Hoops by Patricia McLinn Read Free Book Online Page A

the remaining recruiting nuggets the swarms of prospecting coaches had somehow missed. He’d studied tapes until he’d known each twist and turn.
    Sometimes, like tonight, he felt permanently attached to a VCR. He rubbed his eyes as he pulled a tape out. He wouldn’t have minded it so much if his eyes would just stop superimposing an image over the screen—a smooth sweep of amber-brown hair surrounding a serious face. Carolyn Trent could develop into a real thorn in his side if he let her.
    This morning he’d thought his presence might show the guys how seriously he took the adviser program. But she’d made it damn obvious she didn’t want him around.
    The toffee? Just a little friendly joke. A little teasing to see if she’d come out from behind that marble facade.
    And that moment in his office yesterday when he’d stood close enough to smell the hint of spice and flower in her hair? Or when his arm had absorbed the slight contact with the swell of her breast like a branding iron?
    The memory tightened his body.
    C.J. cursed emphatically and shoved the next tape into the machine. Definitely a thorn.
    * * * *
    Doing her Homecoming duty wasn’t so bad. Being outdoors in the brisk sparkle of an autumn afternoon was nice, and the colors and noise swirling around the football field and stands were wonderful. Oh, the level of play fell below what television audiences would expect, but that suited her fine. This was the way college sports were supposed to be.
    Carolyn just wished that doing her duty didn’t include sitting on these bleachers in front of C.J. Draper. Not when his long legs—the only ones clad in jeans in the entire presidential party—put his shins within tempting reach of providing the backrest her body craved. She shifted for the third time in two minutes.
    “See, that’s the problem with football games,” C.J. said, leaning over from the row behind her to speak directly into her ear. “No backs on the seats.”
    “There are no backs on the seats at basketball games, either, Mr. Draper.”
    Turning to confront him was a mistake. His eyes were so close that she felt wrapped in blue. Against the brisk air the touch of his breath was warm on her cheek. His lips slanted into a grin inches from hers, showing strong white teeth. She turned back to the field, fighting the disturbing sensation that a feather had lodged in her throat.
    “I guess not, but I’ve never sat through a basketball game. I’ve always played.” She couldn’t detect even a note of bragging. “You think maybe that’s why people are jumping up all the time at these games? It’s not so much that they get excited, as they just can’t stand to sit still?”
    Before she could answer, Stewart, seated to her left, spoke up. “Don’t forget about the dinner-dance tonight at the Ashton Club, C.J. It’s one of the best parties at Ashton. Isn’t it, Helene?”
    Helene, sitting on the other side of Stewart, agreed with a laugh. “I guess I think all parties are good, but the dinner-dance and the cocktail party at Mrs. Dawton’s beforehand are something special. She has the most wonderful house up on the Heights with a marvelous view. And she always has such elegant hors d’oeuvres.”
    “Do you have the directions, C.J.?” Stewart asked.
    “I’ve got the address. I’ll find my way.”
    Stewart looked concerned. More concerned than the situation called for, Carolyn thought. He’s up to something.
    She shifted for a better view of his face.
    “It can be very difficult to find. It’s very confusing up there on the Heights. What might work best—” Carolyn became fully alert when she heard the calculated blandness in Stewart’s voice —is if you and Carolyn drove up together.”
    “That’s an excellent idea, Stewart,” Helene seconded quickly, confirming Carolyn’s suspicion. This was a setup.
    “I’m sure Mr. Draper will have no difficulty finding it, Stewart. He has, after all, traveled