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reflection in all those mirrors. Hunky muscle-y man and his woman. Okay, she
was glad she'd changed into a tighter T-shirt, but there was nothing that could
accessorize a girl like a good-looking male.
Simon whipped out a membership card and swiped it in the card reader,
then tapped in something. A box next to the computer spit out a strip of paper.
"Here you go." He handed it to her.
She waved it at the man who had challenged her earlier and walked right
in. Now what? Simon had gone in through the men's locker room and Sara
still didn't see Hayden anywhere. How was she supposed to approach men?
They were all busy stretching and lifting and, er, sweating. Maybe she should
hunt for Missy.
"Where are you headed first the treadmill to warm up?" Simon appeared
beside her, hands on hips. She'd thought he was going to go off and do his
own thing.
"Um& " Sara looked in the treadmill direction and saw about two dozen
machines lined up and an equal number of people dedicatedly walking and
jogging to nowhere. "I guess so."
He chuckled. "Have you been here before?"
"No."
Simon's lips curved ever so slightly. "Have you ever been to a gym before?"
If you want a guy who's in shape, then he'll have to work out somewhere and he's
going to want a girlfriend who works out, too. That had been Missy's advice
yesterday and now Sara was facing Simon today, hesitant to admit that
exercise had never been her thing. "I haven't been to a gym like this in a long
time."
He gave her a quick once-over. "Then you must jog or something."
Bless his heart. "Or something."
"Shall I show you the machines?"
Simon stood before her in all his manliness. How was she supposed to
forget about him and go looking for other men? Sara caved. "Oh, yes, please."
He started her off on a glider since the treadmills were full.
It was kind of fun like walking on air.
It was kind of fun for about three minutes, then Sara began breathing a little
harder and trying to hide it from Simon, who was on the glider next to hers.
"I looked for you yesterday at work," he said, not sounding breathy at all.
"Oh?" she managed.
"We got the Tripplehorn account out of Glasgow."
"Great!" One-word responses. That was the ticket. That and breathing
deeply and maybe not taking such very large steps and just hanging on rather
than working the arm thingies.
"Thanks again for your help. They were impressed that our company was
personally surveying the hotel. And so am I."
"Hmm." She was going to have to alert Missy and Hayden so they could get
their stories straight. Missy had been in the restroom, and when she'd come
out and hadn't seen Sara or Hayden, she'd left, too. Sara had hoped she
wouldn't have to tell the others that she'd gone back inside.
"You'll want to pace yourself when you're just starting out," he said and
Sara realized she'd been huffing and puffing.
He was going to think she was out of shape. Well, she was, but weren't men
rebelling against hard and skinny female bodies? She'd read an article to that
effect and it had certainly made sense, so Sara had deliberately gone for the
soft, pillowy form.
Maybe her pillow had become a little too lumpy.
She slowed down, then got off the machine and tried to stand on jelly legs.
"I think I'm warmed up now."
Simon checked the timer on her machine. Not even ten minutes. How
embarrassing. Still, without a word, he got off the glider and beckoned her to
the room filled with black and white machines that did who-knew-what forms
of torture. Sara figured she was about to find out.
"Let's start you off with some biceps curls."
Oh, good. Her legs could rest. And her biceps ought to be pretty developed
since she was forever carrying heavy boxes of employee records all over the
place.
With Simon directing her, Sara straddled a bench, lay her arms down an
inclined pad and positioned her wrists beneath two padded rolls. Simon was
busying himself adjusting the weights.
"Okay, one at a time, slowly bring your arms toward you."
"Okay." She pulled and nothing happened. "It's stuck."
"Stand up."
Simon took her place and placed his arms in position. He brought the
padded roll back so hard, Sara thought he was going to break the machine.
Talk about biceps.
Yes, talk about biceps and triceps and all the other ceps that were so nicely
on display.
His mouth quivered at the corner. "It seems to be unstuck now."
"Yes, thanks." Sara hesitated, then against her better judgment, she extended
her index finger. "Is, um, that," she drew her finger down the bulge in his arm,
"the biceps?"
Danger, danger, danger. He looked down at her finger, and his head bent
until their foreheads were nearly touching.
"Yes."
"It's so & big. And hard." She traced the outline of the muscle. "You must
work out a lot."
"Two or three times a week keeps me in shape."
"I could manage two or three times a week."
A couple of beats of silence went by. "You would be amazed at how great
you'd feel."
"Would I?"
He gazed intently into her eyes. "Yes." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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