Love in Straight Sets by Rebecca Crowley Page A

added several inches to her height. Her hair was loose, falling in caramel waves over the shoulders of her scoop-necked top, and the makeup artist had evidently used every product in her arsenal to highlight each elegant swoop, dip and curve in Regan’s face. She looked elegant, more sophisticated and ready for the cover of a swanky woman’s magazine.
    And yet she was nowhere near as lovely as when she was sweaty, disheveled and scowling at him from the center mark.
    He studied the grain of his trousers as the panel moved on to the next question and he relived that moment in the hallway for the hundredth time. Although he’d suspected that some degree of chronic anxiety lurked beneath her overthinking, tight-gripped surface, watching the mighty Regan Hunter dissolve into a trembling shadow of herself was more jarring than he could’ve expected.
    She was a fascinating study in contrasts. Discovering that her tough exterior held such a soft, secretive core made him all the more intrigued and endeared—and all the more keen to figure out how he could slot into the puzzle of her life.
    At least that had been his thinking until they stepped into the bustle of the greenroom. Des was waiting for them with his arms crossed, and Ben was instantly reminded of what was at stake. As Regan drifted off to hair and makeup, the manager’s warning about keeping his hands to himself echoed in his mind as it so often did.
    “Where have you been?” the Scot muttered. “Regan texted me from the parking lot a half hour ago.”
    “Some rude corporate types were gawking in the elevator, so we took the stairs. Nothing to worry about.”
    Des looked unconvinced but said nothing more as a tall man with silvery-blond hair, an artificially white smile and one of the most recognizable faces in the world advanced on them.
    “Spencer, what a surprise.” Des’s voice was cool as he greeted the recently retired men’s world number one player and—if the tabloids were to be believed—Regan’s ex-boyfriend.
    “I was standing over there by the window and thought, surely that’s not Ben Percy. No one’s seen hide nor hair of him in a decade.” Spencer Vaughan’s upper-class British accent was as nasal as ever as he smiled broadly and stuck out his hand, ignoring Des. “But here you are. What’s brought you out of the woodwork after all this time?”
    Ben kept his expression carefully neutral as he shook hands with his old rival. “I’m on the coaching side of the game these days. I’m working with Regan now. I’m surprised you haven’t heard.”
    Spencer arched one blond brow. “You coach women?”
    “I could make an exception in your case if you’re thinking about a comeback.”
    “You always did have a sense of humor.” Spencer’s smile was as frosty as his tone. “I don’t usually take much notice of the women’s game, but now that things are getting serious with Tanya I’m trying to make an effort.”
    Ben’s jaw tightened. Although he’d formally stepped away from competition, apparently Spencer hadn’t retired his habit of going after every young, pretty player that came up through the game.
    Before he could respond, Spencer continued, “Anyway, I think they’re ushering us to our seats. It’s good to see you again, Ben. If Tanya and Regan stay on track I guess we’ll meet again at the Baron’s. Will this be your first time back since—”
    “Since I beat you in the semifinal?”
    Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “Since you quit the game.”
    Ben forced a friendly smile. “Yes, first time back. I’m looking forward to it.”
    “Regan does have a reputation for dispensing with her coaches. Let’s hope she doesn’t fire you before June rolls around.”
    “She won’t.”
    Spencer looked at Des for the first time. “Confident. I like that.” He returned his attention to Ben. “You know, Regan and I dated briefly. Years ago, now, but I often think of her as the one that got away.”
    “Is that