Shelley Longstaff finally has her chance to be in charge only to rue the day when she is asked to train the dreaded Anna Fortier, a gymnast who has no sense of sportsmanship and makes everyone in her vicinity miserable. When Shelley refuses, she’s threatened with a lawsuit by her father. To make things worse, Shelley has an inexplicable attraction to the arrogant rich lawyer!
Since his wife’s death five years ago, Jacques (Jack) Fortier does whatever it takes to protect what is his. Shelley’s club is his last resort to keep his daughter in the sport, but threatening to sue her isn’t exactly his smartest move. When she grudgingly agrees to give Anna a chance, he finds himself attracted to the spritely gymnastics coach – the first woman he’s had any feelings for since his wife passed away.
As Shelley and Jack leap over the line in their parent-coach relationship, Shelley worries over falling in love with a man who admittedly still loves his late wife. But when a crisis of teenage proportions threatens their relationship, will they risk everything for the chance to achieve The Perfect Score?
He didn’t say anything, but placed a hand on top of the one she had on his thigh. That’s when she
noticed the intimacy of their current position. Flustered, she stood and gestured with her hands. “I
wanted to go to the Olympics when I was little, but as I got older, I realized I wouldn’t make it. I changed
my vision. I wanted to be able to compete, and later I wanted to become a coach. At university, I studied
human movement, and I chose to be a part of the sport in a different way.”
“It’s something to think about.”
The faraway tone of his voice told her he didn’t like admitting defeat. Their eyes met again, and the
intensity of his gaze had Shelley frozen to the spot. He rose, towering over her, and picked up one of her
hands. Lifting it up to eye level, he flattened his palm against hers. Her hand was half the size.
Her heart pounded when he folded his fingers over hers, and the sound of blood rushing in her ears was
all she heard. A small smile blossomed as she remembered what she’d thought the first time she’d seen
the size of his hands.
“I like it when you smile,” he said, his voice deep. “What are you thinking?”
“The first time I saw your hand I thought it would cover my whole chest. Such an inappropriate thought
when first meeting a parent of a potential club member.” She snapped out of her stupor and blushed
deeply. “Oh, dear Lord, I can’t believe I said that.”
He shifted his gaze to her breasts. “Shall we test your theory?”
Her nipples hardened in response, and her eyes widened. “It’s not appropriate for you to be staring at
“You shouldn’t have mentioned them.”
“Are we sixteen?”
“Far from it.” He glanced at her lips. “I suppose it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to kiss you.”
“Precisely.” Her voice was far too breathy for her liking. She tried taking her hand out of his, but he
tightened his grip.
“I’m going to do it anyway.” He lowered his face toward hers.
She turned her head, trying to remain in control of this situation. Her brain told her this wasn’t a good
idea. Her body said, What the hell? “Jack.” Her firm tone should have brooked no argument. Too bad it
came out with a quiver.
His eyes closed. “Say it again.”Her voice trembled when she spoke. “Say what?”
“My name. I hate it when you call me Mr. Fortier.”
“Mr. Fortier,” she began, but Jack caught her chin gently in his hand. Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t
try to escape. “Do you always expect to get what you want?”
“Not a lot of people say no to me.” His lips were a hair’s breadth away from hers. “Please say my name.”
With their lips almost touching, she whispered, “Jack.”
She had been about to say they should keep their relationship professional, and intimate contact was
out of the question. But when he sealed her lips with a kiss, further protest died in her throat. He added
a little pressure, and warmth spread throughout her entire body.
Her body responded like a woman dying of thirst needs water. She thought his kisses would’ve been
aggressive like him, but this was unlike any kiss she had ever experienced. It spoke of moonlit walks and
breakfasts in bed, promised tender good nights, and passionate good mornings, whispered words meant
only for a lover’s ear, and dreams shared only with another.
Shelley had always viewed a kiss as a prelude to sex, but never to her future.
She drew back and pressed a shaking hand to her lips. Future? She had no future with this man beyond
seeing him from time to time at the gym when he brought his daughter for practice.
Completely unnerved, she could only muster two words. “Oh. Wow.
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