Icebreaker by Deirdre Martin Page B

wouldn’t.”
    “Oh really?” Adam looked scornful. “Tell me more about myself, Counselor.”
    “I found out a lot about you this weekend, Adam.” Sinead edged a few inches toward him, affected by how distressed he looked. The urge to comfort him was strong. “I found out you’re generous. And loyal.” Sinead paused thoughtfully. “You know, no one I’ve interviewed has had one bad thing to say about you.”
    “I’m sure you could find a few if you kept digging.”
    “I’m sure, but the point is, people think you’re a great guy. What Ray said about the incident—that you were just doing your job, that it could happen to any player at any time—is the foundation of our argument. The fact that he’s your best friend and holds no malice toward you is huge.”
    Adam looked disturbed. “Please don’t tell me you want to put Ray up on the stand.”
    “If a jury heard about all you do for him—”
    “They’ll think I’m just trying to assuage my guilt,” Adam finished for her bitterly. “And they’d be right.”
    Sinead moved close enough to put a tentative hand on his knee. “I can’t imagine what it was like for you,” she said sympathetically. “What it still must be like for you.”
    “Screw what it’s like for me! Think about what it’s like for him.” Adam scrubbed his hands over his face. He looked exhausted, and the day hadn’t even begun.
    “Ray said it turned you into a loner.”
    “Look,” Adam said sharply. “I refuse to go through that again. Keeping a distance is fine by me.”
    “And what about people who don’t play hockey? Do you ever get close to them?”
    Adam looked skeptical. “Do you get close to people outside of work?”
    Sinead was momentarily caught off guard. “Uh, my family—”
    “Doesn’t count. Do you have any friends?”
    “I’m very close to Oliver,” Sinead retorted.
    “Doesn’t count. He’s your colleague.”
    “It counts,” Sinead insisted. “Why do you want to know?”
    “Turnabout’s fair play, as I told you that night we were at your parents’ pub. I give you personal info, you give me personal info.”
    “We’ve already exchanged information.”
    “Well, I want more.”
    Sinead licked her lips nervously. The conversation had veered off Professional Avenue and was now driving slowly down Personal Info Lane. Which was okay, if it helped draw Adam out, or so she told herself. “Like you, I’m very private. The more someone knows about me, the more vulnerable I feel, and I don’t like feeling vulnerable. I’m a control freak.
    “I can relate to your trying to avoid personal ties,” Sinead continued. “My divorce was a very drawn-out, painful affair. It made me very apprehensive about getting involved in something that could cause me deep personal pain.”
    “That’s why you stick to Oliver.”
    “Yes.”
    “By deep personal pain, I assume you’re talking about a relationship.”
    Sinead felt uncomfortable. “Yes.”
    “Don’t you ever get lonely?” Before she could balk, she realized she had asked him the same question, and he was now firing it back at her.
    “Don’t you?”
    Adam looked stoic. “Sometimes. But that’s the trade-off I had to make.”
    “You chose to make. With hockey players. I don’t see why you have to be walled off from other people.”
    “I’m not.”
    “Whatever you say.”
    Adam looked amused. “Ray told me you were annoyed I’d described you as uptight and prissy.”
    “Ray told me you said I was good-looking.”
    “You are,” Adam said bluntly.
    Sinead’s face felt hot. “Well, thank you,” she murmured.
    Sinead tried to ignore the quiet hum of sexual tension building in the room.
    “We appear not to be discussing my case anymore,” Adam noted, his gaze so direct it was unnerving.
    “Yes,” Sinead agreed, looking down at her lap.
    The tension climbed as Adam leaned over and put his index finger beneath her chin, tilting her face up so he could press his lips to her mouth.