Amalie Xo
Twitter: @AmalieBerlin
AMALIE BERLIN lives with her family and critters in Southern Ohio, and writes quirky and independent characters for Mills & Boon Medical Romance. She likes to buck expectations with unusual settings and situations, and believes humour can be used powerfully to illuminate truth—especially when juxtaposed against intense emotions. Love is stronger and more satisfying when your partner can make you laugh through times when you don’t have the luxury of tears.
To the awesome and lovely writers who populate the #1k1hr hashtag on Twitter. Without you this book would’ve never been done by deadline.
And to the other awesome and lovely writers at the Harlequin Writers’ Circle forums. Without you guys I maybe wouldn’t have needed Twitter to make deadline. But I’ve never had so much fun or felt so helpful and productive while procrastinating
Xo
“NOW FOR THE hard part...” Liam Carter muttered, hauling himself out of the deeply comfortable chair in James Rothsberg’s office at The Hollywood Hills Clinic.
“The hard part?” James asked, politely rising in tandem with him.
Why had he said that? James didn’t need to know how shaky his plan was.
“Walking,” Liam said, offering an explanation he knew James would believe.
“I can get you a wheelchair and have you wheeled down to the treatment rooms...”
“No.” He raised a hand, laughing a little. Limping and still upright, even with pain, trumped being wheeled around. “No, I can make it.”
Liam hadn’t seen Grace in six years, and he’d damned well make her re-acquaintance on his feet. No matter how much it hurt.
He tested his balance and found it before he found the appropriate expression to conceal the pain.
James rounded his desk, hand outstretched to shake. “Don’t be surprised if Grace insists on crutches.”
Even without his desire to save face with Grace, if anyone saw him in a wheelchair or on crutches, word would travel, and the people he spent ninety-five percent of his life making happy would begin to question his suitability for the project.
Liam mustered a smile and shook the offered hand, then turned toward the door. “I’m sure we’ll work something out. Grace always was good at creative problem solving.” In their amicable past, the one that had ended for them that one night. The one he’d never have James know about, the land where nothing ever suddenly exploded. One terrible...and amazing night.
There had been plenty of great years before hormones had become involved, but the punctuation on that sentence assured their first meeting in years would be anything but normal.
For someone who lied for a living, doing so off script always left a bad taste in his mouth, so he left it at that. It had to be Grace...
Minimizing his limp as much as possible, Liam exited the office and made his way to the elevator he’d been directed to. The Hollywood Hills Clinic lived up to its reputation of clean, modern elegance, not that he could really appreciate it right now.
Two days and the best splint money could buy hadn’t even put a dent in the pain that radiated up his leg with every step. Liam would swear his ankle hurt more now than the day he’d sprained it. But despite the pain and the all-looming discomfort, the prospect of seeing Grace Watson again still had him moving a little faster.
How would the years have changed her? Would he find her still the slender, athletic girl she’d been, light on curves but with quiet, supple strength? Maybe he was nervous for no good reason, and time apart could’ve extinguished that youthful spark between them. It might not even come up.
Through Nick, he knew that Grace had worked in professional sports, helping athletes keep fighting fit. She could help him. He just had to convince her. Pretend their last meeting had never happened. They were both fully adults now, and adults ignored unpleasant things all the time in order to keep things cordial.
A short ride down and he stepped off the elevator. The more he walked, the more the spark of anticipation grew in his gut, and the faster he hobbled.
He just had to pretend. Pretend the image of her in that flimsy black lingerie wasn’t still etched crisply into his mind...six years later.
Hard to believe it had been that long.
By the time he’d reached the treatment rooms, the buzz on the back of his neck was enough to drown out the constant pain grinding through his ankle, or at least enough to distract him from it.
He stepped through the door of the treatment room, and before he’d even looked over the various equipment and exercise areas, he knew she wasn’t there. It felt empty.
Back in the hallway, he could see double doors at the end marked for the therapy pool. If she was anywhere, she’d be there.
Pools were as common as palms in Southern California and, while growing up, anytime she’d had a few minutes to spare, she’d spent them in the Watson family’s pool.
He approached the edge of the pool just in time to see her turn underwater and push off the side. He knew from the way she moved that it was Grace even through the shimmer of water. Sleek and fast, she powered through the water toward the far end.
Mermaid. He shook his head and felt himself smiling despite the nerves in the pit of his stomach. At least that hadn’t changed.
Maybe their reunion would be exactly like those old times. Maybe she’d reach the edge of the water and pretend to want a hand out, only to jerk him in with her.
Another underwater turn and she swam far enough before surfacing to speak of impressive lung power, then cut a path through the water toward him, straight as an arrow despite an unmarked lane.
Taking advantage of the seconds it would take her to reach his end of the pool, Liam ambled back toward the doorway to give her some space to exit the water, and avoid the urge to play with her. This wasn’t the old days, and he wasn’t seventeen anymore.
He saw her hand reach for the edge of the pool and heard her rapid breathing. She’d seen him when her head had cleared the water while breathing, or she’d seen someone there with her.
Grace’s head now popped over the edge and before he knew it she was emerging from the water, toned, tanned, and with the kind of curves that made the black bikini she wore look exactly like that lingerie...
No, not exactly. She hadn’t really had much in the way of hips last time. Now even her curves had curves.
His breath caught as their eyes met, but as she swung a leg up onto the edge of the pool one arm buckled and she toppled back into the water with a splash.
“Grace?” Had she hit something when she’d fallen back in? The concrete edge could do some damage...
He hobbled forward again.
* * *
Through training and sheer effort, Grace managed not to suck down a lungful of chlorinated water as she went under.
Broad shoulders.