Opposites Attract Read Free Page A

complained, easing her gently through the thinning crowd. “I didn’t know you were here until . . .” His voice trailed off so that Asher knew he referred to the ten seconds of potent eye contact with Ty. “Until after the match,” he finished. He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “Why didn’t you give someone a call?”
    â€œI wasn’t entirely sure I’d make it.” Asher allowed herself to be negotiated to a clear spot in a rear hallway. “Then I thought I’d just melt into the crowd. It didn’t seem fair to disrupt the match with any the-prodigal-returns business.”
    â€œIt was a hell of a match.” The flash of teeth gleamed with enthusiasm. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Ty play better than he did in the last set. Three aces.”
    â€œHe always had a deadly serve,” Asher murmured.
    â€œHave you seen him?”
    From anyone else the blunt question would have earned a cold stare. Chuck earned a quick grimace. “No. I will, of course, but I didn’t want to distract him before the match.” Asher linked her fingers—an old nervous habit. “I didn’t realize he knew I was here.”
    Distract Starbuck, she thought with an inner laugh. No one and nothing distracted him once he picked up his game racket.
    â€œHe went crazy when you left.”
    Chuck’s quiet statement brought her back. Deliberately she unlaced her fingers. “I’m sure he recovered quickly.” Because the retort was sharper than she had intended, Asher shook her head as if to take back the words. “How have you been? I saw an ad with you touting the virtues of a new line of tennis shoes.”
    â€œHow’d I look?”
    â€œSincere,” she told him with a quick grin. “I nearly went out and bought a pair.”
    He sighed. “I was shooting for macho.”
    As the tension seeped out of her, Asher laughed. “With that face?” She cupped his chin with her hand and moved it from side to side. “It’s a face a mother could trust—foolishly,” she added.
    â€œShh!” He glanced around in mock alarm. “Not so loud—my reputation.”
    â€œYour reputation suffered a few dents in Sydney,” she recalled. “What was that—three seasons ago? The stripper.”
    â€œExotic dancer,” Chuck corrected righteously. “It was merely an exchange of cultures.”
    â€œYou did look kind of cute wearing those feathers.” With another laugh she kissed his cheek. “Fuchsia becomes you.”
    â€œWe all missed you, Asher.” He patted her slim, strong shoulder.
    The humor fled from her eyes. “Oh, Chuck, I missed you. Everyone, all of it. I don’t think I realized just how much until I walked in here today.” Asher looked into space, lost in her own thoughts, her own memories. “Three years,” she said softly.
    â€œNow you’re back.”
    Her eyes drifted to his. “Now I’m back,” she agreed. “Or will be in two weeks.”
    â€œThe Foro Italico.”
    Asher gave him a brief smile that was more determination than joy. “I’ve never won on that damn Italian clay. I’m going to this time.”
    â€œIt was your pacing.”
    The voice from behind her had Asher’s shoulders stiffening. As she faced Chuck her eyes showed only the merest flicker of some secret emotion before they calmed. When she turned to Ty he saw first that his memory of her beauty hadn’t been exaggerated with time, and second that her layer of control was as tough as ever.
    â€œSo you always told me,” she said calmly. The jolt was over, she reasoned, with the shock of eye contact in the auditorium. But her stomach muscles tightened. “You played beautifully, Ty . . . after the first set.”
    They were no more than a foot apart now. Neither could find any changes in the other. Three