Read Online Within This Frame by Lindy Zart - Free Book Online Page A

peacefully slept, oblivious to his surroundings and anyone near. Maggie, on the other hand, spent the night tossing and turning, dreaming of blue eyes and firm lips. When she woke up, memories took place of the dreams—the sweet, masculine scent of his skin, the heat of his body. The strength of his hands when they unconsciously dug into her skin. The night tormented her.
    Lance grabbed an apple from a bowl on the counter and tossed it back and forth between his hands as he talked. “It’s a nice couch, lumps in all the right places.” He sank his teeth into the apple. Frozen, he mouthed around the fruit, “This isn’t a real apple, is it?”
    Maggie snorted and looked away to hide her smile.
    Lance spit out the wax fruit and grabbed a paper towel from the holder and rubbed his mouth. He tossed the paper towel in the garbage and said, “You need real fruit, not fake.”
    “Real is always better than fake,” she agreed, giving him a pointed look.
    “Oh, Maggie,” he purred, moving closer. “Everything about me has always been real.”
    Her breath hiccupped. “Oh, Lance. I know.” She was glad that her voice didn’t shake.
    Time froze, turned heavy as Lance stared at her with enough intensity to tear the air from her lungs. Looking at him made her dizzy, and when he studied her like he was looking into her, seeing through the present and into the past, seeing her in the way only Lance ever could, it made her weak in the knees.
    He narrowed his eyes, and then his expression cleared. “I noticed a bunch of doors. Would any of them happen to lead to spare bedrooms?”
    “Nope.”
    “What are they then?”
    “Doors.”
    “Doors,” he repeated doubtfully.
    “Yep. Just doors. Nothing behind them but walls.”
    “Interesting,” he mused, rubbing his jaw. “Because I opened one, and lo and behold, it led to a room. With a bed.”
    Maggie scowled. “If you make it past two weeks, which I sincerely doubt, then you can pick out a room.”
    Lance offered his hand.
    She gingerly took it.
    “I look forward to it,” he said, shaking her hand.
    Maggie tugged her hand from his, the limb tingling from the feel of his strong, calloused grip.
    “We need to go over some things, like how you should be eating five to six small meals a day. No skipping meals.” The expression on Lance’s face was severe. “We’ll set up a meal plan for you later. First things first, though.” He eyed her critically, lingering a touch too long on her chest before meeting her gaze. “Show me your underwear.”
    She choked on the nut she was in the process of swallowing, coughing as it scraped her throat on the way down. “No,” she rasped.
    Lance shook his head, already heading toward the stairs. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
    She ran after him, not in eagerness to reveal her undergarments, but to keep him away from them. “Don’t you dare go through my dresser drawers!”
    He paused halfway up the stairwell, looking over his broad shoulder at her. “Why would I do that when you’re simply going to show me?”
    She sputtered, charging up the stairs after him with more exuberance than she’d shown in a long time. The bedroom walls were painted lavender and decorated with watercolor artwork that usually had a calming effect. The room seemed to shrink with Lance inside it. He stood near her dresser, eyebrows raised expectantly.
    When she didn’t move any closer, he sighed. Tone blunt, Lance said, “There are key elements to getting healthy—what and how much you eat, of course, and how often you exercise, along with the kind of exercise you’re doing. Getting enough water, and cutting out sugary drinks, is also necessary.
    “What a lot of people don’t realize, is that what you wear while you exercise is just as important. You have to be comfortable, but also have proper support. That thing you’re passing off as a bra needs to be burned.”
    Maggie’s face flamed and she protectively crossed her arms.
    Lance slowly