Shaking her head that he counted that ridiculous serve as a point, she again bounced on the balls of her feet, preparing to receive a real serve.
He stood up straight and ran a hand over the back of his neck. “You sure about this? I figured we’d save it until you improved defensively, like Dom wants.”
Penny’s eyes narrowed. “Just hit the damn ball.”
“Your funeral,” he muttered, but loud enough for her to hear, before his body coiled and exploded through the ball.
She got her racket on it and blocked it back, but the combined speed of the ball and the tight strings of her racket sent it sailing long.
“Thirty–love.”
That was the best serve she’d ever seen. She’d played against men who could hit as hard, but this was in another category altogether. A wicked spin combined with thevelocity, even with the clay slowing it down a little, made it sheer luck she got her racket on it. Apparently, reports of his knee injury were grossly exaggerated. No one could blast a serve like that on a blown-out knee. Crossing to the other side of her court, she prepared again, taking a step back this time to compensate for the velocity. His face was stone, no emotion—all business.
Alex fired another serve out wide, sending her lunging. This time her return landed in play. Her feet caught up underneath her and she changed direction, knowing he would counter crosscourt.
She hit the ball in stride, launching it back across the court. For a split second, she watched the gorgeous backhand fly to the opposite corner for a winner. Then her momentum sent her sprawling into the clay. She rolled over, tucking her shoulder and landing on her back, knocking the breath from her lungs. Penny lay there a moment, gasping at first and then breathing slowly in through her nose and out through her mouth. Everything felt okay, so she rolled onto her side and stood up, brushing the clay from her hands.
Alex was on her side of the net by the time she regained her footing. “Are you all right?” he asked, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other running down her side to check for injuries.
A tremor slid through her as his calloused fingertips traced her jawline, tilting her chin upward, forcing her to look at him. She shouldn’t be feeling like this. Her body ignored her mental reprimand, and she ever so briefly leaned into the touch. It was just like that night, magnetism unlike anything she’d ever felt before. His eyes left hers and drifteddown to her lips. She wet them unconsciously and he sucked in a harsh breath. It was enough to break the spell.
“Don’t touch me.” She pulled away, her skin immediately mourning the warmth of his hand. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Dom will kill me if you’re hurt.”
“Thirty–fifteen.” She ignored the pain in her hip—only a bruise—hoping to both reassure him and reignite the competition. She wanted to play, even more now than before.
Alex studied her and Penny kept all emotion off her face, not giving away even a hint of discomfort. “Thirty–fifteen,” he agreed before retreating to his side of the court.
A half hour later, they were thrashing each other, holding their serves, and despite the bruise still blooming on her hipbone, she was pleased with her effort. The respect she saw in his expression after she returned one of his serves for a clean winner wasn’t a figment of her imagination. She would never admit it out loud, but playing against him every daywouldhelp her prep for the French.
She was drenched in sweat, and adrenaline thrummed through her veins, so the sound of the gate opening didn’t register. She was too caught up in the thrill of the match, of having a fierce opponent, and she relished every point she won, a small revenge for the little part of her that still resented him for hooking up with someone else the night after Penny was in his bed.
“Got going without me, huh?” Dom’s voice rang out, startling Alex as he tossed the ball up. It fell to the ground, bouncing away.
Penny cringed. Dom had instructed her to start on her conditioning, not get roped into a full-on grudge match.Her coach stood at the edge of the court, the breeze ruffling his dark hair. He looked every inch the elite athlete, still in great shape, even in retirement.
“Couldn’t help ourselves,” Alex quipped, retrieving the ball, and she contained the urge to glare at him.
“Well, next time, wait for me. I’m your coach. Can’t analyze anything if I’m not here to watch,” Dom said.
“Right,” Alex said, laughing. “Haven’t had a real coach in a while. Might take some getting used to.”
Shaking his head, Dom turned his attention to her. His eyes caught the red clay stain on her white tennis shorts and blue T-shirt. His thick black eyebrows lifted into his hairline, asking the question without having to voice it.What the hell happened to you?
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Penny asked, inhaling deeply through her nose, trying to keep from exploding at her coach. He didn’t know about her and Alex. This situation wasn’t his fault. It was hers. “Privately.”
“Say whatever you like, love. I’m a big boy.”
Her back teeth ground together and she turned to her coach. “Roland-Garros is in a few weeks and I don’t have time to waste helping him get back into match shape or whatever. I’m not training with him.”
“I don’t know. It looks like you two got in a pretty good workout. Any other reason?” Dom asked, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. It was his battle stance. She hadn’t seen it in a while.
“She thinks I’m a has-been,” Alex said as he started kicking around one of the stray tennis balls, picking it up with his foot and bouncing it off his knee then down, catchingit with his toe, showing Dom exactly how seriously he took her opinion.
Penny pressed her fingertips against the side of her head, trying her best to ignore him as she led Dom a few feet away, giving her a little more privacy. “I can’t train with him, Dom,” she said, her voice quieter this time. “He’s too… I just… can’t.”
Words failed her. She couldn’t tell her coach she wouldn’t train with Alex because he was a smug prick who already managed to seduce her once. That no matter how much playing with him could help her game, he would be nothing but a distraction at a time when she could least afford it.
