl?"

"Oh, is same girl. I never forget a face. Besides, I thought the little plump one was cute. It was too bad she left."

Simms shot him a disgusted look, then peered down at the picture in her hand, as though contemplating this newest information. Trying to decipher whether or not she believed it.

Allen cleared his throat again, drawing the attention back to him, "Andre, that would be Andre Lepowski?"

"Da. That is him." Peter replied.

"We'll uh, we'll talk to him as soon as we finish up here," He pinned Erin with his eyes, the next part of his statement obviously meant for her "I assume he won't need a lawyer too?"

Erin smiled, straightening her shoulders ever so slightly, "I can't imagine why he would. Will there be anything else... detective?" She asked sweetly, pleased by the recent turn of events.

"I think that's about all the questions we have for now. I suppose we ought to get in touch with you first if we have any more?"

Erin nodded, handing him her card.

Allen turned to leave, then as though he had just remembered something, he looked back at Peter, "would you mind giving a DNA sample son?" He asked, trying to play the remark off as an afterthought.

Though no one, including Peter, was fool enough to buy that.

"Is no problem." Peter said, holding up a hand to cut his lawyer off, "I am innocent, you will see this."

Detective Allen sent Erin a slight grin, elated by the fact that her client was so easily going against her advice, as surely she had forbid him of such things, just in case. Then shooting a glance at his partner, he nodded to her and said, "Simms, will you tell the crime scene technician to go ahead and get that sample for us?" He put a hand on Peter's shoulder, "thank your son, the sooner we get this all cleared up, the better off you'll be."

Simms left the room briefly, a small Asian man with thick rimmed glasses, carrying a case that looked more like a tackle box, trailing behind her when she came back. Peter opened his mouth, allowing the technician to take his swab, and then moved to the water cooler for a drink. He wanted to wash the taste of cotton out of his mouth. The man and both detectives filed out of the office, Allen giving the room a small salute before closing the door behind him.

God, Peter just wanted this nightmare to be over.

"Shit," Darla said, the moment they reached the cruiser and got inside.

"What's a matter, Darla? Case not going how you hoped it would?" Allen needled her, laughing under his breath.

"Fuck you, Allen."

"Temper, temper." He teased, wagging a finger in her face as he maneuvered the car onto the road and in the direction of their next witness.

"I still think he's guilty."

"Really?" He sounded almost shocked, it got on her nerves that much more.

"The friend's obviously covering for him, you watch, this next friend will be too. How much do you want to bet Petrovic and that giant have already called him? I'm telling you, Allen, he tried to rape that girl."

"I'm not saying you're wrong..."

"But?" she asked piteously.

"The facts just don't seem to support the claim."

"The facts?" she laughed angrily. "What the hell do you mean the facts don't seem to support the claim? We have pictures of that ass hole with his arms around her! We have a witness, A WITNESS! That saw him run away..."

"No," he argued, cutting her off mid-rant, "we have a nervous young lady who says she saw a man, who probably had blonde hair, running away. I have my doubts as to her credibility."

"Oh? And why is that? Please oh mighty Allen, shed on me your wisdom."

He snorted, turning down one road and then another, "She says she left her friend in the company of Mr. Petrovic and then went back inside to the bathroom. She came out, heard the screams, assumed they were her friend's and ran around the building to investigate."

"Your point?"

"When you were that age, Darla...Okay, never mind, that's not an apt comparison. Let's try this another way. How many girls that age, that have Ms. Thompson's body type, do you think would willingly go out into the streets at night, to investigate another woman's screams?"

She had to think about it for a minute. Then shook her head, "okay, so maybe the friend is lying, that doesn't mean Orsini is."

"Doesn't it, though? It stands to reason that if one is lying then they both are. Or is that not intuition 101?"

"Maybe she just doesn't think her testimony alone would be enough, ever think of that?" She raved, going off on a tangent. "And that Lawyer! Damn it all to hell! Of course, he'd hire a woman! Oooh, and I'm sure she'll sell him, good looks and all to any jury. Bat her eyelashes and say 'Why would a man like him have to rape a woman?' It just pisses me off I tell ya!"

"Why are you so hell bent on this kid being guilty?" Allen asked pointedly, pulling up into the driveway of Andre Lepowski.

"Because I'm sick of all these rich athletes getting away with this shit! And who's to say he didn't do it? You saw how he acted in there. That scared and bashful crap is just a bluff, I could practically feel the rage! And the big one! My God! Russian's are such fucking brutes!" She rambled on, her own discrimination coming through in waves.

Allen laughed at her, "a little prejudice are we?" he joked. "Come along Darla, let's see what Lepowski has to say." He got out and had a smoke, letting her stew a little longer.

### Chapter 8

Can you Trust me?

It was hours before Peter and Viktor finally left the lawyer's office. And though he felt a little better after Viktor had pointed out the fact that this was, in fact, the same girl that had slept with Andre, it still didn't make it all go away. And there was Harmony to deal with. What would he say to her? How could he explain this?

Well, he was about to find out.

Pulling into the alley behind the house, she sat on the hood of his car, her car parked behind it. She looked up from her phone as they approached, smiled, kind of sad like, and stood. Peter got out and went to her, telling Viktor he'd close the garage door. Viktor nodded, and headed inside, letting the dogs out so Peter would have one less thing to worry about.

"Peter." Harmony said, standing just out of reach.

She looked him over, took in his rumpled suit, his hair, mussed up, as if he'd combed his fingers through it more than once, and then gazed deep into his eyes. They were like ice, devoid of most of their color. There was such pain in them, she couldn't help herself, she reached out for him, took him into her arms, and held him tight.

Peter melted into her embrace, his head resting on top of hers, he wanted to cry. But men didn't do that. He had to be strong. He didn't know how much she knew, or how much he should tell her, but right now, he knew he needed this, he needed her. God, she smelled like heaven.

Harmony slowly pulled away after a few more minutes, looking him over once more, the color had come back into his eyes a little, his cheeks heated as well. Was he embarrassed?

"Peter," she said again, trying to find the right words. "The police came by my work today. They were asking questions. About you."

He swallowed visibly.

"Did something happen last night Peter? Is something wrong?"

"I cannot tell you everything, I have been advised to stay quiet and let the law do as they will." His voice came out a whisper, he wanted to tell her, he hoped he could trust her. But how could he be so sure? What if she didn't believe him?

"Tell me what Peter? What's going on?"

He could see the hurt, and the confusion in her eyes, and damn it, he didn't want to do this to her! Hadn't he promised he wouldn't?

"Harmony, I made promise not to hurt you, and I will do best to keep it. I cannot tell you now, but can you just say you trust me?" He asked, gently reaching out a hand and stroking the side of her face.

Harmony leaned into his touch, there was such tenderness there. She had no idea what Peter was facing, but as of right now, if he asked her to trust him, then she would. "Okay, I trust you."

"Thank you. Would you like to come in?"

She wanted to, she was about to say yes even, but the knowledge that something was hanging between them, something Peter either couldn't or wouldn't talk about, was bearing down on her just then. She needed to let it sink in for a minute, and give her brain enough time to catch up, there was so much going on as of now. What with the future of her father's store, and now this, whatever it was, that Peter was facing.

Besides, she still needed to drop by the lawyer's office here in town and have him go over the contract she had been extended, and have a little chat about it with her father as well. Maybe she could persuade him to have dinner with her here in the city, keep things on mutual ground.

"I have things I need to get done.." she began, stopping as Peter dropped his hand from her face, taking a step back and looking as though she had burned him with her remark. And so a thought occurred to her... "Why don't you have dinner with me tonight Peter? I'm meeting my father later to go over some paperwork, but we can just have drinks, and then maybe the three of us can go and have dinner?" Peter's lips twitched slightly, she could tell he liked her offer, but he wasn't sold, so she rushed on before he could object. "I'm sure you could use a distraction about now... Let me distract you tonight Peter."

And she had a buyer.

Peter's soft shy smile returned, her heart melting at the sight of it. "Da, this sounds like good idea. May I ask where and what time?"

She thought about it for a second, and decided maybe getting out of town would be the best route. "How about Marlin Monroe's? That's out on Tybee Island, it's such a nice area. Say 7?"

"Da, I know Marlin's, Dean lives out there. 7 is good. I see you then." Peter leaned down, brushed a kiss on her forehead, and after another brief smile, he turned and walked into the open garage, the door slowly closing behind him.

Harmony wondered if she was making a fool's decision.

After taking the elevator to the third floor of the complex, Detectives Allen and Simms found themselves in front of Andre Lepowski's door, and knocking loudly they waited for an answer. Allen was calm, his face a mask of serenity, while Simms was agitated. It seemed that aside from the rape kit itself, this entire investigation may very well hinge on the testimony of Mr. Lepowski.

Andre answered a few minutes later, clad in sweats and a loose t-shirt, his hair was a mop of brown, disheveled as though he had just gotten out of bed. "Yeah?" he asked, leaning in the doorjamb.

Allen introduced himself and then Darla, though he only referred to her by her first name when they were alone, everyone in the station did. That or they called her rascal, after her namesake. It seemed to grate on her nerves, which made everyone enjoy it that much more. He was professional about it though now, referring to her as Detective Simms.

"May we come in Mr. Lepowski, we have a few questions we'd like to ask."

Andre shrugged and moved inside, allowing them room to pass. "Sure, just let me get rid of my guest first. You can wait in the living room."

The detectives followed his suggestion, checking the place out as they made their way to the living area, "swanky place." Darla whispered. Allen nodded, swanky place indeed.

Andre disappeared into a door down the hall, and they could hear voices, too low to be discernible, and they certainly couldn't hear the conversation. But a couple of minutes later, Andre returned, an attractive brunette behind him. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, said he'd give her a call, though Allen doubted that, and ushered her out the door, closing it behind her.

"So what can I help you with today officers?" he asked, walking into the living area and leaning a hip against a lazy boy recliner.

"Have you spoken to Peter Petrovic or Viktor Bortnik today?" Simms asked, nearly butchering Viktor's last name.

Andre considered her for a moment, she sure was a pretty little thing. Feisty too, if he hadn't misjudged that slight attitude in her voice. He shook his head, "I have not. As you could see, I've been a little... preoccupied...so far today. Why do you ask?"

Allen cleared his throat, which he seemed to do far too often for Darla's comfort, he was always cutting her off, like she didn't know how to do her damn job. "Mr. Lepowski..."

"Andre, please. Mr. Lepowski is my father." He shot a crooked grin in the lady cops direction. Darla snorted.

"Andre..." Allen began again, "could you tell us about last night?"

"What about it?"

"Just give us a general rundown of the events of last night, while you were at the bar with Mr. Petrovic."

Andre narrowed his eyes, his expression shrewd. "Just what are you insinuating, detective?" he asked.

Darla was getting aggravated by that point, they were getting nowhere, and Andre was about to circle the wagons like the rest of them. "Just show him the damn picture Allen," she hissed.

Startled, Allen cleared his throat again, murmured something unintelligible, and pulled the photo out of his pocket, handing it to Andre, who reached out and took it, sitting down in the chair to study it. "Do you recognize either of the ladies?" he asked.

Andre smiled, one of those, the cat ate the canary types of grins, and tapped on the image of Ms. Orsini. "Yeah, I know this one....we uh..." he trailed off, some thought or another catching up to him. Tossing the picture on the coffee table in front of him, he stood, arms crossed and scowled at them, one at a time. "What is this? What's she saying? I swear to God, anything that went on between us was completely consensual, and if she's saying otherwise..."

Allen held up a hand, Darla just sat back looking like she'd sucked a lemon, this was not going at all the way she hoped it would. "Now son, just calm down."

"The fuck you say?" Andre nearly exploded, "I think I need to call my lawyer."

"This isn't about you Andre, can you just hear us out?" Allen said, as Andre was already grabbing for the phone.

Darla didn't say a word, just shrugged her shoulders when Andre's gaze landed on her. She was pissed, this case was deteriorating right before her eyes.

"Well?" Andre finally said, laying his cell phone on the table next to the discarded photo.

"Can you tell me when you and uh....the young lady first met?"

"I thought you said this wasn't about me?" He reached for his phone again. Darla cut him to the quick, snatching it away from him and drawing an indignant glare.

"Just answer the damn question," she snapped.

"Fine," Andre barked, sitting down again and leaning back in his chair. He tented his hands in front of him, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. "Sometime last week, Tuesday I think."

"Where?" Allen piped in, pulling out his notebook and writing it all down. "And can you explain the encounter in detail? You can uh....leave out the uh....well, you know," he said, his cheeks flushing.

"Yeah, yeah okay. I was at the bar; you know, the one on Perry Street. It was me and a couple of my teammates, Viktor and Peter. These two girls come up to us, and I figured she was cute, her name was... I dunno, Amanda or Amber, I don't remember." Darla shot him a disgusted look, though if he noticed it, he didn't show it. "Anyways, Peter left, and her little friend decided to go home too, so it was just me and her, Viktor excused himself about that time as well. So we came back to my place....and we uh... well, you know. And then she left."

"About what time did she leave?"

"Hell, I dunno, about midnight I guess. I was done with her by then, I told her she couldn't stay the night. She didn't take it personally; I can assure you she was completely fine with my asking her to leave." He pinned Darla with another one of those cocky grins of his, acting as though his blasé attitude towards women was perfectly acceptable. "So what is this all about?" He asked, looking back at Allen.

"I'll get to that in a minute son, just a few more questions." Allen flipped a couple pages, then continued. "Last night, you were at McDonough's again with Peter, is that right?"

"Yeah, we go there like once a week."

"And did you see Ms. Orsini, er um, the young lady there last night?"

Andre thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "No, I don't recall seeing her."

"So you didn't see her, or maybe her and her friend talking to Peter?"

"No. I just said I didn't see her, and I certainly didn't see her with Peter. Hell, he wasn't even there that long, he had like two, maybe three beers and left. Would you please tell me what this is all about?"

Sighing, Allen prepared himself for the outrage he knew was coming. "The young lady has accused Mr. Petrovic of sexual assault."

Andre was silent a moment, the anger quickly registering on his face, though, and then he exploded. "That stupid bitch," he spat.

"There's no need for name calling," Allen tried to interject.

"Are you fucking kidding me? That little slut was in my house, in my bed, and then she goes and accuses Peter of fucking rape?"

"Nobody said rape son."

"Rape, assault, what the fuck's the difference? And don't give me a damn lesson," he charged on, before either could speak. "I know there's a fucking difference, but not when it comes to our career's, ones as bad as the other. But I get it now...oh I fucking get it now." He was practically seething he was so mad, pacing behind the chair, he threw his hands up. "That fucking bitch!"

Darla caught that last part, latching onto it. "What do you mean you get it?" she asked, looking to her partner and then back at Andre.

Andre wheeled on her, his face contorted with rage, "What?" he growled.

"You said, 'I get it now,' what did you mean by that?" she inquired more slowly.

"Oh...she uh, she was asking questions about Peter that night."

"Which night?" Allen chimed in, holding his pencil at the ready.

"The night I brought the little bitch home."

"And what kind of questions was she asking?"

"I don't know. Something about whether or not he had a girlfriend. I could tell when she first walked up that she was interested in Peter, most women are, he's got that whole brooding thing going for him, and his eyes, the ladies love his eyes. Whatever, though, he left, and I told her not to worry about him. But she was asking all these questions on the way back to my place. She even asked about his contract," He was still pacing, growing more agitated. "Peter just re-signed at the end of the season, forty-two million I think. This is about his money, isn't it?" He asked, pinning his gaze on Allen. "That little bitch set him up!"

Darla groaned, yeah, this case just went to hell.

Andre kept looking from one to the other, willing either of them to answer his questions. Darla looked pissed, and Allen looked decidedly uncomfortable, but it was he who finally spoke.

"Why do you think she would go after Peter? You say you had sex with her, why not try and go after you?" He asked, the wheels in his own head turning.

Andre shrugged, "I'm a restricted free agent this offseason, we haven't come to deal yet. I might still get traded."

"Did uh, did she know that?" Allen asked, both he and Darla's eyes trained on Andre, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah," he said a minute later. "Yeah, I'd mentioned it. She acted all sympathetic, like she hoped I wasn't traded, she said she was a big fan." He seemed to deflate a little, leaning over the chair and squeezing the top of the cushion. "Fuck. Poor Peter."

Darla cut in then, "so you don't think Peter is capable of something like this?" she asked, trying to remain calm, though inside she was reeling.

"Peter?" He said, shaking his head. "No way. You've met him right?" the question was rhetorical. "There's no way Peter would do that."

"And what makes you so sure? He seemed like a pretty angry guy to me."

"What are you dense? Some little tart accuses him of assault and you think he shouldn't be angry? I'm pissed off and I'm not the one in the hot seat! Of course, he's angry! But God, you'd have to be an idiot if you honestly think Peter is capable of hurting a woman!"

"We don't know him like you do son." Allen informed him, "we're just trying to get your opinion on the matter."

"You want my opinion? Fine, here it is, you got it." Andre said, his voice flat, his eyes cold. "She's lying. Peter grew up in Russia, things are different over there. Women in Russia are taught to be subservient, it's been that way forever, so there would be no need for a guy like Peter to have to be forceful. Not to mention the fact that his mother is some famous ice skater, and he was raised with two sisters, he grew up around women. Nice, loving, women. Peter's shy, it's not an act, believe me. I think he's been with like two girls his whole life. So yeah, I think she's lying. I think she got mad when he didn't show any interest in her, and then she found out how much money he's worth, and she wants a piece of him. Probably figures he'll pay her off to make it all go away. That's my opinion." He said the last with a lot of bite, causing both detectives to flinch.

"I uh, I think that's enough for now," Allen advised, rising, and motioning with his head that Darla did the same.

"Good," Andre said, his tone clipped. "You can see yourselves out." He stalked down the hall, slamming the door behind him.

### Chapter 9

Summer Nights

William, "Bill" Chilson, was not a very big man.

That was Peter's first thought later that evening when he came upon the table at Marlin Monroe's and saw Harmony with her father. They both stood as he arrived, and he took a seat next to Harmony who sat across from her father. Bill probably wasn't much more than 5'7, with a head full of gray hair, and a short beard in a slightly lighter shade. His face was pleasant, though, his eyes inquisitive, and his mind, sharp as a tack.

Peter liked him on sight.

Harmony loved the fact that her father and Peter had hit it off so quickly, and it was so nice to see him smiling and laughing after what had clearly been a very taxing day for him. Her father's good mood seemed to be infectious, pulling Peter in before he ever even had a chance.

And why shouldn't her father be happy? After all, they'd just agreed on a deal that would make them a substantial amount of money!

After talking things over with her lawyer, who actually happened to be a cousin of Bill's, Harmony had asked her father to come into the city and meet her for drinks. They'd ended up staying at her place, draining a bottle of wine together as they looked over the deal and discussed all the pros and cons. To which they agreed it made plenty of sense, and decided selling the land around the building wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.

The contract had stipulated that when the developer chose to build onto their existing structure, after an initial inspection, in which the Chilson's would be responsible for any needed repairs, they would agree to the exterior maintenance of the HomeTown Grocery Mart in the future as well as their own buildings.

In the long run, it would be cheaper for them to buy the property, and maintain the exterior of the grocery store, rather than rent the property from the Chilson's and building onto it. It seemed like a win-win to them. They got to keep their business, put away a large nest egg, make improvements if they wanted to, and in the event that they weren't able to keep their heads above water at any point, they could always sell off the remaining building. In addition to all that, their taxes would be less, and they wouldn't have to worry about the upkeep of either the property or the exterior of the building. What wasn't to like about that?

So they'd called Mr. Maclavoy, and after debating on the price for about fifteen minutes, they were able to squeeze a few thousand more out of the deal, they entered into a verbal agreement. Maclavoy telling them he'd get the new documents drafted up and sent out at his earliest convenience. So tonight, well, tonight was a celebration of sorts. All of their financial troubles were over...for now.

All she had left to do at this point was go over staffing concerns and finish making changes to the products and services they provided. She still had a few items in mind that she was thinking about eliminating. And since her father was satisfied that the company would be in good hands from here on out, he'd already told her she was to be the general manager, effective immediately, he was retiring, so now she just needed to hire herself an assistant manager, and maybe a couple more shift supervisors, or at least one and a lead cashier. That way she could make more time for other things.

Like Peter.

And gosh he looked good tonight.

From the moment he'd entered the restaurant, she couldn't seem to take her eyes off him. He was dressed casually, but the overall effect was still staggering to her senses. Peter had on a fitted t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest, outlining his pectorals and the distinct shape of his abdominals, the color of it was a dark blue almost black really with white lettering, something in Russian she assumed as she couldn't read it herself. And as her eyes traveled the length of his torso, where the shirt tapered to his lean waist, and the light wash of jeans that hung low on them, she felt suddenly hungry, and it had nothing to do with the food.

He finished his look off by carrying a brown leather bombers jacket over one shoulder by a finger, and though he wasn't wearing his aviators, he still reminded Harmony of a pilot, circa Tom Cruise, which made her wonder whether he'd driven his little Honda or had ridden here on the Ducati. Either way, it took all of Harmony's will power to hide her lust for this man from her father. She certainly didn't want to risk embarrassing herself.

Harmony had herself worn a sort of sundress this evening, going for comfort, it was long, went nearly past her ankles, but not so long that she was walking on it, and was the color of the sun. Bright oranges, deep yellows and hints of all the shades in between. It was a swirl of colors, each melting into the next in a line pattern that started at the lightest yellow and darkened into a deep red-orange at the bottom. Thanks to her ample bosom Harmony had no need for straps, her breasts were more than enough to keep the dress up, and as such it was snug at the top, though no cleavage was exposed, and it gracefully flared and billowed once past her chest.

"You look very nice this evening." Peter had whispered to her at one point while her father was ordering his food.

Harmony blushed, her father looked over, raising an eyebrow, but continued to tell the waitress how he wanted his fish to be blackened.

"So Peter," Bill asked once the waitress was gone. "What are your intentions with my daughter?"

Harmony nearly choked on her sweet tea, "dad!" she yelped, drawing a shrug from him.

Peter's face seemed to flush, he looked down for a minute, then turned and faced Harmony, his gaze penetrating hers, the color of his eyes shifting from light to dark. "I do not know sir," he began, turning then to face Bill. "Harmony and I are just getting to know each other. We are, how you say, taking our time."

Sighing inwardly, Harmony relaxed by a few degrees, allowing her stiff shoulders to slump a little, but she still pinned her father with a glare that would have killed him had it been a knife. Daring him to continue down this path.

"Sorry Harm!" he exclaimed, "a dad's got a right to know!"

Peter laughed, Harmony buried her face in her hands, and then lucky for her, the conversation turned to hockey.

Despite their small town lifestyle, Bill was an avid fan of sports, all sports, and followed the Slashers pretty regularly. He'd watched the playoffs, trying on multiple accounts to drag Harmony before the TV as well, and from time to time during the regular season he went to games with one of the ladies from work.

Harmony's brother was a big hockey fan too, though, living in south Florida, he was a Panthers fan. She could remember the last time they were up visiting, Craig's wife Janice had dragged Harmony to that event up at the Slashers' rink, buying Harmony that calendar as a souvenir. Which, now that she thought about it, she probably owed her a thank you for that, she wouldn't have recognized who Peter was had she not owned that calendar, and perhaps their conversation wouldn't have ended the way it had.

Eventually, they started talking about his teammates, and the fact that Dean actually owned one of the condos in the building next door, however, he and his wife were still up north somewhere, due back sometime next week Peter had said. And then her father started asking all sorts of questions about the offseason, and what Peter did to stay in shape.

Most of what they talked about bored Harmony senseless, and she was happy for a distraction once their food arrived. Marlin's, a place named after Marilyn Monroe, being that their mascot with a sailfish in a billowing white dress, was a nice enough place right on the beach. The atmosphere was good, the food even better. Harmony had ordered herself a burger, biting into it with such voraciousness that she blushed when both men looked her way and smirked.

Peter had gone with fish tacos, and her father had gotten the catch of the day. Harmony was the only one eating red meat, and though there was a bit of blood dripping down the side of her wrist, and the men stared at her openly from time to time as they ate their own meals, Harmony didn't give damn.

She was hungry, maybe a little hungrier for Peter at this point than the burger, but to keep herself from running off at the mouth and all but demanding they stop boring her with sports talk, she figured her best bet was to just stuff her face. And it was working, for the moment.

Once they had all finished eating, waving off desert, and Peter having picked up the tab, despite Bill's loud protests, the moment that Harmony had been dreading all evening finally arrived.

"I uh, I take it you'll be leaving with Peter?" Her father asked, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin.

Peter looked at her with a hopeful smile, "You did not drive your own car?"

She shook her head, "no, I came with my dad." Then she turned to her father, "and yeah, I guess if Peter doesn't mind, I'll let him take me home. Probably easier for you to just hop on the interstate then huh?"

"It would be a little easier," They both looked expectantly at Peter, "if Peter doesn't mind."

"No, is fine with me."

"Alright then, I guess I'll leave you two alone, it was great meeting you Peter, I hope to see you again soon," Bill said, extending his hand and shaking Peter's.

"Thank you, sir, it was very nice to meet you too."

And then they were alone.

Harmony looked at the empty plate in front of her, then picked up her sweet tea, draining the rest of the glass as she looked over her shoulder and out at the ocean beyond.

When clearing his throat didn't work to get her attention, Peter put a hand on her thigh, causing Harmony to jump as she was startled by his touch.

"Would you like to go for walk on the beach?" He asked, mischief dancing in his eyes.

She nodded, too stricken to speak. Peter smiled, a slow grin, and standing, held out a hand to her, helping her from her chair and then leading her toward the stairs and down to the warm sandy beach below.

They walked along the coastline for a few minutes, hand in hand, silently. And then, because Harmony was still looking out at the water, she nearly stumbled when Peter stopped abruptly. Turning to face him, she found her arm extended uncomfortably as she noticed that he had plopped down on the sand, sitting at her feet, his legs outstretched, crossed at the ankles, his free hand, the one not holding hers, braced behind him.

"What are you doing?" she laughed, falling to her knees in the sand beside him.

He reached up with the hand that had been holding hers, tucking some loose hair behind her ear, and then skimming his finger along her cheek. "The sand is warm no? Seemed like nice place to sit down."

She nodded, curling her legs under her so that she sat sideways next to him, her knees touching his thigh. He continued to stroke the side of her face, the gentle ocean breeze causing goosebumps to rise on her arms as it floated across them, a direct contrast to the heat of his touch.

"You are cold," Peter said suddenly, noticing the small bumps on her body. He sat up, reached behind him and grabbed his jacket, draping it around her shoulders. "Is this better?"

"Yes," she sighed, as the smell of him surrounded her.

Harmony wondered if she was dreaming. It was all so perfect. The cool night air, the stars twinkling in the sky, the warm sand, the sound of the ocean as the waves lapped against the shore. And Peter. Oh, Peter. He was so ethereal looking. God-like. Yes, like a Norse God. The light of the moon played over his features in a way that made him almost fragile in appearance, though she knew his body was anything but. A powerful machine is what he was. She knew if she touched him now, the muscles under his shirt would ripple and tighten. Flexing beneath her fingertips.

Whoa.

Harmony shivered, though thankfully Peter didn't notice as he looked out at the ocean. Harmony was losing it. Her grip on reality that is. Peter was a man, an ordinary man. It was just the desire coloring her vision, blinding her of rational thought. But what are you waiting for? She asked herself. Hadn't Peter been an open book so far? Telling her anything she wanted to know about himself. Hadn't he passed inspection with her father? Her co-workers even?

Hadn't he passed inspection with Harmony? What about this thing that happened? Are you just going to let that go? She shook her head mentally. No. Of course not. But Peter had asked her to trust him, and thus far, he hadn't given her any reason not to. So why couldn't she? When he was ready, he'd tell her. And really, it couldn't be that big of a deal, not once had it interfered with them this evening. Maybe it was all just some big misunderstanding.

Yeah, probably.

Peter looked back at her then, his eyes as well as his lips smiling at her, and the way the light of the moon shone on his face, the way the glare from the water darkened his gaze as it danced on the surface, riding the waves, it was her answer. In and of itself. She knew then, that the moment was right. More than right.

Without warning, Harmony rose on her knees, bending forward and pressing her lips to his.

Peter was caught off guard for the second time in so many days by Harmony's boldness, however, he didn't hesitate, pulling her into his lap and taking control of the depth of their kiss. Her hands slid under his arms and up his back, pulling at his shirt as he took things deeper. Thrusting his tongue into her mouth, twirling it in circles around hers before capturing it and sucking it into submission.

Harmony moaned, pulling back ever so slightly, their lips parting, his hands roaming her body.

Peter began kissing along her jawline, nipping at the hollow of her throat, as he filled his palms with the weight of her breasts. He had never considered himself a breast man in the past, but the size and softness of her bosoms as he slipped the top of her dress downward, exposing the creamy globes was enough to convince him that he'd never enjoy another pair for as long as he lived.

He kneaded her tender flesh, his mouth slowly making its way down to meet his hands, stopping to nibble on the sensitive skin of one bare shoulder, then finding a rosy peak and pulling it into his mouth, suckling it into a tight little bud.

Harmony arched back, her hands dug into his unruly hair, curling in the soft locks as he continued to lave at her nipples. He moved his mouth quickly from one to the other, careful to give both his utmost attention, and wrapping his arms around her to steady her as she rocked back and forth in his lap, grinding her pelvis into his thickening shaft. She groaned with each passing second as a delicious heat spread through her body.

"Harmony," he murmured against her flesh. "Oh, sweet Harmony."

The sound of his muffled voice, the vibrations of it against her now achingly sensitive skin, she was sure she couldn't handle much more of this. And then his hand wound its way under her dress, slipping between the scrap of silk that provided the last barrier, using his fingers, he parted the moist tender flesh between her legs and began circling the pulsating nub of her desire.

