‘Hmmm…’ His green eyes were twinkling suspiciously as they crossed at the net. ‘Am I playing with a closet professional?’
‘How can you even imagine that?’ She grinned at him. ‘I never shriek or grunt when I hit the ball.’
She sliced her first serve so wide it was ungettable. She put her second serve down the T, leaving him standing again. He netted her third serve. The fourth he managed to return in court, but his shot was high enough for her to smash a winner from it. Two games to love. It was a great start.
He walked up to the net, no longer under any delusion that she was an easy beat. ‘Where do you usually play?’
‘At the Chatswood Tennis Club.’
‘How often?’
‘Most Saturday afternoons.’
Until the annual membership fee became due again. She couldn’t risk paying it, not when her job future was still so uncertain and every dollar earned might be important. Her tennis-playing days could soon be over for a long while, but today she was still in good form and very grateful for it.
‘A-grade?’ Ethan asked.
‘Yes.’
He suddenly grinned, which wasn’t the reaction Daisy needed to get from him. ‘What do they call you? The pocket rocket?’
‘No. Just Daisy.’
He shook his head in bemusement. ‘I wouldn’t call you just anything, Daisy Donahue. Compared to all the other women of my acquaintance, you are, without a doubt, the most remarkable.’
The compliment went straight to her head like champagne. The fizz of pleasure completely undermined the wish to bruise his ego. Besides, it didn’t seem possible in the light of his amazing admiration. He should be in a snit over being made to look inadequate against her, but he wasn’t. His voice held a relish for the competition as he tossed ‘Game on!’ at her.
She watched him stroll back to the service line, no lack of confidence in his bearing. She couldn’t help thinking he was the most remarkable man of her acquaintance and she was riven with the temptation to simply go with the flow of attraction wherever it took her. Which would probably be terribly foolish, given her job situation, not to mention the huge difference in their stations in life.
However, both these factors lost all significance in the intensely fought contest that followed the revelation of her ability to play at a highly challenging standard. Ethan stormed through his next service game. She had to fight hard to keep hers. It felt as though every point was an exhilarating win or an anguished loss. He had the greater strength but Daisy was a well-practised tactician and she refused to let his power dominate.
Ethan applauded every particularly skilful shot she made. There was no acrimony at all coming from him, more a bubbling delight running through the banter he carried on at the change of ends, making the game even more stimulating, mentally and physically. Daisy loved every minute of it, loved playing with him, loved the contest of wits and skill and the sweet thrill of his admiring comments. He was gorgeous, marvellous, and it was like a cocktail of sheer joy to be his match on the tennis court.
He gradually won his way back to six games all, then insisted they play a tie-breaker to decide the victor. Somehow beating him didn’t seem important any more, although Daisy still fought hard to take the set. He delivered a fantastic backhand to triumph in the end, and she dropped her racquet to applaud it, wanting to fairly acknowledge the great shot.
In uninhibited joy he leapt over the net, tossed his racquet on top of hers, and before she could even imagine what he intended, he swept her into his embrace, grinning wickedly as he declared, ‘Winner takes the prize.’
He kissed her.
Her heart was still banging away from the exertion of their last rally. Her body was hot. So was his. Whether it was the energy drain of the game, being taken by surprise or the sudden wild surge of need to know him like this, resistance was simply beyond Daisy at that moment. Her arms automatically lifted and wound themselves around his neck, and she kissed him back.
Ethan swiftly took advantage of her surrender to his seductive sensuality, changing his kiss to one of driving passion, tightening his embrace, clamping her lower body to his, and Daisy was bombarded by so many exciting sensations, it was totally impossible to extract herself from them. The desire she’d tried so hard to hold in check burst through her in a raging compulsion to experience all of him.
Her fingers spread into his hair, clasping his head as her mouth ravaged his as intensely as his ravaged hers. Her breasts, pressed so hard against the hot heaving wall of his chest, tingled with wild sensitivity. His hands curled around her bottom, lifting her into a more intimate physical connection. She was acutely aware of his erection furrowing her stomach. It didn’t set off warning signals in her mind. She revelled in his desire for her, the excitement of it consuming all common sense.
With dizzying speed, he broke off their kiss, scooped her up in his arms and was carrying her, striding off the tennis court, mounting the steps to the pool terrace. Her arms were locked around his neck. She didn’t think of questioning his action. She was madly exulting in his strength. Never had a man made her feel so marvellously taken, as though she really was a prize. It was incredibly heady stuff and she nestled her face against his throat, breathing in the intoxicating male scent of him.
He charged into the pool cabana. There was a bed in the back room. A last thread of sanity screamed that she should stop him now, but she didn’t want to. Her whole being yearned to let this happen, to indulge the desire to have Ethan Cartwright, to feel everything he could make her feel. She was twenty-seven years old and no other man had ever affected her so intensely. Her swirling mind rebelled against sanity, against pride, against everything that should stand in the way of letting herself be swept into bed with him.
He stood her on her feet, whipped off her T-shirt and removed her bra in a few breathless seconds. His shirt was discarded just as fast and she was barely conscious of her own semi-nakedness, being so entranced with his. He was beautiful, magnificent, and what she had thought of as untouchable was suddenly there to be touched and she didn’t even have to reach out because Ethan hauled her back into his embrace and was kissing her again, making the excitement of her bared soft flesh pressed against the muscle-toned heat of his even more lusty.
Her hands slid greedily over his powerful shoulders, loving the taut smooth skin, the sense of great strength, of an energy force that was pouring into passion for her. The sheer animal pleasure of feeling him like this completely banished any restraint. She touched everything she could reach—his back, his ears, his thick, silky hair, wildly revelling in the freedom from every inhibition.