by Jessica Gray
Vivian nodded.
“This is ludicrous. You know that, right?”
“Not at all. I’ve got two months to train. And you can’t tell anyone,” she demanded, shaking a finger in his face.
“Crossing my lips and throwing away the key,” he told her, mimicking the actions and then bursting into laughter. Out of all of the Armstrong siblings and cousins, Tyler was the blabbermouth of the bunch. A secret with him could as well be posted on the next billboard.
“Why don’t I run with you?” Tyler offered, sobering for the moment.
Vivian shook her head. “No thanks.” The last thing I need is a witness to my shame. I’ll be lucky to run the first mile without dying, and the schedule says I need to run three.
“Are you sure, sis?”
“Positive. May I leave now, Officer?” Vivian asked.
“Okay, then. If you change your mind in a few days, just let me know. You can always count on me to help. You know that?”
“I do. Thanks, bro. I’ll keep that in mind. Now, if you don’t need anything else, skedaddle so I can get this over with.” Vivian gave him a one-armed hug.
“Sounds like you’re really looking forward to the exercise. Don’t forget to stretch before and after and breathe while you’re running.” Tyler chuckled and turned to leave.
“Ty? Next time ring the bell first, okay?” Her brother lived nearby and she’d given him the keys to her apartment after locking herself out for the second time and having to spend a fortune for a lock and key service.
“Sure thing, Viv,” he said and was gone.
Vivian inhaled deeply and walked the few hundred yards to the same concrete path where she’d crashed into Rock the day before. Rock! Thinking of him caused a surge of adrenaline in her body, just enough to get her running.
She started out slow, but before she’d even completed the first mile, she remembered why she hated running so much. The arch of her foot cramped and every step was killing her. Drenched in sweat, panting like a steam engine, and awful stitches splitting her side, she slowed to a leisurely walk.
“Damn you, Rock! And damn myself for speaking before thinking things through.”
The pain in her side and foot subsided and she begrudgingly took on speed again. Over the course of the next two miles she was at the point of giving up at least a dozen times. But the memory of the arrogant look he’d cast her when he’d suggested she couldn’t handle it, did its job and caused her to continue. Cursing, whining, hating it, but not giving up.
About an hour later she returned home, with the single wish to fall into her bed and die.
She stripped off her clothing as she made her way to the bathroom, putting her phone on a stool besides the tub. Once she was neck-deep in the tub filled with hot water, she closed her eyes and tried to dismiss the fact that Rock expected her to repeat today’s exercise again…and again.
After a while her aching muscles relaxed and some of her anger dissipated. Vivian wiped her hands with a towel and grabbed the phone, pulling up the training regimen. A deep sigh escaped her.
On tomorrow’s schedule, swimming. A sport she enjoyed. Although she suspected Rock’s plan for her included hard work instead of floundering about in the water.
Vivian struggled to make sense of what exactly she was supposed to do, when a new text arrived.
Rock: How’d today’s run go?
Vivian: Just finished. It went great! A little white lie wasn’t any big deal.
Rock: Glad to hear. Was worried about you.
Her heart leapt. He could be so sweet.
Vivian: I’m fine. No need to worry.
Rock: Want 2 use my pool tomorrow?
For a moment Vivian grinned like a fool at the prospect of seeing him. That was until she remembered that she’d decided not to like him. He might be scorching hot, but bossy. And she hated bossy.
Vivian: Sure. I have to work though.
Rock: Come by before work. I have a guest shower.
Vivian wrinkled her nose. Did she really want to go through with this? Stubbornness won out. She’d run that stupid triathlon, even if it was the last thing she’d do in her life.
Rock: Wanna quit on me?
Hell no! She’d show him that she was no quitter.
Vivian: No way. Am having fun. What time? Work at 9.
Rock: Make it seven.
Vivian groaned. Seven? That meant she’d have to get up at five thirty. Quitting just became a lot more attractive.