Gasping, Harmony moved her hips rhythmically in accordance with his own motions, increasing the pressure, doubling the pleasure. She had always been aware of her body herself, she knew what made her tick, what got her off, and though Peter was more than adept at what he was doing, she didn't mind helping him along any. It seemed to spur him on as well, his movements faster, more practiced as he played her like a well-tuned instrument.

Panting now as he continued to pleasure her, Peter flattened himself against her, his face pressed into her chest as he braced both of them and slid his other hand under her dress, slipping one then another finger into her, stroking her deep within.

His lips somehow still finding the tip of one nipple, drawing it into the heat of his mouth. The different sensations, one on top of the other, were suddenly becoming too much to bear, Harmony moaned low and deep in her throat before finally exploding.

Hot and wild in his arms, her body wracked by the onslaught of his hands, his fingers pushing her over the first peak as his mouth continued to lavish her breasts in a wickedly delicious heat. It started as a slow burn, then quickly overtook her, like opening a door on a house fire, the intense flare up sucking at the remainder of her control and throwing her into the fiery storm. She came with such an intensity that Peter himself must have felt the pleasure as it hummed through every fiber of her being.

As the pressure abated, their lungs still heaving, trying to catch their collective breaths, Peter slid his hands out from her body, collapsing on the ground, Harmony falling forward on top of him.

Peter laughed then, "we should go back to my place, no?" he asked, wrapping his arms tightly around her as though he feared she might bolt at any minute.

Harmony nodded against his chest, chuckling in between gasping breaths of air.

She felt like a teenager, having allowed Peter to seduce her out on the beach, for anyone walking by to see. What had gotten into her? Peter. Peter had gotten into her. Figuratively as well as literally. And she didn't regret it for a second. But before she got sand in places most uncomfortable, she agreed that they probably should head back to his place.

"What about Viktor?" she asked, pushing to her knees once she was finally able to breathe normally again.

"Viktor will not be there. Is staying with Sandra tonight, he will return to Russia tomorrow."

"So we'll be alone?"

"Da, and Sadie too, Dasha will stay with Sandra while Viktor is away. Is this problem?" He asked, his lashes fluttering in a bashful way.

Harmony reached out and ran a finger down his cheek and along his jawline, trailing it down his neck before pulling away. "After what we just did? No Peter, being alone with you is the only thing I want right now. Take me back to your place."

Peter gulped audibly, grasping her hands in his and pulling them both to their feet.

She looked him straight in the eye, then despite his obvious discomfort with her brashness, Harmony pressed a kiss to the jumping pulse that beat in his neck, and whispered in his ear, "Peter, I want you to take me home with you, take me home and make love to me."

He needed no further encouragement from her, practically dragging her down the beach and through the parking lot where he helped her fasten his helmet on her head and started the motorcycle before giving her his hand to guide her onto the back of the bike behind him.

The ride up the coastline and down the interstate toward town was fast. Peter was a very practiced motorcyclist in what limited amount of time he had owned the Ducati. He made her feel safe, never driving too fast, and slowing over the hills and around the curves. Always on the alert for dangers, like drunk drivers and deer. She was precious cargo as far as he was concerned, and he wasn't about to let anything happen to her.

At least not yet.

After the erotic thoughts she had put into his head with her lips pressed to his neck and her throaty whisper in his ear, he decided once they were back at his place, he would do all kinds of things to her. Things she would very much enjoy. And with her large breasts flattened against his back, her body molded against his as they whipped through the streets of Savannah, his blood pressure continued to rise. He wanted Harmony more than he had ever wanted a woman before. As much as any man could want a woman for that matter.

Everything she was, bold, beautiful, fearless, he craved her as much as his body craved fuel during an exciting game of hockey. He wanted to feel her in his arms, wanted her to melt against him, become a part of him. And he wanted to know every inch of her body, discover each pleasure point, push her beyond the boundaries of the flesh, to the place where their souls could mate. Peter was in love with her.

He did not dare deny that knowledge. He had in fact known from the moment he looked into those exotic violet-blue eyes of hers, that she was meant for him. If only he knew how to tell her, to make her understand. He couldn't though. Especially not now. So he would take would he could get, show her instead, for surely if he loved her just the right way, she would realize just how deep his feelings ran. He only hoped that the nightmare he was in, would soon be over.

Despite this time with Harmony, his current predicament was never far from his thoughts. He knew he'd have to face it, and her at some point, tell her what had happened, but not tonight. Not now. No. He was going to love her, to touch her, caress her, and show her a pleasure so wonderful, that it would surely spoil her for anyone else.

Pulling into the garage, the door closing behind them, Peter helped her off the bike, quickly and gently stripping the helmet off of her head and placing it on a shelf above a small deep freezer, then he turned back to Harmony, placing his hands underneath her legs and lifting her into his arms.

Harmony gasped at first, his movements swift and taking her by surprise, but as he wound his way through the house, and up the stairs, without a bit of awkwardness, she threw her head back and laughed. She'd never been carried this way before....it was quite....romantic.

Peter looked down into her face, smiling as he climbed the final three steps and used one hand to open the door. He was enjoying this as much as she was.

Sadie's head lifted from her paws upon seeing them, her tail wagging, but she made no indication of moving from her comfortable perch on the bed.

Shaking his head then, Peter was begrudgingly forced to put Harmony on her feet, setting her upright. He pointed a finger at Sadie and then thrust it downward. Obediently, Sadie followed his silent command, hopping onto the floor and leaving the room. Peter watched as she slowly lumbered down the stairs and made herself comfortable on the couch, then he shut the door.

When Peter turned back to Harmony, who stood to the side of the big bed, his eyes drank in the sight of her. From her long tousled hair that shone like fire in the lamp light, to her dark eyes, twinkling with mischief. It was when his eyes traveled south of her ample bosoms that Harmony's brash nature could be contained no longer.

Throwing caution to the wind, Harmony reached for the top of her dress, slowly sliding it over her breasts and letting it pool in a puddle of fabric at her bare feet, having had kicked off her sandals the moment he'd set her down. Peter's eyes widened, his pupils expanded nearly absorbing his irises completely. The small sliver of blue remaining, so intense it reminded Harmony of a solar eclipse.

Peter stood there, staring at her, committing her body to memory. Every inch of alabaster skin was on display, and though her eyes were imploring him, begging him to have his way with her, he could do little more than watch her shiver as the intensity of his gaze roamed over her again and again.

When Harmony could stand no more, realizing she would have to make the first move, though, hadn't she done that already by getting naked? She closed the distance between them, stroked a finger down his cheek, and along the length of his chest. Peter groaned, his arms going around her then, his mouth all but swallowing hers as he attacked her lips, the kiss quickly spiraling out of control.

Peter fumbled between them, pulling at the snap of his jeans, tugging them down his body, desperately trying to free his throbbing manhood. They broke apart then, Harmony reaching her hands under the light cotton of his shirt and pulling it over his head, his hair, already mussed up from the wind since he'd given her his only helmet, slid seemingly back into place as the shirt was pulled away. Unable to resist, she dug her fingers into his shaggy hair, pulling his mouth back down to hers.

In one swift movement, their lips still tangled in a fevered embrace, Peter lifted Harmony's writhing body, placing her gently on the bed, and coming down on top of her, settling himself between her legs as he parted them. He was still however clad in a pair of boxers, and as Harmony grabbed at the last barrier between them, he went for her hands, pushing them away and breaking the kiss to give her both a devastatingly handsome and mischievous grin.

Peter felt like he'd been waiting forever for a moment like this, a woman like Harmony, and now that he had her at his disposal, he wasn't going to let anything get in the way of enjoying all that she had to offer.

He took his time, kissing her again, and more thoroughly than she'd ever been kissed before. His tongue dancing circles around hers, his lips soft and full, the heat of his mouth pressed against hers, it was like a whirlwind of sensation! Harmony's head a jumble of thoughts and emotions, her desire urging her to push him for more.

And he gave it.

Peter nibbled on her lower lip, breaking contact and feathering kisses along her cheeks and jawline, sucking at her earlobes, pressing his lips to the hollow of her throat and flicking his tongue against her silken flesh. All the while his hands roamed the rest of her body. Kneading her soft full breasts, and playing with her delicate nipples, rolling them between his fingers into tight peaks.

As his lips wound their way down her torso, pulling one rosy nipple into his mouth and sucking at it hungrily, his hands continued to travel south, reaching between their bodies and stroking her swollen nub. Harmony arched into him, his hands, his mouth, the weight of his body on hers, the feel of his hot slick skin, and his taut muscles rippling underneath her fingertips, it was nearly her undoing.

But it wasn't until Peter slid further down her body, slipping his hands beneath her buttocks for leverage and pressing his mouth to the delicate part of her body that he had been stroking only moments ago, that she began climaxing despite her best efforts to hold on.

She exploded like a minefield, the orgasm one burst of pleasure after the next as Peter continued to lave and flick at the sensitive little bud, his fingers delving into her moist heat, extending her pleasure as he played her body like a fiddle. His fingers twisting and sliding inside of her.

As she crested the peak and the orgasm started subsiding, Peter made his move. Before her brain had time to process it all, he moved agilely up her body, had somehow disposed of his boxers and slipped on a condom without her notice, and with one quick thrust, he was inside her, filling her and stretching her with his glorious heat. His shaft, thick and throbbing as he began to move within her, lifting her legs to his shoulder, he pounded against her, panting and grunting to the rhythm of their bodies.

Harmony moaned, pressing her back further into the mattress, arching her body into him, moving closer to the edge of destruction faster than she had ever thought possible. Peter twisted her into a pretzel, moving her legs this way and that, contorting both of them as he found the right spot, sent her soaring closer to the storm that began to rage within her.

Each powerful thrust pushing her into the path of the tornado of ecstasy swirling around them. With a shudder and a groan, the sound more like a growl, fierce and primal, Peter buried himself in her, pushing as deeply as he could, and emptying into her warmth. And with those last few thrusts, Harmony's body tightened around him, convulsing and milking him as she erupted into her own inferno of rapture and bliss. A simultaneous explosion of fireworks, they melted into each other, colors bursting and mixing in the heat of the storm.

Peter lay there afterward, long into the night, watching Harmony's shuttered expression as she slept soundly enfolded in his strong arms, her lashes dark against her pale cheeks, fluttering every so often. He wondered what she was dreaming about. He hoped it was him she thought of as she dreamt.

And as he watched her, and how angelic she appeared in slumber, he was sure glad that Viktor had decided to go to Sandra's after all, as Harmony had been quite vocal during their lovemaking. With all that had happened, Viktor had told him he would put off going home to Russia if Peter needed him, but Peter insisted that he go. He didn't want to be the reason that Viktor wasn't able to spend some time with his daughter. Viktor had been married once, and though they had created a beautiful little girl together, their love was not the lasting kind.

His ex was a good mother, though, and bore no ill feelings towards the father of her child. Viktor often skyped with his daughter, and had even flown her and her mother out a couple of times, but he had intended on going to back Russia for nearly a month, to spend as much time with his little imp as he could. So Peter had made it clear that Viktor was not needed here. And when Harmony had invited him out to dinner, Viktor decided that Peter was right, he was a big boy, and didn't need a keeper.

Harmony began to stir a little, snuggling closer to Peter and throwing one leg over his, so he kissed the top of her head, smoothing away the hair that fell into her face. She was asleep again within seconds. Having her nearly molded to him this way, Peter couldn't imagine anything better, and finally fell asleep himself.

### Chapter 10

Meeting with the DA

The next morning hadn't been awkward in the least. Harmony was sure it would have been, what with the way she had carried on during the night, as they had made love to each other over and over before finally passing out from the sheer exhaustion of it all. Peter, despite the frantic desire to consume her, had been gentle every time. Even as he pressed her into this position or that, he was careful not to hurt her, giving her a pleasure she had surely not known before.

She wondered how someone so seemingly shy could be so experienced in matters of the bedroom, and was almost tempted to ask him how many lovers he'd had in the past. Was it just an act? No. She didn't think so. Peter blossomed between the sheets, taking on the position of lover most seriously, but whenever he looked down at her, whenever she met his icy gaze, heat would steal into his cheeks. His shyness, however, didn't prevent him from being the tentative lover that he was, though. And his blushing only endeared him to her further.

They'd made love to each other one more time that morning, Peter loving her as thoroughly as he had during the night, if not more so, almost as though he feared he'd never have a taste of her again after today. They showered together quickly afterward, and hopping onto the back of his Bike, he took her out to breakfast, and then to her place, where she invited him in for a quick tour.

It wasn't much, her place, just a small condo in a little neighborhood she loved. The place was decorated nice enough, the kitchen updated, the bathrooms with new fixtures, and the furniture comfortable. Somewhere around twelve hundred square feet, it was a two bed two bath, and she loved it there. Lupus had greeted him excitedly, obviously remembering him from the dog park, and after lavishing the dog with belly scratches, they got on with the short tour.

Harmony offered him something to drink, but standing in the living room, Lupus leaning heavily against his legs as he rubbed the sweet spot behind the big dog's ears, Peter shook his head.

"I need to be going. I am to meet with some people this morning."

And there it was. The thing that had been hanging silently between them all night.

Though neither of them had wanted to acknowledge it, it didn't change the fact that there was something they needed to talk about.

"The police?" Harmony asked, though honestly, she didn't want to know if she was right in her assumption.

Peter nodded. "I am very sorry Harmony; I wish I could tell you more."

"Why can't you?"

"I do not think you would understand." He thought about it for a moment, though, "It is, very complicated matter."

"Are you in trouble Peter?" Harmony dared to ask.

"I do not think so." He leaned forward then, kissed her lightly on the forehead. "I must go now. May I call you later?"

"I'm closing tonight. Call me in the morning."

He nodded, a sad smile forming on his lips.

She walked with Peter to the door, opening it for him and watching as he walked down her driveway and slid onto the back of the Ducati. With a last smile in her direction, one she assumed was meant to put her at ease, though it did nothing to that effect, he pulled his helmet on and started the bike, carefully backing out of the drive and cruising down the road.

What are you hiding Peter? She silently asked herself.

Peter met with Jean, Detective Allen, Simms was thankfully absent, and the district attorney, later that morning in Erin Paulino's office, where they informed him, that pending the results of the rape kit, they would decide whether or not to pursue charges against him.

The DA asked that Peter put off his upcoming travel plans to Russia, at least until the forensics came back, which given the nature of the case and those involved, he had a rush put on them, though he was told it would still likely be a couple of weeks yet. And with that, the DA, a formidable looking man in his early fifties, with obvious Italian roots, excused himself.

Allen assured Peter that all would continue to be kept quiet on his end. Aside from his partner and the DA, the sheriff was the only other one in the loop. No one else knew of the claim against Peter, only that a case existed in which a girl was claiming to be assaulted by a young man.

He was then very frank with Peter, telling him that in all likelihood the DA would decline to press charges at all, unless of course, the results of the rape kit showed something definitive. After all that had happened in the past year, cases like these were being prosecuted less and less.

Without definitive proof, it was hard to tell just who the victim was, and any DA worth his salt was reluctant to trot out a case that could so easily go either way. Especially one like this, when the Defense Attorney would surely make mincemeat out of the prosecution's case, being as it was riddled with holes and reasonable doubt.

Though he didn't disclose to Peter the nature of his second interview with the claimant and her witness, nor that of his interview with Andre Lepowski for that matter, Allen had serious doubts about the young lady's accusation. Confronted with her encounter with Lepowski, and the damning things they had talked about, she had stuttered, stumbling all over herself as she backtracked and tried to make excuses.

She all but claimed being raped by Andre, saying the scoundrel had seduced her. But Allen wasn't buying it. Though he had a pretty good poker face if he did say so himself.

Alone with the witness, Cassie, afterward, an even clearer picture began to form. The friend's story changed in subtle ways, and at the mention of a grand jury and the possibility of an indictment, if she lied, the young woman had paled completely and almost fainted. He'd left her then, having given her something to think over.

Allen didn't tell Peter any of this of course, in the event that something had happened, he wouldn't put too many ideas in the young man's head, but he did his best to comfort him, as Peter seemed genuinely upset by the entire situation. And why shouldn't he be? His career, his entire life was on the line here. He should just be glad that DNA testing existed and they no longer just took women at their word.

He informed Peter that his partner was meeting with the girl and the DA as they spoke, that was why the DA had left when he did, and that they would tell her pretty much the same thing, it all came down to the rape kit.

Peter felt a little less dire as the detective left. As though he could breathe again, just slightly. His lawyer did her best to assure him that the results would absolve him. DNA didn't lie after all. She did, however, warn him that this wasn't likely to go away. Even if the DA declined pressing charges, the woman could still attempt to sue him.

Of course, that did nothing to ease the tension he was already feeling. On top of it all, he had to meet with the head of the Slashers organization, and Bettman was sure to be there as well. The NHL was surely growing tired of these accusations, Peter only hoped they didn't choose to make an example out of him.

Another Stanley Cup tainted.

Jean would be there for him, though; she had told him as much. Holding his hand the entire time if he'd like is what she said. Peter thanked her for it, and left the office.

With so much negativity on his mind, Peter headed for the practice rink, where he met up with Andre and Donovan, as well as a couple of the other guys still hanging around town, and together they took to the ice. Peter shot one puck after another into the net, pelting them with such force and accuracy he didn't miss even one. Denver Collins, their backup goalie, who had, himself, just flown in from Canada, never even had a chance.

Having taken notice of his foul mood, and in no better ones themselves, Donovan and Andre drew him aside once everyone had hit the showers and dressed afterward.

"You alright Peter?" Andre asked, his hand resting on Peter's shoulder.

"What you think?" Peter sighed, taking a seat on the bench in the center of the locker room.

Andre and Donovan exchanged glances. "I think I'd like to ring that little bitch's neck." Andre finally said, his voice a low growl.

Donovan nodded in agreement. "Is there anything we can do for you, Pete?" He asked.

Peter shook his head.

They both hated to see their friend this way. Andre and Peter had been pretty close the past two years, and it really got to him, despite Peter's shyness with the women, he wasn't usually so quiet with his friends. Even if he didn't understand everything they were saying, he had no trouble breaking in on a conversation. So to see him so sullen, it made Andre want to take that little slut by the hair and give her a good shaking.

Anger welling up in him, Andre lashed out, kicking a trash can, nearly sending it flying across the room. "Fucking bitch." He spat.

Peter looked at him and smiled, Andre often showed just how much maturing he still needed to do, and it never ceased to amuse him. That's why Andre was such a good instigator out on the ice, he never backed down from a challenge or a fight.

Peter broke into a laugh, the other two men following suit, and after a time, when their anger had somewhat dissipated Donovan spoke again.

"I uh, I'm having a party tomorrow night." He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure if this was the right time or not, but hoping it might be just what they all needed to somehow forget about this mess, at least for the time being, since there was nothing any of them could do until the forensics came in. "Just a casual barbecue, a housewarming party kind of thing. Dean and Abby get in tonight, so I figured the timing was good."

Peter was nodding, already accepting before he was even asked. "Is okay if I bring a date?" He cut in.

Donovan smiled, "Of course man. This wouldn't happen to be the Harmony I keep hearing so much about would it?"

Blushing, Peter nodded again, "Da," he confirmed.

"Alright, yeah, bring her. I'm sure Lacy and Abby are both dying to meet her. Everyone who's in town will be there, just bring some beer, I'll provide everything else. It'll be fun." Donovan excused himself then, slapping Peter a high five and waving to Andre, who was still picking up the trash he knocked all over the place.

After righting the trash can and throwing the last piece of refuse into it, Andre sat beside his friend, smacking him on the back, "we're going to get through this Pete." He assured him, "after what I told those two detectives, no way they believe that little bitch."

"And what did you say to them?"

"The truth. She set you up man." Andre's hands tightened into fists, every time he thought about that stupid girl and her lies, he wanted to pound something. Hard. "Once that kit comes back and proves you're innocent, you should sue that stupid little bitch," he growled.

"Net," Peter said, shaking his head. "I just want it to all go away."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean. I'm really sorry she's putting you through this Pete." He squeezed Peter's shoulder, getting to his feet. "If there's anything I can do for you, just let me know." He said, headed for the door.

"You have done enough already by speaking to the police."

"Yeah, I guess. It just doesn't feel like enough." Andre shrugged. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

Peter sat for a moment longer, thankful for his friends. Not one person so far had asked him if he had or had not done what he was being accused of. They were so sure of Peter, he only wished Harmony would act in the same manner once he finally told her.

Amanda Orsini was pissed. No, make that livid. The female detective, Simms, and some old guy, who'd introduced himself as the district attorney, had just come and talked to her.

She'd been told that based on the evidence so far, which was purely circumstantial at this point, they would not be pursuing charges. The DA said that if the results of the rape kit turned up definitive proof to substantiate her claim, they would take it to the Grand Jury, but otherwise, he just didn't see the point of putting her through a trial when the outcome was so risky.

Yeah, right. Because he cared about her and her welfare. He probably just didn't want to lose, couldn't risk tarnishing his spotless record so far. She'd been warned about this. Her cousin was a tax attorney, and she'd just talked to her about it this morning. Her cousin had given her the heads up on the good ole boy DA, he was a stickler for turning down cases he couldn't win. Or taking them to the Grand Jury so that the heat didn't fall on him when an indictment wasn't made.

Of course, she hadn't told her cousin what was going on, not fully anyway, just that a friend of hers had been assaulted, but that the evidence in the case was a bit mucked up. After she had been warned about the DA's antics, her cousin had said she should just skip a trial and play it all out in front of a civil judge, they would probably be more sympathetic to her friend's plight and the burden of proof was a lot less.

Not to mention the fact that if she went to trial and lost, it would be that much harder to pursue monetary damages later on.

Amanda would have given that a lot more thought, because she wanted to avoid a courtroom at all costs, but once the DA opened his stupid mouth and told her he wasn't pressing charges without a smoking gun so to speak, she thought differently. Even that damn female cop was looking at her suspiciously now. Since that interview yesterday, when she'd had to admit to sleeping with Andre, the woman had pretty much stopped believing her, having completely lost her sympathetic edge. Now she just looked like some slut out for a payday.

Which she was. But they weren't supposed to think that.

Amanda all but kicked the cop and the DA out on their asses, letting them both know how pissed off she was, and threatening to sue the city for their negligence. Not that she thought she had a case, but let them chew on that for a while. After which, she immediately got online and found herself a list of the best attorneys in town. She'd have to find herself one that didn't collect unless she won her case, but to hell with it, she was going to sue the pants off of Peter.

It took her about an hour, but she finally found a lawyer, and that out of the way, she turned her attention to the local media outlets. Come Monday morning, she wanted this all over the news. The paper, social media, whatever it took. Amanda knew there was no better place to convict a person than in the court of public opinion.

She'd ruin him yet.

Despite the unspoken words between them earlier, Harmony had been floating on cloud nine all day. Her stomach fluttered every time she thought of Peter, or of the night they had shared together. Thankfully, though, she was good at multitasking, because she had a lot to do.

With a call from Maclavoy's office, informing her that the papers were drawn up and would be sitting at her lawyer's office on Monday morning, waiting to be signed, Harmony had gotten her butt in gear, getting things done at work left and right.

She'd promoted one of her current shift supervisors to Assistant Manager, then promoted Kate to shift supervisor, and one of the part-time cashiers into a full time lead position. She'd still have to hire a couple of extra employees, but at least all of the internal stuff was done.

Peter called her later that night when she had gotten home, apologizing for not waiting until the morning, but once he invited her to a cookout at his teammate's house the next night, letting on how much he had missed her today, she quickly forgave him. Harmony found that thickly accented voice hard to resist, even if she was dead on her feet.

Peter was certainly a special kind of guy. They'd only known each other for a couple of weeks now, but she felt like she knew all there was to know about him.

Well, maybe not everything.

Harmony couldn't contemplate what it was that he was so reluctant to talk to her about. She ran her conversation with the police over and over in her head, tossing it around at different angles, but nothing clicked.

How had he seemed? Was he dressed weird? What? None of that made sense.

She needed to let it go. It must not be as serious as it seemed, for surely he would have told her otherwise. No. Peter had asked her to trust him, and she would. Tomorrow they would go to this Barbecue at Donovan's new home, she'd meet some members of the Slasher's team, their wives, and girlfriends, and she'd have a good time. And that was that.

### Chapter 11

Reprieve

With his meeting with the NHL commissioner put off until Monday, Peter decided to forget about things for now. He let Sadie out, fed her, and once she arrived, Harmony and Peter set off to Donovan's place.

It was a nice area. Just outside of Savannah in a subdivision called Wilmington Island, Donovan and Lacy had bought a nice five bedroom three bathroom house. Of course, Peter had no idea what they needed all that space for, but he figured since Donovan already owned two other homes, he knew what he was doing. The house was a two story colonial with an expansive front porch, and immaculate landscaping.

Having gone with Donovan a couple of times to his parent's place in Thunder Bay, Canada, Peter knew his mother had a green thumb, and obviously, Donovan had inherited it. The flowers and shrubbery around the house were beautiful, and Donovan had bragged about doing all the gardening himself during practice, he'd, in fact, ripped up all the old stuff as soon as they bought the place, so Peter knew this was his handy work.

As he knocked on the door, Harmony pressed to his side, though nervous she was not, because it wasn't in her nature to be nervous when meeting new people, they were quickly greeted by Donovan himself, and a large black dog that was supposedly still a puppy as it bounded through the foyer and jumped at them repeatedly.

Lacy came rushing after it, "Moose!" she yelled. "Knock it off, you bonehead!" Then she turned her attention on Peter and Harmony, her green eyes alight with laughter. "Sorry about that, he's still a puppy."

Donovan laughed, looping an arm around her and pushing Moose back with his foot. "Don't believe that garbage, Moose is almost a year old, he just doesn't listen. Or rather, he has selective hearing... like someone else I know." Donovan joked, looking sweetly at Lacy and jarring her within his embrace.

Lacy slapped him in the chest, huffed indignantly and then motioned for Peter and Harmony to come in. "Let's get inside, it's hot out here. Come on," she said, "We'll show you around."

Once inside, introductions were quickly made, the women hugging, and the men staring sheepishly at one another, and then Donovan gave them a little tour, Lacy wandering off in the direction of the kitchen with Moose hot on her heels.

Of the five bedrooms, the master was the only one on the ground floor, and it was quite large. The bed a California King, the rest of the furniture likely antiques as Donovan's mother had also passed on to her son a keen eye for such things. And the bathroom was completely dismantled. They were told that renovations were under way one bathroom at a time, the powder room off the living room already complete, they were installing new vanities in the master, a walk in shower and a soaker tub, as well as a separate closet for the toilet, complete with a TV built into the door.

Donovan and Peter exchanging glances at the mention of the TV, he had a TV built into both of the bathroom doors of his condo, and confessed that it was like pulling teeth to get Lacy to agree to a TV in at least the master, though she flat out turned the idea down for the remaining two and a half.

The rest of the downstairs comprised of a gourmet kitchen, the selling point of the house with its cherry cabinets and uniquely colored granite in addition to top of the line appliances. There was a formal dining room and a small eating alcove opposite the dining room on the other side of the kitchen, as well as a large living room and a sunroom that led to the open lanai and pool beyond.

Upstairs the four bedrooms were turned into a guest room, a workout room, a home office slash library, and a media room. Donovan, of course, having to have room for all his big screen TV's and vending machines.

The tour complete, they headed outside to join the rest of the team and their family members on the lanai, that was, of course, complete with an outdoor kitchen, a large resort style pool, and an over-sized fenced yard. Donovan said they had a fire pit out back as well, and planned on roasting some s'mores a little later on.

It was the perfect atmosphere in which to relax and forget about all his troubles for a while. And with Harmony at his side, forget he did.

The evening was more than wonderful, seeing all of his friends, introducing Harmony to all his teammates and their significant others, he couldn't have planned for things to go better than they had. Everyone loved Harmony, she was the belle of the ball so to speak. Regaling the ladies with the story of how they met, listening as Abby gushed about Dean and how he had romanced her, and Lacy going on about Donovan's persistence up until she finally gave in and fell in love.

And they were the perfect women to help Peter in his conquest. Abby had to decide between a man she had known for years, and a man she had just met. She hadn't known whether or not she could trust Dean and his lifestyle, or if for that matter, if she could trust herself, after all, she was leaving one relationship for another.

But in the end, she'd chosen Dean, they had married this past March, and were actually set to take a cruise for their honeymoon in a couple of days. They were also expecting a child! Lucky guy, Peter had thought to himself.

And then there was Donovan. He and Lacy had nothing short of a rough start, what with the accident that had brought him into the ER and put him directly in Lacy's path. But Lacy was a skeptic if ever there was one. She'd had a pretty tough childhood, her parent's relationship falling apart before her eyes as she found out her father, a truck driver had an entire second family stashed away in another state.

Despite that, she'd still managed to put herself out there, having her heart ripped out yet again by a cheating boyfriend in high school. One that took cheating to whole new levels as he slept his way through most of the female population.

It was no wonder that it had taken Donovan several attempts just to get Lacy to go out with him, how he had managed to earn her trust and win her heart still amazed Peter. But he had, they'd bought a house together, and had taken tonight to announce that they were getting married next year, sometime in the spring.

"How'd you manage that one Donny?" Dean had asked.

"Yeah, I thought she was allergic to matrimony!" Andre joked.

Lacy sneered, "ha ha, very funny guys..."

There were congratulations all around.

Then Dean asked, "so I hear you've taken a new job too?"

Donovan looped his arm around Lacy at that point, they exchanged smiles and she looked back toward the group as Donovan took the liberty of answering for her. "Yup, she's giving her resignation at the hospital in a couple of weeks. You're looking at the newest member of the Slashers medical team!" He beamed.

"Welcome to the team." Dean told her, holding his beer in up and tipping it towards her, "congratulations!" with another round of cheers, the sounds of clinking glasses echoed in the backyard.

Yeah, it was a great night for everyone, and Peter was thrilled to be a part of it. Being around his teammates, and sharing in their individual joys, was exactly what he needed to help him clear his mind. And thankfully, no one had come out and asked him at any point about what was going on. Either they didn't know, or they respected him enough not to ruin his evening.

