on the wooden seat at the side of the court. ‘The John McEnroe you know,’ she said drily, sure it hadn’t been the John McEnroe.
‘He was my sportsmaster at school,’ James revealed unabashedly, his hair damp across his forehead. ‘I believe his opinion of my game was that I “showed absolutely no aptitude” for it.’
Her mouth twisted. ‘I can believe that. I’ve never won a set from anyone before, let alone whitewashed them!’
His eyes were warm as he gazed up at her, his arms resting along the length of his thighs as he sat forward. ‘My talents obviously lie in other directions,’ he told her softly.
Aura readjusted the colourful band about her forehead. ‘How did you and your partner ever go into business together when you seem to have so little in common?’ She deliberately opted for an innocent channel for his ‘talents’ to be directed in.
He shrugged broad shoulders, the T-shirt clinging damply to his back. ‘His father was initially my partner, and when he died I inherited Adrian,’ he added drily. ‘It has, to say the least, been a rocky partnership.’
She wished now that she hadn’t introduced the subject of Adrian into the conversation; just talking about him made her remember what a fool she had been about him. ‘Do you want to play another set or would you like to go and get an ice-cream? My treat,’ she offered.
‘The ice-cream can wait.’ He stood up fluidly. ‘I have to try and leave this game with a little of my dignity left intact.’
He was definitely an athletic man, obviously kept himself fit, and yet when it came to tennis he just didn’t have the co-ordination. It was nice to know there was something he didn’t do well!
She took pity on him in the second set and let him win one game, although she still won the match six-love, six-one.
‘I think I’ve suffered enough humiliation for one day,’ he said with a grimace, putting away their rackets. ‘A work-out in the gym and jogging are my usual forms of exercise.’
She had guessed he hadn’t attained that physique just sitting behind a desk all day, had found it hard not to let her attention sway to the masculine power of his body as he moved around the court rather than concentrating on the game. And she had no intention of falling a victim to that power again.
‘Come on,’ she teased. ‘I know a place where they serve ice-cream that’s home-made and hasn’t been crammed with a load of additives.’
The shop was run by a friend of hers, and the two of them strolled into the park opposite as they ate them.
‘You’re really into healthy food yourself, aren’t you,’ James remarked admiringly.
She nodded. ‘I have a friend who has a little boy who becomes a monster when he eats any food that contains the additives E100 to E300. When he was younger she fed him on all the things it’s easy for little children to eat, hamburgers, sausages, white bread, cakes, crisps—interspersed with the goodness of vegetables and fresh fruit—and he was like something demented most of the time. Helen, his mother, nearly had a nervous breakdown because he was so bad. He was aggressive, violent, didn’t sleep at night—and so neither did she. It became so bad that Helen finally insisted their doctor refer him to a psychiatrist.’
‘And?’
‘And apart from the fact that he was hyperactive they said there was nothing wrong with him,’ Aura drawled. ‘And so it went on, with Helen becoming more and more run down, and Jonathan being a little demon. And then one day Helen read an article on colourings and preservatives in food, and the effect they could sometimes have on children. She was so desperate by this time that she would have tried anything. She changed his diet completely, which didn’t please him at first, especially when he had to drink pure fruit juice instead of the diluted or fizzy kind—most of them are full of colourings and flavours. Within three days Jonathan was already a different child, bright, happy, loving. It was difficult to believe the difference it had made in him. At first Helen feared it might just be a fluke, that any day he would revert to the little monster. It’s been two and a half years now, and he’s one of the most adorable children you could ever wish to meet—as long as he doesn’t accidentally get any of those additives in his food! Helen has even had a second child, something she swore she would never do after the first year she had with Jonathan.’
‘Where do you come into it?’ James asked, interested.
‘At the time people were still very sceptical about the harm of the additives, especially as they make the food look and taste more attractive most of the time, and a lot of the manufacturers refused to accept that their products could produce this Jekyll and Hyde effect. Consequently Helen had tremendous difficulty finding food for Jonathan that wouldn’t make him feel too different from everyone else. I was looking for a business at the time——’
‘So you opened “Health is Wealth”,’ James realised appreciatively.
She nodded. ‘I’m sure that if those additives can be harmful to children then they must also be harmful to adults, in ways we don’t even realise. I refuse to have anything that contains additives in my shop. You have to eat healthily to be healthy, I believe. Does that sound too much like preaching?’ she grimaced, realising how long she had gone on about her favourite subject.
He shook his head. ‘It sounds like a woman who believes in something.’
She gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘Like a woman who had Jonathan to stay with her for a week to give Helen a break—before she had managed to sort out his diet,’ she corrected self-derisively. ‘After only one day with him I understood why Helen couldn’t cope. As for the nights——! Five minutes’ nap in between hours of playtime nearly killed me. Of course some children just are hyperactive, although luckily Jonathan wasn’t one of those ones. He often stays with us now, he and Mummy get on very well together.’ Because Jonathan accepted ‘Aunt Meg’ exactly as she was.
‘I don’t know what was in or out of it, but the ice-cream was delicious.’ James put the last of it in his mouth before throwing the tub in the bin.
Aura was suddenly mesmerised by the smear of ice-cream on his top lip. What would his reaction be if she reached up and——
His eyes darkened. ‘Lick it off, Aura,’ he encouraged throatily.
Her breath lodged in her throat, her startled gaze clashing with his, a blush darkening her cheeks as she realised he had been well aware of the eroticism of her thoughts. ‘We had better be going——’
‘Not yet.’ He clasped her shoulders, his hands a sensual caress against their nakedness. ‘Lick it off, Aura,’ he urged again. ‘I want to feel your tongue on me.’
Aura didn’t think her breathing would ever return to normal as it once again stopped in her throat. He wanted to feel——! The images that statement aroused in her mind went much further than his top lip.
‘Please, Aura!’
His eyes compelled her to move, and she slowly went up on tip-toes to place her mouth against his.
As always, when she was close to this man, she was lost at the first touch, their mouths open and moist as they tasted each other.
James finally raised his head. ‘Your tongue, Aura,’ he groaned raggedly. ‘Give it to me!’
Her eyes closed as he enfolded her against him, feeling dizzy and excessively warm at the same time, obeying his command mindlessly, tasting him and the ice-cream together, having no doubt about which one was making her head spin; she had eaten a whole tub of the delicious ice-cream without feeling in the least light-headed, but the smallest taste of James left her hungering for more.
And she took more, moving down his jaw and throat with open-mouth kisses, reaching the open neck of his T-shirt, the slightly salty taste of his flesh making her thirst, and melt, and ache …!
His hands threaded