Tess frowned. "She's going out with Aurora and the other godmothers for high tea and a little shopping. I thought you knew."
"She's what?" Max pressed the intercom button. "Driver—"
"Don't bother," Tess told him, "they've already gone." She leaned back in her seat, still damp from her short run through the rain to get to the limo. Her hair was stuck to her cheeks and forehead, but she didn't bother to do anything about it, She wore the same shorts and T-shirt she'd had on out on the practice court earlier, only now they were damp and clinging to her skin. Her long legs sprawled out between them, all tanned and toned.
His body stirred and he made himself look away. "Never mind," he told the driver, then released the intercom. "So, did you set up that little adventure?" His tone was a little terse, but then, wasn't that exactly the kind of thing Tess would do? "She needs to stay on track for tomorrow. The last thing she needs is to be gallivanting all over London. She could be mobbed."
Tess just stared at him, arms folded.
"Okay. All right." He made himself hold her gaze. "I'm sorry," he said. And he meant it.
"Wow. That must have hurt."
He sighed. What was it about her that brought out the worst in him? Or maybe he was just subconsciously sabotaging any chance he had to be himself with her. "So tell me, what exactly is going on?"
Tess shrugged. "You've got me. I can only guess, with the godmothers' hand in this, they're trying to play matchmaker again."
He couldn't tell from the tone of her voice how she felt about that particular idea, so he opted to say nothing.
"Gaby and I went into the players' locker room to wait out the rain, see if we could get back on the practice court," Tess went on. "When that didn't look like it was going to happen, Aurora got the idea to take Gaby out for high tea and contacted Vivian and Mercedes."
"And you weren't going to go along?"
"Believe it or not, I do have some common sense. The godmothers are very good at what they do. Spiriting Gaby out for the afternoon for tea won't be that much of a challenge. Trust me when I say that Gaby will enjoy herself in privacy. But keeping me incognito is another story. And me and Gaby in public together was just asking for trouble." She gave him a pointed stare. "As the closest thing she has to a coach, I wanted to make sure she had a nice time, got a little break, but also kept her focus. We agreed that if the weather clears, they'll get her home in time so we can practice at Wexley later on."
Max blew out a breath. He wasn't happy with this little turn of events, and Aurora's high-handedness, but he knew she was probably hoping for this exact thing to happen. Max and Tess alone together. And though he had no idea what he was going to do with the opportunity they'd presented him with… he couldn't say he was exactly upset about it. "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. Knee-jerk reaction. I should know better by now."
"And here I was just getting used to you always thinking the worst of me." She shifted her gaze out the window. With the rain running down the tinted glass there wasn't much to see, but apparently that was preferable to looking at him.
He couldn't say he blamed her.
Max watched her for a moment or two longer. She was right. He was always jumping to the worst conclusion where she was concerned. Initially it had been to protect Gaby. But he'd known for some time now that she had Gaby's best interest at heart every bit as much as he did. She might have different ideas on how to handle things like media scrutiny and the like, but she'd never once jeopardized Gaby's training schedule or anything else.
He'd also started to see the real woman behind the bad-girl image… and he was undeniably intrigued. He understood that it was a lot harder for her, this new life she'd entered into, than she let on to anyone. She was trying to find her way, just like the rest of them. And doing him and his sister a huge favor in the meantime. Yes, he was very intrigued. And undeniably attracted. Hence that stupid, impulsive kiss yesterday.
But the bottom line was, she was Tess Hamilton, tennis superstar. In a few days' time, she would flit off to some other world event and leave the two of them behind.
Gaby was going to really miss her. But even harder to admit was how much he was going to miss her, too. He'd gotten used to having her bubbling enthusiasm around, and he even liked her somewhat jaded view of the world. Yet she was always optimistic, always upbeat. Hell, he even liked sparring with her. The truth was, he looked forward to it. She kept him on his toes. He never knew exactly what to expect. Every time he was around her, he was more aware, more alive. Just… more.