As Harmony was eventually sucked into the fray, the women carting her off to talk to her about God only knew what, she gave Peter a soft smile, looking over her shoulder as Lacy and Abby, who were becoming fast friends, pulled her into their confidences, and into the house.

Dean approached him then.

"I heard what happened." He said, putting a steady hand on Peter's shoulder. "How are you holding up Pete?"

Peter nodded, "I am okay." Though he wasn't. Not by a long shot.

He didn't want to ruin this night for anybody, though, especially Dean or Donovan in all their happiness as their lives moved forward, their families growing.

Dean wasn't buying it, though. "I can't imagine what I would do if this had happened to me," he said, looking off in the distance. "You'll let me know if there's anything I can do for you, right?" He turned and looked at Peter, his hand on his shoulder again, his green eyes gentle but serious.

"You can go and be happy with family," Peter said, his tone belying the pain he felt.

Snorting, Dean dropped his hand from Peter's shoulder, and shook his head, "why did it have to be you, Peter? Why did she have to set her cap for you?"

Peter shrugged, and before either of them could say something more, Harmony's laughter was heard from across the lawn. Both men looked in the direction of the commotion, Harmony was headed their way, Abby and Lacy behind her, still holding her attention as the three of them carried on, probably talking about the men, but really it was anyone's guess.

Dean noticed the way Peter's eyes, usually so cold and colorless seemed to heat and darken as he caught site of Harmony, he wondered if Peter had told her about what was going on. But figured he probably hadn't. Then he sent up a silent little prayer for his friend. Peter was going to need all the luck in the universe to come out of this one unscathed.

He'd seen men before, men not nearly as pure in heart as Peter, go through similar situations, and not one of them were the same afterward. Damn it all to hell. When this got out, and he didn't delude himself into thinking it wouldn't, Peter was going to be destroyed. Dean could only ask that God showed mercy on him, and helped him pick up the pieces quickly.

If this had happened to him, or Donny, they would've been better equipped to handle it, but Peter, not knowing how these things worked, was going to have a tough time. And that made Dean angry, he could do little more than offer his support at the moment, which also made him feel helpless.

And if he felt all of this, he could only imagine how Peter was feeling.

Right about now, as Peter watched Harmony walk towards him, her face alight in laughter, and crinkling at the eyes, eyes that sparkled in the lamplight, all Peter was feeling was an overwhelming urge to snatch her up and whisk her away from here. He desperately wanted to take her someplace more private, and make love to her well into the night.

But there were beers to drink, people to talk to, and food to eat.

Hours later, Peter helped Harmony onto the back of his bike, placing the helmet he had bought just for her over her head and strapping it down tight.

The ride back to his place was peaceful, the starlit night around them, the heady scent of flowers in full bloom. It was quite romantic.

And when they made it back to Peter's, letting the dog out, and then back in a few moments later, Harmony stood, leaning against one wall in the kitchen, watching as Peter and Sadie danced around each other. There was such love in his eyes as he played her with, and though she knew by the way he had touched her on the ride home, the way his fingers dug into her jean clad flesh, that he had much more on his mind than just playing with the dog, he still made sure Sadie knew she was loved.

It touched her in a way she couldn't possibly explain. It made her think about what an amazing father Peter would make one day. Of course, once that thought crossed her mind, she could visualize it, almost clearly. She could see herself sitting on the couch, and Peter rolling around on the floor, both of their dogs barking and rough housing as Peter and his child, their child, played together on the floor.

Their child. Gosh, when had this happened? When had she fallen so helplessly in love with him? When you saw him smile at you back at Donovan's place. Her mind told her. Yes, that was it. She had been talking to Abby and Lacy both when she told them about Peter's passionate love making.

She hadn't meant to tell them, it was something only they should share really, but she didn't like the way they talked about Peter. Oh, she knew it was all in good fun. Perhaps they were even trying to goad her on purpose, figure out just how "into" him she was. And it worked. She'd spilled her guts, told them everything. Everything short of her loving him. Which she hadn't figured out, not until that moment anyhow.

Laughing, she'd walked out the door, searching for Peter, and when their eyes clashed, the smile on his face, the way his gaze darkened, she knew her heart was lost.

Peter tossed Sadie a treat and told her to stay once she jumped up on the couch to chew it. Then he crossed the room to Harmony, who straightened away from the wall, going into his arms with an ease of familiarity as he approached.

His mouth sought hers instantly, his kiss unlike any before. She could feel his need, taste his longing. Had it only been the other day that they had made love for the first time? It felt like an eternity with the way that he was kissing her now. As though she'd been gone forever, and his patience was wearing thin.

He pulled her further into his arms, Harmony moaned into his mouth, the sound causing him to break away, gasping for air. Peter's body solid against hers, his erection prodding at her desperately. Without warning, he lifted her off her feet, taking the stairs two at a time and barging into the bedroom.

Laughing, Harmony realized she could get used to this, being seduced and carried away. She felt like a princess, and he her Russian Prince. Her Adonis.

Peter didn't waste another minute, he had her on the bed and stripped naked in seconds, using one hand to slip on a condom and the other to part her knees and settle himself between her legs.

The moment he was inside her, Harmony arched her back to meet him, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him deeper. Peter groaned, the feel of her as she surrounded him, enveloping his body and soul, it was almost his undoing. But he wasn't nearly ready enough to give in just now.

Peter began to move inside her, his thick shaft rubbing in all the right places. His mouth came down upon hers, he drank his fill of her, laid kisses on her face and neck. Nibbled on her ears, suckled at her breasts. His hands roamed her body, then assisted in rotating her legs this way and that. Taking his penetration to new levels, her pleasure to new heights.

She wondered if it would always be this way. She hoped he'd stick around long enough for her to find out. Riding the waves of pleasure, their senses exploding as the ocean of ecstasy crashed upon them, they came together.

And Harmony could have sworn their souls had mated as well.

### Chapter 12

The Fallout

Harmony woke alone the next morning. The smell of coffee wafting up to greet her. Peter had left the bedroom door open, and the scent of breakfast was near to assaulting her nose as well. She made her way into the bathroom, grabbing her purse off the chair in the corner of the room that she had tossed it on that night, and pulled out her little travel supplies making quick use of them and dressing just as fast.

Peter was at the stove, he smiled as she came into view. "Morning," he said, turning back to expertly flip a pancake.

"Mmm...smells good," Harmony commented, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.

Peter slid a cup of coffee in her direction, "Breakfast in a couple of minutes."

She nodded, put some cream and sugar in her mug, then taking a sip reached for the paper that sat on the counter. Flipping through the first couple of pages, Harmony thought to herself how wonderful this was. Sitting here with Peter, enjoying coffee and reading the paper as he cooked her breakfast. It was all so... domestic. She smiled, full of love and warmth.

And then her world crashed down around her.

Harmony made a little choking sound as she stared down at the paper in horror.

"What it is?" Peter asked, coming around the counter to her.

"What is this Peter?" She demanded, flinching when he tried to touch her.

Peter looked down at the paper, where her finger pointed to the article in question, and closed his eyes. A sigh escaped him.

"So it's true?" She accused, standing and pushing away from the counter, backing out of Peter's reach as his hands came towards her. "This is what you've been hiding from me? Isn't it?"

"Yes. I mean no." Peter shook his head violently. The smell of burning pancakes reaching them. "Is not true Harmony," he said, rushing back around the counter and turning off the stove. "I never touch that girl."

Harmony was already grabbing for her purse, ready to bolt for the door. Sadie whined from the couch in the living room, obviously sensing the tension between them.

"It is not true," he said again, walking around the counter to her once more.

Harmony backed up a step. "Don't touch me," she warned.

Peter stopped, dropping his hands and looking at her with a sullen expression. His eyes pleading, begging her to believe him. "Harmony."

She shook her head, "I can't believe this....I...I trusted you!" she spat, taking another step towards the door.

"Please. Do not go. Let me to explain." He begged, a hand reaching out as though she were still right in front of him, though she felt more like miles away.

"Explain? How could you possibly explain this Peter? You lied to me."

"I did not lie," he corrected, his voice hitching up a notch. "I only say I could not tell you. This is a matter for the police."

"A matter for the police," she let his words roll around in her head for a minute. "Well," she said, her tone dark and angry. "Looks like the police aren't doing their job are they?"

Peter was shocked, taken aback by her statement, the coldness of her voice. "You believe this?" He said, reaching for the paper and shaking it in her face. "You would assume this is true? With not even talking to me? Not giving me the chance to defend myself?"

Harmony shook her head, close to tears now. "I don't know what to believe Peter!" she shouted, reaching for the door knob. "Just leave me alone. I need to think."

Throwing the paper on the floor, Peter grabbed a hold of the door before she could slam it shut, following her outside.

Harmony whirled on him then, "I mean it!" she yelled, "stay away from me."

Peter stopped, frozen by the heat in her eyes, there was such anger there, and so much pain as well. "Harmony," he said, his voice a near whisper.

"No.," she said sternly, "I can't do this right now. I need time. So please..." her voice dropped, the anger subsided, replaced by what he was sure was a subtle defeated feeling, what he felt himself. "Just give me some time."

Peter stood there long after she was gone. He watched her car disappear from view, then shoulders slumped, he walked back inside. Peter threw the food he had been preparing in the garbage, his stomach too twisted in knots to even contemplate eating, and washed the coffee down the drain.

Then he walked into the living room, snatching up the paper, his anger returning as he sat down on the couch and read through the article. Sadie crawled over to him, placing her head in his lap and whining until he reached down and put a hand on her head.

Sighing, he scratched behind the dog's ears, whispering to her in Russian, telling her all would be okay. But he was lying. He didn't know if anything would ever be okay again.

Harmony snagged the paper up from her front stoop, storming into the house and slamming the door behind her. She tried to remain angry, hoping to keep her desperation at bay. She felt like she'd taken a blow to the heart, and she was slowly bleeding, waiting for the injury to put her out of her misery.

"Slashers star Defensemen being investigated for sexual assault." That's what the headline had read. Her stomach dropped a second time as she re-read it, going into the article below. The writer was vague and didn't give too much detail. They said the sheriff's department would neither confirm or deny, but that a confidential source had come forward, and without naming the girl, or the location of the incident went on to say that the encounter happened one night at a bar, after the young lady had asked for an autograph and had been invited back to the player's house, only to be accosted in an alleyway.

It didn't sound like something Peter would do. But with all these different emotions roiling within her, she had a hard time sorting through all of them. The detective's questions coming back to haunt her. How did he seem? Was he dressed weird? She thought back to the night in question, reliving all the details, right down to their passionate almost-love-making on the couch.

Peter had seemed fine. If he'd had any sort of "encounter" with a fan, she had seen no indication of it. As for how he had been dressed, he'd just taken a shower, his wet hair making that perfectly obvious. But why? Was it as this article had said? Had he needed to shower because he was covered in filth after attacking a young woman in the alley behind some bar?

She didn't want to believe it. How could she? She'd been with Peter that night, and though beer had most certainly been on his breath, he was far from drunk. And he was gentle with her. Throughout their feverish kissing and fondling of each other, Peter was ever so gentle with her. Wouldn't someone who had just assaulted a girl and gotten caught in the act have been a little rougher? Careless even in her handling?

Peter hadn't seemed troubled to her in any way, though. That's what bugged her the most. She felt like she knew Peter by now. He was a pretty easy going guy, but he was absolutely shy around women. She was sure that had been no act. Harmony herself was more prone to going after guys like herself, outgoing and sure of themselves, perhaps bordering on arrogant. It was Peter's accent and his eyes that had caught her attention, and his smile that had sealed the deal.

She probably wouldn't have been able to get beyond his bashfulness otherwise. So how was it that a man like Peter, one whom followed rather than led in matters of physical need, could have been capable of attempting to rape someone? Oh sure, he was physically capable, Peter was an athlete, after all, his body honed to perfection, but he lacked an immoral compass. Didn't he?

Besides all that, Peter had been raised around women, a doting mother, two sisters, he practically swam in women up to his eyeballs as a youth. How does someone like that turn into a rapist? No. It just didn't make any sense. But here it was, right in front of her face, someone was accusing Peter of trying to rape her. In a dirty alley no less.

Hadn't he all but made love to her on the couch? And what about the beach? Peter was nothing if not adventurous once you got past his hesitancy and made the first move. Had that been the case here? Did this girl make a move on Peter, and he was unable to control himself? Perhaps taking things too far?

Harmony shook her head. That's not how Peter was. She was almost positive that had she at any point told Peter to stop, he would have. But Peter cares about you. Maybe he's different with other women? She brushed off that thought as well. Peter Petrovic wasn't two people, and he damn sure wasn't an actor.

He was genuine in everything he did and said. No way was he capable of being a cold-hearted rapist one minute and a tender lover the next.

Then why don't you believe him?

The question hovered around her, and she didn't have an answer. Had her past so colored her perception, that she couldn't, no, wouldn't give Peter the benefit of the doubt now?

Peter still hadn't moved from his spot on the couch. Slunk down into the cushions, he patted Sadie absently while she slept. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to think, or how he should feel. Peter was so far out of his depth here that all he could do was sit and stare. He picked a spot on the wall and bore a hole in it with his eyes, hoping the earth would open up and swallow him whole.

He ignored the knock at the door a little while later, he hadn't even considered that it might be Harmony come to her senses and ready to talk. Peter was utterly and hopelessly depressed by that point. Sadie became alert though, rushing at the door and barking madly. After another brief knock, a key slid into the lock and the doorknob turned.

"That fucking bitch!" Andre yelled, letting himself in. "Peter you here?" he called, petting Sadie and pushing past her advances. Andre entered the living room, took one look at Peter and swore again. "I can't believe that little fucking slut did this! Are you alright man?" he asked, his mood shifting as he took in Peter's look of despair.

Peter shrugged, his voice failing him as he looked imploringly into the eyes of his one true ally.

"Shit." Andre groaned, rubbing the back of his neck and crouching down in front of Peter. "Tell me what to do Peter. Do you want me to kill her? I can have it arranged."

One side of Peter's mouth quirked into a smile, Andre always did know just what to say. He shook his head. "Harmony was here this morning," he said, looking past Andre to the spot on the wall again, his heart sinking as her name fell thickly off his tongue.

Pushing at Sadie again as she attacked his face vigorously with her tongue, Andre stood, running a hand through his hair. "God, I'm so sorry Pete," he said, looking around now, taking note of the attempted breakfast, the spilled coffee near the sink, the burnt pancakes lying in the open trash can and the newspaper strewn all over the floor and sofa. He could only guess what had happened, and his heart ached for Peter. What it must have been like for Harmony to find out this way.

"What have you to be sorry for?" Peter asked, his voice cracking as he tried to sound brave. It was easy to see how much he was hurting, though. For such a big guy to look that way, defeated and fragile, more pale than usual, it was just too much.

"Damn it," Andre swore again. "There's gotta be something we can do! She can't get away with this."

"But she has."

"Only if you let her."

"And what would you have me do? Am I to call the papers and tell them is all a lie? Bettman would have me suspended in heartbeat."

He was right. Andre hadn't thought of that. This was bad, for sure, and it was going to go national by the end of the day, Andre was surprised there weren't reporters crawling all over the place already, but if Peter did anything to call attention to himself, or got in the way of the investigation, Bettman would surely make an example out of him.

"I just don't like this Pete," he grumbled. "Hell, look at you!" Andre pointed a finger at him, his heart breaking as Peter's frown darkened. "Have you at least called Jean yet? What about your parents?"

Peter looked up at him in shock. "My parents? You think I would want to talk to them about this? My Matz would be on next flight here. Net. I must deal with this myself. I will call Jean later."

Sighing, Andre slumped down on the couch beside him, Sadie at his feet, her doggy breath hot on his hands as she pressed her head into his palms to be petted. "So what, we just sit here then?"

"Da," Peter said with a faint smile, trust Andre to stay and wallow in his misery with him. "We sit."

Andre had ordered a pizza for lunch, and by one o'clock that afternoon, the story was all over the local news, reporters camped out in front of his townhouse, hoping for a glimpse of him, or a comment for their news segment.

Peter put in a call to his Lawyer, who was more than a little upset by the news, and already preparing countermeasures, getting everything ready for a press conference. She told him she'd send someone out to clear the reporters if he wanted her to, but Peter shrugged it off.

His conversation with Jean was a little more comforting.

Able to communicate to her in Russian, it was easier to voice his concerns, and Jean did her best to reassure him. Bettman was aware of the latest, and Peter would still meet with him and the rest of the Slashers organization tomorrow, where an interview would take place, and then a press conference had been scheduled.

Peter's Lawyer would be standing by to field questions after Bettman and Peter each made statements, Jean was writing one up for him as they spoke. Bless her heart. She was always so good to him.

As of right now, there was no mention of a suspension or trade of any kind involving Peter. Though rumors would abound in the next several days. Peter had just signed a lofty contract with a no movement clause, but it wouldn't stop people from speculating whether or not the Slashers would ship him out along with his bad press.

The Slashers were an upscale organization after all, and other than a few tabloid articles written about Donovan and his fictitiously cheating ways, there had never been an ounce of bad press in their direction. But now they would be shrouded in it. Peter was supposed to be going home at the end of the week. Sharing the Stanley Cup with his friends and family, what would he do now?

Peter had been told not to leave town, at least for the time being, and training camp wasn't too far away at this point, even if he put off his week with the cup until later, he'd never have enough time to go home and enjoy it. And his parents, he'd have to tell them the truth at some point. They were going to wonder why he wasn't coming home next week.

What could he possibly say to his mother that would convince her not to come rushing over here? Surely she was going to want to protect him like the mother hen she was. This was going to break her heart. She'd believe him of course, but thinking of her baby, in such pain, she wasn't going to like having to remain in Russia while he dealt with this.

But he would deal with this. And he'd find a way to get Harmony back too.

Harmony couldn't help herself.

Despite her feelings about what was going on, despite not having talked things out with Peter, who had called several times now since the news had broken yesterday, she flipped on the evening news and watched the most horrific press conference she had ever seen.

Gary Bettman, the NHL commissioner with his brown close-cropped hair that was graying at the temples, though was more than likely a dye job, to begin with, but hey at least he still had a full head of hair! sat before the camera, all business in his fancy suit as he addressed the media. His blue eyes roamed the crowd, pinning the reporters with a stern gaze.

"We are taking this latest accusation with the utmost seriousness," he assured the press, who pelted him left and right with questions.

'Would Peter be suspended? Was the NHL doing their own investigation? Could they confirm or deny the reports and accusations?' He handled them all with practiced ease.

"Until such time," he began, waiting for the people around him to quiet down. "The NHL will honor the legal system and allow them to do their jobs. And until such time that Mr. Petrovic is arrested or charged with a crime, he will likewise be permitted to do his."

The media went into an uproar at this, all but calling for the commissioner's head. It was as if no one was willing to give Peter the benefit of the doubt. In the eyes of public opinion, he'd been found guilty and they wanted him sentenced. It made Harmony mad, furious even. Despite her own feelings on the matter, and her lack of conviction of Peter's innocence, didn't he deserve his own due process?

"Mr. Petrovic." Bettman continued, "will not be suspended and will be allowed to participate in training camp as normal until and unless the police have decided that a crime has been committed. I thank you for your time," he said, adding a "no further comment please." before turning the microphone over to a handsome older woman with short gray hair and a motherly gesture about her.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, members of the press," she said, commanding the attention of the room. "As PR director of the Savannah Slashers organization, it is my duty to inform you that Mr. Petrovic has indeed agreed to be present for questions today."

Harmony's mouth went slack. What? Peter was going to openly face the press? Was he crazy? Harmony had expected Bettman to take the stand, had even figured they'd all hear from Peter's lawyer who was said to be standing by, but she'd had no indication that Peter was going to speak out on his own behalf!

Glued to the TV now Harmony listened as the woman, who called herself Jean, continued.

"I ask that in respect for the legal process, once Mr. Petrovic has given his statement, you keep all questions limited to hockey and the upcoming season. Thank you." Jean nodded in a direction off camera, then took a seat to the right of the microphone.

Peter walked in then, and aside from the frown on his face, and the cold despair in his eyes, he looked absolutely fabulous in his designer suit and tie. Peter took a seat next to Jean, who leaned over and whispered something to him in Russian just loud enough for the mic to pick up the foreign dialect, Peter nodded and faced the crowd, a piece of paper in his hands.

Looking out at the press, he said "good afternoon." His normally loud baritone only an octave or two above a whisper, he unfolded the paper in his hands then, reading it word for word. "In respect for our law enforcement officials, I will not discuss the details of this case. I have faith in our legal system and I am confident that when the facts come to light, I will be absolved of any wrongdoing. Thank you."

Jean leaned over then, "Mr. Petrovic will begin taking questions now," she said, laying a hand on Peter's shoulder.

The reporters started hounding him immediately, and Harmony wanted nothing more than to march in there and let them have a piece of her mind. Hadn't they been told not to ask about the case? Not that they listened, one question after the next was hurled at him, and though they may have asked it in a way that didn't feel threatening, it always came back to the case.

Jean, however, sitting beside him, spoke to him each time a question was asked. Harmony assumed she was translating it all into Russian so as there would be no doubt, because when Peter spoke, he was clear in his answers, and despite the way his jaw was starting to clench, he held his anger at bay with an amazing amount of control.

Harmony knew she could never have done that. Which was one more reason why she wanted to believe Peter. He had such control of himself, no way would he have lost that strong willed composure with a fan. She was beginning to think he had never even had any interaction with the girl at all.

Peter concluded the interview, turning it over to his coach, who handled the same questions with his own steely reserve and Harmony turned off the TV. Poor Peter, she thought to herself. She should have been there for him. How much easier would it have been if he'd had her support?

God, she was such a fool.

"You did great out there," Jean said, patting Peter on the back. "If you need anything, you let me know. Okay?"

He nodded. Thank god for Jean. Peter didn't know where he'd be without her. She had literally held his hand the entire time, had even been there with him this morning when he'd called and talked to his parents. And what a conversation that had been! He'd had to force his mother into promising she wouldn't be on the next flight out.

He didn't want her here; she didn't need to deal with this. Hadn't this brought enough shame on his family already? He certainly didn't need the press dragging them through the mud with him.

Peter only hoped, now that he had said his peace, and let the public know that he was innocent that things would settle down. That people would wait for all the facts before condemning him, an innocent man.

Pipe dreams of course.

### Chapter 13

Leaks in the Case

Over the next week, "details" of the case leaked out slowly. Things that painted Peter in a very bad light.

There were the "sources close to the victim" saying there was a scratch on her inner thigh, her clothes had appeared torn and dirty. Someone from the bar remembered hearing a girl scream. And a "friend," had seen Peter flee the scene.

It was all too much for Peter to bear. Aside from his practices with some of the other guys from the team, and a couple of workouts at the rink's gym, Peter pretty much kept to himself. If he left the house, he drove Viktor's car, which Sandra had so graciously dropped off for him, and he made sure to disguise himself in over-sized shirts and glasses, wearing a baseball cap to hide his unruly hair.

The reporters had stopped hounding him one by one as the week wore on and the leaks became less and less, but mention of Peter or the case made some sort of media outlet almost daily just the same.

And though Peter called her at least once every day, Harmony still hadn't spoken to him. He was beginning to realize that what they had might not be strong enough to withstand this.

The last week of July came and went, before she knew it, the middle of August was fast upon them.

And though things at work were running smoothly, construction getting ready to break for the new strip mall going in, Harmony felt bad about ignoring Peter's calls, and she was constantly watching the windows at work or home, secretly hoping he might ignore her wishes and just show up. But he never did. Either that was just like Peter to be such a gentleman, or he was simply afraid she would refuse to see him.

Which wasn't the case at all.

Harmony wanted to see him, she desperately wanted to drive over to his place and comfort him. She'd read all the latest leaks in the case, the information that someone obviously wanted to be known, and it was pretty easy to figure out who had the most to gain by giving such information to the press.

She had, in fact, read every online article and newspaper clipping she could get a hold of, waiting for some kind of break. DNA evidence, a retraction, something that would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Peter was innocent. It wasn't that she didn't want to believe him after all, she was just gun shy after what had happened with Hector. Hadn't she trusted the wrong person once? Hadn't it almost cost her everything? She couldn't risk that again.

Although, after talking to her father, who was more than willing to give Peter the benefit of the doubt, especially since this was becoming the norm, women chasing after rich men for a shot at a big payday, Harmony wanted to support him that much more. Bill had pointed out that this case had nothing to do with Harmony, they'd barely been dating at that point, and were still in the process really of getting to know one another, so what did she really have to lose?

At some point, people were going to forget about this. Of course, Harmony had argued that if anyone ever did an online search of Peter the articles would surely show, but he'd said 'so what?' to that. So what indeed. What did the opinions of others have to do with her own? Since when did she allow anyone else to dictate how she felt?

A knock on her door that afternoon tore her from her thoughts. Her heart hammered in her chest as she walked to the door, Lupus whining at her side sensing her tension. What if it was Peter? she asked herself.

But it wasn't.

"Andre? What are you doing here?" she asked upon opening the door.

Andre didn't wait for an invitation, he strode right in, patting Lupus on the head as he passed and made his way to the living room where he sat down and made himself comfortable.

"Sure, come right in, make yourself at home." Harmony mocked, standing before him with her arms crossed.

"We need to talk." He said, his tone clipped and hostile.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it's about Peter."

Harmony slumped into a chair opposite the couch, her anger fading. Lupus nudged at her hands, she pushed him away. "How is he?" she finally found the nerve to ask.

Standing and pacing the length of the room now, filled with nervous energy, Andre shook his head. "Not good Harmony. He's not." He turned to face her then, and stopped pacing, his features contorting, pain, no anger, written all over them. "Why do you keep ignoring his phone calls?" He asked pointedly.

She blanched.

"He needs you Harmony. Of all of us, he needs you most."

"I can't. I'm sorry, I just can't right now."

"You can't right now? What the hell does that even mean?" He started pacing again, like a caged animal, his strides quick and determined as he crossed the room end to end. Lupus following him as though they were playing some sort of game. "Do you have any idea what this is doing to Peter?"

"No," she admitted, her head dropping as she pretended to pick at her fingernails.

Andre stopped pacing again, Lupus ran into him as he pulled up short. "It's killing him Harmony. He doesn't leave the house, he gave up his week with the Cup, do you have any idea what that trophy means to us? How hard we worked for that damn thing?" She shook her head, still not meeting his gaze. "We worked our asses off for that, and Peter doesn't give two shits about it! You know," he continued, changing tacts. "Peter was supposed to be in Russia right now, celebrating with his family, but no, he's sitting at home feeling sorry for himself, sorry for the shame and disappointment he's brought on everyone."

That did the trick, Harmony looked up, her face pained, "He's not a disappointment, how could he think that?"

"So you believe he's innocent then?"

"What? Yes, I mean, no. You tricked me damn it."

"It's a simple question Harmony. Do you think Peter did this?"

She thought about it for a second, but she still wasn't sure. "Do you?" she asked tentatively.

"Hell, no!" he nearly shouted, "I know Peter, he couldn't hurt a damned fly, let alone a woman."

"I just don't know what to believe Andre."

"Then believe this," he spat, walking towards her and crouching in front of the chair. "Peter loves you. You're the third girl he's ever been intimate with. And he would never do anything to hurt you."

"I'm the third girl? Really?"

He nodded, "really. Peter and I are good friends, we've talked about these things, he was downright shocked to know how many women I've slept with."

Harmony snorted, causing Andre to laugh as he got to his feet and sat on the couch opposite her again.

"Peter was pretty serious with a girl in high school, she was the daughter of one of his father's colleagues," he said, giving Harmony valuable insight into the man she loved. "Then there was the girl he dated that trained with his mom. Now, granted, he's probably had more sex than me," Andre joked, winking at her, "but our boy's a serial monogamist, make no mistake about it."

Harmony blushed. "I had no idea," she admitted. "Peter and I haven't talked about our pasts, well, okay, Peter hasn't. I just thought... well..."

"What? That Peter had a way with women? He's not like that Harmony."

"I'm beginning to see that."

"Good. Because there's more. Peter and I met that girl a few weeks ago. Before this whole incident ever occurred."

"Really? Why didn't he tell me that?" she cut in before he could continue.

Andre looked at her skeptically, "Maybe because you didn't give him the chance? Peter told me you walked out on him, you didn't listen to a word he said, did you?"

She shook her head, dropping her gaze again, more embarrassed than anything. Guilty even. "No, I didn't give him the chance. Maybe if I had....but I didn't"

"If you had, he would have told you he'd never touched her."

"And I probably still wouldn't have believed him. Oh God, Andre, I'm such an idiot."

"You don't even know the half of it," he retorted.

"Gee, thanks," she grumbled staring him down now.

Andre shrugged. "You did it, not me."

"So what can I do to make things better?"

"How about you try talking to him?"

"I want to," she said, hesitating, "but I don't know Andre, with everything that's been leaked to the press, I still have my doubts."

"And who do you think spilled all that crap to the press? She's lying Harmony. The little bitch is lying. I was with Peter, both nights... and let me tell you a little something about this girl. She's a slut, a puck bunny, she chases after hockey players and sees just how many of us she can sleep with."

"And how do you know this?"

Andre stood again, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning a hip against the arm of the couch, "Because I've slept with her." He said, matter of factly. His eyes sharp and angry.

"What?"

"That's right. She and her little friend approached us a few weeks ago, Peter blew her off, he walked out of the bar completely," He shrugged, "so I took her home. She was cute, so I thought, what the hell? Why not?"

"And the second time? She what, came on to Peter again?"

Andre shook his head, "I didn't see her the second time. But Peter said he didn't remember her, he'd been so caught up in you, he'd barely acknowledged her, so when she asked him for an autograph and a picture, he didn't think anything of it. But he swears he went right home afterward, he didn't stick around and chat. He went home, and then you showed up."

Harmony sat there pensively for a moment, Andre started to fidget again, caught between wanting to sit back down and pace. She ignored him, though, trying to focus on Peter and that night. How had he seemed? He was perfectly calm, rational even. Were those the actions of someone who had just tried to rape a girl? She thumbed herself mentally. Absolutely not. "I just don't know., she finally said, meeting his hard eyes.

