Race For Love (7 page)

"
C
ome on Kisima
, You can do this. Just one more rep, give me all you can." Derek's voice was insistent.

Sweat dripped from Kisima's brow into her eyes and she swiped it away with the back of her hand. Next time, she was going to need a sweatband. "I swear to God if you don't shut up, I'm going to kill you."

Derek, the idiot, didn't realize his life was in mortal danger and he grinned. "That's my girl, cuss at me all you like. Just as long as you keep moving. Five more. Make me proud. Make me a believer in KM Jennings. I want to believe."

She lifted her legs, but they only managed to move an inch. It was tempting to stop pushing. It was so tempting. She was tired. Exhausted. And forget about the pain, which was acute, but she mostly was just exhausted. But another inch and the weight held, and so did her legs. She pushed further and lifted her legs until they were parallel with the floor.

"Yes. That's my girl. Four more. Just fight through. Visualize the Abu Dhabi track you're about to face. It's a hundred and twenty degrees outside. You are roasting alive in your suit, but you're in second position. You can see the lead car in front of you and it's Gifford's driver. What are you going to do? Give up?"

Through clenched teeth, she muttered, "Fuck, no." Rick Fontana was Gifford's driver number one. The asshole had made her last season awful. She'd been chasing his ass when she'd had her accident. Through clenched teeth, she muttered, "I would rather fucking die." She pushed out another one. Then another. All the while, Derek talked to her.

Right in front of her, he spoke in terms she would understand. Track terms. Walking her through the various tracks that were her favorites. On the last rep, he leveled a gaze at her. Those intense blue eyes were all she focused on and it made things easy. Okay, not easy, but easier.

When she was done, he whooped and unhooked her out of the chair.

He slid her out of the seat, but before handing her back her crutches, he picked her up and twirled her around. "I am so fucking proud of you. See what happens when you work hard?"

His enthusiasm was contagious. Honestly she was too tired to even move, but she enjoyed the hell out of him holding her.

She held on as tight as her shoulder would allow and tried not to be obvious as she inhaled deeply. "Thanks. Now maybe you'll let me go pass out?"

He put her down but helped keep her upright as he handed her the crutches. "Not yet. Soon, I promise. But first, I'm going to ask you to give me everything you have left."

No. She had nothing left. "That would be nothing, cowboy. I'm done."

"Somehow, I think that's not true. I've seen you. I've been watching some of your old tapes, you're daring and brash, you take risks and you're brave. I think you can do this."

She wobbled and took the crutches from him. "Don't think I don’t recognize someone blowing smoke up my ass."

"Maybe a little smoke." His grin flashed.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll keep going, but you have to distract me."

"With what?"

"Something, anything. Make it good because I'm not down for this workout."

"Fine, you can ask me anything you want to know."

Her eyes went wide. "What? Personal insight into Derek Donovan? Ooh, juicy." She had wanted to know something about him. "Okay, tell me about your life. Are you always torturing your clients?"

He smirked as he pushed her through some weights. "I was born, grew up in New York. Played basketball, and here I am."

"Come on, Clark Kent, give me something. If I'm going to have you yelling at me, we should at least know each other. I mean, are you married? I see no ring, but you never know. Girlfriend? Gay? Who are you personally?"

He coughed a laugh. "Married? Gay? No on both."

"So you have a girlfriend then. What's she like?" She ignored the pang of pain. This was good. Now he was way off limits. "Do you yell at her like you yell at me?"

"First, I'm not yelling." He pursed his lips. "No girlfriend either."

Yay! Shit
. "Why not. You're certainly not ugly." She was far too happy about this.

He barked out a laugh. "Thanks for the glowing compliment."

She shrugged. "I mean, you're okay, if you like that handsome superhero kind of thing."

"And do you?" His gaze was focused on her arms as she lifted, but his voice was low, husky. "Like that superhero sort of thing?"

"Only if I'm not being yelled at or being forced to eat quinoa."

He shook his head as he laughed. "You're still mad about the quinoa, I get it."

She moved the weight to her good arm. "So what's wrong with you that you can't keep a girlfriend?"

