Game On by Nancy Warren Page B

noted. It was crisper around the edges and a little shorter than last time she’d seen him. A nice thick head of hair that would feel good beneath her fingers the next time she found herself in his arms.
    Oh, stop it.
    Before she could open her mouth, he said, “So what did I walk in on?”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “You and your gal out front were looking pretty tense when I walked in.”
    “It’s nothing. Now, did you—”
    “Seems you spend a lot of time delving into my head but have damn thick walls around your own psyche.”
    “It’s supposed to be that way. You’re the client.”
    “Max calls it a favor for a friend. I’m offering you the same favor.”
    “But we’re not friends,” she snapped without thinking.
    It was as though she’d played right into his hands. A slow smile began to form. “If I’m not your client, and we’re not friends, I wonder what we are.”
    The moment that followed was so loaded with sexual heat Serena was amazed her new suit didn’t melt right off her body, leaving nothing behind but a few blue threads clinging to her skin like slivers of heaven.
    Perhaps because she didn’t feel like dealing with their obvious sexual attraction, or maybe because she really needed somebody to talk to and he was the closest ear, she said, “If you really want to know, Lisa, who is the best assistant I’ve ever had, wants to become a junior partner. But I’ve never had a partner. I work alone. I can’t imagine having to train someone, to monitor their progress, to...”
    “Trust them?” he said softly.
    “I trust Lisa. I do,” she insisted when he lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “It’s just that I can’t imagine sharing clients and—”
    “Giving up total control?”
    “Maybe.” She sighed. “Probably.”
    “Do you have enough work to add another person?”
    “I’m swamped. I’m turning down work.”
    “Do you trust her?”
    “As much as I trust anyone.”
    “Aha.”
    “Stop with the ahas. This is your session.”
    “But I made you think, didn’t I?”
    He was so pleased with himself she had to smile. “Yes. You did.”
    “She got the chops? Professionally?”
    Serena nodded. “She’s got an MA in psychology. She’s good with people. She reminds me of myself at her age. Without the baggage.”
    He flicked her a glance that suggested one day soon he was going to be asking about her baggage. She wondered what she’d do when that happened.
    “What happens if you don’t give her more responsibility?”
    She sighed. “I’ll lose her to somebody who will give her a better chance.”
    He leaned back, opened his hands palms up. “Something to think about.”
    “You’re right. Thanks. Now let’s turn to you.”
    “Okay. I had a good week. Even though they make me gag, I recite those affirmations about twenty times a day. Scored more goals in Tuesday’s game than I’ve scored in a single game all year.”
    “Congratulations.”
    “So I figure I’m cured and you look hungry. How about I take you out for dinner somewhere and we can pick up where we left off in the parking lot.”
    Oh, he was smooth. And seductive. And she wanted to walk away from the office and her problems and let him take her to dinner and then home to bed more than she wanted to admit. But she’d taken on the job of coaching him and she was determined to see it through.
    “Not so fast.” She leaned back. “You’ve never had a problem in regular play. It’s the play-off games where you have your issues. I don’t think you should celebrate too soon.”
    He seemed pretty unsurprised by her reaction and only rolled his eyes before saying, “I haven’t figured out the part about where I get the guilt from.”
    There was a moment’s silence. She said, “Tell me why you became a cop.”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know. I always knew I was going to be a cop. Ever since I was a little kid. My dad was a cop, of course, and a good one. He was the hero in our house. Seemed natural to go the