“I like it when you blush.” Turning away, he reached for the power button of the treadmill. He really was determined to kill himself.
“No more running for today,” I said desperately. What could I possibly do to stop him? “Um—take off your clothes and lie down.”
He gave a low laugh. “You really don’t want me to run. Very well,” he said gravely. “If you’re determined to lure me away with sex, I accept.”
“Take your clothes off for a massage. I don’t want you to stiffen up....” The corners of his lips quirked, and I scowled. “Shut up!”
“I didn’t say anything,” he said meekly.
I pointed at the massage table. “You know what I want.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do.” Stepping off the treadmill, Edward looked down at me with a gleam of light in his eyes. “I’m just surprised it’s taking you so long to admit it.”
He was so close. And looking at me so intensely. My heart was pounding. All he had to do was reach out and take me in his arms.
“Admit what?” I breathed, trying to ignore the bead of sweat between my breasts as heat flashed through me. “Admit you’re a colossal pain?”
“Have it your way.” With a grin, he stepped back and reached up to pull his T-shirt off his body. “So you want me naked, huh? I knew sooner or later you’d be begging me to—” He flinched, and exhaled, dropping his arms. Gritting his teeth, he started to try again.
“Stop. Is it your shoulder?”
“It’s fine,” he ground out, an obvious lie. He must have hit his shoulder harder than I’d thought.
Coming to him, I ran my hands over his shoulder anxiously, then exhaled. “It’s not dislocated.”
“I told you.” He started to reach up to pull off his shirt.
“Stop. Let me do it.”
He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming. “Be my guest.”
My hands shook as I lifted his faded cotton T-shirt upward, trying to ignore the warmth and steel of his tautly muscled chest and shoulders beneath my fingertips. I yanked it over his head, tousling his dark hair that my fingers longed to touch, to see if it was as silky as it looked.
He straightened. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” I couldn’t stop my eyes from lingering over his hard-muscled form laced with dark hair. I licked my lips.
Then our eyes met.
Our bodies were still so close together. The upper half of his body was now naked.
And Edward suddenly smiled.
Not a friendly smile. A dangerous one, full of masculine power that threatened all kinds of things. Things I would like. Things that would pleasure my body. Things that would break my heart.
But I’d already had my heart broken once. And if Jason Black had broken it, Edward St. Cyr would crush it, smash it, light it on fire and then laugh, as he watched the ashy remains float softly to the ground.
“Are you going to take off the rest of my clothes, or shall I?” His dark sapphire eyes gleamed. “It might assist in your massage to take off your own clothes as well.”
A selfish man may try to tempt the unwary virgin into sensual pleasures beyond her imagining, Mrs. Warreldy-Gribbley had warned. There is only one means of resistance. The weapon of icy courtesy.
Coldly, I lifted my chin. “This isn’t a date. Your muscles need to be massaged after all your exercise today, and the fall. Otherwise you’ll hurt.” Grabbing a large white towel, I flung it at him. “Don’t lift your shoulder again today. Let me know when it’s safe to turn around.”
Folding my arms, I turned the opposite direction. Furious at myself.
Why did I let him have this effect on me? No other client, and there had been some good-looking ones, had remotely made me feel like this. Even Jason had never made me feel like this. The times he’d kissed me had been pleasant. But he’d never made me feel so confused, off-kilter, and well, burning hot....