"It's not a matter of keeping one. I just prefer to keep things casual. It's easier to avoid being manipulated that way. If both parties know the score, no one gets any unclear expectation. So I keep things simple. Casual." He kept her going and it was easier to work when he was talking to her about something other than the workout. "Since we're getting all up close and personal, I don't see anyone around besides Christian."

"Did he really need to remind her about Christian? She still had no idea what she was going to say to him when he came home in a few weeks. She cared about him, but not the way he wanted. "Does my battery operated boyfriend count? Because I probably should buy stock in Duracell batteries."

He stopped spotting her and stared for a good several moments, then his laugh filled the gym, ricocheting off the walls. "Are you serious right now?"

She suppressed a giggle. "What? A girl's got needs."

His intense gaze focused on her lips. "Why not, as someone once said to me, you're not ugly."

"Hardy har." Of course he'd hurl her words back on her. "Let's just say I got a nasty ass burn the last time I tried, so I'm not too keen on doing that shit again. At least not the whole handing your heart over to someone to destroy part. 'Cause that part sucks."

He nodded. "But a girl's got needs?"

This time she laughed. "Yep, a girl's got needs all right."

He leaned in so close, his breath tickled her ear and pure molten heat flooded her veins, shorting all her brain functions. She swallowed hard, as he whispered her name. "Hey, Kisima?"

God, she wanted to melt into that voice. "Hmmm?"

"I'd like to point out that you did two extra reps per arm. So see, you did have more in you."

"Asshole," she muttered.

"Careful now. You sweet-talk me like that and I'm going to start thinking you like me.” Then he gave her the full effect of his laughing grin.

Good lord, if he only knew what that did to her body. Or maybe he did and that's why he smiled so much. "Bite me."

"You say the sweetest things. Come on. I want to see you walk the plank one more time."

"So you want me to be Tinker Bell to your Captain Hook? You should have just said if you wanted to role play."

He blinked at her for a moment, then a loud barking laugh tumbled out of his chest. "You're a trip. Later we can live out your pirate fantasy, right now we work."

"Fine. But has anybody ever told you you're a sadist."

His expression went blank, then he said, "You're the one who put a video camera in my bedroom? I swear, it's only a little light spanking between friends."

Despite herself, she laughed. Even though the alarm bells rang, she ignored them. This was flirting.
She
was flirting. With her trainer. She had problems. "Spanking huh? I didn't figure you as the type."
Shut up. Shut up. Stop flirting with the man. Do your work, focus.

His pupils dilated and he took a step toward her. "You looking to find out for yourself, Kisima?"

She was unsteady on her feet, but that had nothing to do with her crutches or her injuries. It was all him. Is this the elusive feeling she'd been missing with Christian. That free-falling, desperate feeling. Now she understood. She finally got why people were willing to kill for love, for sex. Willing to die for it. She felt too hot, and itchy and...needy, but she loved it. She liked the feeling. "I—"

"How are you guys coming along?"

Startled, she jerked and tumbled into him for the second time that day. He, on the other hand, seemed perfectly composed. The only hint that a thick cocoon of tension swirled around them was his slightly parted lips and dilated pupils, his eyes having gone from bright blue to more of a navy color.

He spoke smoothly as he still held her. "Coming along great, TJ." He kept his gaze on her as he spoke, though. "I'm just trying to convince Kisima that she wants to try her hand at walking again. What do you say?"

Walking, yeah, that's what she wanted to try. She swallowed hard, ready to cuss him out for backing her into a corner, but she considered her audience. "Hey, TJ."

Her surrogate father had this way of commanding any room he walked into, but somehow with Derek there, his presence didn't feel as great. "Hey, Kiss." He kissed her on the temple. "You look like you've been working hard. I'd love to see how you're coming."

Fantastic, he wanted to watch? "Great, you're gonna get to see me shuffle three feet."

Derek stepped aside to give her a clear path. "What was that I said this morning?"

She rolled her eyes as she responded automatically, "Any progress is good progress." She should know it by now, he'd been saying it to her all morning.

