She looked sufficiently contrite. “Sorry. Old habits are hard to break.”
“I know,” he said, his voice much calmer than before. “And I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to be so hard on you.”
“Not a problem. Someone needs to keep me in line.”
Determined to get back down to business, Kieran walked to the foyer where he’d left his equipment bag and returned to find Erica standing at the shelves, studying the photo of her husband. Aside from the deaths of his elderly grandparents over a span of several years, he’d never experienced much loss. He didn’t know how she’d coped with everything she’d been through. Yeah, he did know—by keeping her sense of humor. And that only made him feel worse about his earlier outburst.
After setting the bag aside, he moved behind her and surveyed the photo she continued to hold in her grip. “Must be tough, all the reminders.”
After setting the picture back in place, she turned and gave him a tentative smile. “Sometimes they provide comfort. I was just thinking about how Jeff used to tell me the same thing you just told me. I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. So from this point forward, I vow to look in the mirror every morning and tell myself that I’m special. As long as I’m not naked.”
Yeah, some habits were hard to break, and it could take some time for her to break them, Kieran realized. In the meantime, he’d cut her some slack. “All kidding aside, let’s get started.”
“I’m game. Where do we begin?”
Kieran rifled through the bag and withdrew two hand weights. “We’ll start with these. Five pounds each. Just a few curls.”
Erica did as he instructed without complaining at all. She fully cooperated as he put her through several exercises, including five full-out sprints up and down the driveway, followed by the notorious crunches that had gotten them into trouble during their last session. Only this time, he used his voice, not his hands, to encourage her.
After she’d done two sets of twenty, he told her, “Stand up. I want you to do one more thing, then we’re done for the night.”
She came to her feet and tugged her bulky sweatshirt down over her hips. “Don’t tell me. You want me to bench-press the couch.”
He couldn’t stop his grin. “No. I want you to put your hands on my chest and try to resist me.”
She returned his smile. “Bet you say that to all the women you know.”
“Just do what you’re told without the commentary.”
She gave him a sharp, one-handed salute. “Yes, sir.”
He balled his fists against his chest. “Grab my hands, angle your body away and don’t let me move.”
“Oh, sure. Why don’t we go outside and I’ll push your Porsche around the block?”
“We’ll try that next week, and next week will be here if you don’t get started.”
“Fine, but don’t expect too much.”
When she clasped his hands and delivered only a minimal push, he firmed his frame and pushed back. “Harder, Erica.”
“I’m trying.” And she did try, but not enough for his liking.
“Keep going,” he demanded. “You’re not using your legs.”
Scowling, she regrouped and tried again, and he continued to prod her. “Push harder. Don’t let me come forward. Not even an inch. Pretend you’re fending me off because your life depends upon it.”
Erica unexpectedly stopped, straightened, and before Kieran could level his next command, she planted her mouth on his. All his prior thoughts of right and wrong went by the wayside, thanks to her boldness, her man-killing lips and her unmistakable enthusiasm. She kissed him with no holds barred, adequately robbing him of any remaining scrap of free will.
He recognized he shouldn’t put his arms around Erica, but he did—shouldn’t actively participate, but he did that, too. If he didn’t stop now, he was in danger of taking her down on the sofa where anything could happen, and most likely would. But before he tossed out all common sense, Erica abruptly ended the kiss and took a step back, her eyes wide with the surprise he was also experiencing at the moment.
He cleared his throat and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “What the hell was that?”
She shrugged. “I failed to resist you. Or maybe I was trying to shut you up.”
“It worked.”
“Yes, it did, and quite well I might add.”
Damn, he didn’t know whether to reprimand her or thank her. “You only have to tell me to be quiet.”
“Oh. I never even considered that.” She finished off the comment with a smile to beat all smiles, putting her dimples back on display.
She might not be smiling if she knew how hard it was for him not to kiss her again. How hard he was, period. “We’re finished now.”
She stretched her arms above her head. “Good. I’m tired.”
How the hell could she be so cool after that hot kiss? “Erica, the last time this happened, I told you—”
“It wouldn’t happen again.” She moved in closer and patted his chest, right above his thrumming heart. “Because you don’t kiss clients. Don’t worry, I kissed you, so your ethics are still intact.”
“That’s pretty skewed logic.” Even though he admittedly liked her way of thinking.
She inched a little closer, an almost predatory twinkle in her eye. “Does it bother you, having a woman make the first move?”
Did it bother him? Oh, yeah. In ways she couldn’t know unless she moved completely against him, or took a look down south. “We agreed we can’t do this.”
“I don’t recall agreeing to anything aside from the personal training, but if that’s the way you want it, then you’ll get no argument from me.”
Kieran noted a hint of vulnerability in Erica’s eyes and hated that he shared responsibility in putting it there. “At any other time, under different circumstances, if you kissed me like that, we’d be naked about now. But I’m still your trainer, you’re still my client, and as long as that holds true, we both need to control ourselves.”
“Fine. I have to see if Stormy’s in bed.”
Kieran found it amazing that she’d gone from sexy she-devil to typical-mom mode as easily as flipping a light switch. “Come to the club tomorrow at 6:00 p.m. and be prepared to work for at least two hours. We’ll cover cardio and strength training then.”
“Okay. I’ll bring Stormy.” Her smile came out of hiding again. “We probably need a chaperone.”
Without responding, Kieran picked up his bag, rushed out the door and drove away before he did something stupid, like go back inside and ask her if he could stay the night. His mother’s talk about honor drifted back into his brain, and as much as he wanted to make love to Erica—and he damn sure wanted that—wisdom dictated he remain strong in his convictions, or back out as her trainer and get out of her life while he still could.
He couldn’t lay claim to much wisdom at the moment, because no matter how close he was to a possible train wreck, he couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing Erica again.
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