Red Rocket by R. Miller, Brit DeMille

“They call me The Mad Russian for a reason.”
—Viktor Demoskev, VEGAS CRUSH

My reputation as an Enforcer was earned one game at a time. Fighting on the ice for my team is something I take very seriously because I came to the USA to play hockey, not be a celebrity.
Unfortunately, this logic has my public image taking a beating—not that I care very much how others think of me.
Except for her.
Scarlett.
A woman as gorgeous, and fiery, and sexy, as that long red hair of hers. Which would look even more stunning spread out on my sheets with my hands tangled in it all night long while naked, of course.

It is unfortunate that she also works for the team. In Public Relations… So yeah, the no-fraternization policy is an issue but hardly my main concern. The biggest hurdle is Scarlett thinking I’m part of a gambling ring for the Russian Mafia.
Crazy, right?
I can deal with setting her straight about her ridiculous suspicions, but cracking through that hard shell she has built around her broken heart? This is my real challenge.
But oh how I love a good fight. Winning is everything to me.
Especially when the prize is the Las Vegas beauty I named the Red Rocket…