Vivian: 7 is perfect. See you.
Rock: Get some rest and sweet dreams tonight.
She tossed her phone to the bath mat and leaned back once more. She had no idea what to make of Rock. Sweet one second, arrogant the next.
Chapter 8
Rock slipped his cell phone back into his pocket. This woman had clawed her way into his heart. He liked her sassy responses, her determination and the feisty attitude. He loved her breathtaking smile, her deep blue eyes and that sexy body of hers.
So why was he behaving like a jerk around her? The answer was as obvious as it was painful. Guilt. Anger. Grief.
Rock leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes for a moment. Allowing the memories and all of the emotions they conjured up to overwhelm him. If he were a woman he would at least be able to weep over the loss of his best friend. Tristan.
After the accident when Tristan had lost a leg and an arm, Rock had been so caught up in his own problems, he hadn’t spent enough time with his friend. Hadn’t noticed how Tristan lapsed into depression until it was too late. Tristan’s suicide was branded onto Rock’s soul forever. It was my fault. If I had paid better attention to his needs, he could still be alive... Waves of emotions rocked his body, and many years of unshed tears threatened to choke him.
About a year after Tristan’s death, Rock retired from his athletic career and founded Rock Solid. It was a way to channel the tremendous amount of guilt into something worthwhile. An attempt at redemption.
Most days, he functioned in spite of the heavy burden of guilt. He was a master at keeping an iron control over his emotions, but Vivian had struck a chord. Unknowingly, she’d unearthed the heavy load of guilt he’d been carrying around for years.
Usually, when people asked him about his sudden retirement, he answered with set phrases, carefully crafted by his manager Tommy.
But Vivian was different. She mattered to him. Which had worsened everything. Guilt over not telling her the truth had coupled with guilt over his past and escalated beyond measure. He wished he could tell her – but it simply wasn’t possible.
That’s why he’d brushed her off with arrogance and the hurtful glance in her eyes had slashed him apart. But it was for the best. It would be even better not to see her again, the rational side of his brain reminded him. This woman and you – a catastrophe waiting to happen.
His logic was sound, but his heart hadn’t gotten the message. Deep within, he hoped there would be a chance for them, even without telling her the truth.
Rock wallowed for a moment more, and then reached into his pocket for his phone once more.
“Hello? Rock?” Tommy, his friend and manager answered.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“I’m still…”
“Save it,” Rock said. “I need to get out of the house. Meet me at Barney’s and we’ll grab a beer?”
“Great plan. Thirty minutes enough time?” Tommy was always up for drinks or women.
Rock sighed and answered, “No, probably need to give me forty-five. These crutches are a damn inconvenience.”
“You need a ride?” he asked.
“No, I’ll have my driver come get me.” Rock normally preferred to drive himself, but today he planned to drink way more than he should.
“Okay, if you’re sure. I could come get you...” Tommy offered.
“Nah. See you there.” Rock hung up the phone, then sent a text message to his driver, grinning when the man immediately responded back. This was one
awesome perk of being rich and he’d never tire of it.
Rock arrived at the bar, making his way to the booth in the corner Tommy had already secured for their use.
“Man, I could have just grabbed something from the liquor store and come over to your place,” Tommy said with a nod to Rock’s air cast.
Rock grinned at him as he leaned the crutches against the table. “You could have, but that wouldn’t have served the purpose of getting me out of the house.”
“So, how did your first training session with your attacker go?” Tommy teased.
Rock gave him a warning look and shook his head. Tommy held up his hands in surrender and helped Rock to get seated at the table where two beers waited on their owners.
“I ordered beer for us. Hope that was okay,” Tommy said.
“Sure.” Rock gulped down the entire glass, the cold golden liquid running down his throat. He welcomed the burn as the alcohol started to melt away his upset. “Ahhh! I needed that.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and signaled the waiter to bring another two beers before he turned to Tommy. “Tell me about the fundraiser.”