Automatically, TJ reached for her elbow to help her and she shrugged him off. "Thanks, but I can do it."

He opened his mouth to protest and Derek shook his head. That shut him up quickly. She hated to admit it, but the sadist might have been right about the crutches. She'd been on them half a day and she already had way more mobility. It wasn't entirely pleasant, she felt weak, but at least she was moving on her own. And that counted for more than she would have figured two weeks ago.

At the parallel bars, she slid her gaze to Derek and he nodded. She shifted her weight from one of the crutches to the bars, dropping the crutch to the soft spring floor they'd mounted underneath the parallel bars. When she did the same with the other one, all her weigh was on her arms and her shoulder protested.

Derek shifted position, stepping right in front of her until he had her left side partially supported and she didn't put too much strain on her shoulder. "Remember what I said, trust your legs. They know what to do. They might be stiff and weak and hurt a little, but trust them. Give your shoulder a break.”

She gritted her teeth together and tried to focus on her feet. "Easy for you to say."

His voice was soft, but gentle. "Look at me, Kisima. At my eyes, not at your feet. Follow my voice and just come to me."

She understood what he was trying to do. Convince her that she could move without willing them to. They'd done this before. And she'd tried the same thing then. But now, looking at him was loaded with extra emotion she wasn't accustomed to. And she was acutely aware that TJ was watching them. But the moment their gazes locked, it was impossible to look away. She focused on his voice and not the pain.

The first step was the hardest. Given the work she'd already done for the day, her hip was talking to her. That hip flexor being forced to work for the first time in months. The calf of her right leg also protested, but it worked. He was right, all she had to do was trust her body. She was able to walk. It would just hurt at first until she gained the strength.

"Come to me, Kiss, you got this. Show TJ how hard you've been working."

"I expect a very big treat today. Like maybe some food with some flavor."

"You have a problem with my cooking, Kisima?"

"Your cooking is fine, but if I see any more quinoa, I'm going to lose it. I want a burger."

"Then you know what you have to do, don't you, Kisima. Walk the plank. The whole thing."

Fuck, she was afraid he'd say that. "Whatever you say, Captain Hook."

"Let me see it, big talker," he said with a smirk.

With each step, she showed him. Despite the pain, she pushed further. And with each step she got closer and closer to the thing she shouldn't want. When she reached the end. His lips split into a grin and he picked her up and twirled her around. "That's my girl."

"Screw the compliments, I want my meat, cowboy."

TJ whooped and came over to congratulate her, but she didn't miss Derek's muttered comment. "Be careful what you ask for."

"'Sup, honey bunny? How you holding up?"

Kisima couldn't have held back a smile if she wanted to. There was just something about Leah’s sunny voice that could charm a smile out of a feral raccoon.

"You mean besides being ready to kill my physical therapist? Good. Great. Perfect."

Leah's laugh rang over the phone. "Awesome. Can’t wait to meet him."

"He is a pompous, arrogant, know-it-all who thinks he's God's gift."

"Jesus, Kisima, tell me how you really feel."

"Leah, I know, I can be prickly, but I swear to God he’s deliberately trying to drive me crazy. I mean for starters he fired all the aids Christian and TJ hired for me. Yes, I'm glad not to have them in my face all the time, but for the love of God, I need help
sometimes
. And he's convinced that I'm being lazy and using the chair as an excuse. And then—"

Leah didn't let her finish. "Something tells me you can go on all night about this guy."

She could. "I mean that's just the tip of the iceberg, Leah. He has this way of looking through you, like he sees all the shit you don't want him to. And then he just strolls around here with all that swagger. He's like that guy from high school who was always captain of this and leader of that. This is what happens when those guys grow up, they become this guy." Now she was on a roll. "I mean it's bad enough he knows how good looking he is, but the way he prances around here. Shirtless and shit. I mean, it's like I get it, you have a stupid ten pack. Fine. I don't need to see it all the time. I mean, am I right or am I right?"

There was a beat of silence on the phone before Leah said, "No, you are not right. I mean if there's a nice stomach to be ogled, then I'm here for that."