Andre threw up his hands. "Damn it Harmony! Peter needs you! Get that through your head! Go to him, your feelings be damned and show him your support! What are you waiting for? Do you need me to shove the test results in your face to prove he's innocent?"

"They have those back already? I haven't heard anything."

"No!" he nearly screamed, Lupus let out a low growl in his throat then as he slunk over to Harmony and sat at her feet. "Sorry," Andre said, lowering his voice. "I think the Lawyer said another week or so, but if I were you, I'd make up my mind one way or the other long before those results come in. If you need some little piece of paper to tell you that Peter is innocent...then you don't deserve him." He left then, walking straight out the door and letting it slam loudly behind him.

Harmony was startled, jerking at the noise. Lupus set his head in her lap, his soulful eyes imploring her. "It's okay boy," she lied, patting him on the head. Harmony didn't know what to think, or what to feel at this point. So she felt empty instead.

Andre stormed down the walk of Harmony's driveway, sliding behind the wheel of his sporty little BMW and peeling out. He was pissed. That had not gone at all the way he had planned it to. Harmony was supposed to be rushing over to Peter's by now, ready to comfort him and tell him everything would be alright.

Instead, she looked as bad off as Peter did. He just didn't understand it. Peter loved the girl, and she obviously had pretty strong feelings for him as well. What were they waiting for? Somebody needed to make a move here! Damn it! If this was what love did to you, to hell with it, he thought. He wasn't going to fall in love. Fuck that shit!

Sighing as he headed for home, Andre grabbed his phone, connecting the bluetooth and placing a call to Donovan.

"Hello?" Donovan's voice boomed through the sound system a few minutes later.

"Hey Donny, it's Andre. Got a minute?"

"Yeah what's up?"

"You still got that number for that reporter you used to know?"

There was a pause, "what reporter?" he finally answered. Andre could hear muffled voices on the other end, Donovan was obviously talking to someone else, probably Lacy, his attention splintered.

"Donny!" he yelled, trying to regain his full attention.

"Yeah man?"

"The reporter. You know, the one that confirmed those articles that girl sent in about you."

"Oh...that reporter," Donovan answered, his voice muffled a second longer as he carried on that second conversation.

Andre tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, giving him a minute, but losing his patience.

"Yeah, I've still got her number. Sorry man, we're trying to decide what kind of counter tops we want in the bathroom."

He sighed to himself. "Go with cracked glass," he said, then turned the conversation back to the reporter. "I need that chick's contact information. Can you get it for me?"

"Huh? What do you need her number for? Oh, and Lacy says the glass isn't a half bad idea."

"Yeah, no, it'll look good with the dark cabinets you guys want. Back to the number, though, I want to set the record straight. I'm sick of twiddling my thumbs, somebody needs to do something about this bitch and all her lies."

Donovan sighed on the other end of the line. "I don't know man. Interfering in this mess doesn't sound like a good idea. What if Bettman finds out? And what about Peter? Hasn't he been through enough already?"

"Shit, Bettman? That idiot? He isn't going to find out. Trust me. And this isn't going to come anywhere near Peter..." he paused, he needed to word this correctly. "I just want people to see the other side of things. See what kind of girl she really is. I've done some digging, and I think I can paint a pretty disturbing image of this chick. Cast enough doubt to get the media off Peter's back, ya know?"

"I don't know Andre, it's a pretty delicate balance."

"Donny, listen, either you give me that reporter's number, or I'll find another one. I don't care, one way or the other, I'm going to get this shit out there." He could hear Donovan grumbling now, sifting through papers. "I just figured I'd have more control over the situation if I already had an in with the reporter doing the story."

"Alright," he growled, rambling off the name and number for the reporter he knew. "Just be careful, will you? We don't need Peter getting any more upset than he already is."

"Careful, yeah, you got it. Thanks, man." Andre said, disconnecting the call.

The bitch was going to pay now; he was going to make sure of that.

Harmony thought about what Andre had said long after he was gone.

He was right. She needed to make a decision one way or the other, Peter deserved at least that much didn't he? So why was it so damn hard? She loved Peter, but then, of course, she had to reason that if she did, trusting him shouldn't be so hard. Her feelings were so convoluted; she wasn't sure what was what.

Despite her newfound freedoms, she went to work that night. Now that she had officially taken over as manager, she could do most of what she needed to do at home. Harmony had set up a small office in her spare bedroom and was able to log into the system at her store remotely.

She had access to the security cameras, daily financials, the works, and as her new assistant manager was more than capable, Harmony was able to pretty much come and go as she pleased. Though she still made it a point over the past couple of weeks to work one or two full days alongside her peers.

Still, she'd had no idea when she agreed to sell off the land around the store that she'd have so much freedom, and now she began to wonder what she would do with all that time. Idle hands were the devil's play things after all.

Peter was supposed to be her distraction, and while perhaps she was more distracted than ever by the current state of affairs, it wasn't at all what she had in mind. So she went to work, even though her presence wasn't needed, she went in and pretended to make herself useful.

### Chapter 14

Love and Logic

Kate was the shift supervisor for the night, and since Harmony had just been in the store the previous day, making sure that the new employees were settling in, Kate seemed a bit surprised to see her again so soon. Saying as much once she cornered her in the office.

"Not that it isn't great to have you here, but what's up?" She asked.

Kate took to lower management with ease, and the position was going to look great on her resume once she finished school. She only had a year left before she became a certified Pharmacy technician at which point she'd probably take a position at a local pharmacy, something that Harmony was actually considering bringing into the store now that she and her father had decided to remodel the place and do away with the outdoor section, it being the one spot in the store that teetered on the edge of the profit margin, and maybe by that time they could offer a more permanent position to Kate.

That thought aside for now, though, Harmony shrugged and rifled through some of the afternoon paperwork, she wanted desperately to find something to take her mind off Peter.

"Just bored at home I guess. Figured I'd come check things out here."

Kate put her hands on her hips, "I'm not buying it," she said, "this wouldn't have anything to do with that hockey player would it?"

Everyone at the store knew she'd been seeing Peter by now. Kate was hard pressed to keep a secret herself, so once Harmony had let on that she and Peter had gone out on a date, word spread around the store like wildfire. And when news of the assault became public knowledge, her employees looked at her a little differently. Was it pity she had seen in their eyes?

She didn't know and didn't care to know for that matter.

Harmony didn't have a lot of friends. In high school, she hung out with a couple of girls, and a slew of different guys. Girls envied her for her curvaceous figure and therefore wanted nothing to do with her, and guys well, they came and went. Most of them had at one point or another attempted to get into her pants, and failing they either went their merry way or took to her entourage once they were hooked by her easy going attitude.

Harmony had often felt more at ease around men, she even considered herself one of the guys since she liked manly things. Fishing and playing poker, or shooting some pool were a couple of her favorite past times, and once she made it clear she wasn't interested in knocking boots with any of them, the men in her life were like brothers to her.

Something her own brother wasn't. They'd never really gotten along, her and Craig. It wasn't that he was a jerk or anything, they just didn't have much in common, he was five years older than her after all.

But Hector had changed everything.

Harmony had the three same girlfriends since elementary school, and though after graduation one of them had moved out of state, the other two were close by. Well, sort of. Dana had moved a few counties west, residing in Atlanta now where she had settled down and had a couple of kids, her husband working for some big law firm, but her other friend Tammy still lived in the area.

They'd even made it a point to have regular nights out together. They'd meet up with some of the guys, and hit the clubs, or maybe have dinner and do one of those trivia nights together. Hector had changed all of that, though.

Maybe they hadn't been together all that long, a little less than a year in total, but he slowly and effectively started to alienate her from her friends. She certainly couldn't hang out with any of the guys, because how did he know she wasn't sleeping with any of them? But her best friend? Her best female friend?

She wasn't even sure how it had happened, but it did. And after the debacle of Hector's arrest, Tammy had refused to forget how easily she had been cast aside. Maybe she said she'd forgiven her, but she couldn't put the hurt out of her mind. So they'd gone their separate ways.

Harmony had been so happy when she'd met Kate. True, Kate was a couple of years younger than her, not even twenty-one yet, so going to bars was still out of the question, but when they got together, they had fun, and Harmony was able to confide in her, well, partly anyway.

After hearing how quickly word of her and Peter dating had gotten around the store, she was sure glad she hadn't told Kate any of the more intimate details. Though surely she would have kept something like that to herself?

"Yeah." She admitted, after thinking things over for a minute, "it's about Peter." Harmony wasn't sure how much she could truly trust Kate, but she was growing increasingly tired, depressed even. Her meeting with Andre only making things worse. She needed someone to confide in before she drove herself mad!

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kate asked, leaning a hip against the desk.

Harmony wanted to, she really did. "Aren't you needed on the floor?" she asked, one eyebrow cocking upwards. She was still the boss after all, no matter how much she needed a friend at the moment.

Kate shook her head, though. "Chelsea's still here, I'll just take my break early."

Chelsea was the assistant manager Harmony had recently promoted, she had opened that morning and would work until at least five, making sure Kate got her lunch break since she'd come in at noon and would be there until ten, closing at nine and resetting the store. It was only two o'clock now.

"You're sure you don't mind taking your lunch a couple of hours early?" Harmony remarked. She desperately wanted to unburden herself, but not at the expense of Kate's dinner.

"No, not at all. If I get hungry later I'll just get something from the deli and eat it while I count down tills." She replied, laying a hand on Harmony's shoulder. "Come on, I'll let Chelsea know, and we can go out and sit in my car."

Harmony followed her upstairs, the back office had a door that connected to one end of a hall containing a couple of offices and a conference room where most of the employees ate their lunches. They found Chelsea in her office, the one she shared with the price scan clerk that set all of the prices and specials for the week, Harmony was the only one that had a private office, the door to which was also in the count room downstairs, though she hardly used it, preferring to do most of her stuff remotely from home now that she had that option.

There were also a couple of offices located at the back of the store in the connecting warehouse that the produce, meat, and bakery managers used, but again, they shared them with their assistants as well.

Chelsea looked up from a report she had been going over, adjusting the rims of her glasses as she watched Kate and Harmony approach. Despite the youthful sound of her name, Chelsea was an older woman, she had in fact been working at the store for many years now, and was also currently seeing Harmony's father on a regular basis.

Harmony hadn't hesitated however to give her the assistant manager position. She'd managed a diner in her youth, coming here once it closed down, like so many places in the county had over the years. And Chelsea had shown no indication of resenting having to work for someone much younger than her, let alone the daughter of the man she was now dating.

"Ladies," she said, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. "What can I do for you?"

In that moment, Harmony felt less like the boss herself, and more like any other employee. Thankfully, Kate spoke up before Harmony embarrassed herself.

"I'm going to take my break now; can you watch the floor? Harmony and I have some things we need to talk about."

Chelsea regarded her, taking in the shadows under her eyes, the moisture that now threatened to spill over. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice softening as she stood and made her way around the desk, placing a hand on Harmony's back. "Is something wrong with Bill?" Apparently, she was one of the few that hadn't heard about Peter. That or her feelings for Harmony's father ran deeper than she first realized.

"No, no." Harmony said, shaking her head. "My dad's fine."

Relieved, Chelsea let out the breath that she had been holding. "Oh thank goodness." She leaned up against the front of the desk then, folding her arms across her chest, "It's about that Peter fellow isn't it?" She continued, dashing Harmony's hopes that not everyone had heard about her dating the hockey player. "Your father told me about what happened, it must be hard."

Harmony nodded, her lower lip trembling.

Taking that as her cue, Kate placed a protective arm around her shoulder and ushered her from the room, looking over her shoulder at Chelsea, "I'll be back in an hour," she said.

Chelsea gave a curt bow of her head, not moving until after the girls were out of view and headed for the stairs.

Kate led her to her car in the parking lot, a little Nissan her parents had given her for graduation, and after turning on the ignition to get the air cranking, she tuned into her favorite radio station, setting the volume on low so they would have some sort of background noise to cut through the silence.

"So what's going on?" she finally asked.

Some sad song was wafting through the speakers, a lonely man singing about the loss of his lover. How ironic, she thought to herself, fighting to hold back the pain and the tears that clung to her ducts, the dam all but overflowing at this point. She took a deep breath, she wouldn't cry.

"I don't know how to make myself believe him," Harmony answered, pressing her face into her palms in an attempt to keep the tears at bay for just a little longer.

Nodding, though Harmony couldn't see it, Kate leaned back in her seat. She had to tread lightly here. "Have you tried looking at things logically?" She eventually managed, causing Harmony to lift her head and look at her, the glassiness of her gaze truly sobering and heart-wrenching at the same time.

"Don't you think I've tried to?" Harmony shook her head. "I keep going over things. How he looked that night, how he acted." She sighed, "how he kissed me."

Kate bit her lip, this was all news to her. Harmony had admitted to seeing Peter, but she'd given nothing away. Not even an involuntary facial reflex to indicate that they'd been intimate in any way. Though she should have guessed, why else would a woman be so torn otherwise? Her heart was clearly in it, as well as her body. Kate couldn't imagine how she would react in the same situation, then again, she didn't know all the facts either.

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" Kate asked, placing what she hoped was a comforting hand on Harmony's knee. Then, as though sensing her apprehension, she added, "I promise this will stay between the two of us."

Clearly, all the reassurance she needed, Harmony spilled her guts. She told her everything, starting at the beginning and ending with her discussion earlier this morning with Andre. She, of course, glossed over the intimate details in the middle. Let Kate put two and two together on her own, surely at her age she had enough of an imagination to fill in the blanks.

"Is it okay for me to jealous?" Kate said when she had finished, causing Harmony to blush before giving her a most indignant stare that had Kate laughing. "Alright, so maybe I'm not jealous about the whole assault thing, but my God Harmony. Peter Petrovic?" she shook her head as though in disbelief, "I did some research on him after he came into the store, and man oh man, he is one yummy piece of prime rib!"

Despite herself, Harmony couldn't help but smile, which she supposed was Kate's plan all along. "You did some research huh?" she sniffed, wiping the sleeve of her shirt against her nose as she finally managed to get hold of her emotions. "What'd you find out? If you don't mind my asking."

"Not much." She admitted, glad that her distraction was slowly improving Harmony's mood. "There were tons of articles in Russian, that I obviously couldn't read, and some more about his stats and what not, you know, his family. That kind of stuff."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I did read one about an old girlfriend, though, that was kind of interesting."

Harmony seemed to perk up, straightening out her shoulders, "Oh?" she said again, though this time in a more questioning manner.

Kate nodded. "Uh huh. I think it than was a student of his mother's, some famous ice skater or another."

"Not just some famous ice skater." Harmony cut in, "His mother is a two-time Olympian."

"Right whatever." Kate retorted, waving a hand in dismissal. "Anyway. She was his mother's student, and they dated for like two or three years, I don't really remember."

"Was she pretty?"

"I guess so, yeah."

As Kate shrugged, Harmony tried to conjure up what this ex-girlfriend might have looked like. "Let me guess, she was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes?" She grumbled.

"Nope," Kate replied cheerfully. "She was kind of short, and exotic."

"Exotic?"

"Yeah. She had long black hair and a heart shaped face with slanted eyes that were really dark. I think her mother was Japanese. Yeah, I think that's what it said."

"Huh, and she studied in Russia? I thought most skaters studied here, or like, in their own countries."

"Guess not. The article said she was American. Anyways, now that you're not on the brink of tears anymore, why don't you tell me why you're so hell-bent on avoiding Peter?" Kate stared her down then, her eyes going to little slits as she continued to harp on her. "It's not like you to back down from anything, in fact, it's probably what I admire most about you. You have good instincts Harmony, what are they telling you?"

Harmony scoffed. "Good instincts. Yeah."

"Oh come on, you're not thinking about what happened with Hector are you?" Kate scolded, her patience starting to wear thin.

Harmony winced. She'd forgotten that she'd confided to Kate about that particular subject. Maybe she was better at keeping a secret then she realized.

"Seriously," Kate went on. "Think about it Harm, if you didn't have such good instincts do you think any of this would have happened." As if to make a point, Kate moved her hand to indicate the grocery store in front of them.

"That had nothing to do with instinct Kate, my father just happened to be ready to retire that's all."

"That's bullshit and you know it! You're twenty-four years old Harmony and the general manager of a profitable store. No way would your father have turned the ropes over to you if he didn't think, no make that if he didn't know that you could handle it, and you've already made some pretty amazing changes to the place." She took a breath, her hands falling into her lap with frustration. "Like I said, you have good instincts."

"Then how did I get mixed up with a guy like Hector? Or a guy like Peter?"

"Don't you dare put Peter in the same category as that thug!"

Kate's staunch defense of a man she didn't know had Harmony's hackles rising, though she couldn't have said why when she wanted so badly to defend him herself, "and why not?" she asked in earnest, hoping that Kate's insight might prove to be valuable to her own opinion of Peter.

"First off, Peter hasn't been charged with anything, and maybe I'm no cop, but I would think that if the 'evidence'," she said with little finger quotes, "was so damning, they would have arrested him by now. And secondly, Hector was caught in the act, Peter's case is based solely on the accusation of one girl."

She wasn't convinced. "I hear what you're saying, and well, like I said, Andre's story was pretty contradictory to the girl's statement, but I just don't know."

"Okay, then how do you feel?"

Harmony had to think about it for a minute, she stared down at her hands, as if willing them to answer for her. Finally, shaking her head, she said so softly that it came out in nearly a whisper, "I want to believe him. My heart says he's innocent."

"There you go then," Kate said matter of factly.

"It can't be that easy," Harmony replied, her brow furrowing.

"Why can't it?" Kate touched her shoulder, drawing her focus, "look at this place Harm," She said, indicating the grocery store once more. "Your instinct told you to sell off the land to that developer, simple as that, and now you're the general manager, who only has to work once a week. Why can't this be just as simple?"

Harmony had to admit she had a point, even if the two weren't so easily comparable. "It wasn't that easy Kate."

Her statement earned her a glare.

"Okay okay." She surrendered, "I get what you're saying. My instincts told me not to throw that guy out on his ass, I listened to him, and I made a sound decision based on logic and reasoning." It came to her then, and Kate smiled as the realization crossed her face. "You think I should talk to Peter, and hear what he has to say."

### Chapter 15

Tired of Waiting

Peter paced the living room floor. He was going nuts, he was sure of it. Days had gone by since last he'd seen the sun. Moving the curtains aside he looked out the window to his driveway, a news van was still camped out front. He was growing increasingly tired of feeling like a prisoner, and while he could easily slip into the garage and drive out the alley in Viktor's car, surely they would make him and follow. Their cameras flashing rapidly in his face every time they managed to corner him.

He didn't even bother getting the newspaper anymore for fear they might be lying in wait to ram their microphones in his face and spit questions out at him in rapid fire succession. Peter longed for the time when he would get back out on the ice, and start training camp, but even then, he probably wouldn't be able to escape the dogging press and their raging accusations. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

Sadie looked up from her spot on the couch, whining once as she watched Peter continue to pace, she laid her head back down onto her paws and let out one long doggy sigh. Even she wasn't immune to the stress. Peter watched her drift back off to sleep, a sad smile playing fleetingly across his face. He wondered if he'd run into Harmony if he could somehow manage to outrun the press and make it to the dog park where they'd met.

He'd give anything to go back to that day.

With what he knew now, Peter surely could have changed things given the chance, he would never have gone to that bar. But you can't change the past. Damned if he was going to continue on in his present situation, though.

Andre had stopped by that morning. It was a brief visit, but a welcome one. Viktor wasn't coming back until a week before training camp, and Andre was getting ready himself to go home to Canada for a week or so, but he wanted to check in on Peter first, to see how he was doing. He hadn't liked the shadows under his eyes, or how pale his skin and irises looked, had, in fact, said as much, but given that Peter was pretty much holed up in here alone, he didn't really expect anything else.

He tried to give Peter hope, he tried to tell him that everything would indeed be alright, he'd see. But how could he? Andre's life wasn't in turmoil, his career on the line, the girl of his dreams at arm's length as he suffered in silence. Peter figured there were few people in the world that could truly appreciate the situation he was in, and he pitied them, now more than ever. Hadn't he seen this happen to other guys in the league? Wasn't that why he was so careful when he went out?

Andre took women home with him on a regular basis, and yet, not one of them had dared try anything of this sort on him. The very girl accusing him of this heinous crime had indeed slept with Andre mere weeks ago, and still, it was Peter she had gone after. A man she had no more than hugged, someone she'd said all of a handful of words to. It just didn't make any sense.

Hell, even though he'd signed this big spiffy contract, Andre was the one who currently made more money. Peter didn't have the kind of endorsements Andre did. And while Andre was still settling on a deal that his agent was currently working out, he'd made more money last season than Peter. Both of them had been on two-year entry level contracts, Peter having come over from the KHL and Andre having been brought up from the AHL, but Andre's contract had earned him a few thousand more. So why Peter?

Perhaps it was the language barrier? Or maybe she felt, given his background, that Peter would be an easier mark? Poor little Russian didn't know the ways of the world, let's take him for all he's worth. Was that it? Was it as simple as his naivety? Or had this been about revenge? Was it because Peter wouldn't sleep with her? And why should he have?

She was plain by anyone's standards, it just so happened that Andre in his callous youth didn't have much in the way of standards. Of course, given the gravity of the situation, and how closely he was involved, Andre was bound to change his ways, lest he ended up the one in the hot seat next time.

Peter tried to shrug it all off. In less than a month he would report to training camp. He would have a new season to look forward to, plenty to occupy his time and his thoughts. But what to do with himself now? He wished Harmony was here. He wanted her to believe in his innocence, take away his pain, and allow him to distract them both.

No matter how many times he tried to call her, though, both on her cell and at work, he never got through. A girl at the grocery store had informed him that she only worked once a week now, and he had just missed her. He wondered what that was about. Was she okay? Why had she gone from working six days a week to just one?

Had he caused such pain for her that she couldn't even face working anymore? She had seemed to love that store, to enjoy her job. He couldn't live with himself if he'd hurt her so badly. He had to talk to her.

After trying her phone one more time, and getting the voicemail after a couple of rings, he peered out the window once again, noted that the van had left, probably for lunch, they were never gone for long after all, and decided it was now or never.

He had to see her. Now.

Peter threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, slipped into his riding jacket and boots, then headed into the garage, at least if took the Ducati he could outrun those bastards. He certainly didn't want them to follow him to Harmony's house, she'd been through enough already, he was sure of it. So far she'd been kept out of the press, and he hoped he could keep it that way.

About half an hour later, taking various side roads and alleys just in case anyone had been keeping tabs on him, Peter pulled up in front of Harmony's building, and as luck would have it, she was home.

"Peter." She said, answering the door before he even managed to knock. "What are you doing here?"

He could have sworn he'd seen something flicker in her gaze, the briefest hint of longing, or desire. But upon closer examination, he figured he must have seen what he so desperately wanted to see, for as she looked at him with her watchful eyes, dark smudges underneath, all he found now was a weariness, one that made him ache deep within the marrow of his bones.

She looked as though she'd lost some weight, her cheeks a little slimmer, her curves less defined. And Peter cursed himself for it. His beautiful luscious Harmony was dwindling before his very eyes. It was all his fault. No. He had to stop blaming himself, he couldn't have known what was going through the mind of that monster when she had asked for an autograph.

Peter had come across many fans since arriving in the US and taking up with the Slashers organization, and after narrowly missing out on rookie of the year, then earning himself a consideration for the Norris Trophy this year, people had become even more aware of him. He had already been finding it harder and harder to go out in public without being accosted by fans, and now, of course, that would increase two fold, though probably not in a positive fashion. Though he'd yet to test that theory.

He didn't really care what his fans thought at this point, though. Not really. Okay, maybe he did to a certain extent, but he had the backing and support of his family, as well as his team and the entire Slashers organization. Even the commissioner of the NHL had given him his support, off the record of course, but he still had it. And that was what mattered. Not a bunch of people that couldn't see past his income and skill set.

Except for Harmony.

He needed Harmony. He wanted her to believe him, and it was time they talked. Hell, it was past time that they had it out. He wasn't going to let her ignore him a second longer.

"May I come in?" he asked, shifting his helmet from the crook of one arm to the other.

Harmony nodded, taking a step back so he could enter. He was here, Peter was really here.

For a moment she had been tempted to tell him to go home. After her conversation with Kate earlier in the day, she needed more time to really think things over. But seeing him before her, how pale he was, and how utterly haunted he looked, she couldn't turn him away.

And hadn't she been hoping he'd stop by? Hadn't she jumped up and looked out the window every time she heard a noise that so much as resembled a motorcycle? She'd freaked Lupus out more than once with the way she had lunged off the couch so fast. That's how she'd known to open the door before he'd knocked.

She'd heard his bike, though at first, she assumed it was her imagination again, but she'd checked the window anyways, gasping as she'd watched him pull into her driveway. Her heart began to flutter, then thump wildly under her breast as she watched him swing his leg over the side of the Ducati, how his jeans had constricted, tightening around his groin.

He'd unzipped his jacket, his t-shirt underneath giving the barest hint of his hard packed abdominals as he'd reached for his helmet and took it off, shaking his head of unruly blonde hair, the wind whipping through it. And when he'd looked to her doorway, his eyes as cold as ice, his full lips compressed into a frown... God, he'd looked so dangerous. He certainly had that brooding thing down.

But it only made her tremble in excitement. Despite the tabloid fodder and the wild accusations of one girl, Harmony had to admit that the sight of him was more than just a little arousing. Her entire body tingled, it was as if he'd been standing before her, his fingers deftly removing her clothing, and she suddenly felt very constricted in her baggy sweater as she had watched him approach. Surely staying away from Peter had been the right thing to do.

Then why did she feel this way? It was like watching her soldier walk up the drive after a long deployment overseas. It had only been a couple of weeks since last she'd laid eyes on him, but seeing him now, it seemed as if a year had passed. Why had she kept him at bay? Because he didn't trust you. Her subconscious berated her. Oh. Right.

But she'd let him in anyways. And Lupus, having been outside, rushed in through the doggy door, throwing himself at Peter, he rolled onto his back, wiggling and panting like a little puppy, begging for attention. Peter scratched him absently as he continued to look over Harmony, who was now standing with her back braced against the closed door.

Her body raged with a fever that only he could break, so she kept her distance. Harmony feared that if he touched her she would fall at his feet and beg. She had to gain control of herself, and she needed to do it fast. Her resolve was weakening every time their eyes met.

"Can we talk?" he said after a minute, the tension in the air so thick he was nearly choking from it.

"What's there to say?" Harmony crossed her arms over her chest, unwilling to move away from the door for the moment.

Sighing, Peter sensed her hesitation and pulled a chair out of the kitchen placing it in front of her, and grabbing a second one for himself. She sat down only when he did so as well, crossing one leg over the other and folding her hands in her lap.

"Why do you not believe me?"

The question was simple, however, the answer was anything but.

Harmony squirmed under his intense gaze, gripping the arms of the chair as if to gain some sort of support, he cocked one eyebrow trying to encourage a response. She had none. She'd tried to think about things logically and rationally, and then she'd tried to consider her own intuition. Everything so far pointed to Peter's innocence, so why was she so damned determined to believe the word of a complete stranger over the man she had come to love?

"Tell me what happened that night Peter."

Peter took a deep breath, his eyes never wavering, but Harmony noticed how his hands clenched into fists at his sides, he stood, pushed the chair away, and began to pace. If she could have shrunk away from him at that point she would have. Harmony felt so vulnerable as she watched him stride around the room, his muscles tense, his energy hovering to an almost dangerous degree. But she wasn't afraid. Harmony knew that despite his heritage and his obvious strength, Peter would never hurt her, but his panther-like grace should have frightened her nonetheless.

"I went to the bar with Andre. After a couple of beers, I leave, he was with some girl by then. So I went home. Outside of bar two girls come up to me, ask me for autograph." He stopped, shrugged, then paced again. "I say no problem. Give to them. Then the one girl wants a picture. Again, no problem. I give to her, and I leave. I get home and let Sadie out, she comes back in covered in mud, and jumps all over me, so we take a shower, and then you show up. I never see that girl again, and I certainly not touch her other than simple hug for photograph."

As Harmony absorbed his words, going over the chain of events, and taking into account how she had found him, how his mood had been, again, it all added up to the same conclusion she'd come to in the beginning. Peter was innocent.

"What about the first time you met her? Andre said you guys saw her before."

Peter stopped pacing again, and stood in front of her, his eyes narrowing as a flicker of jealousy popped into them. "Andre was here? When?"

His nerves were obviously strung as tight as her own, he teetered dangerously close to the edge of a powerful storm, she could all but feel the lightning as it simmered around him, and as the sexual tension she felt herself began to climb to new heights, spurred on by his reaction to Andre having come anywhere near her, she had to fight to maintain control.

"He tried to convince me that you were innocent."

"But you do not want to believe even him? Why Harmony? Is this anything to do with that man in your past? Can you not see the difference between he and I?"

"Tell me about the first time you met her." She interrupted, refusing to answer his questions just yet.

Peter scoffed, folding his arms against the broad expanse of his chest, the hem of his shirt lifting ever so slightly to reveal his hard packed abs as it scrunched up in his tightly folded forearms, his muscles constricting as his fists curled. He was so spectacularly made, even now with his face contorted in anger, his features were that of a beautiful warrior.

She wanted to go to him, to wrap herself around him and feel his body go lax. She could imagine how it would be, he would crumble under her soft touch, then he would gather her into his arms, and he would press kisses to her face and neck.

Shaking her head mentally, Harmony blinked. Her mouth was near to watering, how was she supposed to think rationally or logically when he looked so damn sexy? It was all she could do not to give in to her sexual urges.

He spoke then, pulling her from her shameful thoughts. "I do not remember the first time. Would not have Viktor told me about it, I would not have known at all. I was with Andre and Viktor that time. At same bar. She and her friend, I think it was same one, they come to us, and I leave. Andre tell me later that he took girl home with him. That they end up talking about me and my contract."

