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In shorts and sleeveless sports top Mac strode into the workout room and slammed to a halt. He wasn’t alone. Nothing new in that. But never before had Kelli Barnett been here at the same time. Then again, she worked night shift now. He hadn’t known she worked out. Memories of firm muscles and a flat abdomen, a stunning figure accentuated by that dress, waved at him, reminding him of how his groin had tightened. Was tightening now. Went to show he hadn’t really thought about it.
As he watched those long legs running on the treadmill his heart rate was increasing exponentially. Endless legs wound around his waist as they—Gulp. Out of here, now. She hadn’t seen him. He’d be gone before that changed. No way was he working out in the same room as Kelli.
‘Hey, Mac, how’s things?’
Spinning around, he came face to face with the surgeon who’d operated on young Izzie. ‘Andrew, haven’t seen you in here for a while.’ And I’m not about to, considering I’m on my way out.
The pounding of feet on that treadmill was increasing in speed and noise. If Kelli was working up to a top speed she wouldn’t be looking around the gym to see who else was here. He might still get away.
‘Want to lift some weights?’ Andrew asked.
‘Not tonight.’ He stepped aside, intent on leaving, but couldn’t resist glancing across to the treadmills.
Caught. Kelli was holding onto the handlebar with one hand and staring at him as though she was oblivious to what her legs were doing. Her face a picture of surprise and—and annoyance? Either way, she definitely wasn’t happy to see him.
She stumbled. Grabbed at the bar with her free hand, tried to get back to the measured, fast steps required to keep up with the machine’s set speed. She kept tripping, as if she couldn’t quite get it right.
Mac was already halfway to her. ‘Hit the slow button,’ he called as worry thickened his throat. Fall and chances were she’d twist an ankle or sprain a wrist.
The treadmill stopped. Instantly. Kelli lurched forward, banging into the control panel.
‘The slow button, not the off one.’ But he was too late telling her that.
Kelli remained upright, her breasts rising and falling fast, her hands at her sides. But man, could she curse.
Mac stopped beside the treadmill and watched her, his worry backing off, replaced with silent laughter as she gave herself a right lecture. ‘Come on. You’re not that bad,’ he intervened at last.
Then she removed earplugs and glanced at him. ‘Did you say something?’
‘Nothing as potent as that diatribe I just heard.’
Heat seared her cheeks, turning them a sharp shade of crimson. ‘Ouch. Did anyone else hear me?’
‘I doubt it. You’re a quiet banshee.’
‘I’m stupid, is what I am. Losing focus and nearly falling flat on my backside. I can see the photos now. All dressed up for the wedding and sporting bruises up and down my thighs.’
That brought up a mental picture Mac couldn’t contain. His gaze dropped to her thighs. Under Lycra they were toned, smooth, mouth-watering. The skin he could see was tanned, probably the result of time spent in the tropical sun. Then he heard the rest of her sentence. ‘Is your dress very short?’
‘It’s ankle length.’ Kelli looked away. ‘With splits up both sides.’
‘How high do these splits go?’ He wasn’t going to survive if they reached higher than her shins.
‘Umm, to the top of my thighs.’ She still didn’t look at him.
‘Oh, man.’ Survival was out. His heart was already practising speed-dialling and another part of his anatomy was doing a sit-up. ‘I see.’ Unfortunately he could. His imagination was particularly overactive tonight. Pumping a few weights wouldn’t have helped at all. He’d probably pull a muscle. Don’t go there, his mind shouted.
‘You getting on a treadmill?’ his tormentor asked.
‘I’ll hit the rowing machine first.’ Instantly he wanted to snatch the words back. What was wrong with one of the cycle machines? They weren’t directly in front of the treadmills.
‘Right,’ Kelli muttered and punched some buttons to start the conveyor beneath her feet moving. ‘Right,’ a little louder as she slipped her earplugs back in place, pressed the gradient mode and began pounding uphill.
CHAPTER THREE
KELLI RAN UP and down hills on the same spot until the distance monitor came up with five kilometres.
Mac was still in front of her, sweat pouring off him as he worked those pecs and shoulder muscles, rowing his heart out.
