Winning It All by Wendy Etherington Page B

he didn’t believe that was all professional instinct. There was an extra bond between them, something that gleamed in her tawny eyes only occasionally, but that was all the more powerful for its brevity.
    “Be still for a minute,” she said, her voice seeming to float over him. She laid her hand on his shoulder. “Let go of the negative energy. Push it away.”
    Amazingly, he already had. Maybe even from the moment she’d walked into his life.
    Her fingertips drifted across his cheek, and he was fairly certain that wasn’t part of her normal routine. “I’m going outside. When you’re ready we can—”
    He snagged her hand.
    She stilled beside him, though he held only her fingertips. He could hear her breathing and only a hint of the background music. So much of him centered on her. Maybe he had from the first. Maybe being drawn to each other wasn’t sensible, or the path they should have taken, but he’d somehow committed to that fork in the road.
    And he had no intention of turning around.
    He opened his eyes and found her staring down at him. Her golden eyes held curiosity and wariness. He wanted to know what else she hid. What other secrets and pleasures might be revealed?
    “Will there be more kissing?” He threaded his fingers through hers and added, “Just wondering if I should be prepared to have you grab me again.”
    She glared at him. “Hey, you grabbed me, too. The grabbing is, in fact, tied—one each.”
    “Who do you think will be the first one to break the tie?”
    “Not me.”
    “Then I will.”
    “No.”
    “Why?” It was a reasonable question, though she looked even more annoyed. He liked that she was flustered. It was cute, and she could hardly find too much fault with his honesty. That was her credo, right?
    “Don’t smile at me like that,” she said with that guarded look still in her eyes. “You’re supposed to be bitter and brooding.”
    “I don’t feel like doing that today.” In fact, he could almost call what he was doing flirting. Very weird. And though he was seriously out of practice, the instinct seemed to come naturally when he was with Darcy.
    “You didn’t seem to think the kissing was so hot last night,” she said.
    “Oh, it was hot. I just didn’t think it was smart.” He’d also been embarrassed by his impulsiveness. These days he thought through his actions very carefully before he made them. “But knowing you have as little self-control as I do has changed my attitude. I’m all for more kissing.” Keeping a hold on her hand, he sat up. “Wanna try again?”
    “You’re a client.”
    He scooted off the massage table. “Not anymore.” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Nice work on the knee, by the way. It feels better.”
    “You’re welcome, but you’re changing the subject. I don’t go around kissing clients.”
    “Good.” He tucked her arms around his neck. “I’m possessive.”
    She squirmed, but he held her by her waist. “Bryan, I really need to—”
    “Kiss me. Let’s try again. On purpose this time.”
    While he puckered, she searched his gaze. He had no idea what she was looking for and was reluctant to say anything more and screw up his chances.
    “Okay,” she said quietly a moment later.
    Her eyes were still full of anxiety.
    It wasn’t a promising start.
    Before he could question their decision, or she decided to back out, he leaned toward her, cupping her face in his palm. He stroked his thumb across her jaw, then laid his mouth over hers.
    His memory hadn’t exaggerated the wild, swooping feeling in his stomach, or the taste and smell of vanilla, plus something fruity, spicy, unique to Darcy.
    Her lips trembled, and his heart lurched in response. What had started out as teasing had become something else. Serious. Meaningful. It had been a long time since anything in his life but the race team and his family meant something. Concern crawled over him like a rash.
    But neither did he want to let go of