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Concerned?Yeah, right.
I need to watch what I say around him. He's charming and it's easy to get lost in conversation with him.
“Blaire...” he nods at my chair and I sit on command, fisting my hands in my lap. “Forget about all the heavy stuff.”
That's fucking easy for him to say.I'm sweating in my seat.
“Do youwant totrain daily with me?”
“Huh?”
“In the gym,” he elaborates. “Do youwant totrain daily? I find you quite challenging and I don't find anyone challenging, usually.” He smirks, his sly amusement back in full force.
“If you think you can keep up with the pace, then sure.” I shrug. “Why not?”
“Okay then,” he says, wiping his lips with a napkin before tossing it on the table. “I'll see you in the gym bright and early.”
“Any time specifically?” I watch him gather the dishes on the table.
“Six thirty, if you can manage that.” He stands, and my eyes zero in on his body. “I have to train early because I make a lot of business calls during the day.”
“I can work around your schedule.” I force myself to look up at him, and my next line comes out thick with sarcasm, “It's what I'm here for, isn't it?”
He chuckles, glancing between my eyes and mouth, then he takes the dishes to the sink. “Do you want anything else to eat?”
“No.”
With raised eyebrows, he looks back at me. “No 'thank you'.”
I snort. I barely say please and thank you to my master, so as if I'd be courteous tohim.
“Can I go now?” I say. “Or do you want to grill me some more?”
Shaking his head, he pulls open the fridge for a bottle of beer. “You can go if youwant togo.”
I'm out of my seat before he barely finishes speaking, and the sarcastic me says, “Thank you.”
17
The next morning, I eat a scrambled egg breakfast courtesy of Charlie, wash up the plate and cutlery in the sink, and then I wander inside the gym, ready to put him on his ass again. I'm wearing my trainers, a black long sleeve sweater and sports trousers, my hair rolled back in a bun.
Charlie is on the treadmill already, a little sweaty but lean and running like an athlete. He looks good in gray sports shorts with trainers, no top, his lean legs tanned and dusted in dark hair.
Trying to ignore how gorgeous he is—he's got a better body than Maksim—I pursue for the boxing ring. He stops running as soon as he sees me, pushing a button to slow the pace.
“Morning, Blaire,” he pants out, so I look at him. His lips are curved in a sinfully alluring smile.
I wish he wouldn't smile at me like that. It makes me feel all funny inside.
“You ready?” Tying up his hair, he rolls back off the treadmill. He's only a little breathless but I'm not surprised. He's fit.
“Sure.” Pulling the ropes apart, I climb into the ring and hold them open for him.
“Iwant toteach you something,” he says, straightening and stepping up to me, towering over me.
“What?” I walk backward, wondering why he's walking into me like this... prowling... “You're not going to start questioning me over Maksim again, are you?” The thought just popped into my head. After that intense conversation with him over dinner yesterday, I want to avoid the topic of Maksim like the plague.
“No,” Charlie says, circling me.