Maybe he was still so insistent on finding that bad side of her because that would make it easier to let her walk away.
"I don't think the worst of you, you know," he said quietly. When she said nothing and kept her gaze locked on the window, he nudged her foot with his. "I wanted to. Would have made things a lot easier. But I was wrong about you."
That had her looking at him, surprise and wariness both on her face. "Oh?" Her lips quirked. "Gee. Where is the media when you really need them? This is the front-page moment right here." She laughed, but there wasn't much humor in it.
"They're trying to paint us as some hot couple. If they only knew the real story, huh?"
Just let it go, he schooled himself. Let the moment go. She's out of your life in three days. You apologized, you made peace. Leave the rest alone.
And yet, somehow, where Tess was involved, impulse always seemed to rule the day.
"What is the real story?" he asked her.
Judging from her expression, that had caught her off guard. Good. He didn't want to be the only one sitting here with sweaty palms and a heartbeat that wasn't quite regular.
"What do you mean, 'what is the real story'?"
Of course she'd lob it back in his court. He'd hoped she'd answer, at least give him some guidance on just how big a fool he was about to make of himself. "I guess what I mean is… we've been dancing around each other for the past twenty-four hours and going out of our way to pretend nothing happened yesterday. Like it was just another fabrication of the press or something. Why is that, do you suppose?"
She shifted in her seat a little, and for the first time since he'd known her, she didn't look so confident and in control. He'd seen her nervous for Gaby. He'd seen her grapple with the emotions stemming from her new view from the sidelines of a game she'd dominated in the not so distant past. But he'd never quite seen her like this—not meeting his gaze, fingers tangled in her lap, the toes of her sneakers tapping against each other.
It was on the tip of his tongue to just tell her to forget he'd brought it up. To save them both from this conversation. But it was hard to speak and hold his breath at the same time.
Finally she looked up, met his gaze. Her eyes were darker than he'd ever recalled seeing them. A deep sea-green. Christ, now he was being poetic. He was a goner. Truly a goner.
"You kissed me back," he blurted. Oh, great move, you idiot How smooth are you? His teenage sister was right. He had to get a life. She probably had smoother moves than he did. God, that was an image he didn't need at the moment. "Why?" he asked, trying desperately to sound casual, as if this were nothing more than a business conversation.
She didn't look away. And when she tipped her chin up, ever so slightly, he relaxed a little. This was the Tess Hamilton he knew. That vulnerable Tess he'd just gotten a glimpse of scared him a little. He knew how to handle the bold, brash Tess. He couldn't get them back on their proper footing, but he knew he could count on her to do that for them both.
So, prepared for some smart-ass response, it was a bit of a shock when she said, "Because I wanted to."
He swallowed. Hard.
"In fact, I'd been thinking about it for a while."
Palms, sweatier. Heartbeat, thundering. Throat, completely dry. "Yeah," he managed. She'd put it out there. It was only fair he did the same. "Me, too."
And then she smiled. It was a slow, sweet curving thing that lit up her whole face and brought the sparkle
back to her eyes. "God, we're a disaster, aren't we?"
"Why do you say that?"
She laughed a little, only this time it filled him with warmth, Like he wasn't already on fire. But this warmed him somewhere else, somewhere deep inside.
"It's just, here we are, successful, talented, worldly, with at least a certain amount of sophistication. We're single, not altogether hard on the eyes, and I doubt either of us ever had to work too hard to find a date on any given night."
"Speak for yourself," he said wryly.
"Oh, that's only because you don't try. And I thought I took my job too seriously at times." She waved away his attempt to respond. "You have dated, right? On the rare occasion?"
"Yes, but they were never—"
"Just answer the question. Were you ever turned down for a date?"
He had to stop for a second. "No, I guess not. But it was usually business."
She barked out a laugh. "For you, maybe. But this just proves my overall point."
"Which is?"