"Contract?" she blurted, this was news to her. Andre hadn't said anything about a contract. True, he'd said she was obviously after money, but he'd never really gone into detail.

"Da. Yes, contract." Peter turned away from her, his back now to her as he went on, perhaps as though talking about money made him nervous. Did he think Harmony was only interested in his money? "I have, how you say, extended deal with the Slashers. Eight years for six million each. Andre is due to make similar deal, but has not yet. Said he and the girl talked about these things, and maybe that is why she came after me. Is useless though. I will not pay her anything."

Stunned by his revelation, Harmony pushed a button that she would quickly regret. "Not even if it meant she'd go away?"

Peter whirled on her then, his hands coming to either side of the chair arms that she sat in. She could see the raw energy in his eyes, sparks snapping like an exposed electrical current. "I am innocent!" He shouted, his breath hot on her face, she tried to make herself smaller, afraid of him for the first time. Sensing how he was making her feel, he pulled away quickly, rubbing his hands on his jean-clad thighs to prevent them from balling into fists again.

"Why would I pay someone if I did not do what she would accuse me of?" he asked more softly, though not waiting for an answer. "I have done nothing wrong, net. I will not pay for a mistake I have not made. Having a beer in a bar is not a crime no? Giving autograph to fan is not a crime, no? I will not pay for her to lie, would perhaps only encourage her to do it again."

Her mouth still open in shock as she leaned as far back into the chair as possible, she flinched when he approached her again, boldly skimming a finger down the side of her cheek. "I am sorry if I have scared you. This has been so hard for me. I need you Harmony, can not you see that?"

She shook her head, worrying her lower lip with her teeth as she gulped audibly and waited for him to make his next move.

He did not. He took a step back instead.

A shiver ran through her as his hands dropped back to his sides and the contact ended. And she could swear one side of his mouth quirked upward for the barest hint of a second, though as her eyes focused on him, she couldn't find any trace of amusement on his clearly pained face.

Sighing again as he watched her guarded expression, Peter said. "I will go."

Before she could say anything, though, Peter moved around her and walked out the door. Harmony took a deep breath, willing herself to move, but by the time she managed to get out of the chair and open the door, he was straddling the powerful motorcycle, the engine roaring to life as he backed it slowly out of the driveway.

Harmony called out to him, but as he was looking over his shoulder the whole time, he didn't see her, and couldn't hear her over the noise of the bike. She wanted to run to him, but her feet wouldn't move.

Had she blown her chance with Peter?

He shouldn't have gone there. Peter knew that now.

But he wasn't mistaken, she cared for him, at least there was that. For whatever reason, Harmony was having trouble admitting that she both cared for and believed in Peter. He figured it had to do with her ex-boyfriend, though why she couldn't see the stark differences between them he wasn't sure.

Peter had been honest from the start. While he hadn't told her what was going on, he had said he was innocent, and that she just needed to trust him. Trust the system. The law, though taking their time, was working through things, and in another week or two the results from the DNA test would be back, and his name would be cleared.

The press, though they still hounded him for an interview, had stopped crucifying him in the news. It seemed as if the whole world was holding their breaths, waiting for those damned test results. Hell, Peter could almost live with the fact that his life was never going to be the same. He knew he'd get booed by fans of other teams, the Slashers were the Stanley Cup winners, and because other fans hated them for that, they would latch onto this and run with it.

Peter might even be pelted with garbage, though that merely served to make the fans themselves look bad, and he could handle that too, but he couldn't live with the fact that Harmony didn't trust him. He needed her, couldn't she see that? Yes, he thought so. She'd been unusually quiet in his presence, but he heard loud and clear the things she hadn't said.

The way she'd looked at him, as though he were a tall glass of water and she as thirsty as if she had just come from a walk in the desert. Or how she had trembled when he'd touched her. Her eyes pleading with him. Harmony was not immune to him, if even only in the physical sense, he had an effect on her. He'd take that for now, because though he'd only been with a few women, he was more than confident in his ability to pleasure a woman, and with enough physical loving, perhaps Harmony would allow her heart to feel as well.

He hadn't pushed her then though. He would need to know that she believed in his innocence first. He sincerely hoped she wouldn't need the physical proof though. He would, of course, give it to her if that was the only way, be he knew it would hurt. If she couldn't take him at his word, it would probably crush him.

Harmony spent the rest of her day cursing herself and her stubborn pride. She believed Peter, at least, she thought she did. She was just so caught up in the past, and perhaps in the betrayal she felt when he refused to trust her, to tell her right away what had happened, that she couldn't seem to bring herself to accept the fact that Peter had done nothing wrong.

Unable to stand even her own company any longer, Harmony turned in early.

The next morning, Harmony let Lupus out the front door to grab the paper, she was surprised however when she heard a low throaty growl emanating from him as he stood at the edge of the driveway and proceeded to bark.

Calling to him, she saw a black sedan parked on the other side of the road, a tall thin man running in the direction of it. Lupus gave one more loud protest, then snatching the paper off the ground he trotted back inside depositing it at her feet. She had no idea who the man was, or why he was running in the opposite direction of her home, but she was glad just now for Lupus and his protective instincts.

She didn't give it another thought though once she closed the door and took the paper into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. After adding a fair amount of cream and sugar to her mug, Harmony sat down in her favorite chair in the living room, turned on the news and opened the paper. Her mouth dropping nearly to the floor as she read the latest about Peter and the assault case.

If she really had any doubt about his innocence, surely there was none of that now. But how had the reporter gotten this information? Surely Peter couldn't have known these things? Could he? No. And even if he had, Harmony was certain he wouldn't interfere in such a way. She had no doubt the Slashers organization would frown upon hashing things out in the media. They were a high-class group as it was, and would likely find the negative publicity damaging to their reputation.

Of course, all the writer had said was a source close to the hockey star, and a source involved with the accuser. Accuser, that's what they were calling her at this point, she wasn't even the victim anymore. At this rate, the next article published would be one where the writer would try to convince readers that Peter was the true victim here, and it certainly looked that way.

Harmony was confused, she hadn't wanted to believe Peter capable of such a thing, to begin with, and the "facts" hadn't really added up as they should have, there were too many holes, and yet, reading this, the truth blindly staring her in the face, she still wasn't one hundred percent satisfied. Not that she had any doubts about Peter's innocence now, but the hurt was still there, the pain in the knowledge that he felt he couldn't confide in her.

That she had to hear of it from the morning news was a betrayal of her trust. She didn't give a damn that it had still been an investigation at that point, she wasn't a member of the press after all. Had Peter thought she was going to expose him? Had he honestly felt she wouldn't have believed him? But she hadn't had she? No, not at first. So maybe Peter had every right to keep it from her. Gosh, this was too much.

Grabbing Lupus' leash, she clipped it onto him and headed out the door, she needed some air.

### Chapter 16

Andre's Revenge

Amanda couldn't believe it. That leech had turned on her! How dare he! Hadn't she promised him a huge payday? But no, the sniveling little bastard couldn't hold his liquor and had blabbed in his drunken stupor to the first person willing to listen. The press! How fucking dare he! She needed to do some damage control, and fast. But she didn't know how.

Her lawyer was still drawing up the necessary documents, preparing for a courtroom battle, Peter was to be served in the next day or so, but perhaps she should widen her net a little. Maybe it was time she squeezed another set of rich balls in her vice like grip. She had doubt that Andre had a hand in this. Peter certainly hadn't. She'd been right about him; he wasn't the kind of guy that was going to go head to head with her. He was too private, too subdued.

She didn't doubt that once she served him with the papers that he would call his lawyer and set up a meeting with her, get this over with and pay her whatever she wanted to just go away. And she would. Amanda would gladly rescind the whole thing if only he would pay her. Of course, she was hoping that would happen before the DNA results came back. She knew she didn't have a case, but she was counting on the bluff to work.

Looking at the article again, she sneered and ripped the paper in half. That rotten bastard. He had better hope he hadn't ruin things by running his stupid mouth.

"Hey Allen," Darla said, sliding back into the passenger seat and handing him a coffee, spreading a newspaper paper out in her lap. "What do you make of this?" she asked.

Allen took a sip from the styrofoam cup she gave him, wiping the residue from his lip and putting it in a holder before taking the paper and looking at it for himself. "Harrumph," he grumbled under his breath. "Looks like piss poor reporting to me."

Darla laughed for once. Ever since the case had been set on the back burner, pending DNA results, their partnership had progressed to something more comfortable. "I agree with you there, but that's not what I meant. Do you buy any of it? Or is it just the hockey player trying to tarnish her credibility, and ruin her chances of filing suit against him?"

"Are you really asking me for my opinion?"

She shrugged, "you were right. I should have listened to you, but I was so hell bent on him being guilty."

"I'm surprised you even bothered to admit that." Allen said, placing his hand over his heart, "And I'm touched that my opinion matters."

Darla smacked him playfully. She'd come to like the soggy old detective. She would be sorry when his partner came back from maternity leave and she was assigned to someone else. "So, what do you think?" she asked again after a slight silence fell between them and Allen continued to study the article.

The article in question was of the tabloid variety for sure, having been picked up as "associated press" but there was likely some truth to it if she were honest with herself. After talking to the hockey player's teammate, Darla knew the girl's story was a lie. There were pictures to prove that she had met him, but Darla would almost bet that he had never laid a hand on her otherwise.

As to how she had gotten the scratch on her leg or the dirt on her clothes was anybody's guess. Rough sex maybe? Perhaps she had taken a lover out back and then decided to claim Peter had assaulted her afterward? She didn't know. But the article was certainly taking a stab at it.

"Hockey star set up by infamous Puck Bunny!"

The headline read, and then went on to paint a rather unflattering picture of the "victim," saying that not only had she slept with a recent teammate of Peter's according to a source close to the hockey player, but that someone involved with the girl had admitted that the whole thing was a lie, that she had been angry when Peter had turned her down previously and that after learning he had just signed a big extension and was worth a lot of money, she had decided to accuse him of assault for a payoff.

The second source also indicated that Peter and his current teammate weren't her only targets. She had apparently slept with a couple of other hockey players as well. One that had been traded the year before, and another from a team up north that was staying in the city at the time for a game. It was pretty stupid in Darla's opinion. Sleeping with men because they're rich or famous? Was that what girls did for fun these days? And so what, Peter hadn't taken the bait, was that really any reason to accuse him of assault? Ruin his entire life because he wouldn't sleep with you? Had she no morals at all? What about a conscience?

Of course, how she had gotten into the other one's beds, to begin with, was beyond Darla. There was nothing that she could think of that was striking or unique about the girl. She'd been slim, with little to no breasts, or curves of any kind for that matter, and she had dull hair and common eyes.

She supposed with the right amount of makeup that she was passably pretty, but good enough to score a guy like Peter? Not likely. She had to admit that even she had found the young Russian attractive. And Andre, well, perhaps he was cute in his own way, though average really if she were honest, but even he was above some of the women he slept with, especially that Orsini girl. Then again, tail was tail.

Allen cleared his throat. "I think the young man is innocent. I thought so in the beginning, and this only reaffirms my suspicions. I don't know what happened in that alley, but I don't think he was involved in it."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too."

Allen looked at her skeptically.

"Alright, alright. So I thought he was guilty as sin at first." She exclaimed holding up her hands and turning her palms toward him in surrender, "after we talked to that Andre guy, though, I knew she was lying. It's like you said, it just didn't add up. I should have listened to you in the first place. Gosh, how many times am I going to have to kiss your ass before you let me forget it?"

He laughed, picking up his coffee and taking a gulp of the now tepid liquid. "At least until your nose is brown."

Darla wrinkled her nose, repulsed by the mere thought of what he was suggesting, then jabbed him in the gut again. Like most women, she hated to admit when she was wrong, but he didn't have to make her feel so damn contrite about it! "Piss off," she said teasingly.

Despite the renewed interest of the press who now sat like vultures both in front of and behind his home, hoping for any scrap of information he might toss their way, Peter braved the flashing lights and cameras thrust into his face, straddling the Ducati and backing it as quickly as he could without running anyone over out of the garage and down the driveway.

Denver Collins, the Slashers backup goaltender, being a single guy himself, had agreed to meet Peter at the practice rink on the outskirts of town to get in some ice time with him. Given the stress of the past few days, and the almost blatant rejection from Harmony, Peter felt the need to put some pucks into the back of the net, and Francois was still back in Canada with his wife Denise, who was due to give birth to the couple's first child any day now.

Peter was gone before any of the media types could get a bead on him, but he still made it a point to take a few back roads along the way. He was more than a little glad he'd bought the motorcycle now. Not only was the wind at his back a certain sense of freedom, but it made for one quick getaway too. Something he needed for sure. Never before in his life had Peter felt like more of a prisoner, or as though he were living in a fishbowl.

Growing up with a famous mother had prepared him somewhat for life in the spotlight, but nothing of this magnitude. In his first season with the Slashers, he'd pretty much been able to go anywhere he wanted to without being noticed. Unless of course, he went out with Dean or Donovan. Sure he got hit on every now and then, but the girls never seemed to have any idea who he was, at least not when he was out alone, or with Viktor.

Even though Viktor had been with the Slashers for seven years now, he wasn't as highly known around the league to fans. A key piece he might be, but he didn't have the same flashiness that players like say Patrick Kane or Sidney Crosby did, so he was pretty much able to come and go as he pleased. Hell, even Andre would likely have been able to do the same if he hadn't advertised himself so often. But Andre wanted the ladies to like him, to come to him and beg him to take them home, he didn't care if they were only interested in him because he was rich and famous, he was just looking to get laid, not married.

Now that he was receiving so much negative press, though, Peter doubted he'd ever be able to go out in public again without being noticed. He just hoped people could see through the lies, he certainly didn't want any trouble, and the thought of hiring a bodyguard depressed him.

Pulling up to the rink, he parked his motorcycle, and carrying his helmet with him, walked in and stopped at Jean's office. She looked up from her computer and smiled at him with such warmth that Peter couldn't help but sink into the chair in front of her desk.

"How are you holding up?" she asked him in Russian. Jean knew his limitations with the English language, and thus had no problem talking to him in his native tongue if it put him at ease. Seeing the strain in his eyes, the gauntness of his normally full and handsome face, she set all pretenses aside, there was no use placating him, and he was grateful to her for that.

Peter shrugged, "okay I guess."

Jean reached a hand across the desk, holding it out to him, and Peter took it without hesitation, she reminded him so much of his own mother, and he was glad to have her comfort just now.

"I read the latest," she said, narrowing her eyes just a little at him, though her voice held a lilt of laughter in it, "and I know you did not have a hand in it, but you let me know when that little scoundrel Andre gets back in town. I need to have a word with him."

Chuckling, as he knew exactly what she was talking about, and had in fact figured out that Andre was behind the entire article, though he had no idea how that was possible, Peter nodded. "I will have him call you when I speak to him again."

She smiled then, "are you really okay?"

"I think I will be. I came in to practice with Denver, but I wanted to stop and ask if you had spoken to the lawyer, I have not heard anything more about the case, and I was wondering if the test results had come in yet?"

Frowning, she shook her head, then clicked her mouse and brought up a page on her computer looking at some notes she had made on the very subject. "I talked to Ms. Paulino the other day, she hasn't heard anything from the detectives, but she spoke to someone in the crime lab, they should have a report by next week. I am so sorry about all this Peter. I know the league has been coming down pretty hard on all of us lately, insisting we instruct you gentlemen in the proper behavior when you are away from the arena, but I do not see what good it would do in this situation. Do they honestly want you to ignore your fans?"

"I understand what you mean." Peter agreed. If it had been different, if he had been like Andre, picking random girls up and taking them home with him, he would understand why it would be frowned upon, why it might be considered his fault. But he'd done no more than give a girl an autograph and a picture. What would they have done to him had he been rude to a fan? Surely they didn't approve of such behavior either.

Perhaps he needed to take more precautions in the future, maybe having an entourage or a bodyguard wasn't such a bad idea, at least out in public. He knew that Andre had a pretty sophisticated camera system installed in the condo the day he'd moved in, at least that's what he had said. No girl was going to wring him for money, he taped all of his encounters.

Of course, as it stood right now, Peter didn't need to get that drastic, not only did he have a roommate that could vouch for his activities inside the house, but no woman in her right mind would want to get close to him with this hanging over his head. Just like Harmony.

Jean picked up on the nuances of his facial expressions, realizing that whatever he was thinking about was causing him distress, he was one of those heart on their sleeves kind of people, easily read, and it broke her heart.

Denver poked his head in at that moment, cutting off whatever Jean had been about to say. "Hey Pete." he said, waving to Jean as well, "you ready?"

Peter nodded, stood and then bent over to give Jean a kiss on the top of the hand that he still held. "Thank you," he said, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Jean wondered what, if anything she could possibly do for Peter. A part of her was grateful to Andre for his part in all this, though she knew once the commissioner, and the GM for that matter got wind of it, there would be questions to answer, and she hoped she would be able to protect Peter as well as Andre when that shit hit the fan. But as much doubt as this latest article had probably cast on the girl's claims, it strengthened it in other ways.

People, the ones that thought Peter guilty on principle, due to the mere fact that he was rich and quasi-famous, were bound the think he was responsible for this, and that his sole purpose was to slander the young lady and sully her reputation. She figured that by tomorrow there would be another article, refuting all of this, or perhaps claiming that Andre had wronged her as well.

Jean sighed, it was a never ending battle at this point, and Peter was the one that was continuing to suffer. She hated it. Jean could remember the day she had met Peter, he'd been so shy and quiet, just looking around and trying to study his surroundings.

His mother, being who she was, had given him some exposure, but not nearly of the same variety. His English had been poor at best, though he clearly understood more than he was willing to let on, rather it was his speech that was stunted. For that, Jean and Viktor had been his best allies. He had roomed with a family for the first six months or so, then Viktor and Andre had taken him under their wings, and slowly he'd come out of his shell.

He was such a sweet boy, and reminded Jean often of her own son, their coloring was even similar, though Jeff, her boy, was nearly a decade older than Peter and lived a lifestyle far different than even Jean herself. Jeff lived in California as a screenplay writer while his wife was a casting director.

Even still, Peter didn't just remind Jean of her beloved son, he was in her mind, one of hers. Peter's mother, whom she'd met during the playoffs last year when she'd come to watch a game or two and visit, had been so pleased to know that Jean was watching out for her little boy. A woman with substance she had said, a woman who could speak the language and understood the lifestyle.

Jean felt like a failure though, she knew it wasn't her fault, but somehow she still wished she had been able to prevent this. She had no idea how to truly comfort the boy, and it broke her into little pieces.

After a twenty minute workout, in which he and Denver took turns spotting each other as they lifted weights, then did some squats and lunges together, all the while listening to some heavy metal band to ensure there was no need to talk, the two hit the rink.

Peter skated up and down the ice, flying back and forth, stopping and turning on a dime, shredding the ice under his skates. He weaved between cones that had been set up for him, and practiced his stick handling capabilities as Denver stretched and warmed up between the pipes. Signaling that he was finally ready, Peter played around with the puck a little.

Flipping it up onto the end of his stick, he bounced it a couple of times before letting it fall back to the ice and laying on the fancy footwork as he made his way from one end of the ice to the goal where Denver steadily tracked his movements.

Denver was a good goalie, he was in the second year of his four-year contract, and though he was a backup, he could have been a starter for almost any other team. He understood his place, though, and absolutely respected Francois. During the regular season, Denver got plenty of ice time and likewise, he knew that Francois' time with the team was nearing an end. Everyone did.

It wasn't that France was too old or anything, on the contrary, he was young, not even thirty yet, but the big goaltender was facing the last season of his contract, and with so many players needing new deals next season as well, it was looking more and more like France would be dealt to another team. Denver would still have another year after that on his contract and would probably get the nod from there on out.

From behind the crease, Denver watched him go left, then right, sliding within the folds of the net to block whatever powerful shot Peter made. Faking it once, then twice, Peter let loose with a backhander that pinged off the right post and shot up against the boards. Cursing, he glided across the ice towards it and settled the rolling puck down.

Denver slapped his stick against the ice, "come on Pete, make me work for it," he mocked, smiling antagonistically behind his mask.

Peter grumbled, but after circling back out to center ice, he made his way across the blue line and towards the goal where Denver trembled with anticipation, his big body moving agilely from side to side as he followed the puck.

Winding up, Peter laid a brilliant slap shot at his doorstep, one that Denver nearly missed, turning it aside at the last minute. Rather than scooping it into his glove hand, though, since it was just the two of them and no one was around to blow a whistle, he used his stick to slide it down the ice and just wide of the net standing empty at the other end.

Peter sneered at him, but quickly flew down the ice gathering the puck in again and heading back for another round.

They did this back and forth type of game for a couple of hours, taking a few breaks in between to refuel. By the end of their impromptu practice, Peter had put as many into the back of the net as Denver had blocked. Calling it a draw, they headed for the locker room to strip into gym shorts and t-shirts before working out with a punching bag and doing some low impact cardio.

A quick shower once they'd finished and they were saying their goodbyes and heading out.

### Chapter 17

You have been Served

Peter had needed this. Something to occupy his time, exert some physical effort and get Harmony off his mind, even if it was just for a little while. Denver had agreed to do this again next week if he wanted to, and after speaking to Andre during one of their breaks, Peter had set it up. Andre was cutting his visit short and would be back early next week, having decided he could use a little tuning up before training camp hit as well.

Peter wondered if his friend was being completely honest with him, given the fact that next week was Andre's turn with the Stanley Cup, but he missed his friend and therefore wasn't going to argue with him if he wanted to cut his trip short. Viktor wasn't due back for at least another two weeks, and though he had Sadie to fill the void, it wasn't the same. Peter was grateful to his teammates, all of them had been more than supportive, but he sorely missed Harmony, and would have given most anything at this point to see her again.

As he approached his motorcycle a few minutes later, a gentleman emerged from a beat up Chevy parked next to him. "Petrovsky Petrovic?" he asked.

"Da. I am Peter," he replied hesitantly. He didn't see any cameras, but he was suspicious all the same. "You are with the press no?"

The gentlemen, dressed casually in tattered jeans and a t-shirt, shook his bald head, the sunlight glinting off the smooth surface of it. "No sir, I'm not with the press." He reached into his car then, extracting a large envelope and thrusting it into Peter's hands.

"You want autograph?" Peter nearly grumbled, keeping his annoyance in check. The last thing he needed was to piss off a fan.

But the man shook his head again, saying "you have been served," the moment Peter closed his hands on the envelope. Then he fled to the safety of his running car, something Peter hadn't noticed and sped out of the parking lot.

Served? What the hell?

Nervous, as much as truly annoyed at this point, Peter headed back inside, walking into Jean's office and laying the envelope, still closed, on her desk in front of her.

"Man give to me just now. He say, I have been served. What is meaning of this?" He asked, still holding his emotions at bay as Jean looked up at him in stunned silence before opening the clasp on the back of the envelope and sliding its contents onto the desk.

Jean took a moment to check out the documents, her brow furrowing as she read each page, going over everything a second time to be sure she hadn't missed anything, then she met Peter's gaze, and the painful emotion that stared back at him was enough to make his stomach turn.

Peter felt sick. He had never seen Jean so stricken, not even at the press conference had her steel reserve wavered. This must be bad.

"Oh, Peter." She began, laying the papers on the desk and removing her glasses before rubbing at her eyes. "You're being sued."

Harmony had thought about Peter all night once he had left. And after going over the latest article several times today, she knew, that in so many aspects, he was right. She had been wrong to suggest that he pay her off. Was that not what this entire thing was about? Was it not possible, no, likely, that this girl had fabricated everything just to get money out of Peter? And if he paid her, would that not, as he had said, only encourage her, and perhaps others to continue to try these tactics?

The world had changed so much in the last decade. Years ago false claims of rape and sexual assault were unheard of. But the magnitude with which women accused men of such crimes these days was staggering. Of course, it wasn't just cases like these that were becoming more commonplace, it went far beyond rape or assault in the world of get rich quick schemes.

There were people that bought run down houses for near to nothing, did as little as possible to pass inspections and then turned around and profited greatly on the naivety of others. There were pyramid scams, western union scams, and fraudulent check scams where people convinced others to send them money or cash a check and send back the remainder.

And then there were personal injury claims galore. People causing accidents on the road, or slip and falls on properties belonging to the wealthy. Blackmailing was at an all-time high. Society was changing. Harmony felt empathy for women who had actually suffered at the hands of others, because of girls like this one, the police, and the criminal justice system were hard pressed to find ways to actually win cases and get justice for those that were actually victims.

It seemed as though hockey players and for that matter athletes and actors everywhere were the newest targets for scam artists.

With those thoughts circulating in her mind, Harmony gathered the courage needed to drive over to Peter's house. It was time she apologized for her lack of support.

She was not, however, prepared for the onslaught of reporters she had to face as she pulled up into his driveway at the back of the alley. They swarmed her car, snapping off pictures and hovering in front of her door as though waiting for a comment. Alarmed, her first thought was to leave, back out of the driveway and just make a break for it.

But there were several people behind her car as well, effectively blocking her exit.

Peter drove up then, the sound of his powerful bike scattering the reporters just enough that she was able to jump out of her car and run into the opening garage before her. Peter hit the button on the remote, the door beginning to close before he was even inside himself. As he pulled off his helmet, shaking out his hair, the damp curls parting when he ran his fingers through them, he took one look at Harmony and smiled.

Panting from the unexpected exertion required to get into the closing garage and away from all the people outside, Harmony met his eyes and tried a smile of her own. She noticed however that the sensuous curve of his lips was gone, he studied her for a moment before turning and removing a large envelope from beneath the seat of his motorcycle.

His gaze level once more with hers, he said, "I am happy you are here... but perhaps now is not the best time."

Harmony was at once both hurt and furious with Peter. "Well I'm not going back out there!" she snapped, pointing towards the door of the garage.

Peter nodded, forcing a smile as he stepped past her and unlocked the door to let them in.

Harmony wasn't sure what had gotten into Peter just now, for a second he'd seemed like himself, his mouth turned up in one of those devilish grins of his, but once he'd pulled whatever that was he was holding out of his bike, he'd become so stoically dispassionate that it frightened her. She had yet to see him appear so indifferent.

Was it because of yesterday? And just what did that envelope he was so closely guarding hold? The test results perhaps?

"Peter," she said, her hand falling short as she reached out for him, "I uh."

He turned to face her, setting the envelope on the counter in the kitchen and pulling a soda from the fridge. He held it out to her in offering to which she shook her head, and with a shrug, he said, "what is it Harmony?"

Harmony couldn't seem to take her eyes off the yellow envelope lying on the counter long enough to answer him, though, her curiosity driving her mad. Following the direction of her interest, Peter scoffed, finally gaining her attention. "What is that?" she asked carefully once she caught sight of his icy glare.

Peter scoffed again, "I am being sued," he replied with such malice, the strength of it nearly knocking the breath from her lungs.

"Sued?" she repeated, the single word sounding so hollow and yet the implication of its meaning far from lost on her.

"Sued," he reaffirmed, his tone laced with an undercurrent of anger still, and the coldness of his glare never wavering as he continued to look at her. "Andre too."

She gasped, "Andre too?"

He lifted his broad shoulders, and then indicating with his head in the direction of the envelope that sat ominously on the counter between them, said: "you may read if you would like."

She didn't know what to think. Hell, she didn't know what to feel. A part of Harmony wanted so desperately to go over to him and put her arms around him, but she had to admit, that she was afraid. Not of Peter, she knew he would never physically hurt her, she feared instead that he would move away from her. That he wouldn't welcome such comfort, that was crazy, though!

And yet, she couldn't force herself to move to him. She found herself reaching for the envelope instead.

Peter sat down at the breakfast bar as she opened it, watching through his now lowered lashes as she read and absorbed the contents of it. Her eyes flew up in shock to meet his once she was finished. She couldn't believe it! How was this possible? Given the facts of the case, which she now didn't doubt herself, how could this girl think to win?

"But how is this possible?" she heard herself asking.

She didn't think he was going to answer her, but after letting out a rather resounding sigh, he did. "I do not understand this myself. Jean has said we will speak with the lawyer tomorrow. But there is chance I am told, that she could win."

Shaking her head as though she hadn't heard him correctly, for surely she hadn't, Harmony stammered, "she could what? How could she win Peter? How is that even possible." She began to pace the length of the kitchen now, ignoring the dog that padded softly behind her. "Why is she doing this now?" she wondered out loud. "The investigation isn't even complete; wouldn't she benefit from waiting for the results? Seeing this through to trial? I don't get it." Harmony seemed unable to stop the thoughts as they formed into words, spilling from her still open mouth.

Touched by her concern, and the simple fact that she had sought him out, Peter came up behind her, startling her briefly as he placed a hand on her shoulder in an effort to stop her from pacing a path into the professionally distressed floors.

She whirled around to find him mere inches from her, their faces so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips, her skin tingling as she inhaled the earthy masculine scent of his cologne. She placed a hand on his chest to brace herself, and the heat of his body instantly singed her. She gasped.

Unable to restrain himself when her lips parted and she inhaled quickly as their bodies made contact, Peter lowered his mouth to hers, snuffing out any protest she may have thought to make.

Harmony hadn't dared, though, the instant his full sensuous lips brushed hers, she was lost. Her arms intertwined around his neck, her fingers digging into the back of his dampened curls. Their bodies melded to each other, Peter groaned as her breasts flattened and pressed against his chest, his hands snaking up underneath the fabric of her shirt, fingers digging into the silky flesh of her back.

As her knees betrayed her, suddenly going weak, Harmony leaned heavily into him, Peter placed one hand under her legs, lifting her into his arms and setting her gently on the couch, their fevered kisses never ceased, though. Peter instantly had his hands along the curves of her body. While Harmony continued to stroke her fingers through his hair, twirling the curls around them, moaning once, deeply into his mouth as his hands rubbed against the mound of her womanhood, the fabric of her jeans creating a delicious heat and friction.

