His hazel eyes became dark and intent. "Not until I brought you here. Maybe I've redeemed myself for all the jealousy I've harbored against you." 'Jealousy?" 'Of you and every other pro who made it. I've been lashing out at all of you to some extent, but you were the easiest one to single out."
"Why?"
"Because you were atypical. You weren't muscle-bound and unattractive, which was my chauvinistic, narrow-minded opinion of what a professional woman athlete should look like.
"And," he added around a deep breath, "as long as I'm baring my soul, I might just as well go all the way. I was still miffed about Stockholm.
I wanted to go to bed with you, didn't get to, so I was sulking like the little boy who didn't get his candy. Maliciously I disparaged the very thing I desired. Pretty juvenile, huh?"
"Pretty human."
"You're being generous."
"I'm in a generous mood." She smiled up at him and drew a line down his nose with her fingertip.
"To prove just how generous, I'll forgive you every nasty word you've ever written about me on one condition."
"What?" he asked suspiciously.
She whisked a kiss across his lips. "Make love to me again."
"Stevie, we really shouldn't."
"Why not?"
He hesitated, which was a mistake. She took advantage of his indecision by sliding her hand down his middle and cupping the full heaviness of his manhood.
"We shouldn't because it might…uh-" he became hard beneath her rhythmic stroking "-might not be good for you," he finished lamely.
"I'll be the judge of that." Her lips nibbled at his chin, her teeth making scratching sounds against his stubble. Her hand became even more persuasive, her thumb lazily inquisitive. "Please, Judd," she breathed against his lips.
Moaning, he clasped her around the waist and pulled her on top of him. "Well, since you asked so nicely '
Insects gave up their lives against the windshield of Judd's stolen car. The gooey smudges they created made little difference to the thief who could barely see the markings on the interstate highway through her tears.
Stevie wiped her nose on her sleeve. After seventy-five miles she would have thought her supply of fresh tears would be exhausted, but it wasn't. Each time she thought of what she had left behind and the ordeal that she was facing, another hot, salty batch filled her red, swollen eyes.
She had left him and he'd been furious.
Even now, her heartache was overshadowed by the fear that Judd might somehow catch up with her. Glancing once over her shoulder as she had sped away from the farmhouse, she had glimpsed him, wearing only his underwear, running down the porch steps. His fist had been raised. He was cursing her and the rock that had gouged his bare heel.
It could have been a comic sight; it hadn't been. It had broken her heart, and it was still broken. She rather imagined that it would remain broken for a long time.
The skyline of Dallas was glittering and glitzy against the western horizon, deep indigo now in the waning dusk. In an hour she would be at her condominium, she calculated mentally. Allow an hour to make necessary phone calls and pack.
Then…
She refused to think beyond that. The only way she would get through this alone, without jeopardizing her sanity, would be to take it one step at a time. First things first. Getting home was first.
As she took the exit in the concrete labyrinth that connected one expressway to another, she permitted herself to reflect on their afternoon of lovemaking.
Judd, speaking softly and sexily. Judd, his hands instructive and sensuous, guiding her hips down over him. Judd, hard and full and smooth, filling her. Judd, his lips hungry, yet tender, on her breasts. Judd, Judd, Judd.
She dashed tears out of her eyes as she switched lanes cautiously, unaccustomed to driving a sports car with an engine powerful enough to fly an airplane. He would never forgive her for "borrowing" it without his permission.
He would never forgive her for leaving him stranded, either.
The farmhouse's old-fashioned bathtub had become a shrine in which they'd worshiped each other's bodies. Hands covered with soapy lather were the sexiest instruments ever employed to give carnal pleasure. Or was it that Judd just knew how to use them?
It had been a delight to discover that the undersides of her upper arms were particularly susceptible to open-mouthed kisses and that kisses to the backs of her knees left her weak.
Judd had a ticklish spot midway between his lowest rib and his right hipbone. He had a birthmark on his left shoulder blade, and he'd grown misty-eyed when she traced every inch of the ugly, jagged scars on his leg with her loving lips.
This has always been an object of fantasy for me, he had confessed, tugging lightly on her long, single braid.
Really?
Really.
How? He had only smiled mysteriously and demurred from telling her. Then show me.
Her seductive suggestion had turned his eyes smoky. When he acted out his fantasy with her full cooperation, their harmonious cries of fulfillment had echoed off the walls of the house.
That was the instant she knew unequivocally that she loved him, and her decision had dawned crystal clear. The solution to her dilemma had unexpectedly risen out of the murky depths of confusion and despair.
Life, in its simplest, most basic form was far more precious than any amenities it could afford, such as prizes and fame, respect and riches, the acceptance of either peers or strangers.
While Judd was still dressing, she had gone downstairs, ostensibly to prepare them a light supper. Instead she had grabbed her purse, taken his car keys, and left the house at a dead run, not so much because she feared his wrath over her deception and desertion, but because she feared that given time to think about it, she would change her mind.
She had got as far as the edge of the clearing before he ran out onto the porch, shouting after her, "What the hell? Stevie, come back. Where are you going?" Then, when he realized that she was escaping in their only means of transportation, he'd become furious.
"Damn you, what kind of stunt is this? Ouch!
Hell!" Livid, he had cursed when he stepped on the stone. "When I catch up to you, I'll strangle you for this. Dammit," he had sworn, slamming one fist into his other palm.
Her condominium was dark. She was relieved to see that there was no one lurking about. Either the news hounds and merely curious had tired of their siege or had given up on Stevie Corbett altogether.
Her plants needed her immediate attention.
She chided herself for forgetting to call the service that took care of them in her absence and vowed to do so at her earliest convenience, though God knew when that would be.
Her first telephone call went to her gynecologist, who was so glad to hear from her that he was nearly incoherent with relief.
"If I don't do it now, I might change my mind." She spoke so quickly that the words stumbled over each other. "I can be there in an hour. Can you make the arrangements that soon?"
He promised he could and would. The next call she made was to her manager.
"Stevie, thank God. I've been frantic."
"I needed time alone to think." She hadn't been alone, but Judd was too complicated to explain, even to herself. "I'm checking into the hospital tonight. The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning."
A significant pause ensued. "It's your decision, of course," he said.
"Yes, it is. My life is in the balance. That's more important than a career."
"Hey, it's only Wimbledon," he said with false cheer. "They have it every year. Next year it belongs to you."
They both knew better, but Stevie tried to inject enthusiasm into her voice when she said,