“I made some phone calls and I’ve come up with a short list of four actresses that are willing to do this…”
Rock shook his head, annoyed. “I already told you …”
“Yeah, yeah. You told me, but you can’t stick your head in the sand on this one. You need a big name to cover for the fact that you aren’t in your own race anymore. Hear me out. One of the agents came up with a splendid idea. Instead of only having the woman as your star attraction, you go out with her a few times, letting everyone believe you’re a pair…and boom! Both your popularities will fly off the charts.”
“No way!” Rock’s stomach churned. His annoyance grew as Tommy continued to outline his reasons for trying to pair him up with another actress. Did he really have to stoop that low and sell out his inner convictions to raise the money for his foundation? Fake a relationship with someone he didn’t even know? God, no!
Tommy stopped talking, realizing that Rock wasn’t on board and leveled a look at him. “You know I’m right. The only way to make sure the charity run is successful, is to secure the participation of someone the media can latch onto.”
“I know.” Rock sighed and took a big gulp of the beer that had been delivered a few moments earlier. The bitter taste of hops couldn’t flush down the staleness Tommy’s suggestion had left in his mouth. His friend was right about the publicity, but that didn’t make the plan more attractive.
“Okay, she can race, but I’m not pretending I like that actress,” Rock growled. It was bad enough that he’d be forced to schmooze this yet to be named actress the day of the race, but he wouldn’t go out with her. Not when the only woman he was interested in was Vivian.
“You like this girl.” Tommy smirked.
Rock ignored him, but Tommy was like a dog with a bone. “Don’t tell me you’re falling for this Vivian, are you?”
“None of your business.” Rock ordered another beer.
Tommy didn’t pursue the topic and instead pulled his phone from his pocket, swiping his thumb across the screen. “These are the headshots of the women considered.”
Rock dutifully looked at the pictures, all of the women stunning and gazing sexily into the lens of the camera.
“Don’t like them,” he said, almost snorting beer up his nose.
“You don’t have to like them. This is business, remember?” Tommy insisted. “Just tell me which one you prefer and I’ll do the rest.”
Rock looked over the pictures once more, finally tapping the screen where a cute blonde flashed a smile. “That one. If I have to do this, get her.”
“Good choice. Carla Dawson. She just came through rehab, after a short stint, and her career could use a boost. She could be a great example of a second chance. It fits with the theme of the foundation.”
Rock listened half-heartedly. The young woman had hit Hollywood like a tsunami several years earlier, but the pressure and variety of distractions had gotten the best of her, and she’d spiraled downwards with drugs. After getting wasted once too often shooting her second blockbuster movie, she’d agreed to go into a rehab facility. She was out now, but her career was on the rocks.
His mind flashed back to Tristan, who had committed suicide because nobody recognized how depressed he’d become after the accident. Had Carla Dawson been in a similar situation?
“Fine. Get her and I’ll play nice in the sandbox,” Rock agreed.
“I knew you’d see things my way.“ Tommy chuckled and finished his drink.
The actress paled in comparison to Vivian’s natural beauty – and determination. She was as far from being shallow as one could be, and boring definitely wasn’t a word he would ever use to describe her. Combine that with her smoking hot body and the quick wit she’d shown him, and every cell in his body yearned to see her again.
That woman had tied him in knots without even trying.
Chapter 9
After a fairly sleepless night, Vivian arrived at Rock’s house to make use of his swimming pool. She’d been on the verge of making a U-turn and bail about a dozen times, but she’d rationalized that it was him who’d made up the training regimen and it was nothing but business. He didn’t have to offer his pool if he hadn’t wanted to.
That exact idea caused her to shiver. He might have brushed her off with his arrogant remarks, but she wasn’t a fool and she’d seen the blank desire in his eyes. If he unleashed that restrained passion on her…more shivers racked her body. It was a terrifying thought. But what was more terrifying was the way her body reacted to him. She’d been wet for him even while she cursed him.