Thought and logic fled from their minds, Peter was too keyed up and drunk on the taste of her to care about the reporters outside or the papers that told him he was being sued for millions of dollars for something he hadn't done. Harmony was so lost in the passion and the feel of his strong body on hers to care about anything else. It didn't matter that some twit had accused him of the unspeakable, nor did she care that he was being sued, or that as of tomorrow her face was likely to be splashed across every possible media outlet.

Right now, all that mattered to the two of them was each other.

Harmony's heart was beating to the rhythm of a thousand drums as Peter slid his hands all over her body. Though they were mad in the exploration of one another, their tongues both diving in and out, circling each other like two dogs on the attack, they neither cared nor thought to rush things. Peter was content with the feel of her heavy breasts in his hands, rubbing the soft fabric of her blouse over her puckered nipples.

And Harmony, finally pulling one hand away from his silken head of hair, moved between them, taking him in her hands, and rubbing his thick shaft through the stiff denim, delighting in the hardness of him. Peter broke contact then, groaning as he moved further down her body, his mouth wreaking a new havoc against the pulse beating at the base of her throat.

He nipped and kissed along the smooth column, his tongue flicking out like a snake's to sooth the subtle sting of his teeth as they scraped against her satiny skin. Harmony arched under his touch, pressing harder as she continued to stroke him through his pants. Peter's hands traveled lower still, stopping at the snap of her jeans, where he pushed one hand between her waistband and her now trembling flesh.

While one hand feathered over her moist center, his fingers delving into the heat of her body and stirring up a desire more intense than she had ever known, Peter used his other hand to knead and massage her bosom, continuing to kiss along her collarbone and down to her swollen breasts.

When it felt as though she might explode, Harmony began tearing at his pants, pulling the button loose and sliding the zipper down, she reached into his boxers and took the full length of him into her palm. His smooth heat pulsing as she squeezed and stroked it.

The fever between them reached critical mass, threatening to incinerate them both, and before either of them could contemplate what they were doing, clothes were removed and strewn about the floor. Sadie, having been kicked at after several attempts to join them on the couch, sniffed at the discarded clothes as they fell on top of her, and then with a soft doggy snort, headed up the stairs and away from the writhing and now grunting pair on the couch.

After guiding the length of him to her soft opening, where his bulbous head was now probing urgently, Harmony moved her body in a way that kept him just out of reach, her body becoming heated and moist with every missed stroke. She ran her hands along his muscled back, feeling with a sense of delicious greed the way his skin quivered under her touch.

Peter continued to pay special attention to her breasts and puckered pink nipples as Harmony moved agilely underneath him, it was all he could do not to beg while he continued to probe the core of her passion. He was driven to the brink every time he managed to slip inside of her an inch only to be forced out as she moved away. It was maddening, and yet such a sinfully magnificent sensation that he was loathed to stop her.

In the throes of passion, though, their little game of cat and mouse became too much, all at once Harmony wrapped her legs around him, and as he prepared to slide into her yet again, she forced him to the hilt, rising on her elbows to take all of him into her body.

As the heat of her sheath enveloped him, Peter's head fell back with a groan and he began pumping himself into her. Sure and slow at first, then wild and fast as she lifted her body to meet him, bucking and arching her back when the first wave of pleasure rolled over her, forcing the air from her lungs in its ferocity.

Peter felt her spasm around him, her body clamping onto his as the climax shook her like a capsized boat in a violent storm. In another minute his own release overtook him, pulling every last ounce of energy he could expend from within him, leaving him to collapse on top of her.

Harmony welcomed his weight as she floated back down to earth. Her mind still fogged in pleasure, she used her hands to stroke long lines down his now dampened back, his muscles shivering and rippling under the pads of her fingers, causing him to jerk and spasm while her Kegel muscles clamped around the still hardened length of him. His chest heaved as he tried to pull in oxygen, his cheek pillowed on her breast, the impossible angle at which he was bent beginning to take its toll.

They lay that way for a while longer, Peter finally forcing himself to get up for fear he might have been hurting her.

Harmony grabbed her clothes then, heading into the powder room to clean up a little. When she came back out, Peter already had his pants back on, and was pulling his shirt over his hard packed abdomen, despite feeling sated by their lovemaking, watching the fabric slide over his glistening abs made her mouth water. She could spend all day naked in his arms had the circumstances been different.

And though she was not ashamed of what had just happened between them, she would in fact not regret it in the least, Harmony knew she could not lose herself so easily again. Peter had a lot on his plate, and she need not complicate things by distracting him from his problems.

Peter shook his head then, noticing the pain and the doubt in her eyes, "no Harmony," he said, moving to her side and gathering her closer, his hands steady on her shoulders as he laid his forehead against hers. "Do not think badly of what we have done. It was beautiful."

She smiled as he pressed his lips to hers, her tongue slipping out to gracefully tangle with his own. Groaning, he pulled away, adjusting the tightness of his jeans as he took a step back, "do you see what you can do to me?" he laughed, raking a hand through his hair.

Harmony placed a hand to her lips, smothering her own laughter as it fought its way to the surface. "I don't regret what we just did Peter." She assured him, regaining her composure and reaching out to take one of his hands. "I just don't want to cause any more problems for you, there's so much going on already, and with those reporters outside..."

Rubbing his thumb over the inside of her palm, Peter nodded, sadness touching the depths of his clear blue eyes, "they will not stop, they come every day and take their pictures." Peter looked down, almost ashamed now, color creeping into his cheeks. "I think they will put your picture in the paper too. I feel so badly for this."

Crouching down so that she could catch his eyes, Harmony smiled weakly, "it's not your fault Peter, you didn't ask me to come here, I came on my own, and I got out of my car all by myself too."

"But it is not fair," he argued.

"Nothing ever is. What are you going to do about this lawsuit Peter? What can I do to help?"

His head jerked up, Harmony's smile touched her eyes, and her hand squeezed his gently. The tightness in his chest, the sense of despair he had been feeling now for weeks seem to dissipate even if only a little.

"I will let the lawyer handle it," he said, though hope surged through him now. Perhaps it was not too late for him and Harmony after all. Had they not just made the most passionate love there on the couch?

"Is he any good?"

Her words cut into his thoughts, "Huh?"

"Your lawyer, is he any good?"

"Da. She is the best."

Harmony seemed surprised by his answer. "A woman? Your lawyer is a woman?"

"Yes," he said with a nod, was there a hint of jealousy in her voice? "She has been on, how say, retainer? With the Slashers for a few years now, I am told she is one of the best defense lawyers in the state. Jean has said she would make me to look very sympathetic, is the word? I think that is how it was said, she would help them to see me as I am and not as how that girl would have them think."

"That's good. That's really good. And she knows about the lawsuit?"

"Da." He smiled then, an easy smile as his lips curved upward, the fullness of them and his cheeks seeming to be an almost bashful gesture.

It was seductive in itself, Harmony looked unconsciously to the couch where they had just made love, then back at Peter, blushing as his eyes penetrated hers, his lips parting as the smile widened. Trying desperately to take her mind away from the gutter that it was so ruthlessly attempting to crawl back into, Harmony went to the window, looking out and noticing that the driveway was clear.

How long had she been here? She didn't know, she couldn't remember what time it had been when she'd gotten here, but the reporters were gone, and if she didn't get out of here soon, she'd end up on her back again underneath Peter.

Not that the thought wasn't appealing, but if Peter were to go and see his lawyer tomorrow as he said he was, he'd need the rest of the night to get himself together. Best if she was not in his way, no matter how tempting the distraction would be.

She turned to find him watching her, his lips folding up in that seductive way of his as their gazes met, color stealing into her cheeks. "I should go," she said forlornly.

Peter's smiled fell, his brow furrowing, "please will not you stay?" he asked pleadingly, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders as his eyes searched her face.

Harmony wanted to say yes, her body shivered under his touch, his gaze warmed her to the core as the iciness of it deepened to the color of the ocean. "I can't," she heard herself say, and before she could bare to have him protest, she wrenched away from his grasp and bolted out the door.

### Chapter 18

Calling the Bluff

"Un-fucking-believable!" Andre shouted, bursting through the doors of the lawyer's office just as Peter and Jean sat down in front of Erin Paulino's desk.

Peter stood, walking towards him and giving him a brotherly hug, though he fumed all the same. "Is good to see you back Andre. But why have you come early?" He asked, trying to help Andre get himself under control.

The two men took their seats, Peter, in front of the desk again and Andre at the back of the room, all eyes on him as the other three occupants waited for his reply.

"I got word from Jean yesterday that this pathetic attempt at a lawsuit involved me too, so I caught the first flight out this morning. This bitch won't get away with this!" He growled, pinning the lawyer in his dark gaze.

Ever the professional, though, Erin cleared her throat, nodded and looked down at several papers on her desk. "It was good of you to come Andre, certainly makes things easier for me. And I understand you're angry, but please allow me to do my job from here on out." Looking up from her blotter, she bore her eyes into his, her voice daring him to challenge her. "You wouldn't be involved in this at all you know, if you'd just let me do my job, to begin with."

Andre snorted in derision, earning him a pointed look from Jean as well.

Nonplussed Erin continued, "She's trying to call our bluff. I'm extremely familiar with the lawyer she's hired, and his tactics, I can assure you, they're just trying to push you into mediation."

"How can you know this?" Peter asked, nervously looking from Erin to Jean.

"I've been at this game for over a decade now Peter, and I haven't gotten where I am simply by luck. By serving you now, before the DNA results have been released, they're hoping you'll take their offer to seek out a mediator and avoid going to court." Folding her hands on top of the desk, Erin did her best to speak slowly, pausing often enough that Peter was able to follow what she was saying without having Jean translate for him. "A court date couldn't be scheduled until sometime in September, the docket is pretty full as of now, so as I've said, by serving you now, they're hoping to scare you into a deal, and avoid court altogether."

"And what if you are wrong? What if I say no to this mediation and they want to go to court?"

"They won't."

Andre piped up then sensing how deep Peter's concerns went on the matter, "humor us will you?"

"Very well," Erin remarked, her tone clipped. "I've read over the police reports thus far, their case is circumstantial at best, and once the results from the DNA test prove that Peter didn't have any contact with the lady below the waist, it becomes a he-said-she-said. Though I understand that the burden of proof is much less in a civil situation, I can assure you they won't have enough to go forward, especially not with your testimony Andre and that of her other recent indiscretions."

"Alright," Andre said, looking to Peter who nodded that he understood and was satisfied with the answer. "And what about her claims against me? Slander and defamation of character?"

"She isn't likely to try one without the other."

In an office downtown, Amanda Orsini sat tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair she occupied, listening as her good for nothing lawyer frowned and said "I see, I see," over and over. She was pissed off, to say the least.

Though her name had been kept out of the media thus far, she'd somehow been found out and had been receiving threatening letters at home and at work. She was lucky she hadn't been fired yet.

This was turning into a nightmare. Travis had backed out on her, demanding that he be left out, though that was easy enough to explain away, she'd just say he couldn't handle the tragic incident and that they had broken up, but Cassie seemed to be getting cold feet as well. And that just wouldn't do. She needed to find a way to get her star witness back on her side. Money was no longer a tempting commodity, perhaps blackmail would be a good enough incentive.

Placing the phone in its cradle, her bone-headed lawyer folded his hands on top of the desk and looked at her disdainfully, his lips pressed into a tight line. She knew she should've contacted someone else, but he'd been so eager to take her case, of course, she suspected he didn't believe her in the least, and with how his eyes roamed her face now, so indifferent as they were, she feared she might just need to hire some other schmuck before this whole thing was over.

"Well?" she huffed.

The suit startled, grimacing as he tried to regain his composure. "Ms. Orsini," he began in that tight-lipped way of his. "I'm afraid they have declined to go to arbitration. It looks as if we'll have to try a different approach."

"So we go to court. No big deal."

Amanda's off-handed manner seemed to shock him, and she slowly realized he had never intended it to go this far. What was it with this guy?

He shook his head, his snooty Harvard law school attitude creeping into his features. "It would appear that they have a wealth of people willing to come forward on Mr. Petrovic's behalf, I'm afraid it wouldn't be wise to trot this out in front of a judge."

"Seriously? You're kidding right?" Amanda stood, placing her hands on his desk in front of her and staring him straight in the face, his beady little eyes widening in fear. "I have a damn star witness who's willing to testify that she saw Peter assault me damn it!"

Adjusting his glasses, the lawyer pushed a few feet away from the desk and sat back in his seat, attempting to put a little distance between them. "Is that not a different account than what she told the police?"

"What difference does that make? She'll say whatever I want her to say!"

"Look, Ms. Orsini, I'm afraid that given the nature of this case, and the people involved, I think it best that you find yourself another lawyer." He flinched suddenly then as Amanda slammed her palms down on the desk and backed away. "I am not prepared to take a case of this magnitude to court. I'm sorry. Really, I am."

He was sorry? Oh, fuck him! She thought to herself, knocking over her chair and slamming the door behind her as she walked out of his office. That's what she got for looking a lawyer up in the yellow pages online. To hell with him! She'd find herself a real shark, someone who wasn't afraid to draw a little blood!

Damn Travis and that fucking Andre Lepowski, this was all their fault!

Running through the daily reports and ensuring that everything was accurate, Harmony let her mind drift a little and began to wonder how Peter was making out with his lawyer. Thoughts of the previous night's lovemaking snaking their way in as she counted down one of the cashier drawers and finished off the deposit.

All at once she was assailed by images of Peter before her, on top of her, inside her. She gasped as her body began to react. Shaking her head, as if the near violent motion could loosen the grasp her fantasies had on her. She gripped the edge of the counter with her fingers, willing her heart rate to slow down, begging her mind to think of something else, anything else except Peter. Then came images of Peter behind bars, of cameras and microphones, flashed in her face. It was one disturbing image after another.

And that's how Chelsea found her, bent over the counter gasping for air and trembling.

"Harmony!" she cried, prying her hands off the counter and leading her into her office where she eased her down into a chair and locked the door behind her. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? Do I need to call 911?"

As Chelsea's words, along with the shock on her worn face broke through the gripping daydream she was having, Harmony took a few deep breaths, gulping in one lungful of air after another, then placed her head between her knees and counted to ten. What was the matter with her? She'd never had a panic attack in her life! So why the hell was she having one now?

Peter.

That one word flew through her brain like an osprey diving for its prey. Swift and cunning. She had finally admitted to herself that she could believe Peter's innocence, but rather than tell him that, she'd choked. Sure, she'd told him she wanted to help, and yes, she'd made love to him with an amazing amount of passion, but she hadn't told him she believed him. Surely he deserved to know that?

And why hadn't she? Why couldn't she say the words? Was she still having a hard time accepting it? Or was it the newest wrinkle, his being sued? Or maybe it was the reporters, because not only had they taken plenty of pictures yesterday, splashing them all the papers this morning with one headline or another, but now they were camping out in front of her house!

She had never imagined they could turn something beautiful, like what she had with Peter, into something so ugly. That had to be it. It just had to be! No way would she panic just thinking about making love to Peter! Hell, she dreamt about it every night, and she certainly hadn't woken up scared then! No indeed! She'd wake up flushed and feeling every bit as if Peter had truly been there ravishing her body.

It had to be the cameras, the way people now wondered how she could support a rapist! Damn it, Peter was NOT a rapist! Even if he had assaulted this girl, and she knew without a doubt now that he wasn't capable of such a thing, rape and assault were not the same thing! You could hug a person, and if they didn't welcome such affections it would be considered assault, but that was certainly a far cry from physically forcing yourself on and into a person!

Calmer now as she worked through her problems, and figured out just what it was that had triggered her panic, Harmony ran a hand through her hair and sighed, looking up at Chelsea, who crouched vigilantly at her side, one hand rubbing up and down her back.

"I'm fine." She managed in a somewhat shaky voice.

"You're sure?" Chelsea prodded, lifting Harmony's chin in her free hand. "If I didn't know better I'd say you were having a panic attack. A dandy one at that." Her eyes were little slits as she studied Harmony's reaction.

"I was actually, but you snapped me out of it."

"Maybe I should take you to the hospital just in case."

Harmony lifted her chin indignantly, no way was she going to any hospital. "I'm fine Chelsea. I've gotten myself under control now. Maybe I'll go home and rest, but I'm fine."

Nodding, though she didn't buy it for a minute, Chelsea thought about how best to approach things. She'd known Harmony for a long time now, but damned if she knew how to get her to open up. The girl's own mother hadn't been able to, though to be fair, she hadn't wanted to either.

With a sigh, Chelsea said, "why don't you tell me what's on your mind? Maybe it'll help if you say it out loud." She stood and pulled up the other chair in the office, sitting across from Harmony and hoping she wasn't overstepping her boundaries.

Harmony took her by surprise, though, crossing her arms in front of her and asking, "do you love my father?"

Stunned, Chelsea blinked a couple of times before answering. "You weren't panicking about your father and I Harmony, what's this really about?"

"No, I wasn't, but answer the question anyways. Do you love my father?"

"Of course I do, but what has this got to do with anything?"

"How long have you loved him?" Harmony demanded, side stepping Chelsea's question once again. She wasn't ready to talk about it yet, and her father's relationship with Chelsea had been on her mind more often than not when she was in his company.

"What?" Chelsea gasped. "What's the meaning of this?"

"Please," she pled, "I promise I'll tell you everything, just cut me some slack okay? I need a minute."

With a nod, Chelsea's shoulders heaved in a defeated sigh. Perhaps it was time she was honest with someone too. "I met your father when I ran the diner, he was a frequent customer. I loved him on sight."

Harmony's eyes widened, she hadn't expected that. "Did you two ever have an affair?"

Truly shocked and utterly repulsed by the thought of that question, Chelsea shook her head vehemently. "Never. I knew he was married, and I would never have disrespected your mother that way." She looked down at her hands then, playing with her fingers as she spoke. "I think she knew, though, your mother. She loved your father Harmony, even if she didn't know how to show it."

Harmony placed an encouraging hand on Chelsea's, a warm smile touching her lips as the two women looked each other in the eyes.

"When the diner closed, your father offered me a job at the market, and I was delighted. He was such a charming man, he simply fascinated me. And when your mother died, I'll admit, though shamefully, that I didn't mourn her passing."

"Thank you for being honest with me Chelsea, I'm really happy my father has you."

The women gripped each other's hands in a token of love and friendship, "thank you." Chelsea whispered, on the brink of tears. She'd always wanted to have a relationship like this with Harmony, and since she was dating her father, she couldn't be happier at the way it was finally developing. "Now tell me what's been going on. I know you're under a lot of stress, I can see how much of a toll it's taking on you."

Resigned to having drawn things out long enough, Harmony opened up for the second time that week. But unlike Kate who had held back and made her come to her own conclusions, Chelsea spoke more freely of her advice and opinions.

"As far as the reporters go, I've never seen someone so courageous, or outspoken. Perhaps you give them a piece of your mind? As for Peter, tell him the truth, he deserves to hear it from you, and I can only imagine how he has been suffering without your support."

She was right of course. Harmony had the biggest mouth of anyone she'd ever known. So why was she so afraid of defending herself to these vultures lurking about in front of her house? Better yet, she should give them something to chew on and then send Lupus out after them. Surely he'd clear them off once and for all.

And as for Peter indeed. She needed to tell him she believed in him, and she needed to do it soon. But when? Her father's birthday was this weekend, and the whole store had planned to throw him a little party on Sunday, which she needed to get ready for on Saturday. Maybe Monday then?

Time was moving too swiftly, and it wasn't going to stop for her!

Peter felt better after having talked to the lawyer, and having both Jean and Andre there for support was truly a godsend. He didn't know what he would have done if he were facing this alone. Of course, knowing Andre was pretty much going to be beside him during this entire ordeal gave him mixed emotions all around.

It was nice to know he wasn't alone, that someone else was involved, but at the same time, he knew Andre was due for a good tongue lashing from the Slashers organization, who was luckily able to keep his involvement from reaching the ears of the commissioner, otherwise he might have faced some sort of legal recourse as well. Surely there was something in their contracts that forbid them from getting involved in these sorts of situations.

But Andre was his friend and cared about him in the same way that one might care for a brother. So Peter was grateful for what he had done, even if he knew Andre shouldn't have and could have landed himself in some really hot water on his behalf.

After leaving Ms. Paulino's office, he and Andre had stopped at a little diner in town for a quick bite to eat, and luckily no one bothered to approach them. Most of the patrons were older, so Peter figured they either didn't know who they were or they didn't care. Either way, it suited him just fine.

"Hey Pete," Andre said in between bites of a sandwich he had ordered. "I still get the cup next week, and I thought maybe we could take it to Molly's together, you know, since you didn't spend any time with it. What do you think?"

Peter was astonished. Andre's offer was generous and tempting, he had, in fact, felt awful about relinquishing his cup time, even though he desperately wanted it, he knew there was no sense in it. If he couldn't take it home to Russia, and he was still fearful of going out in public, then what was the point? Here was his chance to celebrate with it, though, and perhaps with Andre out and about with him it wouldn't be so bad.

"Da, I will think on it," he replied, taking a swallow of water to wash down his own food.

Andre nodded, shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and wiped at his lips where a glob of mustard laid just out of reach of his tongue. "You think about it and let me know Monday. I was thinking we'd go out on Wednesday. I've got plans to take it to the local rink, show it off to the kids, and I think one of the high schools in the area too, but otherwise, I figured we'd hit the town with it!"

Peter liked the sound of that. He had spent far too much time at home, feeling sorry for himself, or blaming himself for how things were or were not going, depending on what he was thinking about. Maybe getting out there, showing his face in public and letting everyone know that he wasn't afraid of this little girl and her nasty rumors, was just what he needed.

He couldn't hide forever, and sooner or later he'd need to face his fans, whether that meant trying to explain things or just acting like it had never happened, to begin with, he didn't know. Either way, it was time to face the music.

### Chapter 19

Lord Stanley

The weekend came and went, Viktor arrived home on Monday, and training camp was just a week away, and with encouragement from his friends, Peter was going out to celebrate. He'd be damned if he was going to let this little twit ruin it completely for him. He'd already had to cancel going home to see his family and friends, though they were all due to fly out in a couple of weeks after the start of the season to spend some time with him, and he'd also been forced to pass on his week alone with the Stanley Cup.

Andre and Viktor meant to rectify that, though, along with Donovan and Dean they had set it up to take over Molly MacPherson's for the night. It was a place they frequented often during the season after a home win, so it only felt natural. And since they were quite familiar with the staff there, Andre had cleared the party with them first.

There would be a buffet, and having postponed their honeymoon due to Abby's being pregnant, Dean was covering the bar tab for the evening and had in fact invited the entire team and their families. Jean and her husband were going to be there too, as well as the coaching staff. Molly's would be closed to the public for the night, which made things easier on Peter, and bouncers had been hired and given a list of those who would attend, making security as tight as possible.

No one was going to ruin Peter's evening with the Stanley Cup. If anyone deserved this time, it was Peter. And though he had invited Harmony and her father, he wasn't sure if she was going to come. Bill had taken him up on his offer and was bringing his girlfriend with him, but he hadn't said whether or not Harmony was coming too.

Peter hoped she would.

After their encounter late in the previous week, Harmony had taken to ignoring his calls once more. He just didn't understand her. One minute he was sure she believed in him, and then the next it was as if she were convinced he was a liar. Frankly, he was tired of all the back and forth, and this from a woman who was supposed to be so outspoken!

The Harmony he had first met, though tongue-tied as she had been, which was really endearing to him, had turned out to be a real chatterbox. Peter was glad he had been able to understand the English language as well as he had, because the way that girl talked, it was as if she would never be quiet. Until he kissed her.

Harmony seemed to come even more alive if that were possible when she was in his arms. It was a tale as old as time, primitive even. Their bodies responded to each other in a way that only soul mates could. And Peter knew that deep down Harmony believed in him, the way she melted in his arms was proof of that, but when she dared listen to her logical side rather than the physical responses of her body, she thought too much, and it destroyed whatever fragile trust she had built.

And that was just it, Harmony had a hard time trusting people, anyone for that matter. Peter had a pretty good conversation over the phone with her father. Bill told him when Peter had called to invite him to the party that Harmony was having a hard time with this, but that she usually had a hard time with anything new, it wasn't just Peter.

Harmony's mother had apparently been just as distrustful, and though she had grown up in a loving environment, she had turned out to be anything but loving herself. She didn't know how to express her feelings, and Bill had often wondered how he had fallen in love with her, to begin with. No, he had said, that wasn't fair, Harmony's mother had been a tender lover, and though he had apologized if the conversation was embarrassing, he continued anyway.

He told Peter that when Harmony's mother loved, it was with her whole heart and her entire body. She gave to him in the most primitive ways, and she was a very physical creature, and that was why Bill had fallen for her. But when she'd had the kids, Craig and Harmony, she pulled away, and their relationship had been strained.

Bill told Peter that he'd been in love with another woman for the last ten years or so of his marriage, although he hadn't done anything about it until his wife's passing. She had struggled in the end, and was in a lot of pain once the cancer started ravaging her body, and Bill was duty bound to take care of her. He knew deep down she still loved him, she had even insisted on her deathbed that he find someone that wasn't afraid to love him the way she hadn't.

Peter hadn't understood why Bill was telling him all that, until Bill said Harmony was a lot like her mother, if not in different ways. Peter again didn't understand. Harmony was anything but cold, and she had no problem telling you what she thought or how she felt about something, at least, she hadn't until this whole mess had happened.

And then it dawned on him.

Harmony was like her mother in the fact that she didn't trust easily, and when it came to matters of the heart, she did have a hard time explaining her feelings. But when you touched her, she came alive, her body had no problems telling you how she felt. Perhaps that was why Bill had told him all that, and maybe that was why Bill insisted Peter not give up on her. He knew Harmony cared for Peter, was in all honesty, probably head over heels in love with the boy, but it would take a gentle hand to lead her down that path.

And Peter had no intention of giving up. He had loved Harmony from the moment he'd met her, it was like a spark of recognition, one soul remembering the other and the times they had loved before. And maybe that sounded foolish, but Peter knew they were meant for each other, and that their souls were a mated pair, had been for centuries. He'd be damned if he would allow her to evade their destiny.

The party that night was a success. Every member of the Slashers team and staff had made it, with the exception of Francois' wife Denise. She was still in Canada, not yet ready to travel with the baby, and though France missed her deeply and wanted nothing more than to be with his new family, training camp started in one week, and Denise had promised to be back in Savannah with the baby by then. The team had hoped to get in a couple of practices before training camp commenced, play a little with the roster as it was now before all those that had been invited for a tryout invaded their territory.

France wasted no time, though showing off pictures of his beautiful Arabella, who already looked so much like her mother she was sure to give her father a heart attack when she was older.

Dean and Abby were as always, all over each other, and though still early in the pregnancy and thus not showing yet, Abby simply glowed. Even more so under the loving attention of her husband. Peter was thoroughly jealous of them and their happiness, though of course, he held no ill feelings towards them.

Donovan and Lacy set to arguing that night about pretty much everything and anything, which seemed to be their way of making love, for if they weren't teasing one another they were having a hard time keeping their hands to themselves, just one more reason in a long line of them for Peter to feel envious that night.

Despite it all, though, he had to admit to himself that he was having more fun than he'd had in a long time. It was great to be surrounded by people who cared about him. His friends, no, his family. And not once during the entire evening did anyone mention the terrible accusations. They simply didn't exist.

As the evening wore on, and those members of the Slashers team and organization that were of age to do so, drank one alcoholic concoction or another out of the Stanley Cup, laughter and cheers filled the little Scottish Pub. Peter himself had taken a strong vodka and poured it into the cup, he and Viktor drinking the Russian beverage together and singing a song of their homeland, albeit a little off key in their strong brogue, but nonetheless enjoyable as they rambled on.

Peter was having such a good time that he almost missed the fact that Harmony hadn't shown up.

Almost.

Bill could give him no reason as to why that was, and promised to speak to his daughter about the matter when he saw her again. He was sorely disappointed in her, last they had talked, Harmony had not made a decision one way or the other, but he had suspected that she was leaning towards coming.

And though it hurt it, though his heart was breaking, Peter managed to make the best of things, and enjoy the rest of the night spent with his family of friends and the Lord Stanley's Cup. Besides, there was plenty more alcohol on Dean's dime that needed drinking. And plenty to be celebrating as well.

Andre had been given a two-year bridge deal, there were a few other roles in need of filling, and thus he would get a better contract throughout the season, but as of now, he would be returning with the rest of the team. Just one more reason for everyone to get drunk! He might regret this in the morning, but for now, he was content to knock them back with his teammates, Harmony be damned, he'd enjoy his one night of freedom!

Harmony sat at home that night, Lupus with his head in her lap as she scratched him absently behind the ears, wondering if she'd made the right decision. She knew this night meant something to Peter, and thus because she wasn't nearly as ready as she thought she was to confront him with her feelings, decided that it would be best if she didn't attend. Peter needed this time to let loose and enjoy himself, have fun with his friends and just be the carefree guy he was.

She didn't want to ruin his night by confounding his feelings. No, it was best that she'd stayed away.

Her father was going to be there, and so was Chelsea, and though he had begged her to come, and told her Peter needed her there more than anyone else, she just wasn't ready to face him.

Trust didn't some easily to Harmony, it was something that took years to culminate, hell, she barely trusted Kate and Chelsea and she'd known one for nearly a decade and the other for close to 4 years now! Surely there was something about Peter, though?

Yes. She had felt it from the first.

As soon as his icy gaze had turned on her and warmed, she had known there was something there. And that first time he'd touched her, really touched her, it was if her entire being had recognized him on a cellular level. Perhaps she didn't believe in such things, or maybe it was simply that she didn't want to, but somewhere along the line, she had realized that Peter had an old soul, one that knew her own intimately.

And that scared her more than anything. Because hadn't Peter proved already that when things got tough he wasn't willing to be forthcoming and openly honest with her? It was true that in this case there simply was no easy or right way to go about things, she probably would have had the same reaction had he told her in the beginning, but it was the principal of the thing! He wasn't willing to trust her when it mattered, so why should she be forced to give him the benefit of the doubt?

