Page 1 of The Game
Chapter 1
Alyssa’s lungs were on fire, but she pushed on and savoured the burn. She’d overruled her mother’s plans and had insisted on coming out for a run this morning. She needed to forget, to clear her head, and she couldn’t think of a better place to do it than on this stretch of sand. It made her feel alive, and right now, she needed the reminder.
Palm Beach, and Rockingham Beach foreshore beyond, was only a short walk from her parents’ home. Growing up, she’d spent every spare moment she could down here, and though additions had been made to the landscape in the ten years she’d been gone, some things remained the same. Dog walkers and exercise junkies, getting their fix of either sand, surf or cycle, were the only people out and about this early.
Alyssa jogged along the shoreline, and with each stride, her feet sank an inch or two in the sand, the soft crunch of her footfalls beating a rhythm to her pace. The sound was hypnotic, and the waves lapping gently at the shore added further percussion to the song in her head. But as she ran, a gull screeched, loud and shrill, and pulled her from her reverie. It circled overhead before diving into the water to retrieve its breakfast. When it emerged, Alyssa couldn’t help feeling sorry for the fish caught in its beak; it’d had no choice in the matter. Much like she hadn’t.
Four weeks. That’s all the time she had left before her treatment started, and she was determined to distract herself as much as possible until then. Since she’d come home to Western Australia a week ago, her mother had been filling their days with appointment after appointment, and though Alyssa knew they were necessary, spending countless hours in specialists’ waiting rooms did nothing but remind her that her life hung in the balance.
Now, with the sun at her back and higher than it had been when she’d set out, sweat trickled down her neck and between her shoulder blades. She was almost back to where she’d started, the Catalpa Memorial calling her home like a beacon. She fixed her gaze on it, the symbolic freedom of the flying geese resonating with her more now than it had when she’d left town as an eighteen-year-old. What she wouldn’t give to be that free again, faced with all of life’s possibilities. Though she’d been told recovery was possible, she knew she had a long road ahead of her.
Alyssa slowed and, stopping at the water’s edge, cursed out loud. So much for clearing her mind!
She shoved her hands on her hips and fought to control her breathing as she paced. Turning, she studied the waves rolling in and contemplated a swim. Surely the water would be cold enough to clear the cobwebs, and the lycra she wore would drip-dry as she walked home. Decision made, she kicked off her shoes, peeled her socks from her feet, stepped towards the water—and the next thing she knew, she was lying on her back in the sand.
Dazed, she groaned and put a hand to her head.
‘Bloody hell! I’m so sorry. Here, let me help you.’
She blinked a few times until a dark masculine shape blocked out the sun and a hand extended towards her.
‘Are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?’
She ignored both the offer of help and the questions, and when three fingers floated into her field of vision, she pushed them away. She’d had enough medical examinations lately to last a lifetime.
‘I’m fine.’ She struggled to sit. ‘What happened?’
‘I, ah, ran into you.’ He crouched in the sand beside her. ‘Got a bit distracted, then you stepped out so suddenly…’
‘Distracted?’ Alyssa rubbed her forehead, running through the events of the last few minutes, and finally turned towards the guy. ‘By what?’
‘Er … the view?’ He grinned at her, brows raised as if hoping she’d accept the answer, and it dawned on her that he’d been perving. At her.
She frowned her disapproval, but at the same time, as she got her first good look at him, she realised something about him seemed familiar.
‘Hold up,’ he said, his gaze flicking over her face. ‘I’d know that disapproving glare anywhere.’ His eyes narrowed, and he reeled back slightly. ‘Martin?’
Only one guy had ever called her by her last name. Now she knew why that sleazy, suggestive grin seemed so familiar. ‘DoubleD?’
He barked out a laugh. ‘Well, I haven’t heard that in years, but yeah, that’s me.’
Two years her senior, Dean Daniels had glorified the nickname his friends had given him in high school, claiming it was how he liked his women. Alyssa shuddered at the memory. She’d been best friends with his sister, Kate, in high school and had spent a lot of time at their house in their teenage years, so she’d often been subjected to hearing him spout such sexist comments. Unfortunately, as soon as he’d discovered how much his sleaze-factor annoyed her, he’d turned it up a notch and made it his mission to ruffle her feathers, teasing her every chance he got. Probably thought he could get away with it, considering he was drop-dead gorgeous and most girls swooned if he so much as looked in their direction. Well, Alyssa hadn’t. She’d been immune to his charms then, and she sure as hell wouldn’t be blinded by how gorgeous he looked now.
At a glance, it was clear to see he’d kept in shape. Dressed in running shorts and a tank top, he was lean and toned, not too bulky, his muscles well defined. His sun-kissed skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat—he’d clearly been pushing himself hard during his run—and damp tendrils of light-brown hair clung to his forehead.
She blinked, and his grin grew wider, as if he knew she’d been checking him out.
‘Fancyrunninginto you out here, Martin.’ He delivered the pun with a wink.
He seemed to find the physical way they’d reconnected amusing, now that he could see she was okay, and despite her determination not to be charmed, she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.
‘It must’ve been, what, eight, nine years since you left town?’ He sat beside her, making himself comfortable.
‘Ten, actually.’ Swiping at the sand dusting her shoulders, she refused to think about her reason for coming home.
‘Right. And you’ve been in Sydney all this time?’
She nodded slowly, surprised he’d remembered.
