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one of them,” Thomas said.
    “And if I did?”
    “Will you be joining one or both in London later this month?”
    “No, sorry to disappoint you,” Terrence said, smiling.
    “Hey, you could never disappoint me, man. I wasthere that night when the Dolphins clobbered the Cowboys to go to the Super Bowl thanks to your winning touchdown. You’re the greatest.”
    He chuckled. “No, Muhammad Ali is.”
    “Oh, then you’re the second greatest, and if you did date one of the Williams girls, then you’re also my hero.”
    Terrence shook his head again. It was one of those days.
     
    An hour later Terrence turned off his mike and removed his headset again before standing to work the kinks out of his body. He had gotten a record number of calls today. It seemed everyone had to say something about the Grand Slam season.
    He glanced over at the glass booth. He could see the top of Sherri’s head, which meant she was still there, probably telling disappointed callers the show was over. His lips curved into a smile when she stood and caught his eye. They hadn’t said a word to each other for a couple of weeks while effectively waging one hell of a mental battle. As far as he was concerned such a battle could be fought anywhere but could only end in the bedroom.
    Okay, so they were at opposing crossroads. She had happily ever after in her sights and he had noplans of indulging in anything remotely close. But what did that have to do with overactive testosterone and raging hormones? They were adults. They had needs. Who said they couldn’t enjoy each other without any promises of tomorrow? No expectations. No obligations.
    He imagined she assumed that she’d had the last word, and for the past couple of weeks he’d let her. That had given him time to think, make a few decisions and formulate a revised plan. The bottom line was that, for a reason he still hadn’t yet figured out, he wanted her. He’d wanted other women in the past, but none with this degree of wanting. It kept him up at night with thoughts of how it would feel to slide between those luscious-looking thighs.
    The two kisses they’d shared that night had done more damage than good. He thought if the kisses alone were that explosive, how would it feel to get naked with her, share her bed, get inside her body and take the word stroking to a whole other level and then some? He got hard just thinking about it. With him, being hard equated to one thing: getting laid.
    Playing Mr. Nice with her hadn’t gotten him anywhere, so it was time he lived up to his name. Determined, he moved toward the booth at the same time she came out of it. He stopped dead in his trackswondering how a woman could look both professional and sexy at the same time. She liked wearing those business suits, and one of these days he intended to peel one right off her body, along with whatever she was wearing underneath.
    He began walking again and came to a stop in front of her. He felt the sexual tension, a lot stronger today. “Hello, Sherri.”
    “Terrence. It was a nice show.”
    He smiled. “Thanks. And you look nice.”
    He hated making small talk when what he really wanted to do was scoop her up into his arms and take her somewhere—her office was one consideration—and make love to her until she begged for more and then start the hot and delicious process all over again until they were out of each other’s systems.
    “Thank you.”
    “So what are you doing for lunch?” he asked, looking at his watch.
    “Haven’t made any plans yet,” she responded softly. “More than likely I’ll work through lunch.”
    He looked back at her and smiled. “And miss the opportunity of going off somewhere with me to make out?”
    Any doubts he’d had that she wanted him as much as he wanted her dissolved then and there. Desirewas there in the eyes looking back at him. It was there in her expression, although she was trying like hell to hide it. Why was she so opposed to a short,