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and locked the door behind her. “This way.”
    She followed along, lost in the rosy haze of lust, and wondered how people survived days of this. She’d never been one to moan over men in any size or shape, and now all she wanted to do was crawl up his frame.
    Except, as soon as she touched him or he touched her, the situation would all change. There was no way it wouldn’t.
    And that was a sobering thought.
    Cooler and more composed, she walked beside him, happy when he chose to take the stairs. He ran down lightly and she followed. She was in good shape, but she wasn’t fit as in fit fit. She didn’t work out, and she didn’t do any crazy spin classes. She walked a lot and did yoga for stress relief. For some reason, twisting her body into crazy-ass positions always loosened her muscles. Probably because she stretched them past the point they’d normally go, so when she finally released them, they were like rubber and sagged in relief.
    He pushed open the door to a lower level and led the way inside. It was a small but perfectly acceptable space as far as she was concerned. From the disgusted look on his, she figured the amenities were not up to his standards. Then again, a heavy fitness enthusiast probably needed more than the bits and pieces of equipment here. For her, it was fine. There were a few decent-sized mats leaning on one corner. She wouldn’t mind doing a few yoga poses while she was here. She glanced down at her sandals and Capri pants. Not good. She wouldn’t be able to maneuver in these clothes. Why hadn’t she thought to get changed herself?
    Stepping back to give him room, she watched him open the bag he’d brought down with him. There was a tub of chalk in the bag, and with a cloud of dust in the air, he pulled on his gloves.
    He started with a few simple stretches to loosen up. She used the time to walk the room and change her settings for the interior light. There were no natural windows, and from the number of stairs they’d walked down, she had to assume they were below ground level. In spite of its location, the room was bright and open and boasted a full wall of mirrors. She took several pictures and adjusted the settings again. She shifted to a different lens, was unhappy with the results, and switched to another one. Finally satisfied, she turned back to Kane, watching as he performed a series of sit-ups, followed by pushups before locking into a nice, steady plank.
    She might not work out, but she could certainly appreciate the ease and smoothness by which he switched from exercise to exercise. By the time she walked back over, she could see a thin shimmer of sweat on his skin. She immediately lifted her camera and clicked – then again and again. She was lost as she tried to zoom in and capture that sheen to his skin, the effervescent glow that made his muscles shine. She shifted around him, moving carefully as he worked just as hard at what he was doing.
    She hoped she wasn’t disturbing him. He was a serious machine in motion. His gaze was inward, as if working on controlling his breathing and counting his movements. His muscles shifted and rippled as they answered his demands.
    And boy, was he demanding.
    He was doing different reps of different intensities in the floor-exercise portion. She almost laughed. She was good at sitting down and doing reps of eating cupcakes just as seriously. This man was definitely working out!
    She was lost in bemusement as he crunched and lifted and flipped and did it all over again. She was exhausted just watching him.
    Then she watched a bead of sweat roll down his forehead, and she went into action. She stared from where she stood and zoomed in as many stages as she could go, trying to capture that single drop as it stood poised on the pulsating cords lifted along his temple. Then it dropped.
    She couldn’t stop. She moved as close as she dared, clicking away as his jaw twitched and clenched and that chin firmed and the cheekbone locked