Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
She was his nemesis, and that brought him an immense amount of joy. It’d be so incredibly awkward to turn that into a sexual thing that, given his track record, would no doubt crash and burn—and then they’d be familiar strangers. The thought made him want to shudder.
Nope, nope, nope.
His thoughts about Catie’s curves—and the attendant physical reaction—could go right back into the mental box in which they belonged. He repeated that admonishment more than once as he went through his workout.
What he could actually do with was a hard run. Since he couldn’t go out on the streets, he powered up the treadmill, set it to his preferred speed and incline, and got on with it. After breaking once to check on the cheese-and-ham muffins he had in the oven, he picked up where he’d left off.
He’d used some frozen shredded zucchini he’d found in the freezer—because of course Jacqueline had something so random stocked—as a base for the muffins, so they were healthy in the overall scheme of things, but he was really there for the cheese. His mum had taught all her boys to cook, but it had taken Danny a while to get into it.
When he had finally hit his groove, he’d discovered that while he enjoyed cooking well enough, he absolutely loved to bake. His next challenge was pastry from scratch—that stuff was fricking hard, especially since he wanted to make these particular pastries that he’d eaten once in Paris.
Frowning, he kept himself occupied with thoughts of how to refine his recipe as he finished up his run, then decided to do a cooldown. Since, according to the weather report, he’d be stuck in this apartment for today and tomorrow at least, there was no need to push it all in during one workout. He could pepper things in through the day.
His phone rang just as he was finishing up.
Seeing his coach’s name on the screen, he felt his gut twist.
* * *
Catie came out of her bedroom, dressed in her beloved velour sweat suit; a designer item, it would’ve been ridiculously rich-girl OTT if she hadn’t found it on special at an online retailer that was trying to get rid of excess stock. She tried not to spend her money frivolously—and she never touched Jacqueline’s money for anything private beyond her prostheses.
The latter she could justify because what she saved on those, she could pass on to other amputees, and she was often a guinea pig for various new prosthetic developments and adjustments for which she had to give detailed feedback and go in for multiple fittings and tests. It felt like a fair exchange.
“You’re just a money hoarder,” her father had said more than once with a cheerful laugh. “Baby girl, your mother is filthy rich. Tap that well.”
And that was the difference between her and Clive.
Sniffing the air, she headed unerringly to the delicious cheesy smell coming from the kitchen. A set of perfect golden muffins sat on a cooling rack that she hadn’t even known was in the apartment. She reached to grab one, snatched back her hand. She did have some manners.
Since Danny’s door was closed, he was likely in the shower after his own workout. She’d taken a bit longer because she’d wanted to wash her hair and shave her legs. You’d think the tasks would be quick enough, but with getting into different legs for the shower and all the rest, it was a bit of a mission.
Deciding she had the self-control to wait for Danny, she set the table for lunch, then made a couple of smoothies. She knew the kind Danny drank while he was training, and it wasn’t hard to put together with the ingredients on hand. She was just placing his green concoction by his plate when he stepped out of his room.
His hair was damp, his body clad only in a T-shirt and a pair of old shorts that barely covered half his tattoo. Jerking her misbehaving eyes up to his face, she smiled. “You look cheerful. Good news?”
“Yeah.” Padding over to the kitchen area on bare feet, he grabbed the butter as well as a side dish of fresh salad he’d prepared at some point, added both to the table. “Talked to my Harriers coach, and he’d already talked to management beforehand. They made the call to touch base on this with the national team too.”
Blowing out a breath between smiling lips, he said, “In summary, my medical records came through, the doctors and Vili backed me up, and apparently the fact I filed a police report was the icing on the cake. I’m good.”
Joy sparked bright in her veins. Not thinking about it, she threw her arms around him. “That’s great, Danny.”
Wrapping his own arms around her, he lifted her off her feet in a huge bear hug. Catie normally hated being treated this way—but the men of the Bishop-Esera family were an exception. Maybe because when it came time to talk sport, they never talked down to her. They discussed her career with the same dead seriousness they discussed the rugby careers of Jake and Danny.