God. I thought he’d never leave. While Terrence waited for the man to disappear, he studied Kyra closely, carefully, examining every aspect of her appearance. Light eyes, plump glossy lips, curves stacked on top of curves. Her hair had a soft sheen to it and was cut in a dramatic, cheek-grazing bob. The reddish-brown hue was a sharp contrast to her coffee-with-cream complexion and played up her soft, pale eyes. Underneath her mustard blazer was a white blouse and a belted skirt that emphasized her soda pop bottle shape.
Terrence licked his lips. He’d just finished a bottle of vitamin water, but he was suddenly thirstier than a Kenyan marathon runner. High-heeled sandals gave Kyra height, and reminded him of those clunky shoes she used to wear back in the day. The PR manager hated her diminutive height and still did everything in her power to appear taller. Five feet four inches was listed on her driver’s license, but she used to swear on a stack of bibles that she was five-six.
“Terrence, we’ll talk later this week,” Walter promised, pausing at the door. “If you need anything, anything at all, just let Kyra know. She’ll take good care of you.”
“What was that all about?” he asked, when they were alone. “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?” He added, half-teasing, “You’re not embarrassed of me, are you, Kyra?”
The corners of her lips tightened. “We’re going to be spending a lot of time together in the coming weeks and I’d like if we could put the past behind us.”
Her eyes were so pretty, so deep and incredibly bright, he couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying. Kyra was all business, but that didn’t stop Terrence from wanting her. He wanted to touch her, hold her, feel the delicious heat of that shapely body. But he knew better than to touch her. Not yet, anyway. After, when she’d loosened up and quit being so tense, he’d show the public relations director that he was a changed man.
The sound of his name on her heavily painted cherry-red lips brought him back to the present. “Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll go along with it.”
On the football field he was flashy, brazen, daring even, but here, in Hollington, standing inches away from his first love, his confidence deserted him. He was just another man, lusting over a ridiculously beautiful woman, and though he was a smart, articulate guy, he didn’t have the words to tell Kyra just how stunning she was. “Anything else on your mind?”
“I know you’re very busy, so let’s get started.”
Terrence pumped more shine into his smile. “I have all the time in the world.”
“Well, I don’t.”
His face must have showed his surprise, because she suddenly looked contrite.
Gesturing to one of the chairs around the table, she sat down and crossed her legs. Shoulders squared, hands clasped, she looked like a woman in control of herself and her surroundings. And for now, she was. “I promise to be brief.”
Terrence followed her lead. Seated, his eyes roving appreciatively over her chest and hips, he tried not to stare at her moist, luscious mouth.
“Mr. Rawlins quit unexpectedly, leaving us scrambling to find a suitable replacement, and although the interim coach is doing a fine job, President Morrow made it very clear that you’re the only one he wants for our team.”
“What do you think, Kyra?”
“I think you’ll bring excitement back to Hollington and connect with the freshman players.” Another artificial smile. “Why don’t I tell you more about the specifics of the job, and we’ll go from there?”
Kyra tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear. Sunlight splashed through the window and bounced off the diamond ring on her hand. Panic swelling in his chest, he checked to see which finger. Second from the left. What? Kyra was married?
Twenty minutes passed. Kyra delivered her pitch and though her enthusiasm was contagious, he didn’t hear more than five words. How was he supposed to concentrate when she smelled so damn good? No one could concentrate under these conditions. Not even the Pope, and he was the king, or rather, the father of cool.
“I was hoping you’d stop me when I got carried away,” she confessed, dropping her hands in her lap. “What do you think so far?”
“I think you’re beautiful.”
Terrence couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw surprise flash in her eyes. “It’s eleven thirty,” he told her. “Why don’t we continue this discussion over lunch?”
Kyra got to her feet. “I can’t. It’s been a zoo around here all day and I’m busy getting everything ready for reunion weekend.”
“You can’t take an hour out of your day to have a bite with an old friend?”
“I’m afraid not, but we can set up another time next week to discuss the coaching position. Also, other people in the Hollington organization will want to speak to you about this fantastic opportunity.” Her voice was light, her words carefully chosen, but he heard the chill in her tone. To signify the end of their conversation, she strode over to the door and opened it. “I’ll show you out.”
Terrence knew what a brush-off looked like and Kyra had always been an expert at letting a guy down easy. His gut feeling was that the curvy PR director was going to be a tough cookie to crack, but Terrence wasn’t worried. He was made to compete, to win, to perform at the highest level, and it didn’t matter if he was shooting hoops or playing blackjack. He played to win. “Ladies first,” he announced, gesturing for her to precede him. “Why don’t you tell me more about the players on the team?”
Falling in step with her, they strode past narrow offices and sunlit conference rooms. To block out the noises around them, he leaned in, purposely brushing against her. Kyra hopped as if she’d been jabbed with a pitchfork. The message was clear: look, but don’t touch.
Convinced she was appalled at his behavior, Terrence decided to cool his Nikes. This was her turf, her world, and if he came on too strong, she’d think he was just another pompous athlete trying to score some tail. For now, he’d sit back and let Kyra take the lead. Hell, why not, when she looked so damn sexy doing it?
Chapter 2
Kyra felt Terrence’s hand on her lower back, and narrowed her eyes in disgust. Where did he get off touching her? Her first thought was to smack his hand away, but she didn’t want to appear uptight. President Morrow wanted Terrence to coach the Hollington Lions and until the ex-footballer accepted the job, she had to play nice.
Refusing to shy away from his gaze, she stared up at him, marveling at how youthful he looked even after all these years. The edges of his fine, dark hair were trimmed, giving the thirty-two-year-old sports star a clean, polished appearance. His short-sleeve shirt and jeans couldn’t disguise his long athletic physique. Terrence Franklin reeked of masculinity and although Kyra wasn’t attracted to him, she loved the way his muscles filled out his designer shirt.
“Have you been working at Hollington since graduation?”
The friendly expression on his face didn’t fool her. The former NFL running back was trouble, and Kyra knew if she ever let her guard down, she’d be sorry. “No, I worked at an advertising agency for a few years before applying here. This is my—”
Their