She settled back in her seat, and let her feet rest against his. "That we're both kind of screwups when it comes to anything resembling an actual relationship. Sure, we can date, we can mingle, we can socialize. Some of us can actually fling." She paused for a second. "What, no snarky comment about my less than savory social past?"
Other than the irrational jealousy he suddenly felt for a raft of guys he didn't know and had never met? No. "Just finish making your point."
The corner of her mouth tilted a bit, and she looked like she wanted to call him on that, but she went on. "I'm just saying we don't know how to have normal, long-term relationships. It's easy to date when it doesn't matter. But when it comes to figuring out stuff when it does matter, well, we are rather inept."
"Maybe, But I think the kind of lives we lead make long-term arrangements difficult. That more than anything else is why I don't date a lot. And maybe why you 'fling,' as you say. What else is there, given our schedules?"
She held his gaze for a moment, and his heart skipped a beat, But then she said, "Bobby figured it out. Other players have figured it out. It can be done."
"Maybe we've been too busy focusing on other things."
"Maybe." She glanced down at her hands, then back up at him, then back down at her hands again.
She was nervous. And for whatever reason, that helped him to relax. "So… are you saying that it matters?"
She shrugged her shoulders, kept her gaze in her lap. "I'm saying that maybe that's why we've been so obnoxious with each other. It's like we're suddenly in the schoolyard and you're pulling my pigtails and I'm shooting spitballs at you because we don't know what to do with this other stuff we seem to rile up in each other. So we punch the buttons we do know how to handle instead."
Max grinned now. "Are you saying I rile you up?"
She shot him a look, snorted. "When haven't you riled me up? It's like your life's mission or something."
His smile stayed in place. But he didn't. He shifted across the space between them and sat beside her. Her eyes widened in surprise, and maybe a teeny bit in alarm, but she stayed where she was. "I'm not talking about that kind of riled."
She held his gaze for what felt like an eternity. "Neither was I."
He thought his heart might pound right out of his chest. "So what are we going to do about this lapse in our social development?"
"Ignoring it doesn't seem to be working out too well."
"No," he agreed. "No, it doesn't."
"There's Gaby to consider," Tess said, clearly looking for anything to hang on to.
Max noted the way her eyes went darker as he shifted even closer. "Who is second only to Aurora in playing matchmaker."
"You know," she said, shifting toward him, "I'm not going to be around much longer."
"Only if you don't want to be." He bent his head down toward hers.
She pulled back slightly. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you could keep coaching Gaby, travel with us. But I really don't want to talk business—"
"We need to talk, Max. I need to tell you someth—"
"Tess, for once, business later. Come here." He slid his hand around the back of her head and tilted her mouth up to his, "I've been dying to do this pretty much from the moment I stopped doing it yesterday," He kissed her, gently at first. "And call me greedy, but I want you all to myself. No cameras, no crowd."
She murmured against his lips as he kissed her again, then gave up and let him kiss her. Slowly, almost shyly, she shifted a little to allow them both a better fit. He felt her fingertips skate across the back of his neck, tentatively.
This wasn't the Tess he knew. The feel of her touching him, the way her skin warmed beneath his touch, the scent of her shampoo as he pulled her to him and damp strands of her hair slid across his face, all combined to drive him wild. He took the kiss deeper, heard her make a noise, deep in her throat, which drove him to take it even further.
He pushed her back, and they slowly slid down onto the leather bench seat. And then she was opening for him, letting him take the kiss deeper, her fingertips biting into the skin on the back of his neck and shoulders as she pulled him closer.
He was never so thankful for a limo in his life. Plenty of room, tinted windows… and a discreet driver tucked safely away on the other side of a nice, opaque privacy screen.
He liked how she fit beneath him. Her legs tangled with his, all long and strong. She lifted her hips, and pressed right into his, making him groan. He buried his hands in her hair, holding her so he could continue the long, slow, torturous kisses. Then she was gripping his shoulders, kissing him back, dueling with him for control. Breathing heavily, he shifted his attention to the long line of her jaw, alternating kisses and gentle nips along the soft skin leading to the side of her neck.
