The sun was already lowering by the time the match ended, painting the tennis club's immaculate courts in shades of amber and rose. The crowd applauded politely, some guests drifting back toward the clubhouse where glasses of champagne and light hors d'oeuvres awaited. But Dwayne barely noticed the shifting light or the genteel applause. His eyes, sharp and stormy, were fixed on one thing only—Courtney.
She was standing at the edge of the court, her hair slightly undone from the day, the white summer dress she'd chosen fluttering with the evening breeze. She had cheered Sean on politely during the match, her voice soft but enough for Dwayne to hear from the opposite side. He had told himself it didn't matter, that she was only being courteous, but his fists had tightened on the racket until his knuckles turned pale.
