Fearless Maverick Read Free Page B

Oh,
dammit, he was sexy —beyond anything
she’d ever experienced before.
                 As
a film of perspiration cooled her nape, Libby edged an inch away while, holding
the sling’s elbow, Alex stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles. His feet
were large, the shoes Italian. She noticed those things nowadays.
                 ‘So,
Ms Henderson, what do you have for me?’
                 ‘I’ve
studied the MRI scans,’ she began, her gaze tracing the line of that sling, ‘as
well as the orthopaedic surgeon’s report outlining the details of the injury.
Seems your shoulder didn’t suffer a complete dislocation, but rather a
subluxation. Do you know what that means?’
                 ‘My
shoulder didn’t pop completely.’
                 She
nodded. ‘In layman’s terms, that’s precisely it.’
                 When
that amazing subtle smile lighting his eyes touched his mouth, Libby’s tummy
fluttered and she cleared her throat. Yes,
he’s an incredibly attractive man but, for God’s sake, concentrate! Her goal
here wasn’t to get all starry-eyed but to have Alex Wolfe walk away from this
episode fully recovered and bursting with glowing reports of her services.
Hopefully, then, more of his ilk would follow and her reputation in her present
career would be secured.
                 When
she’d returned to her studies, she’d decided she wanted to work with elite
athletes, that special breed that needed someone who not only understood how
their bodies worked but also their minds, and who were prepared to do whatever
it took to get back on top. Libby only wished she’d been given that option.
                 Centring
her attention again, she threaded her fingers and set them on her lap. ‘Your
medical records outline ligament damage to that shoulder in your teens.’
                 His
eyes clouded over for an instant, so stormy and distant she might have
mentioned the devil. But then his smile returned, and more hypnotic than
before.
                 ‘I
came off a motorbike.’
                 She
nodded. A natural thrillseeker, of course he’d have started out on two wheels. ‘I
see.’
                 ‘Do
you like motor sports?’
                 ‘I
was more a water girl.’
                 ‘Swimming?
Skiing?’
                 That
flush returned, a hot rash creeping over the entire length of her body. Feeling
colour soak into her cheeks, she glanced down, unclasped her hands and smoothed
the centre creases of her trousers. They weren’t here to discuss her history.
                 ‘I
have another appointment this afternoon, so perhaps we’d best stay on point.’
                 His
gaze sharpened, assessing her, and he sat back. ‘I imagine your practice keeps
you busy, Ms Henderson.’
                 ‘Busy
enough.’
                 ‘But
not on weekends.’
                 ‘I
work some Saturdays.’
                 ‘Not
Sundays?’
                 She
blinked. ‘You think you’ll need me Sundays too?’
                 ‘Let’s
make it every weekday for now.’
                 ‘Much
of the work you can do without my help. Every second day would be sufficient.’
                 ‘Every
week day,’ he reiterated before smiling again. ‘Don’t worry, Ms Henderson. I
promise my current predicament is extremely short-term.’
                 Libby’s
breath left her lungs in a quiet rush. This man was a living legend. Revered by
millions all over the world. He was the sporting hero that boys chasing one
another in parks pretended to be. Was he being intentionally snide? Or just
plain ‘I am invincible’ arrogant? Libby knew better than most.
                 No
one was invincible.
                 ‘We
were