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She’d known, Spencer thought furiously as people swarmed around her. Ashkey had known all along that she was there. Her anger wasn’t the hot, logical result of being outmaneuvered, but small, silver slices of cold fury. Ashley had let her know in ten seconds, without words, that the game was still on. And she always won.

Not this time though, she told herself. She had changed too. But she stood where she was, rooted, staring out at the now empty court. Her thoughts were whirling with memories, emotions, remembered sensations. People brushed by her, already debating the match.

She was a 5’5", with a slim figure tanned gold from hours in the sun. Her hair was long and blond. Over three years of retirement, Spencer hadn’t altered it. Her face seemed more suited to the glossy pages of a fashion magazine than the heat and frenzy of a tennis court. A weekender, one might think, looking at her elegant face. Not a pro. The nose was small and straight above a delicately molded mouth she rarely thought to tint. Makeup on the courts was a waste of time, as sweat would wash it away. Her eyes were blue, a shade of blue that hinted at green. One of her few concessions to vanity was to darken the thick pale lashes that surrounded them.

While other women competitors added jewelry or ribbons and bows to court dress, Spencer had never thought of it. Even off the court her attire leaned toward the simple and muted.

An enterprising reporter had dubbed her "The face" when she had been eighteen. She’d been nearly twenty-two when she retired from professional play, but the name had stuck. Hers was a face of great beauty and rigid control. On court, not a flicker of expression gave her opponent or the crowd a hint of what she was thinking or feeling. One of her greatest defenses in the game was her ability to remain unruffled under stress. The standard seeped into her personal life.

Spencer had lived and breathed tennis for so long that the line of demarcation between woman and athlete was smudged. The hard, unbendable rule, imposed by her mother, was ingrained into her – privacy, first and last. Only one person had ever been able to cross the boundary. Spencer was determined she would not do so again.