What the Prince Wants. Jules BennettЧитать онлайн книгу.
Her eyes roamed over the apparatus in the workout room. An image of her sweating with him flashed through his mind which led to other images of them sweating and he cursed himself. If he didn’t get control over his libido he’d have more trouble on his hands than he could possibly handle.
“If I wanted to start working out, what would you recommend? The treadmill? I’m pretty out of shape.”
Out of shape? Everything about her shape screamed perfection. He never was one of those guys who needed his woman to be supermodel thin. He preferred having plenty of curves to explore.
When her eyes came back to his, he fought the urge to pull her inside and get that sweat going. He’d bet his royal, jeweled crown she would look even sexier all flushed, with a sheen of perspiration across her body.
“Do you really want to work out?” he asked. “I don’t want you to feel pressured. I’m just offering the room to you.”
Darcy shrugged. “I could stand to lose a few pounds.”
Anger simmered beneath the surface. “Who told you that?”
Darcy entered the room and checked out the elliptical, the treadmill, the free weights. “He’s no longer in the picture, but that’s not what matters. What matters is that I’ve let myself go, and with all of this at my fingertips I don’t see why I shouldn’t take advantage of it while I’m here.”
Colin stepped in and came up behind her, close enough to touch. He clenched his hands at his sides. “If you want to feel better about yourself, that’s one thing. If you’re doing this because some bastard told you you’re overweight, then I have a problem.”
Her shoulders stiffened as she turned. The second she realized how close they were, her eyes widened, but she didn’t step back. Their bodies were only a breath apart and with each inhale, the tips of her breasts brushed against his chest. He was playing with fire and damn if he could stop himself. He’d always lived for the adrenaline rush and Darcy got his blood pumping.
Being this close he noticed a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. There was so much innocence in this woman, yet in some ways she seemed too tough to be innocent. She’d gone through hard times, according to her. Even if she hadn’t said so, he could tell by the way she was headstrong, determined and focused. How the hell could he not find that completely sexy?
“My weight may have been mentioned in my last relationship,” she told him, keeping her eyes on his. “But he’s history and I want to do this for me. Will you help me or not?”
Would he help her? Close quarters, alone without Iris as a buffer and having Darcy’s body as his sole focus for hours? He may not want this attraction, but it was there nonetheless and only an idiot would turn her down.
“I’ll help you,” he told her. “We’ll start tonight after Iris goes to bed. That work for you?”
Her smile spread across her face, lighting up those expressive eyes. “It works if you take it easy on me.”
Oiktirmon. Mercy.
“Oh, I plan on giving you just what you need.”
What had she been thinking? Darcy had been so impressed by the gym she’d opened her mouth before she could even think about what she was saying. Now she’d committed to exercising with someone who should be posing for calendars sans shirt, while she looked like the before picture on a Weight Watcher’s ad.
She’d been taken with Colin and his blunt declaration of attraction. Apparently a lust-filled haze had clouded her mind and hindered her common sense. He’d called out the obvious and now they both had to deal with the tension that would no doubt envelop them every time they were together.
Dinner had been comfortable, though. Iris as the focal point certainly helped. Now she was bathed and in bed, and Darcy had pulled on her favorite yoga pants and an old Loving Hands T-shirt. After pulling on her worn tennis shoes, she headed toward the gym.
The whirring of the treadmill filtered out of the partially open doors and into the hallway. When Darcy peeked around the corner, she was so, so glad she had the advantage of being behind him. Obvious eye-candy images aside, she was thankful no one could see her because there was no way she could take in this male form, all sweaty, shirtless and in action, and not stand here with her mouth open, eyes wide.
The full view of his tattoo caught her attention. A dragon started over one shoulder blade, swirled down one biceps and disappeared over his shoulder to the front. Her fingers itched to trace the pattern, to feel all that taut skin beneath her fingertips. Surely there was some meaning behind the image. Most people had tattoos based on something personal in their lives. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever uncover anything beneath the surface with him.
Just as Darcy eased the door open, Colin stumbled, shouted a curse and smacked the red emergency button on the treadmill. Gripping the sides of the machine, he panted, head hanging between his shoulders.
“Are you all right?” she asked, crossing to the piece of equipment in case he needed help.
Colin jerked his head around, wincing as he caught sight of her. “I thought you’d be longer with putting Iris down.”
As he turned completely and started to step down, his leg went out from under him and he collapsed, landing hard on the belt of the machine.
Darcy squatted beside him, her hands resting on his bare knee. “Colin, are you okay?” she repeated.
Stupid question, as he’d obviously hurt himself and was trying to hide the fact. Still, she couldn’t just stand here and not do or say something.
“Fine,” he bit out through gritted teeth. “I’m supposed to walk every day, but the doctor says if I feel like it I can try jogging.”
“Is that why you were running full speed on an incline when I came in?”
His eyes met hers. There went that click once again when this man stared at her. The intensity of his gaze couldn’t even be put into words because she’d never experienced such a force in her life.
“I’m not going to be held prisoner by this injury.” His tone left no room for argument. “And I don’t want your pity.”
Colin’s eyes held hers another second before they dropped to her hands on his knee. The dark hair on his leg slid beneath her palms as she started to remove her hands. Instantly, his hand covered hers, holding her in place.
“I wasn’t feeling pity,” she whispered. “Attracted, intrigued, yes. Not pity.”
His thumb stroked the back of her hand. “This can’t be an issue.”
She knew he wasn’t referring to his injury or the fact that she’d found him in a state of pain.
“It’s already an issue,” she retorted, not even trying to pretend she had no idea what he was referring to. “We just have to take control of the tension instead of it controlling us.”
His eyes held hers, the muscle ticked in his jaw. “Are you ready to get sweaty?”
Darcy swallowed, then took her own advice and tried to get a grip. Offering a smile, she said, “If you’re trying to keep this attraction on the backburner, I think you probably shouldn’t ask questions like that.”
Laughing, Colin started to rise. “Just wanted to see the look on your face.”
The man actually laughed. And there went that zing of desire shooting through her again, because a brooding Colin was sexy, but a smiling Colin was flat-out irresistible.
Darcy came to her feet. “I’m sure I didn’t disappoint,” she joked.
As Colin got his feet beneath him, Darcy took a step back. “So what are you recovering from?”