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“No. I’ve just got to adjust my pace a bit.”
A lot, as it turned out. She was dynamite on the court. Not only could she hit the ball with considerable power, her tactical play was terrific, running him around, lobbing over his head, killing him with deft drop shots. He’d just managed to catch up with her at three games each when she decided to strip off and his concentration was blown to pieces.
Underneath the tracksuit was one of those jazzy little aerobics outfits, stretch shorts and a midriff top in shiny lime green and lemon, very tart and spicy. She blitzed him for the rest of the set and Matt couldn’t bring himself to care. People talked about poetry in motion. Her cute sexy bottom, her flashing, fabulous legs, and her bountiful bouncing breasts would have made the most illiterate man in the world wax lyrical.
“Had enough?” she asked sweetly, having trounced him six games to three.
Matt couldn’t help blurting out what was on his mind. “Are you counting on a long celibate period or are you ready for marriage right now?”
It stunned her speechless for several seconds. They’d met at the net after the last point played and he could see her cornflower eyes glaze in disbelief at the up-front question. She recovered slowly, the glaze giving way to a mocking challenge.
“Given the right man, I’d marry him like a shot. The problem is in finding him. At my age, that’s akin to finding a needle in a haystack. The best ones are already taken and the rest have other agendas.”
A touch of bitterness there. Matt figured she’d been recently let down and was still hurting from it. “How old are you?”
She shrugged, uncaring what he thought of her. “I’m twenty-eight and the years are getting faster.”
“Not so old that you’re out of the race.”
“My sister is twenty-six, married to a great guy, and she’s just had her first baby. Right now I’m feeling very old, very alone, and totally depressed with life in general. A roll in the hay will not fix me up so don’t bother thinking it. On the other hand, another set of tennis...”
“You’ve got it.”
He grinned to himself as he headed down to the end of the court, ready to play again. He had her pegged now. She was using him as a whipping boy for the guy who’d punched out her self-esteem. Several things she’d said over lunch fell into place. Dying her hair I made her feel better. No one was going to take her for a blond bimbo anymore. Matt figured her last lover had done a real number on her, no doubt about it.
But she’d come out fighting.
Choosing such flamboyant colours for her hair was not only a rebellious statement but an aggressive one. She was showing plenty of aggression on the tennis court, too. As for riding a Ducati...Peta Kelly had a lot of guts. No way was she going to hide in a hole and lick her wounds. Her attitude reeked of thumbing her nose at the whole damned world.
Matt admired her for it. He’d always admired people who picked themselves off the floor and got on with life. He wished his mother would do it. With any luck, Peta Kelly might be a good influence on her. She might also be the needle in the haystack he’d been looking for.
The lust she stirred gathered an exhilarating edge of excitement. He played particularly well in the second set of tennis, giving her the workout she wanted and enjoying every minute of it. Sweat made her even sexier. He could see her being very athletic in bed, not the passive type expecting him to do all the work. Making babies with her could be a real pleasure.
He won the set six games to three, matching her previous victory.
“Found your rhythm,” she remarked dryly as they met again at the net.
“Feeling good,” he agreed. “Are you ready to have a baby?”
“What?”
“Like your sister. You said she had a baby recently.”
A sigh of exasperation. “She happens to be married. I don’t think being a single parent is the best idea in the world.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Every kid needs a dad as well as a mum. But suppose you find your right man and he puts a wedding ring on your finger, would you be prepared to start a family straight away?”
“Yes, I would.” Very emphatic.
“What about your career?”
“I’d give it up.”
“Just like that?”
“It’s only a job,” she declared defiantly. “You serve a million people, clean up after them...what’s so great about that? I’d rather serve my own children.” She made a rueful grimace. “Though I could probably get work in airline administration if we needed the money. With the cost of living what it is, most families can only survive on a double income these days.”
“Wouldn’t you miss the glamour of travel?”