Harmony had gone over all the talks she'd had in the past week, from Kate to Chelsea and even her father, but she was no closer to making a decision one way or the other. She had resigned herself to facing the press, but of course, they gave up on her after that one article and she hadn't seen anyone at her door since.

She'd been kind of disappointed too, not only would it have been hilarious to watch Lupus scatter them like the vultures they were, she was looking forward to the confrontation. It might have been the kick in the pants she needed to get over the rest of her mental hurdles and come clean with Peter.

Not tonight, though. No way. She wasn't going to ruin Peter's night with the Cup, he'd given up his week with it already, he was owed this much.

### Chapter 20

DNA

Peter nursed a hangover for most of Thursday. His head felt like it was split in two, and his body ached in ways he hadn't known possible, but God what a glorious night it had been! Well worth losing a day in bed feeling like he'd been hit by a bus.

By Friday he felt fine and was surprised to get a call from the lawyer's office telling him the results from the rape kit were back and that he could pick up a copy at the office if he were so inclined.

Why yes, he'd like that very much. He had thought to himself.

Andre had stopped by for a quick bite to eat, Viktor was a damned good cook, and though he had moved out, he hadn't forgotten it, and thus agreed to drive him there afterward.

It was a quick trip, and after going over the results with one of Ms. Paulino's associates as she was in court for the afternoon, Peter sighed a breath of relief. He had been assured by Erin's partner, that with definitive proof that the accuser was lying, there would be no way Peter could possibly face charges at this point. Their office was confident that the DA would announce their decision to dismiss the girl's absurd claims and exonerate Peter.

And with Training camp only a couple of days from now, it couldn't have happened at a better time! It had felt as though the weight of all of Russia had been on his back, and now he could breathe easily again. There was simply nothing she could do to him now, even her lawsuit would be dismissed he had been told. Although the partner had already been under the impression that the civil suit was going nowhere fast.

Apparently, the girl's lawyer had dropped her case, and no one else seemed inclined to pick it up. Now with these results coming to light, surely no one would. Peter was free, free at last to live his life again.

After dropping Peter off at home, Andre headed for Pooler, Georgia, a desolate little whole in the wall town he had never even heard of until Peter had told him that was where Harmony's grocery store was. And God had it been difficult to get even that out of him!

Andre had some unfinished business with the lady, but he didn't think Peter would approve of it so he'd tried to be as sneaky as possible when inquiring about Harmony and whether or not she might be at home today. Peter hadn't known for sure but having stopped there first and determining that she wasn't in, he was sure glad he'd had the sense to ask about her job.

So here he was, in the middle of a crappy little town, okay, so maybe that was only his opinion, because it actually looked like a nice little up and coming neighborhood, just not some place he could see himself living in. He found the grocery store easily enough and winced as his precious car hit a pothole the size of a small swimming pool.

There was a lot of construction going on around the little market, looked like a couple of buildings going up on either side of it, and the parking lot was in a state of disarray because of it.

After finding a spot that didn't make him grimace, Andre headed inside in search of the little woman, hopefully, she was here. Andre was going to be truly pissed off if he'd driven all the way out here, alright so it was only like ten miles from the outskirts of Savannah, but still, it was a good half hour with all the morning traffic, and he was going to be irritated nonetheless if he'd made the trip for nothing.

Upon entering the quaint little store, he did a scan, and came up empty, she was nowhere in sight, and though he was already becoming a little annoyed, he knew that just because he didn't see her didn't mean she wasn't here. So he went up to the first person he came across and asked them if she was working today.

Success!

The girl, a pretty little blonde whom Andre probably wouldn't have minded getting to know better, told him she was in her office and she'd go and get her. So he waited at the customer service desk while she disappeared into a door behind it.

Not a minute later Harmony appeared.

God, she looked like crap! Okay, so she was beautiful, any idiot could see that, but one could just as easily see she wasn't sleeping well, and no amount of makeup was going to hide the dark circles under her eyes. She and Peter were truly two of a kind, killing themselves this way. Too stubborn to just admit their feelings for each other. Well, he'd just do it for them!

"Andre?" Harmony said, walking out from behind the little enclosure. "What are you doing here?" A look of concern crossed her face as she got closer, her eyes going wide as different scenarios ran through that pretty little head of hers.

Good. He thought to himself, he hoped she was thinking about all sorts of horrible things that may or may not have happened to Peter!

"I needed to talk to you about something. Can we use your office?"

"Of course," she nodded, indicating with her hand that he should follow her. "Is everything okay?"

Once inside the room off of the customer service area, she led him to another room and closed the door behind herself, crossing to the large desk that sat in the center of the office and leaning back against it. After a brief look around, Andre made himself comfortable in a chair that sat in front of the big oak desk a few feet from where she leaned against it.

"Is everything okay?" she asked again, irritation creeping into her voice. "Is it Peter?"

"You could say that," Andre remarked, his eyes landing on hers once he had surveyed enough of his surroundings to be satisfied. It was a nice office, though impersonal really.

Harmony gripped the edge of her desk, her knuckles going white, and noticing it, Andre grinned. So she did care.

"What's wrong with Peter?" she nearly cried.

Andre pulled a piece of folded up paper out of his pocket, tossing it on the desk next to Harmony. She followed the motion with her eyes, never turning her head and quickly glancing back at him.

"What's that?"

"The DNA results."

Harmony looked at the paper half open now on her desk, then back at Andre. She wasn't sure what to make of his presence here. He made her nervous. Which was silly, because he was just sitting there. With a shit eating grin on his face!

She folded her arms in front of her chest, "Why did you bring me that?" Harmony asked, her voice cracking as she tried to maintain her composure. She had the strongest urge to pick up the piece of paper and look at it, and an even stronger urge to shred it instead. Her mind wanted answers, her heart wanted to trust him.

Andre shrugged, then stood and gave her a once over. That smirk making her feel distinctly uneasy as his gaze roamed over her business-like stance. "Thought you'd want to know."

"Know what?" She didn't like the way he kept evading her questions, this game of cat and mouse was getting old. "Why don't you just tell me what this is all about Andre? I'm not very good at guessing games."

His smile turned genuine then, his chocolate brown eyes crinkling as they warmed. "Do you think he assaulted that girl?" he asked, his head tilting, one eyebrow cocking.

"No."

"Have you told him that?"

She shook her head, looking down at the floor now, at the scuff marks under her feet. "No."

Andre sighed, clearly frustrated. "He's not going to wait forever Harmony. Peter loves you, and if I'm not mistaken, you love him too."

Harmony's head shot up, her eyes drawing into little slits, her fists clenched. She was growing tired of everyone and their advice all of the sudden, and Andre seemed like the perfect person to let off a little steam with. "Do you think I don't know that?" She spat, her anger rushing at her like the waves to the shore, there was simply no holding back now. She threw her hands up in frustration, moving away from the desk, "Damn it, Andre, do you think I need a lecture from you? I'm a grown woman!"

Andre scoffed.

"Go to hell," she shot at him, turning her back and leaning over the desk trying to tamp down the rage that boiled inside her. "I don't need you, or my father, or anyone else telling me how I feel about Peter! I know how I feel."

"And how do you feel?"

She whirled on him, ready to rip into him, ready to tell him off. But seeing the look on his face, his words seeping into what rational thought remained, she heaved a sigh, the frustration of a moment ago slowly receding. "I love him," she said in defeat. All the anger in the world couldn't stop her from admitting the truth.

"Then what's the holdup?"

"I'm scared."

Andre blinked, smiled at her, then placed a hand on her shoulder. "What's to be afraid of? It's Peter." He almost laughed as he said it, setting her nerves at ease. "I know he's a Russian and all," he teased with a wink, "but seriously Harmony, how can you be afraid of Peter?"

The way he was looking at her, as though she had grown two heads, her statement sounding so completely ridiculous to him, Harmony couldn't help but laugh.

Amanda pounded the pillows of her crappy second-hand couch.

Some stupid bimbo from the DA's office had just stopped by and informed her that they were not going to press charges. She'd been given the run about for sure, being told that while there wasn't enough evidence to pursue this case, they would leave it open in the event that something else came to light.

Yeah, right. And Santa Claus is real!

She wasn't an idiot, her case wouldn't be set on some back burner waiting for more evidence, with Peter's influence it would be dismissed completely. And why shouldn't it be? She'd been a complete idiot! She knew she should have followed her first instinct and gone after Andre! At least she'd had sex with him!

Not that it mattered now, it was over. There was nothing she could do at this point. She hadn't been able to find a lawyer to take this case to a civil judge before the results of the rape kit testing, no way was she going to be able to now! And her case against Andre was even less likely. She couldn't get one without the other, they'd just say Andre was telling the truth, so how could that be slander?

Just when she'd thought to let it go, to admit defeat. Another idea came to mind.

She was reading one of the latest tabloid magazines, she needed something to calm her down before she broke something, and voila! A new plan formed in her deranged little mind! Tabloids! Of course, why hadn't she thought of it before? Tabloids weren't known for their honesty and indiscretion, and now that the case was over, it didn't really matter what she said, nothing could hurt her at this point!

She'd call one of these crackpot vanity reporters and sell them the story of the year! How she was raped by Andre Lepowski and sexually assaulted by Peter Petrovic! Of course, she might as well call his lawyer first and warn her. Maybe Peter would cough up some money to keep her quiet!

It was genius! Why hadn't she thought of this, to begin with?

### Chapter 21

A Last Attempt

Training camp had started.

The current team, as well as any free agents who had been invited from other teams, and AHL hopefuls all gathered on the ice to listen to Coach Turski as he ministered to them about his expectations before giving them each their instructions for the day.

It was grueling. The workouts, the practices, each being put through their paces, but at the end of it all, the roster would be decided upon, and everyone would know their place.

Peter didn't think things would be too different from last season. The cap had risen a couple of million, and with it came the relief they desperately needed. There were thankfully only a few slots that needed to be filled and tons of young talent in the pipeline vying for a chance to break into the professional circuit.

They had picked up a couple of really good prospects at the draft, and though one of them was bound to be left to play in the CHL, the other was looking to fill an open winger position on the fourth line since two of the three rental pieces they'd picked up at the deadline were too expensive to re-sign and had already gone on to other teams.

While everyone was sad to see one of their bottom pairing defensemen get traded to Boston, that was the name of the game. The kid had improved immensely over the season after having been called up shortly after the season began, but with other spots taking precedence, the GM did what he had to do to fill roster spots with ready now players, and gather future prospects as well.

Over the next two weeks, guys would come and guys would go, and before they knew it, preseason would be upon them. There were six preseason games before the season opener on October fifth. Six chances for all the hopefuls wanting to make the team to show just what they were made of.

Sliding across the ice with his teammates, he and Donovan playing a little keep away, Peter felt right at home. The cool air of the rink, the feel of the ice under his blades, sweat trickling down his neck as he pushed himself to the limit, he was born for this. There was nothing on earth that he enjoyed more.

Well, except for perhaps making love to Harmony.

Oh, sweet delicious Harmony.

Peter had been too busy this past week, and he honestly hadn't given much thought to Harmony. She'd creep into his dreams every so often, but with the need to get back into game-ready shape looming on the horizon, Peter and the rest of his teammates hadn't had much more than a moment to spare between workouts and ice time.

He had hoped, though foolishly he had to admit, that Harmony would come to him again as she had before. No such luck.

Andre had told Peter not to worry the one time he had confided in him. And while he wanted to trust his young friend, he couldn't understand why Andre seemed so sure of the situation. What knowledge did he possess would make him certain that Harmony would come around? He had, in fact, said just that. "Give her time," he'd said, she just needs to come to terms with her own feelings, "you'll see," he'd told him, she'll come to you when she's ready.

Could Andre be right? Perhaps he was wiser than his twenty-three years?

Peter shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he swiped the puck away from one of the young hopefuls, shooting it down the ice to where Dean skidded to a stop in front of Francois and attempted to put it past the goaltender's glove hand.

It was of course to no avail. France was on top of his game, being a new father, and having his family all under one roof now, gave him a spark he hadn't had last season. Not that he hadn't been good then mind you, he'd had one hell of a season, more shutouts than any other goalie, his save percentage the best in the league, winning the Vezina Trophy, but if this spark of his was anything to go by, he'd have an even better season this time around.

A repeat perhaps?

They could only hope.

Harmony had more than enough time to figure things out.

She'd talked to Kate, she'd listened to Chelsea, and she'd been hammered by her father and Andre. So what was the holdup? Peter had waited patiently for her to come around, and perhaps by now, he might have even moved on altogether, though she didn't think so. She'd talked to Andre just the other day over the phone. Peter was still pining away for her, of course, one wouldn't know it by watching the preseason games.

Peter came alive out there on the ice, and having narrowly been outvoted for the Norris Trophy last season, it was clear he wasn't going to allow that to happen again. His stats in the first three preseason games were remarkable, and hell, he was only on the ice half a game a best as they were still trying out other players from the AHL.

No, this thing with her and Peter did not affect his work ethic. And why should it? Her job hadn't suffered any either! Things with the new set up around the store were working out fabulously. Well, almost everything.

She'd been near ready to talk to Peter one night last week, but then things at the store went to hell in a handbasket. Part of the roof had caved in, the ongoing construction being the cause of it. Apparently, one of the men on the job wasn't nearly as qualified as he had appeared to be and ended up dropping a load of bricks on the roof at the back left corner of the store. Right over the walk in coolers in the frozen section.

It was a nightmare, to say the least, and though the firm in charge of the build had promised to cover the damages, there was still a lot to be done to remedy the problem. They weren't like traditional stores where you had your coolers and then a stock room cooler for the excess dairy and what not. Those were the only walk-ins, there was no extra stock, if it wasn't there, they didn't have it.

Relocating everything that was salvageable took time, and more than a little effort.

Thankfully the crew on hand had gotten the job done, and the firm had their own contractors on the roof the next day. Everything was quickly put back to rights, but it had still caused enough of a problem that Harmony had been distracted from the task at hand.

Driving home from work that night, Harmony decided it was time to set the record straight. Only, Peter wasn't home. Once she got to his place and knocked on the door, the tall blonde lady she had met once before, Sandra she had said her name was, informed Harmony that the team was in Arizona, she was watching the dogs for them, and that they would be home tomorrow night.

So much for timing, she had thought to herself as she got back in her car and headed in the direction of home.

It seemed as if the universe was now against her and Peter reuniting. Had she taken too long? Maybe she'd missed her chance? She didn't believe in coincidence, but nor did she want to think that fate had other plans for her now. She belonged with Peter, and tomorrow night she was going to find a way to tell him that!

Donovan cornered Peter the moment they stepped on the tarmac at the Savannah airport. "Hey man, can I talk to you for a sec?" he asked, his tone of voice not belying anything.

"Da, sure," Peter replied, following him around the airport and to the parking lot where Lacy was waiting for him behind the wheel of his Escalade.

Lacy, though a member of the Slashers medical team, had yet to travel with them. Their having had to be apart for the short period of time had obviously been too much to bear. So Donovan gave her a big smacking kiss, pulling her into his arms and squeezing her as if he hadn't seen her in forever, though it'd only been a day. "Hey babe," he said, standing back and leaning against the door frame, "can you give me and Peter a minute?"

She eyed him skeptically for a second then nodded, sliding out of the driver's seat. "sure, I'll go say hi to Abby," she smiled, patting Donovan on the cheek and walking away.

Smirking as he watched the way Lacy's butt swayed, Donovan turned to Peter and motioned for him to hop in. Peter followed suit as Donovan climbed into the back of the Escalade and preceded to lean back in his seat, throwing his arm comfortably over the back of the head rest.

"I heard the DA is going to make an announcement tomorrow about dropping the case." He said once Peter was settled.

Peter smiled, "da, I am very excited for this to be over."

Donovan nodded, then frowned. "Well, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it's far from over my friend."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean I got a call from a reporter friend, you know, the one Andre talked to, and she told me something that's a little disturbing, to say the least." Donovan made it a point to wring his hands in a gesture of frustration, he didn't want to be telling Peter this. The poor guy was finally getting his life back together, and wasn't it bad enough that fans of other teams had booed him every time he touched the puck? He didn't need this on top of it all.

"What is it you are talking about Donny? I do not understand." Peter broke in, clearly confused.

"She wanted to give me a heads up."

"A heads up?"

Donovan sighed, then nodded, might as well just spit it out. "I gave her some tips a while back, and then Andre gave her that really good story, so she felt obligated to let me know what was going on. One of her co-workers is doing a story on you, Peter."

Peter was quiet a minute while he let that sink in. "A story? On me? I still do not know what it is you mean."

"That Amanda girl is selling her story to them. Star isn't the most reputable magazine, and they've agreed to pay her a fair amount, for her lies. I'm really sorry about this Pete. I wish I knew how to stop this."

"Friend of yours cannot make it stop?"

Regretfully, Donovan shook his head, "no, it's not her story. She just wanted to give me the heads up on it."

Peter, angry and losing all hope of ever being able to lead a normal lifestyle again, jerked open the door of the SUV and hopped out. He waved to Donovan who started to say something else but stopped as Peter put more distance between them, headed for Viktor's car as Sandra had agreed to pick them up rather than having to put a vehicle in long term parking.

He slipped into the back seat and leveled a glare at Viktor who turned to speak to him, silencing whatever he had thought to say. Viktor turned to Sandra instead, tired, and now weary of whatever had gotten under Peter's skin, and told her to take them home. Clearly now was not the time to socialize with Peter.

Harmony was sitting on the couch entertaining Sadie and Dasha as they entered through the back door. Peter took one look at her, his handsome face still marred with anger, and longing for something he now knew he could not have, he turned and dashed up the stairs to his room, Sadie leaping from the couch to follow in his wake.

What was that all about? Harmony wondered as she watched Peter run up the stairs like a madman. And why was he so angry? He hadn't even said hello! Was it something she'd done? But how could it be, she hadn't seen him in weeks!

Worried, she exchanged glances with Viktor, who just shrugged his shoulders and led Sandra down the back hall to his bedroom. Well, that only left one thing for her to do. Follow him. She hadn't come over here to leave without speaking her peace first.

Harmony went up the stairs, her nerves as taut as a tightrope, and tapped gently on Peter's bedroom door. She heard what sounded like Sadie sniffing at the bottom, but no other sound came from within. Pulling the strap of her purse a little higher on her shoulder, she gave the door knob a try and found that it was unlocked, opening the door and walking into the room.

Peter sat in a chair in the corner of the room, facing a multi-screened computer that occupied an antique desk. Something she hadn't noticed the other two times she'd been in the room. Though now, as she realized just how big and ornate the desk was, and how advanced the technology that rested upon it was, she felt amazed at the fact that she could have been so blind.

Then again, both times she'd been in this room Peter had made unbelievably amazing love to her, so maybe it wasn't that much of a stretch.

Peter didn't seem to notice her arrival as he typed furiously at the keyboard, another facet of Peter that surprised her. She had no idea he was so tech savvy, his limitations with the English language made him appear less than what he was. The closer she got to him, though, the more advanced she realized he was. He went back and forth between the two screens, typing something in Russian on one screen, and then something that quickly translated from Russian to English on the other screen.

Emails she realized, ignoring them once she figured out what he was doing, and then tapping him gently on the shoulder.

Peter started, having no idea she was in his room, let alone that she was still in his house. Sadie jumped down from the bed where she had so easily made herself at home and stood between the two of them whining as Peter grumbled something in Russian and regained his composure.

Harmony could tell he was still angry, but his features softened as he took note of the concern on her face.

"I did not know you were still here." He conceded after a few minutes of awkward silence passed between them.

Harmony's hackles rose at the indifference in his voice, with hands on her hips, she braced herself for an argument. "I'm sorry, did I fail to take the hint downstairs? Was I supposed to have left?"

Peter shrugged, baiting her temper further. "You are free to do as you please no?"

"What's gotten into you, Peter?" She demanded. "I thought you would be happy to see me!"

Turning back around in his chair, Peter attempted to ignore her and finished what he was working on, signing both emails and hitting send, he rose from his chair, walking over to the bed where he sat down and proceeded to remove his shoes, nearly throwing them on the floor where they stopped mere inches from Harmony's feet.

Harmony was stunned! She'd never seen Peter act this way. Why, he was no more than a petulant child, angry for being told he couldn't play with his favorite toy! She suddenly wondered why she had even bothered, only to realize that Peter had every right to be angry with her.

Sighing, and resigning herself to her fate, she stood before him, their eyes locked in a battle of wills. "I'm sorry Peter," she began, "you have every reason to be mad at me."

Scoffing, Peter cut her off, putting a hand up to silence her. "You think I am mad at you?" He growled.

"Aren't you?"

"What reason do I have to be mad at you Harmony? Because you have not believed me? Is because you do not support me?" Peter stood, closing the distance between them, his voice rough as he reached out and ran a finger down the side of her arm. "Is because you touch me how you do, you make love with me, and walk away?" Harmony shivered, and Peter laughed mirthlessly, his hand trailing around her neck and pulling her closer to his face as he kneaded the base of her spine and neck. "Is because you have feelings for me, but not the courage to face them?"

Peter was so close to her now, she could feel the heat of his breath on her neck as his voice dropped and he whispered albeit harshly in her ear. "Is maybe that you can stay away from me when I suffer to have you near?"

Harmony gasped as his lips feathered across her neck, the anger she held onto so strongly having fled, replaced by a deep seeded need, one so strong she ached with it.

But rather than put her out of her misery, Peter took a step back. He looked at her with such disdain, and said, "Net. I am not mad with you." His hands dropped to his sides, and though one corner of his mouth twitched in amusement as he studied her flushed cheeks, and the erotic image she presented with her full lips partially open and gasping for air, he did not touch her again.

Harmony was at a loss. She couldn't even begin to comprehend what had just happened. Peter had so easily seduced her just then, but why? Clearly, he was angry, and if not with her, then who? And what point had he proven by making her want him as he did? What sick enjoyment did he get from that? Because, yes, oh yes, he had enjoyed it. Even if his anger hadn't dissipated any, he had thoroughly enjoyed what he'd done to Harmony.

And just like that, she was angry again.

Just who did Peter think he was to play with her like that?

Stunned by his lack of apathy, and her foolishness Harmony reached into her purse then, pulling out the paper Andre had given to her a few weeks back, and holding it out to him. "I can see it was a mistake to come here. I'm sure you'll want this back."

Peter snatched the paper away from her, throwing it on the bed behind him. "What is it?" he demanded, not caring to look at it for himself.

"Your test results."

He glowered at her, his fists clenching visibly. Without even knowing what she'd done, Harmony had effectively channeled all his anger onto her. And the look of rage he sent her, the ice that shot like daggers from his eyes, chilled her to the bone.

"So you know?" He seethed. "Is this why you are here? You could not believe me on your own, but now that Andre has given you the proof, you can come to me?"

He said his friend's name with such venom, that Harmony wasn't sure to be scared or pleased. He was so angry, much more than before, and as she had already witnessed, could be cruel in his attentions, Harmony backed up a couple of steps instinctively, but Peter quickly filled the gap.

"What was it that convinced you? Is because they did not find any of my DNA? Or maybe that she had used a pencil to mark her leg?"

He had her backed up against the wall now, close enough that she could practically feel the intensity of his rage as it rolled off him in waves. What would Peter do? Would this beautiful Adonis strike her? No, she didn't think so.

Her fear of this man wasn't in a physical sense, she knew that. Peter wouldn't dare hurt her, not that way. But her heart, as it hammered in her chest, threatened to break into a thousand little pieces as he continued to rant at her, she felt sure that he could hurt her in that way.

Harmony reached out for him then, she braced both hands against his chest, his heart was beating wildly, and his eyes seemed to darken as he looked at the contact between them.

What would Peter do? The thought crossed her mind again. But she didn't have near enough time to think about it.

Peter's mouth found hers in an instant. His kiss was hard and punishing at first, but as Harmony gripped the front of his shirt in her hands, as she kissed him back with all she had, Peter groaned and slowly pulled away. "I do not care Harmony." He said, his lips capturing hers again as his tongue explored every inch of the inside of her mouth. Pulling away again, he whispered into her ear, "As long as you know I did not do it, I do not care." Then he plundered the side of her neck, his teeth biting gently at one sensitive earlobe before he sucked at the hollow between her neck and ear.

Harmony moaned, her hands reaching up under his shirt, her fingers digging into his dampened back and the muscles that rippled and quivered under her fingers.

Peter had her pants off before she even knew what was happening, and with one quick movement, he pulled his down just far enough and used his hands to lift her bottom, her legs wrapping around him as he pushed into her.

With the wall at her back, Peter pounded his body against hers, lost in the savage desire to have her, to claim her body, to mark her as his own. It had been too long since the last time, and with the pain that boiled within him, the pressure coiling so tightly inside him, he could not prevent himself from taking her in such an animalistic way.

But as his body rubbed against hers, as his flesh branded and seared, as their souls melded together, Harmony did not feel pain. The way he kissed her, the way he cradled her head with one hand and held steadfast to her bottom with the other, his fingers sinking into her flesh, Harmony felt more alive than was possible. Her body buzzed with electricity. The current so strong she was sure she was headed for a meltdown of epic proportions.

In all her life she had never known a passion as great as this.

And when the dam broke, when the fire sizzled so far out of control, she buried her face in his chest, clung for dear life to his back, and let the world collapse around her. Her back arched as her body spiraled out of control, as the orgasm took her with such force that she could not stop it, did not want to stop it.

Peter felt her body tighten around his, her cries of ecstasy filling his head as she came, and with one final thrust, he emptied into her.

The moment the fever raging within him died down, he was ashamed of himself.

Never in his life had Peter been so callous or rough with a woman. Never had he taken advantage of one. Here he was trying to convince the woman he loved that he was in fact not a brute, and yet he took her with such force that it scared even him.

Peter backed away from her, picking up her discarded clothes and handing them to her before righting his jeans and crossing the room to sit down on the bed. With his face in his hands, his shoulders heaved in what must have looked like a sob, because without a care for her current state of dress, Harmony rushed to his side.

"What is it, Peter? What's wrong?"

He shook his head, he dared not look at her now. "I was too rough. How can you forgive me now?" He said into his palms.

Touched by his words, and the amount of concern he showed for her, Harmony thought back on something Peter had once said to her, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder she threw his words back at him, fake Russian accent and all! "Do not think badly of what we have done. It was beautiful."

Peter's head lifted slowly, and though the embarrassment of his actions still lingered in his too cold eyes, a smile stretched across his face.

It was the only warning Harmony, who stood half naked beside him, received before Peter reached out and snagged her about the waist, pulling her on top of him and laying her across his lap, where he proceeded to plunder her once more.
Chapter 22

A new Season

A few hours later, both sated and exhausted, Harmony rose up on her elbow to peer down into Peter's angelic face. Despite the dark circles he carried under his eyes to match her own, he was still the most beautiful man she had ever seen. With his unruly blonde hair, curling against his forehead, and his piercingly blue eyes, those full lips half parted as he watched her through his impossibly dark lashes, and that subtle bit of scruff on his chin, surely she had died and gone to heaven.

"What is it Harmony?" Peter asked, made nervous by her intense examination of his face.

She shook her head. She wanted to stay this way forever. Forget about all the crazy thoughts in her head, forget about the problems they had faced in the past. Just lying there next to him, the heat of his naked body against hers, was enough happiness to last a lifetime.

But she knew that was the coward's way out. Worrying her lip now, she turned away from him, not sure how to say what she had come to tell him. She just knew it needed to be said. Especially now when they were so close to really having a life together.

"I never read the results, Peter," she admitted, turning her face into his chest as he rolled towards her.

"I am sorry?"

"The paper I gave you earlier, the one Andre gave me, I never looked at it."

"And yet you did still believe me?"

"Yes."

He sighed, "then I am very sorry for how I have acted." Peter sat up, pulling Harmony up against him and stroking her smooth silky locks. "You must say that you forgive me Harmony."

"Of course. If you can forgive me."

"For what?"

"For not telling you sooner how I felt. For not supporting you when you needed me most. And for staying away from you for so long." Snuggling closer, Harmony could hear the strong beat of his heart against her ears, a heart that beat for her, and she smiled, knowing she hadn't missed her chance after all. "I'm so sorry Peter. So sorry."

With his arms wrapped around her, Peter hugged her close, inhaled the scent of her, and sighed in such absolute contentment. One that did not last as he thought of his newest predicament. If he did not want to lose Harmony again, he'd have to tell her.

"There is something else," he said quietly.

She pulled away, not far enough to break contact, but enough so that she could see his face, and the pain that crept into his forlorn expression. "What? What is it? You can tell me."

With a last sigh of resignation, Peter told her about his conversation with Donovan just hours ago. He told her about the story that girl was going to write and the emails he had already sent off to Jean and his lawyer when she had first come into his room. He didn't want to burden Harmony with these things, and he could only imagine what this article would do to him, and their new found relationship, but she deserved to know what she was getting into.

Perhaps if he had been honest in the first place they wouldn't have had to spend the last month without each other. But even though he loved her, he wondered if she would stand by him this time, or if he was destined to lose her forever.

"Oh Peter," she had said when he finished.

"Will you leave me now?" he dared to ask, afraid of what the answer might be.

Harmony cocked her head to one side, studying him as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his discarded clothes. "Why would you think that?" she asked, pulling the sheet closer to her chest as he turned to look at her, her cheeks flushing with color when he noticed her misplaced modesty.

"Was not my problem the reason we have not talked? Would not this make it harder for you? For us?"

"Oh, Peter."

He flinched slightly as she reached out for him, running a hand down his backside, his skin smooth beneath her fingers, desire beginning to build within each of them.

"Peter," she said again, her voice husky, yet dripping with confusion and concern as he looked at her over his shoulder. "I have some issues of my own, this wasn't all your fault, and I won't have you thinking that it was."

"I am afraid I do not understand."

"I have trust issues, Peter," she explained with a sigh, "I probably wouldn't have believed you at first even if you had come clean, and I'm sorry for that, I'm ashamed of myself for that. But it didn't help any that you couldn't trust me with your problems. I love you Peter, and I want to help you when you need it, you don't have to go through these things on your own."

