Read Online The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots by Loretta Hill - Free Book Online

to walk over to the other side of the skid. She watched his back in frustration as he leaned over the railing, yelling more orders to the guys below.
    She’d been dismissed. Fully and utterly dismissed.
    And she had no way to regain ground. Lena didn’t have any tips to make him more efficient. She was hoping they’d be able to come up with something together. But there was no way she was going to beg for an alliance. That would be tantamount to admitting everything he thought about her was true.
    You’re going to prove him wrong if it kills you.
    All she needed was some time to regroup.
    That evening, Lena was dying to get to the gym to do just that. Maybe sweating out her anger would make room for ideas. She needed a plan or a miracle to make Mike cooperate. As the former was more accessible than the latter, she knew she’d better get on the treadmill and hope that something came to her. It was unfortunate that when she finally entered her sanctuary, it was contaminated.
    Dan Hullog was on the treadmill.
    She stopped just short of the door, the hairs on the back of her neck rising like porcupine spikes.
    Perfect.
    She toyed briefly with the idea of leaving and then his gaze flicked upwards and their eyes met in the mirror on the wall in front of him. His were cool and knowing. Dignity now dictated that she stayed.
    She walked over to the bicep-building machine and perched on its worn vinyl seat. Dan went back to ignoring her. Despite her resolve to do the same, her eyes were continually drawn to his solid male back. Perhaps it was because he didn’t look like a client in gym shorts and a sweat-soaked tank top.
    Muscled shoulders. Generous biceps. Powerful calves.
    She swallowed with difficulty as his masculinity hit her like a smack in the face.
    Now more than ever, Bulldog seemed an apt name for him.
    Suddenly the treadmill beeped and slowed. She tore her eyes away, pumping her weights unnaturally fast till a spasm in her right arm told her to stop. Lena released the weights as heat that wasn’t from the work-out crept into her face. Had he seen her checking him out? She gave herself a mental slap.
    You’d think after everything that had happened at university she’d have a mental circuit-breaker that got thrown whenever she was attracted to the wrong kind of man. Apparently not. She steeled herself. Crushing on the client was not an option.
    She confined her gaze to the floor as she tried to slow her racing heart.
    A pair of old white sneakers entered her field of vision.
    Oh crap.
    Was he going to say something about it? Her fingers trembled. She raised her eyes to his and took in their colour for the first time – a deep ocean blue.
    ‘Carl told me he put you on the skid frame.’
    Lena breathed again. ‘Yes, that’s right.’ She nodded, searching his face and finding it unreadable. So now he knew she wasan engineer. Maybe he had approached her to apologise for his behaviour on the wharf. Her heart buoyed. That would be it.
    ‘You need to go faster.’
    Maybe not.
    ‘I beg your pardon?’
    ‘You’re too slow.’
    Lena was confused. ‘On the bicep curl?’
    ‘No,’ he said impatiently, flipping a white towel across one broad shoulder. ‘On the skid frame.’
    ‘Oh.’ She couldn’t believe it. He was telling her off again. She shouldn’t have expected any differently. Although at this rate, she’d rather he’d caught her checking him out.
    ‘You’re ten per cent behind schedule.’
    ‘I see.’ Her mind did backflips as she tried to recall whether Carl had said anything about how much she was supposed to get done per day. Her mental database came up blank.
    ‘At the pace you’re going,’ Bulldog continued, ‘we’ll be here till next Christmas.’
    She bit her lip. Bloody Mike: she’d bet her left arm he’d known this. He’d be loving her humiliation now if he could see it.
    ‘Did you hear what I said?’ The Tone was blaring in his voice: Lena couldn’t help but snap back at