She turned her head, allowing him access, groaning a little herself as he took full advantage. He buried his face in her hair, his lips next to her ear. "It's insanity, you know, how badly I want you."
"Why insane?" she asked, breathless herself, her hips still restless beneath him, driving him completely wild.
"You make me want to lose control." He nudged her, made her turn so she looked at him. "I never lose control."
A slow smile curved her lips. "Well, don't you think it's about time you started?"
He matched her smile with one of his own. "Yeah, I think maybe it is."
This time the kiss was far hungrier, and there was nothing shy or tentative about her response. Losing control was followed quickly by losing all restraint. He wasn't sure who started pulling off damp T-shirts first. He was too caught up in exploring every inch of her to care. She writhed beneath him, held his head where she wanted it, then gasped in delight when he did whatever he damn well pleased. And pleased her, as well.
Shorts quickly followed shirts. He'd seen most of her already, as had most everyone in the Northern Hemisphere. Southern, too, come to think of it. Her clothing choices on court over the years had often left little to the imagination.
She left nothing to his now.
And he couldn't help but to simply stop and stare in abject appreciation,
"What?" she asked, her gaze so needy, so hungry.
"You. You're stunning."
She grinned, but it was the pink that darkened her cheeks a little that charmed him most.
"You're pretty damn amazing yourself." She gently drew her nails up along his back, traced them over his shoulders, then down along his chest, making him shudder in anticipation. "Lucky me." Then she laughed as she buried her fingers in his hair and tugged him back down.
And he very willingly allowed her to take his mouth, only he slowed it down this time, lingered rather than conquered, until she was moving more slowly, sinuously beneath him. Only then did he slide down her body, taking time to inventory every inch along the way. She was writhing, moaning, demanding. And it was highly likely she was leaving footprints on the interior of the roof of the limo. Normall
y that kind of thing would worry him. However, his biggest concern at the moment was digging a condom out of his wallet, which was twisted up and tangled in his shorts pocket.
"Here," she said, her voice throaty and rough, "let me." She snagged the packet from him and ripped it open with her teeth.
For whatever reason, that look, that wild grin she shot him while she did it, made him laugh. She joined him, and somehow they ended up sliding to the floor of the limo, still laughing as they untangled themselves just enough for her to take matters into her own hands. And then he was sliding on the opposite seat and pulling her into his lap. He groaned long and deep as she slid down on top of him. "Sweet—Tess. I've never felt anything… you're so incredibly…"
"Perfect," she said, groaning as she took him deep, bracing her hands on the seat behind him as she began to move. "That you definitely are."
"Come here." He turned her head, took her mouth in a kiss every bit as binding as their bodies were.
Then there was no more talking. It was just the two of them, finding their rhythm, finding each other, mouths joined, bodies joined, moving faster, then faster still, their moans filling the rapidly steaming inside of the limo as the rain continued to drum down.
"Max," she panted along his jaw, then buried her face in his neck, her body tightening around him, little whimpers escaping her as she bucked against him once, then again.
"Tess," he said, then groaned as he felt her begin to climax. He pulled her hips down, holding on, until she cried out—and drove him right over the edge after her.
When the bucking finally stopped, both of them were breathing heavily. He slid sideways and shifted their bodies so she was sprawled on top of him. Both of them so spent, they just lay there for several long minutes, their chests rising and falling. Slowly other sounds filtered in. Rain beating on the moon-roof glass. Cars idling in the lane nearby as they rolled to a stoplight. Muted sound of a bass stereo throbbing the air. Laughter from someone, somewhere outside.
Then the limo moved on, and it was quieter again. And all he heard was his own heartbeat. And the feel of hers, thumping against his chest.
Not So Snow White Page 30