Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
DANE
Alright, so I wasn’t exactly known for being levelheaded.
My reaction to the campground Mr. Knight’s transport had brought us could have been better.
Truth was, it wasn’t even that bad. I was just knackered. Exhausted from traveling with this band of merry idiots.
Fine .
It was more than that. Ever since this deal went through, I’d been out of sorts.
I was aggravated about the whole bloody purchase of my team by that feckless American billionaire.
I didn’t want to be uprooted. Taken from my country and brought to this place where the people didn’t know shit about rugby.
I’d already given my whole life to the sport. Rugby wasn’t just a game to me. It was my identity, my passion, my reason for waking up every morning.
From the moment I first picked up a ball as a kid, I knew this was it. Rugby was mine.
The thrill of the game coursed through my veins like a potent elixir, fueling late-night practices and early morning training sessions. I had dreams—big ones.
I was slated to play for the All Blacks, the New Zealand national team, the very pinnacle of rugby achievement.
But that dream shattered the day an injury brought my career to a crashing halt. It happened in an instant—one moment I was charging down the field, adrenaline pumping, and the next, I was on the ground, pain radiating through my leg like a wildfire.
The world had blurred around me as I realized something was very, very wrong. It wasn’t just the physical pain. It was the gut-wrenching fear of what this injury could and did mean for my future.
No. I never made it to the All Blacks. But I wasn’t done with this sport yet. Now, I was coaching. Something I swore I would never do.
The transition was tough at first. But I was slowly finding my way.
After that fucker, Mitchell Knight, bought us, he sent a dozen Americans to train with us until the lease for our club ran out.
They were surprisingly alright guys. I’d expected poor players, but that was bad of me. Some of the newcomers had even followed my career, which was astounding to me.
I never made it, far as I was concerned. But I guess some people remembered me.
The press used to call me Great Dane . Some still do. It was because of my size, of course, and not any rep I had for being a dog with the ladies. I’d had affairs, of course. But nothing spectacular.
Nothing like her.
Ironic that the billionaire bastard who bought my team had named us the Carolina Rovers. Our logo was a big snarling beast of a dog—you probably guessed what kind.
That’s right. It was a Great fucking Dane in a blue spiked collar.
But all of my baggage wasn’t the fault of the curvy woman spitting fire at me with her near black eyes.
Here I was, banished to Wops, North Carolina, and this woman, who happened to be named Carolina, had me completely flummoxed.
Was I drooling?
I managed not to wipe my mouth, but only just. I knew I was being a right prick. Just like I knew I had to stop.
But there was just something about her that drew my total awareness to her instantly, pulling me in like a moth to a flame. Keeping my attention like a dog with a bone.
I was used to women who bent under the force of my intensity. Ones who found my size and presence intimidating, often giving way to my demands. But not her.
Thank fuck.
I never enjoyed feeling like a bully. It was why I was still single.
This woman, though, she stood her ground, meeting my glare with a defiant fire that caught me off guard.
Like she was challenging me, daring me to bring my worst, and for a moment, I felt the ground shift beneath me.
There was an undeniable spark in the air, a tension that crackled like static electricity. But it was more than physical. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deeper beneath her tough exterior.
Maybe it was the way her lips curved into a smirk when I got riled up or how her eyes sparkled with mischief and cheek.
Whatever I did, and I meant that in a take your pick kind of way, not an I’m innocent kind of way, I’d definitely gotten a reaction out of her. Like a fierce little kitten her fur was sticking up, fangs bared, and bloody hell, could she hiss.
It was a reminder that I wasn’t the only one who had baggage.
I wonder what hers is. Wonder if I can carry the load for a while.
I shook my head roughly. What the heck was she doing to me? Was she a witch or something?
She was small. A short little thing. Barely five-two. But the rest of her, good God, the woman was fit. There was no denying that.
Several of the guys were staring, and I growled at them, making more than one avert their gazes.
Fucking pricks.
Something in me rose like a great green beast at the thought of those bastards perving on her. I didn’t want to look too closely at it right now.
But I also wasn’t so shallow to think that was the only reason she had me mesmerized. This woman, Carolina DeLusso , made me curious.
I knew better. Really, I did. But instead of apologizing and falling to my knees like I ought to have, of course, I doubled down on my asshole behavior. Clinging to it with both of my meaty fucking paws like it was a lifeline.
Fucking numpty.
The last woman I dated used to fall apart if I so much as growled. She was always whinging and moaning at me.
But this woman? No, I didn’t cower her. Not one bit.
I was aware of my team in the periphery of my vision. The lads were getting a good fucking show, and that pissed me off more.
I didn’t want them looking at her, seeing her, hearing her, smelling her.
Fuck. Could they smell her? I sure as fuck could.
She smelled like peaches and sweet cream. Like days filled with promises and nights filled with sin.
She smelled good. Very good. Just as good as she looked.
Suddenly, I wanted her all for myself. Hardly aware we were still going back and forth with this whole thing, I was so damn busy trying to get a grip on my emotions, I didn’t register what she was saying until it was too late.
“Normally, Mr. Barret, I would say I’d handle it, but you know what? I QUIT!”
Wait. What?
Did I seriously just make this gorgeous female quit her job on the spot? Fuck. I had to do better.
“Get a fucking move on,” I yelled at the guys still hanging around.
