True, it wasn’t very fair of her. But her job was rarely fair. “Ty’s been suspected.”

“He tested clean.”

“No, he tested inconclusive. There’re new drugs out there, performance-enhancing drugs that are slipping past the testing.”

“Shit.”

“You and I both know, many athletes do drugs.”

“Not me,” he said. “And this is supposedly about me. What else does your pad want to know?” he asked, sounding quite over this whole thing.

Couldn’t blame him. She was over it, too. She slipped the pad into her purse and took the leap. “It wants to know if you’d like to stop the interview and get back to that other thing.”

“The other thing?”

“The whole getting-each-other-out-of-our-system thing.”

His eyes were steady.

Calm.

Hot.

“Very much,” he said.

She set down her purse and camera.

He put his hands on her hips.

Hers slid up his chest.

And then they both stepped into each other and his mouth covered hers, hot and hungry, and all their differences, disagreements, frustrations, and arguments went out the proverbial window.

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Baseball is the only field of endeavor where a man can succeed three times out of ten and be considered a good performer.

—Ted Williams

Holly’s soft sigh of pleasure echoed in Pace’s head as they dived into the kiss with reckless abandon. God, the way she fisted her fingers in his hair, the arch of her hips to his . . . it rocked his world. She rocked his world. “Holly—”

“Mmmm,” she murmured, and just like that, the tension that had been dogging him finally began to drain away, replaced by a different sort of tension altogether.

There was only this, the feel of her soft, curvy body, the taste of her . . . Cupping the back of her head with his hand, he slid his tongue to hers, loving her moan of pleasure, the way she lost some of her carefulness, which was just as sexy as her being careful in the first place. She had the best mouth, warm and giving, and so damn sweet he could kiss her forever. And if kissing her was this good, his brain went hog wild fantasizing about what else would be good. All of it. That much he could pretty well guarantee, and his hands made themselves at home on her body, everywhere he could reach, feeling her response in every quiver she made. His hands slipped beneath her shirt, touching that creamy, smooth skin, making her whisper his name in a shaky voice.

More. That was all he could think, and pressing her back to the tree, he filled his palms with her breasts.

And then went still at the crack of a branch behind them. Someone was here with them. He pulled back, but the dark was so complete he couldn’t see.

“Pace?” Holly murmured, her hands going to his wrists.