TWICE VICTORIOUS Read Online Free

minutes. "Sorry," he told her. "I
was trying to decide how to say this."
    "Generally the best way is to just speak the words." Her tone was dry. Those
straight, dark eyebrows of hers made her look as if she were scowling, but he saw the
quick flash of a dimple at the corner of her mouth.
    He couldn't help but smile in return. "I really hate being the bearer of bad news,
but I haven't much choice. The schedule for the ad campaign hasn't any slack in it. So
we're going to have to find another woman cyclist to use. I realize this is a disappointment,
but--"
    Her laughter stopped him. "What?"
    "Sorry. I couldn't help it. You were apologizing so nicely. As if it really mattered
to me." Again that dimple. No, two. One at each corner of her mouth.
    Adam stared. "Doesn't it?" He couldn't imagine an amateur who didn't want the
kind of exposure KIWANDA's ads would give. Fame brought sponsors, a necessity to an
amateur athlete who needed the same sort of financial support any professional did, but
was prohibited from earning it in competition or exhibition play.
    "Adam, I was dreading every second of it. I really hate being the center of
attention. The thought of having to pose gave me nightmares." She patted her cast. "The
only-- only --good thing about this is that it's given me a graceful excuse to
decline."
    For a moment he stared at her, not believing she was serious.
    Her expression convinced him. "But the publicity, the sponsorship..."
    Leaning back, she moved her leg into a different position. "I may be crazy, but I
believe that if I can't win without a lot of media attention, then I shouldn't be competing.
As far as the sponsorship goes, didn't I hear that Jeff Reynolds had signed on with
KIWANDA?"
    "Well, yes, but--"
    "He's on my team." She grinned, and the dimples flashed, just as he'd
remembered. "There are half a dozen women cyclists in town who would jump at the
chance to model for you, and one who'd rather have a root canal. Use one of them."
    But I want you! Adam forced himself to return her smile. "I won't deny
that our schedule is tight. We've already interviewed a couple of other women, but we were
hoping that you'd recover in time."
    "My recovery is not the issue," she said, her tone sharp. "I really don't want to
model for you, Mr. Vanderhook." She reached down beside her chair and picked up her
crutches. "Now, if you'll excuse me...."
    Adam rose, but deliberately watched as she struggled to her feet. After two weeks,
she should be more adept at managing the crutches. Was she fighting them? He'd bet on
it.
    "I can find my way out," he said.
    "I have to check the mail." She followed him down the hall.
    This was no way to leave her, not with both of them annoyed. While he had no
intention of going beyond friendship with Stell McCray, he did want that much. He might
not approve of her obsession, but he admired her determination and he liked the person
he'd seen so far. Maybe he could help her, having faced the same decision she must
make.
    Stell opened the door for him, intending to give him a polite goodbye. As she
moved aside so he could step across the threshold, her cast got tangled with one crutch and
she started to fall.
    He caught her as she swayed, held her solidly, her breasts flattened against his
chest. Somehow one of his legs was between hers. She gasped, and he felt suddenly
breathless. Her mouth was less then two inches from his, her hot breath wafted across his
cheek.
    Adam found himself drowning in a sea of desire. Her scent was floral and spice,
her lithe body was spring steel under a layer of soft flesh and sweet curves. He forgot why
he had come to her house, forgot that he had a plane to meet in a little more than an hour,
forgot that the sun was shining and the spring wind smelled of growth and rebirth.
    The world narrowed to this time and this place. His awareness was captured by
changeable hazel eyes almost hidden by thick lashes on slumberous lids, by pink and juicy
lips inviting him to sample