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Five
Soon after she and Rick arrived at her house—a place that she used to consider her haven and sanctuary until Rick moved in—she decided to escape to the exercise room to let off steam. Every once in a while, the urge to do the right thing and work out for the sake of her career kicked in, so she changed into a sports bra and stretchy pedal pusher exercise pants.
It had been a long day, and she’d risen early only to find Rick in her kitchen. At the studio, she’d gotten prepped in her makeup chair and then shot a few scenes. Afterward, she’d still had to be on, public persona in place, for the interview with Melody. It hadn’t helped that the whole time she’d been aware of Rick lounging beside her—his big, hard body making the sofa seem tiny and crowded.
He’d enjoyed toying with her, too, during the interview. She’d been on pins and needles the whole time, wondering whether he’d say the wrong thing and Melody would see through their charade.
Except the kiss at the end had been all too real. She’d tasted his need and his slow-burn desire underneath the playfulness, and she’d responded to it.
I have to be more careful.
And on that thought, she entered the exercise room and came to a dead halt.
Apparently Rick had had the same idea about burning off steam. And in a sleeveless cutoff tee, it was clear he was in phenomenal shape.
She’d seen her share of beautiful people in Hollywood. But Rick was...impressive. He had washboard abs, a sprinkling of hair on his chest and muscles so defined they looked as if they could have been sculpted by a Renaissance master.
She shouldn’t be once-overing him. She was still annoyed with his behavior in front of Melody that afternoon.
Rick looked up and gave her a careless lopsided smile. “Enjoying the view?”
A wave of embarrassment heated her face. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Yeah, but I’m not airbrushed.”
And there was the problem in a nutshell.
“Need an exercise buddy?”
Oh, no. They were so not going to do this together. “I don’t need you to act as my workout instructor. I’ve been doing fine on my own.”
“Yeah,” he drawled, “I can tell.”
She gave him a quelling look and walked toward the weight bench.
He followed her and then scanned the weights. He lifted one of the lighter ones as if it were a feather and placed it on the bar.
She put her hands on her hips. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Helping you out, but not as much as I’d like.”
“You’re already doing more than I want, so let’s call it a draw a
nd say we’re splitting the difference.”
He quirked his lips. “Just trying to get you to release that pent-up energy and frustration.”
She narrowed her eyes and then lay back on the bench as he fixed the weight on the other side. Unfortunately she hadn’t anticipated how much he seemed to be looming over her from this angle.
She flexed and then grasped the barbell. Before she could do more, however, Rick adjusted her grip.
“I started with sixty pounds,” he said, stepping back. “That’s about right for a woman your size.”
Chiara wondered how much he lifted. He’d hoisted her with amazing agility and ease during their stunts...
Then she turned her attention back to the weights, took a breath and began lifting. Once, twice... Rick faded into the background as she brought the same attention to the task as she did to acting.
“Slow and smooth,” he said after a few minutes. “Slow and smooth... That’s right.”