Vivian parked in the driveway and rang the bell. A woman in her forties opened the door and smiled at her.
“Hello, is Rock home? He’s expecting me.”
“You must be Miss Armstrong. Mr. Martens told me you’d be using the pool this morning. I’m very sorry but he’s not up yet, but please come in and I’ll show you to the pool house. Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you. Are you sure this is okay? Maybe I should come back later…” Vivian said, hesitating.
“Nonsense. Mr. Rock offered you the pool for your training and I’m sure he’ll put in an appearance sometime before you are ready to leave. If not, please come to the kitchen – that’s where I’ll be.”
Vivian smiled at the friendly woman and nodded saying, “I’ll do that.”
“Good. Enjoy your morning swim.” The housekeeper bustled off, leaving Vivian alone in the massive pool house. She slipped her t-shirt and denim shorts off, setting them on a nearby lounger, along with her car keys and towel. Beneath she wore the only one-piece bathing suit she owned, a black number that was cut high above her hip bones, and dipped low in the back, but it would resist a starting dive from the block and rigorous swimming.
Sighing, she took a shower and then jumped right into the pool, marveling at the soft and cool water flowing around her body. Swimming was the next best thing to zero gravity. She floated on her back, closing her eyes to the warming rays of sunshine, until she finally turned over and crawled.
Three arm strokes, breathe, another three strokes, breathe…until she’d reached the other end. Her mind wandered as she kept the leisurely pace lap after lap. This part of the training actually proved to be fun.
Vivian neither worried about the upcoming race, nor the work waiting for her. She floated completely careless along the surface of the pool, sensing peace and freedom. Life’s good!
Then she glimpsed a shadow at the edge of the pool and turned on her back to see Rock standing there, staring at her with unconcealed lust in his eyes. Suddenly her heart thumped in her throat and she was burning up. Not even the cool water dampened her arousal.
Peace and freedom were fleeting away. Unsure what was expected of her, she swam to the ladder and exited the water.
Rock’s piercing gaze raked over her body, leaving a
hot trail in his path as if he’d actually touched her. The heat in her body intensified and she reached for the safety of her oversized towel, wrapping her entire body in the plush material, before she dared to face him. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she wondered if he liked what he saw.
“Good morning, mermaid.” Rock’s disarming smile didn’t do anything to calm her nerves. She hadn’t felt as stupid and gauche since her early teen years.
“Hi,” she whispered, her eyes cast to the ground until she finally swallowed back her nerves and found the courage to meet his gaze. A charge of electricity surged through her.
Rock’s smile broadened and his eyes darkened with desire. They stood in front of each other for a few minutes, neither of them able to speak or move, until he broke the silence.
“Your swimming isn’t bad. Want me to give you a few hints?” he asked, the lustful look in his eyes slowly fading as he focused on her technique.
“I guess so.”
“You need to lengthen your body along the surface of the water and stretch your arms out to their full length when reaching forward. This will help propel you across the water faster and with less effort.” He grabbed his crutches with one hand and showed her with the other one what he meant.
Hot desire flooded her body. With one simple movement, he’d grown at least two inches and his impressive pectorals jumped beneath the blue T-shirt he wore. Her eyes followed the path of his arm all the way up into the sky and back down along his front in a perfect s-shape.
“S…tretch my arms all the way out…I can do that,” she stammered like a babbling idiot. The sexual chemistry bubbling up had transformed her brain cells into mush.
“Give it a try,” he challenged her, raising one brow sardonically at her obvious lack of intelligence.
Vivian dropped the towel and slipped back into the water. She implemented his suggestions, amazed at how little effort she needed to glide through the water. Grateful for his assistance, she swam several more laps, increasing her speed with each one.
***
Rock had woken from a slumber filled with erotic dreams about Vivian after sleeping longer than usual. His taut body was still on edge, yearning for release, and observing her clad in that black swimming suit hadn’t done anything to relieve the tension.