Page 2 of Match Point

“Yes. Yes, I am.” The coolness of his voice was laced with a hint of amusement. He retrieved the coffee cup and handed it to her. “Don’t forget this. I’ll walk you to the elevator. If you send an email to the address on the card, I’ll see if Howler can fit you in.”

Snatching the coffee cup from him, she squeezed the bottom and the lid popped off. A splash of hot coffee hit her hand, and she sucked in a breath, releasing the offensive object. It fell to the floor and splattered all down the front of his pant leg and onto his expensive leather shoes.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth.

He bent his head back, neck flushed, the tendons standing out.

“Are you okay?” Belle asked.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” Sorcha said, her words muffled by the hand she still clasped over her mouth.

“I’m fine,” he managed out of clenched teeth. Taking a step back, he shook his pant leg, the coffee spraying further across the floor.

She dropped her hand and snatched up the dropped cup and lid. “Obviously, you’re not fine. You should go run some cold water over your legs. It’ll help with the burn.” And I’ll search out Howler while you’re gone.

“Nice try, but no. Belle, please call maintenance and have them clean up this mess. I’ll escort Miss Templeton out.” He pointed to the elevators, a slight shake to his once steady hand.

“You’re in pain, you stubborn man. Go take care of yourself before you do some real damage.” Pride was a dangerous thing and she could read him like a book. The coffee was hot and the tiny splashes that had landed on her hand still stung. He had to be hurting, yet his desire to rid himself of her took precedence. Well, he’d have to try harder than that. She wasn’t budging.

“It’s a little bit too late for that. I’m asking you politely to leave,” he said, although there was nothing polite about his tone.

She shook her head, poised to dig in her heels. In the past, she’d traveled with a bodyguard, manager, and an attorney who would have paved the way for the meeting, but she’d chosen to come alone. It was just her now, desperate and resolute. “This is you being polite? I’d hate to see what you consider rude.”

Arms crossed; the shoulders of his suit jacket strained at the seams. A hint of starch and aftershave reached her, the heat from his body brushing her bare arm. “Funny, I thought I was being more than accommodating since you lied to me, but apparently you can’t take a hint.”

“Oh, I can take a hint. I just choose not to take your hint.”

The tiny smiled reappeared, along with a dimple in his stern cheek, before he corrected it. “We can stand around arguing semantics all day, but I have work to do and I can’t do it until you leave.”

“Go ahead, don’t mind me. I’ll just wait for Howler.” She tossed her long hair over her shoulder and stifled a groan when several strands caught on his watch.

Lean fingers removed the hair, rubbing it between his fingertips before he released the strands.

She swallowed at the sensuousness of the action, a complete contrast to their heated back--orth. Disconcerted, she squared her shoulders. Stay focused on your goal, not on the man.

“Who won’t see you without an appointment?” His voice softened, a muscle working in his jaw before it hardened once more. “And we’ve gone full circle, Miss Templeton.”

Chapter Two

Leo didn’t know what hurt more; the sting of the burn on his shins, the throbbing of his still aching knee, or the scratch on his cornea he’d incurred while out for his morning jog. He’d had a shitty day and Sorcha Templeton wasn’t helping it get any better.

“A circle that can be broken,” she said. She raised her square jaw, those deep blue eyes cutting through him. The subtle smell of her perfume, floral with a hint of citrus, teased his nose. She was much prettier than on TV, tall and muscular yet nicely rounded beneath a clingy turquoise dress. But her reputation preceded her, and from what he’d ascertained so far, she was trouble with a capital T.

“Hey Belle, I—” Xavier Hamilton, Howler to everyone who knew him, walked into the reception area from his office.

“Howler,” Sorcha said with a faint Irish lilt, one that would be sexy if Leo were in the mood to flirt with an attractive woman, which he wasn’t. Some of the first words out of her mouth were a lie. Considering her status in the tennis world, she probably got away with it. Not on his watch.

“Sorcha Templeton. Nice to see you again.” Howler held out his hand and she lay her palm into his as she cast Leo a shit-eating grin.

He refused to take the bait. She’d won this round from pure dumb luck.

“You as well. I’d like to talk with you, if you have a moment,” she said, her flirtatious grin bright.

He’d roll his eyes if it didn’t hurt so damn bad. She was laying it on thick, a complete one-eighty from her earlier attitude. He grudgingly had to give her props for sheer tenacity. A lesser person would have simply given up. Of course, she wouldn’t have made it to where she was in the tennis world if she weren’t persistent.

“For you, of course.”

“Excellent.” She met Leo’s direct stare as they passed by him on the way to Howler’s office.

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