I could see she tried hiding her body beneath her oversized sweater and leggings, but they only emphasized her hourglass figure and pinup girl curves.
The tits on her could fill even my hands and that ass. Christ!
My cock had perked up the second I caught sight of it when she turned round to slam her car door shut.
This woman was all sass and grit. Besides her gorgeous figure, her sweetheart of a face was just so damn pretty.
She had full, soft looking lips I could already picture wrapped round my cock. Her eyes were a deep, velvet brown fringed with even darker lashes. And that mouth.
Fuck me .
My gaze was glued to it. The woman had a devil’s mouth, and I couldn’t wait to hear what came out of it next. I stared into those captivating eyes, and a flicker of something new, of possibility, flashed through me.
Just like lightning.
Maybe, just maybe, I could have more than life as an ex-rugby player. Maybe I didn’t have to weather it alone.
But first, I had to figure out how to stop being a jerk. I opened my mouth to speak, but the little spitfire was all riled up and turned around.
I fought the smirk that teased the corner of my mouth, recalling how she stomped her tiny little feet and came toe to toe with me. It was like watching a sparrow confront a hawk.
She was tiny but fierce, and there was a thrill in her defiance that was hard to ignore. Of course, I had to look down to meet her stormy gaze. She stood at least a foot shorter than my six foot three-inch frame.
“Look, I am sorry about Steven, the bus driver. He shouldn’t have parked so close,” I said, crossing my arms just to stop myself from reaching for her.
“Well then, Steven can find a hose to wash it off. As for you all,” she said, turning back to me one more time.
She shook her head, her gaze sweeping over all thirty-six of my guys and me.
“Here’s a list of your cabin assignments. They’ve been cleaned and prepped for your arrival. If there is anything else you need,” she said, a false smile in her tone before she turned back to face me with a snarl on her pretty lips, “figure it the fuck out yourself!”
Then she turned again, flashing that gorgeous arse my way, an adorable little switch when she walked, and stormed back to the tiny little car she’d been driving.
The men hooted and hollered, but I shut them up with a sharp whistle. I felt like a total idiot. Couldn’t believe I let my temper cause this little woman to quit her job.
“Wait! Come on,” I yelled louder, jogging to reach her side as another roll of thunder shook the sky.
“Give that here, Coach,” Koa Jackson, our record-breaking number 8, said and grabbed the clipboard with our bunk assignments she’d tossed at me.
He started shouting orders at the team, and I was grateful for the help. I’d do it myself, but I was occupied at present. I had other things to do.
Like learn to fucking grovel.
“Miss DeLusso, can I have just a second,” I said.
Sassy little thing ignored me, cursing under her breath, using her sleeve to try to wipe the mud off the handle.
“Go away,” she mumbled.
“Carolina, just let me try?—”
“Is that another touchdown joke? Anyway, no. You have no reason to try anything with me,” she replied cheekily,
“Stop. You’re ruining your shirt,” I muttered.
For some reason, watching her try to wipe that mud off with her pristine little sweater was making me feral.
“What do you even care?” she asked, shrugging her small shoulders and ignoring me as she patted her pockets and started checking in her bag.
I assumed she was looking for her keys.
“Why don’t you come sit down and we can have a chat?”
“Nope. No, thank you,” she said.
Rain started to fall, and I rolled my eyes to the heavens.
Her sweater was white.
Why God? Why must you test my strength this way?
Her big brown eyes widened as she continued to search her bag and pockets. The rain fell harder. It was almost blinding now, and the guys were grabbing their rucksacks and running to their cabin assignments. I didn’t have to worry about them.
But her? I was worried, alright. Her car was smaller than one of those golf carts, and the road into this camp had been muddy when we got here and that was before this rain.
“Carolina, come inside,” I yelled over the boom of more thunder.
“What are you still doing here? Go away,” she mumbled.
I had two seconds of staring at her tight little buds peeking through her now see-through top before she realized two things at the same time.
First, that I was standing there, gaping at her glorious breasts, and second, she must have left her keys inside the car.
“No, no, no,” she growled and dropped her bag, typing rapidly on her phone.
Shit.
I felt like a huge asshole. I did all this. I fucked up this woman’s day by acting like a giant tool.
“Hey, Coach! That’s your cabin there. Me and the lads are off!” Koa yelled over the storm.
“That’s it, you are coming inside. We’ll get dry and figure this out,” I told her.
“What? I am not going with you!” she shouted as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky.
“Well, I’m not leaving you out here to drown,” I growled.
Then I did what I did best.
I used brute strength to get what I wanted. And that was her warm and dry, and tucked safely in my arms.
“Hold on,” I murmured, bending down and grabbing her behind the knees.
She yelped as I stood with her over my shoulder.
“Ah! Put me down! How dare you!”
“Oi! Stop wiggling or we’ll both fall in the mud,” I barked with a small slap against her sweet, curvy ass.
That got her attention.
She froze, but I kept that hand right on her plump posterior as I jogged up the stairs to my designated cabin.
“What’s the code?” I asked, taking a chance she’d know as I looked at the keyless entry.
“They’re all set to 1234 until you change them.”
“That’s good,” I said, punching in the numbers quick as, then I crossed the threshold with my precious cargo.
“Okay. We’re inside now,” she said.
“Yep. That we are.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?” I asked, turning in a circle and looking for something I could use to wipe the rain off my face.
“Put me down!”
Oops.
I probably should have at that.