"You love me?" Peter asked tentatively, bypassing nearly everything else she had said and latching onto that one simple admission. Though there was surely nothing simple about it, and Peter knew he felt the same way, but to hear her say it!

Smiling now, she nodded, "of course, I think I have from the moment I met you." Looking down, she continued. "I wasn't sure I believed in such things, love at first sight is for fairy tales you know. But then someone told me about their own forbidden love, and I knew that's what I felt for you."

"My Harmony," he gasped, pulling her against him and smothering her in a kiss like none before. "I have waited for an eternity to hear you say those words." Peter groaned between kisses, "I have such love for you, it hurts. I was so scared you did not love me too." His lips pressed gently to virtually every part of her face before he finally finished and let her go, looking down into those deep blue eyes, his smile so sincere.

"About that story." Harmony managed, lying in his lap, feeling the hardness of his growing desire beneath her, and knowing if they didn't talk about this now, they probably never would. "I think I can help."

"And how is this?"

"Well, with freedom of the press what it is, there's not much we can do legally, but perhaps that friend of Donovan's would be interested in a story of her own."

The Cheshire cat like grin that spread the width of her face, both stunned and amused him, and brushing the hair away that had fallen in her face, Peter's love and blossoming desire for this woman continued to grow as he listened carefully to her plan. His Harmony was truly a remarkable woman, and when she was finished talking, which really could be several hours yet, he was going to show her how much he thoroughly appreciated her.

Amanda couldn't believe it! Sitting on her crappy couch, in her shitty little apartment as Cassie flipped through channels next to her, she fumed. Slamming her cell phone on the floor and watching in disgust as the battery popped out of it.

Everything had gone to hell! Not only had she gotten fired from work once her boss, who happened to be a man, had heard the rumors, but now the reporter she had been working with had called to tell her the deal was off! What else could possibly go wrong?

At this rate, she'd probably end up flipping burgers at a fast food joint! Which was probably no less than she deserved at this point. She should have listened to Cassie. Of course, she'd never admit that now. For Cassie, who still had a job, and a sterling reputation, not that any hot guy would think of sleeping with her lard ass anyways, sat smugly on the couch next to her, having overheard the conversation she'd just had with the slime ball reporter.

At least she still had her looks! Not that it mattered now, she snorted to herself. She'd have to consider moving away from Savannah if she ever wanted another guy to look at her without seeing a money grubbing whore! Damn it! She was smarter than this, how had she let this happen? Why hadn't she thought this through a little better before putting the plan into action? Because you saw an opportunity and you took it dumb ass! She scolded herself. Well, she'd be smarter next time.

Right, like there would be a next time. She'd just stick to seducing men for fun. Get a new job, maybe move back to Atlanta with her folks and get as far away from all the no good son of a bitch hockey players as she could! It just wasn't worth it. Her job, her friends, her reputation, and all for what? She wasn't getting anything out of it! Peter had won. Somehow he'd been smarter than her!

And now she had nothing. Peter wasn't going to pay her, the magazine wasn't going to pay her, and Peter's bitch of a lawyer had threatened her with a harassment suit if she ever dared contact Peter or her office again. Great.

Well, she thought to herself again, at least I still have my looks.

In the week that followed the Chatham, County DA announced that the claim against Mr. Petrovsky Petrovic, would be dismissed, and the case closed.

Reporters stopped hounding Peter, staking the outside of his home, and publishing unwanted articles about him once the statement was made, and the NHL concluded their own investigation, one in which they declared that Peter had done nothing wrong.

The magazine article Donovan had warned him about was never published. Nor was the one that Harmony had so brilliantly suggested. Star magazine chomped at the bit to publish one or both of them. But when Donovan's reporter friend threatened to discredit the other reporter's article with one of her own, one that would garner far more attention for that matter, the cowardly reporter had backed down immediately, and that was the end of that.

Peter allowed for a brief interview the day before the opening game, in which he made no comments about the girl or her accusations, saying he only wanted to move forward with his life, and refusing to answer any more questions unless they directly related to the Slashers upcoming season.

The preseason had ended with no drastic roster changes, but left the Slashers in a prime position to repeat for the Stanley Cup. Unless of course the Chicago Blackhawks, who were looking for their fifth cup in nine seasons, had anything to say about that.

Which they did.

Both teams were eager for the season to get underway, especially since the Slashers would open their cup defending season against the Blackhawks, who were more than willing to put a damper on their banner raising ceremony and celebration.

Harmony and Peter had spent every night of the last week together. Either at her place or his, it didn't seem to matter, though they did rotate to appease their dogs, as long as they were together they were content no matter the location. Of course, they were already looking at a place of their own, and Harmony's father, along with his new live-in girlfriend, Chelsea, had agreed to watch the dogs whenever she went out of town for games with Peter.

And of course, with Harmony's job being as flexible as it was, she had figured she'd be able to make it work around Peter's, joining Abby as often as she could in the family club section at the games. Abby, who sported the smallest of baby bumps and had, at sixteen weeks found out they were having a little boy.

As for Lacy, she took to her new job as part of the Slashers medical team with ease, and was going to relish the time she spent both home and away with Donovan, even if they did fight like cats and dogs! The preseason had already prepared her for what life with the Slashers organization was going to be like, and with Donovan to keep her on her toes, she was looking forward to the season ahead!

After a quick prayer, in which they asked God to give them the ability to kick the ever loving crap out of the Blackhawks, without getting injured in the process, of course, the players went about their pregame routines.

Some of the guys played soccer out in the hall, others stretched and taped up their sticks, and still more of them did various cardio and other exercises. Wives wished their men well, as if they were truly going out to the battlefields, and the coaches went over plays and rotations with each other.

All of it, the players, the atmosphere, it simply fascinated Harmony, who sat on a bench in the middle of the locker room across from Peter in his stall, where he wolfed down a power bar and set to taping up a couple of sticks in the event that one broke.

He looked stunning in his uniform, his hair mussed and already damp from his warm up earlier. His eyes peered up at her through his long lashes several times as he split his attention between her and the task at hand. She was so lucky to have such a man. A handsome man like Peter. A man that loved her the way he did.

Someone dressed in formal wear came into the room then, a hushed silence falling throughout the room. "Alright guys, it's time." The big man said with a nod and a smile.

Then one by one, the coaches, the staff and the players began to line up, ready to take the ice for the raising of the banner and the final presentation of the Stanley Cup before it went to where ever it was kept during the season.

Harmony watched as Abby gave Dean a loud smacking kiss and a tap on the butt before sending him out of the locker room, then she turned to Harmony and Peter, and with a wink, strode out to the area outside the ice, a special section that had been set up for family and friends to watch the ceremony.

Smiling as they faced each other, Peter towering over her as he looked into her violet-tinged eyes, Harmony reached up and stroked a finger down the side of his cheek. "I love you," she said.

Then Peter kissed her, hard. His lips smothering hers, his tongue taking control of her mouth with a sinful pleasure, one they would never take for granted again. "Ja tebja ljublju!" he whispered in Russian, and then again in English as he nipped at her earlobe. "I love you too."

Harmony laughed, watching afterward as Peter re-adjusted the pads around his groin. Someone just outside the locker room said his name then, catching their attention. They could hear the announcers just outside the hall, one by one the Slashers team members of this year's roster were announced, and Peter needed to get out on the ice.

"Peter you're up." Someone in the distance said again.

"Da, yeah. I am coming." He shouted back over his shoulder.

His eyes met hers, the coldness of his gaze replaced with a warmth that Harmony could feel clear to her toes. She smiled and flicked her finger down his nose.

"Go get 'em tiger," she said.

Peter grabbed her, and squeezing her as though he never meant to let her go again, he gave her one more smacking kiss, and made haste for the door.

Harmony went to the edge of the hall, family and friends were gathered just outside the glass, watching excitedly as this year's roster proudly skated around the rink.

Peter slid out onto the ice, throngs of adoring fans cheering as his name was called over the sound system.

Gliding around the rink in circles, he waved to them, his homecoming more than welcoming, as if the events of the summer had never come to pass. Then catching Harmony's smiling face as he passed by where she stood off to the side, he winked at her.

Harmony's heart squeezed at the sight of him, there was such happiness on his face. This beautiful Russian Adonis of hers. Together they had faced down the unimaginable, and together they would face the rest.

A new season.

A new start.

A new life....together.

###
Notes from the author;

Thank you so much for picking up a copy of the third and final installment in The Savannah Slashers Series! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it! And be sure to check out the first two books in the series Icing the Competition, and Melting the Ice if you haven't already!

I want to take the time to thank one of my favorite new players of the Chicago Blackhawks, 2015 rookie of the year, Artemi Panarin. For without Panarin's boyishly handsome good looks and his shyness as he navigates through American customs, Peter wouldn't have won my heart the way he did, inspiring me to create his own story.

I also want to thank my wonderful friend Jessica for her creative genius where Harmony is concerned. She wouldn't have jumped off the pages as she has without you!

And of course, to Jean, my amazing friend, and editor, who has devoted her valuable time to making sure my story is as error free and enjoyable as possible! I can't thank you enough!

I truly hope you enjoyed getting to know the men of the Savannah Slashers, and I hope you'll take a moment to leave a review with your favorite ebook retailer on my behalf!

-April
If you enjoyed reading Thin Ice, you'll love my next novel!

Here's a sneak peek at my next novel, The Placebo Effect!

After a long hot shower, Olivia slipped into her favorite nightgown, a bright red chemise that hung nearly to her ankles and felt luxuriously soft against her skin, and plopped down onto the couch where she and Spook curled up together to watch the latest episode of the Bachelor she'd DRV'd, reality TV being one of her favorite past times, that and a good book.

She thought about tomorrow, what time she would get up, what she might wear, and whether or not she would stay at her brother's shop. She enjoyed working at the shop with him, didn't mind getting her hands a little dirty, and he was short staffed more often than not. The shop, as it had been, was still a client of Seaward Staffing, they provided payroll services mostly, but from time to time, a temp was found through them as well. Nobody lasted very long there, though. Amadeus wasn't a tough boss by any means, but the work was rather demanding.

They were a very busy deli, and did catering and delivery as well. Having worked there herself since she was a little girl, Olivia knew just how demanding the work really was. And while there were a few employees that had been there for a lengthy period of time, most of the part-timers came and went faster than the changing seasons.

Olivia wasn't sure if she felt like working this weekend. It had been a rough week at Seaward Staffing as it was. Trying to plan their upcoming expansion into Miami was no small order. And being as the Seawards were planning to move down there and manage it themselves, that left Olivia tasked with figuring out what came next for her own agency.

Her own agency. Gosh, it was nice to say that. While it would still be known as Seaward Staffing Services, and Mr. Seaward would still command a profit, as well as hold the final say in any decisions she may make, it would for all intents and purposes be her agency. She would run it. She would staff it. She would be in charge.

Lost in thoughts of what would be, what could be, Olivia was startled by the knock at the door. It wasn't necessarily late, but as she certainly hadn't been expecting anyone, it made her more nervous than curious about who had decided to call on her at this time of the evening on a Friday night. As she crept closer to the door, Spook took off for her usual hiding spot under the couch, her ears pinned back, as she glared at Olivia.

Olivia laughed, trying to calm her own nerves, "it's okay Spook, you silly kitty." She said in what she thought was a soothing voice.

As she opened the door, though, Spook shot out from under the couch, streaking down the hallway, her fur on end, and a loud hiss erupting from her throat.

It was just the distraction he needed. That stupid cat freaking out and darting past caught Olivia's attention at just the right moment.

It was fate.

Carrying a large vase of flowers, and wearing a nondescript gray uniform along with a pair of shades and a wig, he had hoped to gain entrance under the guise of a delivery man. Olivia was his, there was no doubt about that, but he knew it would probably take a little coaxing to get her to comply. So as the cat distracted her, he pulled a small taser from his pocket and shoved it against the smooth column of her throat.

Olivia gasped as the cold steel of the taser pressed into the hollow of her neck. She couldn't see the man that stood before her, there was a large vase overstuffed with flowers between them, but as he walked into the house, closing the door behind him with his foot, she closed her eyes and began to pray silently. When he spoke, his words were low and harsh as he instructed her to head towards her bedroom, she didn't recognize his voice, though she thought she should have.

The sleeves of the uniform he wore were rolled up, and on his forearm was a tattoo of some sort of tribal symbol. Something she could swear she'd seen before. If only she could recall where! Olivia wasn't stupid by any means, she knew what was going to happen next. And she thought, she hoped that perhaps if he let her live, afterward she might be able to somehow identify him or something. She tried to stay calm. Whatever it took to stay alive, that's what she'd do.

Once they got into the bedroom, where Spook could be heard hissing and yowling under the bed, he pushed her face down onto the mattress, holding the taser against the back of her neck so she didn't try to look at him as he placed the flowers on the bedside table and straddled her on the mattress. She could feel the hardness of his shaft in the cleft of her buttocks, and swallowing the bile that rose in her throat she began to cry, hair getting caught in her mouth and forcing her to try and calm down as she gagged.

Her body shook with violent sobs as he applied a blindfold and flipped her over, securing her hands and feet to the bed railings. She tried desperately to stay calm, and when her nerves failed her, she started pleading, begging him not to hurt her.

As he stared down at her, lashed to the bed, and completely helpless, a smile bloomed across his face. She was even more beautiful than he'd ever thought possible. Her skin soft and bronze in the low light of the lamp, the outline of her breasts full and heavy under the thin fabric of her chemise, and despite the tears that tracked down her perfect face, despite her squeaky protests and pleas, he felt the weight of his groin against the fly of his trousers.

He ran a hand down the side of her face, and when she flinched, the beast inside him began to stir. It was bad enough he'd had to restrain her, and worse yet that she had started to cry. This wasn't how he'd imagined it. She'd been willing and pliant in all of his many fantasies. And yet, as she lay there, she tried to struggle against her restraints, pressing herself further into the mattress in an attempt to shrink away from him.

"Stop struggling and you might actually enjoy this Olivia," he whispered in her ear before shoving his tongue deep into the warm canal, sucking at her ear lobe, and causing her sobs to rack her body harder.

The beast was angry now. The bitch wouldn't stop crying. Hadn't he been gentle this whole time? Wasn't he kissing her, caressing her even in the way any woman might want to be touched? He tried to keep the beast at bay, he tried to tamp down the anger and the hatred her cries elicited, but as his hands began to knead her breasts and she jerked away from him, the beast fought to get loose.

He had called her by name! He even had the audacity to tell her she'd enjoy being raped! Try as she might, though, she didn't recognize his voice. He smelled of stale cigarettes and pepperoni, his skin was clammy against her own, and his voice a harsh whisper in her ear.

When he touched her, though, she became panicked. She was sickened by the feel of his hands on her, but her body seemed to react, her fear was an aphrodisiac, and surely it would only turn him on even more. Reacting to that fear, she tried to shy away from him, she bucked and struggled beneath him. Still, he kept touching her, gently, methodically even. It wasn't until she spit at him that he moved away from her.

Her relief, however, was short-lived. He cursed at her, and in the next instant his hand came down across her face. Olivia felt the sting of that slap for what seemed like an eternity before his weight pressed her into the mattress again, and his lips began to softly caress the side of her face where he had slapped her. She cried in earnest now. And she could feel him trembling against her, the steel of his arousal pressing into the hollow of her womanhood, his breath hot and rank on her neck as he whispered words he hoped would soothe her.

He was sorry he had to slap her, but she must not spit at him. She would enjoy this if only she would be still, he said. Please, he begged, just let him love her like she wanted him to. Like she wanted him to? Olivia had no idea who this madman was, but she certainly didn't want him to make love to her! There had to be a way to get him to stop this, but as she continued to try and struggle out of her restraints, as tears flowed down her face in a salty plea, she could tell she was only making him angrier. And she feared he would hit her again.

This wasn't at all as he had planned it, though his body responded, though he was more than ready to take her and claim her body as his own, he just wasn't into it mentally. He needed to find a way to make her stop. To make her understand. He tried teasing her body into submission, and he could feel the way she responded, even if involuntarily, if only she'd quit crying!

The beast had already hit her once, and he'd liked it. If she didn't quit crying, the beast might lash out again. And as a thought came to mind, it took root deep within him, maybe if she was unconscious he could enjoy this a little more. Sure, he'd like to have her cooperation, but if she wasn't capable of giving it to him, he might just have to force her into it.

Pressing the taser into the softness of her flat belly, he leaned closer, whispered into her ear, "this is your last chance Olivia, if you can't stop crying, I'm going to be forced to use this. I don't want to hurt you, Olivia, I only want to love you."

"Then let me go!" she cried, "I promise I won't tell anyone about this!"

He laughed, oh Olivia, sweet naive Olivia. She hadn't seen him, to be able to tell anyone anything, and by the time he was done, there wouldn't be any evidence to prove he'd ever been in her home, to begin with.

"I can't let you go, Olivia, you're mine, and it's time you understand this thing between us."

"You're crazy!"

"Oh Olivia, how I've waited for this moment," he leaned further against her, licking the side of her mouth, sucking her full bottom lip into his mouth as she struggled against him. "You taste exactly how I thought you would." Using one hand, he lifted the bottom of her nightgown and began stroking her soft womanly folds. She gasped, crying out in both panic and pleasure as he fingered her until her body responded with a hot wetness.

The taser still pressed into her belly, he slid himself down her body and tasted her more intimately. Olivia thrashed then, unable to bear it a second longer, one of her knees struck him in the face. The beast broke free then, he reeled back, screamed at her, lashed out and punched her repeatedly in the face as his nose began to bleed profusely.

Olivia shrieked beneath him, her own nose now broken, her lip split open, blood gushing from multiple wounds as he continued to pound on her. The taser finally firing against her inner thigh as he yelled obscenities at her.

He ripped the blindfold from her face then, "look at me bitch!" he shouted.

Her body jerking, an explosion of pain as he pressed the taser between her legs and continued to pull the trigger. She clamped her eyes shut, trying to hold on, trying to fight, as the darkness finally overcame her.

Her last thought before the darkness consumed her was, oh my god, he's going to kill me.

"Be still and you might enjoy it, Olivia." His breath was hot on her skin, his body slick with sweat as he rutted against her. "You belong to me Olivia," he said to her as he stiffened and spilled himself into her. She screamed, her head thrashing from side to side as he laughed at her mercilessly.

"Olivia." He said again, his voice sounding far off. "Olivia, can you hear me? Come back to us Olivia."

No, not his voice. A woman, her baritone soothing and gentle. Olivia struggled to latch onto the sound. Pain ricocheted through her head, color exploding behind her eyelids as she breached the edge of awareness. Perspiration beaded her forehead, her eyes were heavy, and it hurt as she tried to open them. Her mouth was dry, her lips felt two sizes bigger and as she ran her course tongue along them she felt a cavernous split down the middle of her bottom lip.

Where am I? Was her first thought, and though she tried to communicate with the woman who was gently patting her hand, she couldn't force the words out. Her throat felt terribly raw.

"Olivia." The voice said again, "you're awake."

She nodded, or, at least she thought she did. She couldn't be sure. Between the pain and the sense of weightlessness, she didn't know which body parts worked and which ones didn't.

"Olivia, if you can hear me, I want you to try and squeeze my hand."

She tried. Yes, I can hear you, she thought to herself. Where am I? Why can't I move?

"Good, that's good." The voice soothed. "I'm Dr. Henshaw, you're in the hospital, Olivia."

She squeezed her eyes shut, a lone tear leaking out of the side of her swollen oculus.

"We can talk more in a little while, you need to rest. Rest now, Olivia. You're safe here."

Don't leave me! Her mind screamed as the warm sensation of the doctor's hand faded, and a sense of dread crept over her. Olivia had no idea how she'd landed in the hospital, the last thing she could remember was leaving the office. But she hurt, oh how she hurt. She was almost glad she couldn't summon the strength to move her hands, for fear of what she might find. It was so hard to open her eyes more than a little, her lips were split and swollen, she couldn't speak, her throat was dry and screaming, she desperately wanted water.

How did this happen? Who had done this to her? And just how bad was it? She didn't know, and maybe, just maybe it was better that way. Olivia shivered at the thought, vainly hoping there was no permanent damage. And as the blackness swept over her again, she heard his menacing voice once more.

"You belong to me, Olivia."

Olivia woke with a start. Pain shot down her arm as she jarred the IV line in her hand. It was the voice that woke her. Always the voice. She'd been in the hospital for three days now, and this was the first time she'd really been able to control her movements. The hospital staff had been keeping her pretty doped up, she needed her rest they would say when she became the least bit conscious. She'd overheard one nurse once telling someone, she thought it was her brother, that Dr. Henshaw had considered putting her in a medically induced coma.

And that had scared her beyond belief. Just how bad was it exactly? She hadn't had the chance to ask, they were drugging her the second she stirred.

Not this time, though. She'd slept enough damn it! Olivia lay there silently, there wasn't a nurse in the room as far as she could see. Her movements were still limited, it hurt to turn her head too much, and though her eyes still felt puffy and swollen, she could see a little better. Now if only she could get a damn glass of water!

The Doctor came in then, smiling as she pulled a stool up next to the bed and looked over her chart. "You're awake."

Olivia nodded, she didn't bother trying to speak just yet, her throat hurt something fierce. She remembered how it had felt when she was younger and had had her tonsils removed, it was kind of like that, only worse.

"Would you like to try and drink some water?" The Doctor asked pleasantly, reaching for a large hospital mug. "I'm sure you must be thirsty." She placed the straw up to Olivia's mouth and smiled as Olivia took a first tentative sip. "Take it slow. No rush."

Oh but the water felt blessedly cool going down. Her throat burned, and the water was like a river cooling burnt lava. After a few more sips Dr. Henshaw pulled the mug away and set it on the table beside her.

"Do you think you can talk Olivia?"

She hesitated, then nodded. "yes." she croaked, her voice low and more than a little harsh.

"That's good. We'll take it easy. Just yes or no."

Olivia managed a weak smile and nodded again. She didn't want to take it easy. She wanted to know what had happened to her, and she needed to know how bad the damage was.

"Do you remember what happened to you, Olivia?"

"No."

"Okay."

"No." She said again, frustrated now. It wasn't okay. Why would she say it was okay? Olivia shook her head more fervently. "No," she cried.

"It's okay Olivia, you're safe here. I need you to calm down, though." Dr. Henshaw took her hand, patted it. "Your memories will come back to you Olivia, there's no permanent damage. It'll come back to you."

Olivia's tears slid slowly down her cheeks, she nodded. It was good to hear there was no brain damage, it was good to know. But what about the rest? She wanted to ask. What about the rest of me.

Dr. Henshaw seemed to understand, she seemed to see the questions in her eyes. "I'm not going to lie to you Olivia, it's pretty bad."

She squeezed her eyes shut, clutching the Doctor's hand as she cried. Dr. Henshaw waited until she had calmed down before she spoke again.

"I don't think you'll scar Olivia, but you'll be pretty bruised up for a while. I can show you, do you want to see it? Do you want to see your face?"

"Yes," she squeaked between sobs.

The Doctor nodded, grabbed a mirror and held it up to her. Olivia turned her head away and groaned at the site of the damage to her face. She had two black eyes, the blood vessels in her eyes had popped, the whites of her eyes were bloodshot. Her nose was broken, her lips and one side of her cheek split open. Her throat was bruised, the ugly purple and yellow marks in the form of handprints. There were ligature marks on her wrists and she was told, since she could see them, on her ankles as well.

"You're lucky to be alive Olivia. But you're a survivor, you'll get through this."

"How..." she started to say, then "was... I..." she trailed off again, too scared to finish the statement.

Dr. Henshaw put down the mirror, picked up her hand again and gave it a squeeze. Olivia couldn't look at her, though, she didn't want to see the pity in the other woman's eyes. She knew the truth without even asking. She could feel the dull throbbing between her legs. The cramps and the pain as her womb attempted to heal itself.

"Olivia." Dr. Henshaw coaxed. "I can refer you to a good counselor if you'd like."

She turned her face, looked into the eyes of this strong and compassionate woman, and broke. The Doctor leaned forward, stroked a hand along her hair.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay."

But it wasn't okay, it would never be okay again. Someone had attacked her. Someone had raped her and tried to kill her. And she couldn't remember any of it! She wanted to scream, she wanted to yell, but all she could do was cower and cry.

It was hours later before Olivia woke again. After crying for what felt like a long time on the shoulder of Dr. Henshaw, Olivia had succumbed to her exhaustion. And for once she hadn't dreamt of the voice. She hadn't dreamt of a monster chasing her down and forcing himself into her body.

Her brother was at her bedside. He smiled as their eyes met, dirty streaks marred his handsome face as he stared down at his beloved little sister. He'd been crying. He'd been crying for her. Olivia reached a hand up and wiped at the dirty marks. "Hi." She mouthed more than spoke.

"Oh, Olivia!" He cried. "I was so worried about you!"

Olivia shook her head, a sad smile playing over her swollen face.

"What happened to you Olivia, who did this to you?"

"I...don't...know." She managed weakly.

With one hand playing gently with her hair, his other fisted at his side, he grimaced slightly, trying his best to hide it from her. "When I find out who did this to you Olivia..." he said turning away so she couldn't read the anger in his eyes.

She wanted to cry again, and she hoped, oh God she hoped he didn't know that she had been raped. She couldn't bear it if he knew.

A nurse came in then, preventing her brother from saying anything else as he was asked to leave. The nurse checked her vitals, helped her drink some more water, and spooned some warm broth into her mouth as well before telling her that the police were there to see her. Her heart sank a little.

The police.

As if she weren't in enough pain already, now she had to share her anguish with complete strangers. Before the nurse could leave, and show the police in, Olivia grabbed her by the wrist.

"My brother... does he...know?" she asked pleadingly, hoping the nurse would understand.

She smiled, a young plump woman with a smile to rival the Mona Lisa. "No." She said patting Olivia's hand reassuringly. "He doesn't know. I'm going to send in the detectives now. If you get too tired, just press that button over there and I'll run them off, okay?"

Olivia nodded, she tried to smile as well. She wanted to push that button now. She didn't want to talk to the police, she didn't want to have to admit to being raped, admit that she couldn't remember anything. She was ashamed of it all. It didn't matter that it wasn't her fault, she was ashamed of herself. How could she have let something like this happen?

The detectives were very nice. The man, probably in his fifties, was tall and slender with a receding hairline and a soft grandfatherly tone when he spoke. His partner, a woman, who if Olivia had to guess was around forty, was very attractive, with long blonde hair that she pulled back in a ponytail, and a nurturing way of talking, that put Olivia at ease.

They worked sex crimes. And they promised to be patient with Olivia. They had been informed and understood that she didn't remember anything after leaving work, and that she tired very easily at this point.

Detective Ramsey, the woman, sat down beside her bed, held her hand, and nodded accordingly as her Partner, Detective Tomlin prodded her with questions and wrote down her answers. She couldn't tell them much.

They, on the other hand, were able to fill in quite a few blanks for her. All the but the most important of course.

Her cleaning lady, who came in three times a week, Saturday, Tuesday, and Thursday, found her in her bed on Saturday morning, naked, beaten, and barely alive. There was no sign of forced entry, so she had to have let her attacker in, possibly even known him. And there was little to no forensic evidence. Her bed had been stripped, the entire room cleaned with bleach, from the walls, to her mattress, right down to her own body. He had been thorough.

Traces of blood had seeped into her mattress, and the hospital had of course done a rape kit, but they weren't overly hopeful on either account. Her assailant had either taken anything incriminating with him, or thoroughly cleaned everything else. They were certain the blood on the mattress was hers, and the rape kit had shown no signs of trace evidence. He'd scrubbed her completely, inside and out. Even if he hadn't worn a condom, he'd washed away any traces of his DNA. Then he'd tried to kill her. Or at least that's what they assumed.

Thinking her dead, he'd left her there, completely naked and beaten to a pulp, though he'd taken the time to at least wash the blood off of her face and body, why, they couldn't begin to speculate. And thinking about it gave her the worst kind of headache. Long after the detectives left, handing her their card in case she remembered anything, Olivia thought about what they had told her.

Someone had attacked her in her own home, possibly even someone she knew. He had tied her up, beaten her, raped her, cleaned up his mess, and tried to kill her. Would it matter to him that he had failed? Would he try to attack her again? And just how was she supposed to go back into that house now that someone had desecrated it the way he had? For that matter, how could she face Rosa, her housekeeper, knowing how the poor woman had found her, and likely saved her life?

And what about her brother, should she, and could she tell him she had been raped? So many questions, and she without any of the answers. The most important of them all, where did she go from here?

The Placebo Effect is NOW available through Amazon!

As Olivia tries to reclaim her life, learning she's now carrying the child of a rapist, a man that may very well work for her! what will she do next?

And what happens when Olivia literally stumbles into the man of her dreams? Will she tell him about the rape? about the baby? and will he love her anyways?

Read along in this Romantic Suspense, as Olivia and Sebastian work through life's uncertainties together.

Completely oblivious to the fact that something far more sinister is at hand. Someone is watching them, following their every move, plotting against them. For he won't let anyone else have what belongs to him. Even if he has to kill for it.

About the Author

After writing her first novel Contractual Attraction and naming her lead character after two of her favorite hockey players, April decided to write a series of books about two of her favorite things, hockey, and romance! Inspired by the men of the Chicago Blackhawks, The Savannah Slashers Series pays tribute to three of the hottest men in the league while introducing readers to new and intriguing story lines. April currently lives in Florida with her husband and two young sons, where she is hard at work on her next novel! April loves to hear from fellow romance, and hockey enthusiasts, and welcomes comments from readers!

Connect with me!

Follow me on Twitter: <http://twitter.com/amcronin87>

Friend me on Facebook: <https://www.facebook.com/april.cronin.33>

Favorite me at Smashwords: <https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/acronin487>

Follow my blog:http://amcronin87.blogspot.com/

Email me at: mailto:acronin487@gmail.com
