Fearless Maverick by Robyn Grady Page A

scars that made her leg injury seem like a scratch.
                 Alex’s
gaze pierced hers as a different light flashed in his eyes. ‘Are you seeing
someone else?’
                 As if .
                 ‘The
point is, Alex, I didn’t sign up for this.’
                 ‘Sometimes
life throws us a curve ball.’
                 She
coughed out a humourless laugh. ‘Thanks for the tip.’
                 He
studied her and finally blew out a long defeated breath. He even slid a foot
back. ‘Look, what if we calm down and give each other a break?’
                 ‘I
like that idea. On one condition.’ She implored him with her eyes. ‘You don’t
ever try to touch me again.’
                 As
Libby walked out, Alex’s every muscle clenched, ready to leap and drag her
back. Because he didn’t believe her. She wanted him to hold her again. Kiss her again. What the hell was stopping her?
                 He
tried to put himself in her shoes. Seemed her job meant everything to her, as
much as his career meant to him. She didn’t want to jeopardise her reputation
or professional integrity by becoming intimately involved with a client who had
made no secret of his need to attain an early checkmark for his shoulder.
                 But
her need to avoid him went deeper than that.
                 Imagining
her marching out his front door, Alex strode in the opposite direction, down
toward the rowers, then he strode back and, fuelled by frustration, kicked a
treadmill, and kicked it again. He hadn’t felt this keyed up since he was a kid
with no good way to expend his energy. But huffing around and fracturing his
foot wouldn’t help. Learning more about Libby might.
                 His
mobile sat on the ledge outside the sauna. He snapped it up. When Eli answered,
he got to the point. ‘What else do you know about Libby Henderson?’
                 Silence
echoed down the line before Eli replied, ‘What’s wrong? She’s not doing her
job?’
                 ‘Eli,
I’ll give you three seconds. What else do you know?’
                 Eli
blew out a long breath before he began to talk, and as he explained and the
pieces fell into place, Alex sank lower and lower until he was sitting,
gobsmacked, on the floor. He cursed under his breath. Tried to shake off the
tingles racing over his skin. He’d had no idea. Not a bloody clue. But now when
he thought about Libby’s cool facade, about the way she’d literally jumped out
of her skin today when he’d reached for her leg …
                 His
gut twisted and his head dropped to his knees.
                 How
did you tell someone something like that? He’d never told anyone about his deepest wounds … the hurts, and
shame, he pushed aside every day.
                 ‘Alex?
You there?’
                 His
stomach churning, Alex lifted his head. He felt wrung out, as if he’d spent a
day behind the wheel navigating the toughest track on the circuit.
                 ‘Yeah,’
he groaned, holding his brow. ‘I’m here.’
                 ‘I’ll
come over.’
                 ‘ No . I’m fine.’
                 ‘It
shouldn’t make a difference—’
                 ‘You’re
wrong, Eli,’ he cut in. ‘It makes a difference.’ Then he asked the obvious. ‘Why
didn’t you tell me?’
                 ‘Because
you didn’t need to know.’
                 Alex
let go the breath he’d been holding. His friend was right. He hadn’t needed to
know about Libby’s accident. When he’d hired her, those kinds of personal
details were none of his business. Now …
                 He
pushed to his feet.
                 That
detail changed everything.
     

  CHAPTER EIGHT