pictures.”
“You are never moving in with me.” He felt his private parts boo at him, but he shook his head, refusing to imagine her in his home. Naked. Taking a shower …
He increased the intensity another couple ticks.
She slowed down even more. “I was photographing a Maasai warrior in Kenya for National Geographic once, and he told me he could run all day carrying me on his shoulders.”
Because she probably weighed as much as a feather. But he wanted to get rid of her, so he said, “You must have gained weight since.”
She snorted. “Nice try, MacNiven.”
The running was killing him. He wanted to go down to a walk again, but he didn’t want to show weakness in front of the photographer. He gritted his teeth and ran grimly, wishing she’d go.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
He glared at her. “Getting there.”
“It must be difficult, going from your prime to needing rehab.”
It was the worst sort of hell he’d never even imagined.
“I read about the accident,” she continued. “But I guess everyone has.”
He grunted.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“It must be especially hard since the accident wasn’t your fault.”
He stabbed at the button until the treadmill slowed to a brisk walk. “You don’t understand the meaning of ‘no’ do you?”
“I told you it wasn’t in my vocabulary.” She hopped off the treadmill and stretched her legs. “What’s your plan?”
Not to keel over, he thought as he stopped the treadmill completely. He picked up a towel and water bottle, drinking to cover up the fact that he waited to see if his knee would buckle.
“I suppose the easy answer is you want to play again,” she said. “But nothing’s easy.”
He glanced at her. “Is that a warning or a challenge?”
“A fact.” She smirked at him.
He wanted to kiss that smirking mouth so badly it startled him. In his previous life, he’d have sauntered over, hauled her over his shoulder, and taken her to his bed. Now, after limping over, his leg would probably collapse even under her feather weight.
Besides, he didn’t want to encourage her. He didn’t want to give her what she wanted. The best thing he could do was to scare her away.
The way she downplayed her looks, she probably hated getting hit on. So he sneered at her and said, “Why don’t we get to why you’re really here?”
She turned and gave him an imperious look. “Great idea.”
He walked over to her, slowly, trying not to limp. Standing close, he lowered his lids and gave her a look guaranteed to earn him a slap across the face. “You want me.”
She shook her head. “I want your pictures.”
“You want my body, naked, on top of yours.”
“Your recovery is going to be easier than I am, MacNiven.”
He trailed a finger over her collarbone, trying not to get distracted himself. “I bet I could make you easy.”
She pushed his hand away. “You’re not going to intimidate me into leaving.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to leave.”
“Then you’d be lying to both of us.” She patted his chest before turning around to pick up her camera bag.
He blinked. She was leaving? Just like that?
At the doorway, she turned around. “Rowdy gave me your door code.”
“What?”
She nodded. “For expediency.”
He was going to expedite his friend to an early grave.
“Do you walk around naked?” she asked.
He pictured her naked again, walking around like a glorious sun goddess in this godforsaken shrine of a condo.
But he reminded himself he wanted her to leave, so he inched closer to her as sleazily as he could. “Do you want me to walk around naked?”
“Not unless you let me take your picture.” She arched her brow. “Tempting now, isn’t it?”
“Not at all,” he lied.
She winked knowingly at him. “See you around, MacNiven.”
Chapter Seven
Instead of going home after closing, Niamh turned up the music and set the loan application on the counter to fill out. She’d just
“You are never moving in with me.” He felt his private parts boo at him, but he shook his head, refusing to imagine her in his home. Naked. Taking a shower …
He increased the intensity another couple ticks.
She slowed down even more. “I was photographing a Maasai warrior in Kenya for National Geographic once, and he told me he could run all day carrying me on his shoulders.”
Because she probably weighed as much as a feather. But he wanted to get rid of her, so he said, “You must have gained weight since.”
She snorted. “Nice try, MacNiven.”
The running was killing him. He wanted to go down to a walk again, but he didn’t want to show weakness in front of the photographer. He gritted his teeth and ran grimly, wishing she’d go.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
He glared at her. “Getting there.”
“It must be difficult, going from your prime to needing rehab.”
It was the worst sort of hell he’d never even imagined.
“I read about the accident,” she continued. “But I guess everyone has.”
He grunted.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“It must be especially hard since the accident wasn’t your fault.”
He stabbed at the button until the treadmill slowed to a brisk walk. “You don’t understand the meaning of ‘no’ do you?”
“I told you it wasn’t in my vocabulary.” She hopped off the treadmill and stretched her legs. “What’s your plan?”
Not to keel over, he thought as he stopped the treadmill completely. He picked up a towel and water bottle, drinking to cover up the fact that he waited to see if his knee would buckle.
“I suppose the easy answer is you want to play again,” she said. “But nothing’s easy.”
He glanced at her. “Is that a warning or a challenge?”
“A fact.” She smirked at him.
He wanted to kiss that smirking mouth so badly it startled him. In his previous life, he’d have sauntered over, hauled her over his shoulder, and taken her to his bed. Now, after limping over, his leg would probably collapse even under her feather weight.
Besides, he didn’t want to encourage her. He didn’t want to give her what she wanted. The best thing he could do was to scare her away.
The way she downplayed her looks, she probably hated getting hit on. So he sneered at her and said, “Why don’t we get to why you’re really here?”
She turned and gave him an imperious look. “Great idea.”
He walked over to her, slowly, trying not to limp. Standing close, he lowered his lids and gave her a look guaranteed to earn him a slap across the face. “You want me.”
She shook her head. “I want your pictures.”
“You want my body, naked, on top of yours.”
“Your recovery is going to be easier than I am, MacNiven.”
He trailed a finger over her collarbone, trying not to get distracted himself. “I bet I could make you easy.”
She pushed his hand away. “You’re not going to intimidate me into leaving.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to leave.”
“Then you’d be lying to both of us.” She patted his chest before turning around to pick up her camera bag.
He blinked. She was leaving? Just like that?
At the doorway, she turned around. “Rowdy gave me your door code.”
“What?”
She nodded. “For expediency.”
He was going to expedite his friend to an early grave.
“Do you walk around naked?” she asked.
He pictured her naked again, walking around like a glorious sun goddess in this godforsaken shrine of a condo.
But he reminded himself he wanted her to leave, so he inched closer to her as sleazily as he could. “Do you want me to walk around naked?”
“Not unless you let me take your picture.” She arched her brow. “Tempting now, isn’t it?”
“Not at all,” he lied.
She winked knowingly at him. “See you around, MacNiven.”
Chapter Seven
Instead of going home after closing, Niamh turned up the music and set the loan application on the counter to fill out. She’d just
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