While her heart was racing with exertion, and disconcerting need for the man in front of her.
She ran another two kilometres. Her legs might be getting tired, but her brain was still tripping around fast as though it had received a sugar bomb. Not lust, or desire, or anything to do with Mac. Couldn’t be. Those emotions were on lockdown, afraid to surface in case she got sucked in and her heart torn out again when she was only just getting it back in shape after the last time. Now that they were spending the weekend together she had to be more vigilant about keeping hot thoughts about him under wraps. She couldn’t have him looking at her and reading her emotions and needs. Nor could she deal with him kissing her senseless then turning away. Not a second time.
Did she mention desire? Hot and expanding throughout her weary body, her sluggish muscles; livening her up, not preparing her for sleep when she got home.
Time to stop the machine. Nothing was going to shut her brain up. Not in here anyway. Not with Mac wearing the sleeveless top that showed sweat-slicked, tanned skin, and muscles that reminded her how hard that body had felt under her palms.
Slowing the treadmill at a sensible pace this time, Kelli dragged in lungfuls of air and gave up trying to ignore the beautiful sight before her. Mightn’t get another opportunity.
Those broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist and flat belly made for a perfect package. That night dancing in Sydney he’d made her feel small and dainty. Enough so she’d let her hair down and enjoyed being with Mac on the dance floor, letting loose in a way that had made her briefly forget all her insecurities about her size.
‘You going to stand there all night? Or are you going to do some more exercise?’ Mac called over his glistening shoulder.
‘You got eyes in the back of that shaggy head?’ His thick, dark blond hair had lost all semblance of the usual clean-cut style, instead stuck to his scalp with small curls appearing at the edges. Cute. As in man cute, not baby cute.
‘Something like that.’ The rowing machine was slowing, Mac relaxing and letting his arms drop. When he stood up he scrubbed his face with his hand towel. ‘I’m starving. Feel like hitting The Grafton All-Nighter for something to eat?’
Kelli would’ve said no, she didn’t need food; but her stomach had other ideas, announcing with a loud rumble that some grub was the best idea all night. She bit back a curse. Already she doubted she’d get any sleep tonight, and spending the next hour with him would cancel tomorrow night’s quota of zeds as well. ‘Thanks, but I’ll head home and see what’s in the fridge.’ Yoghurt, tomatoes, lettuce, a cucumber and a loaf of bread. Yesterday’s shopping hadn’t been extravagant or expansive.
‘You want to avoid me?’ Mac asked softly.
‘Yes.’
‘When I’m officially your partner for the weekend?’ he added in that soft voice that lifted bumps on her skin.
‘Isn’t that enough?’
A spark of hurt flicked across his face.
Got that wrong, hadn’t she? ‘I thought it’d be enough with you meeting me on Friday and going from there. I didn’t want to take up any more of your time than I’m already doing.’ He hadn’t exactly rushed to welcome her when she’d turned up for work that afternoon after a six-week absence, so he wasn’t likely to want to hang with her much no
w. Yet he had volunteered for the weekend. Nothing made sense when it came to her and Mac.
His hurt remained. Who’d have known he was so sensitive? Not her. Which only added to the guilt starting to crowd her mind.
‘I need to be brought up to speed on a few things,’ he admonished, still softly, but there was no denying the grit behind his words. ‘I can’t put my foot in it when it comes to your family. They’ll expect me to know something about them. Then there’s the other guy.’
Fair enough. ‘Five minutes for a shower?’
‘You sure you’re female?’ Mac started to smile, then stopped. ‘See you shortly.’ He was off, striding across the room, putting distance between them quick fast.
Sharing a meal at The Grafton All-Nighter was going to be a load of fun.
* * *
‘I’ve got Friday off,’ Mac told Kelli after they’d placed orders for bacon and eggs, and lots of tea.
‘That was quick.’ Keen? Nah, determined, more like. He was known for his take-no-prisoners approach to getting things done.
‘It comes with having done many favours over the past year.’ He sculled some water. ‘What time do you intend catching the ferry to Waiheke on Friday?’
‘How about four-thirty at the heliport downtown?’
His eyes widened, but all he said was, ‘Fine.’
