Free Quinn's Woman by Susan Mallery Page B

she worked? Travis or Kyle, she told herself. They knew where her office was located, and they were Quinn’s new family.

    “I have a weight room in the back of the office,” she said as they jogged under several trees. “We can finish up there.”

    “Great.” He shot her a grin and picked up the pace. “Six miles okay by you?”

    Six miles? At nearly a run? “Not a problem.”

    They arrived back at her office in less time than she would have thought possible. D.J. considered herself fit and athletic, but Quinn had continued increasing the speed of their run until she’d been gasping for breath. But she’d kept up and she hadn’t complained.

    After unlocking the front door, she walked into the empty front office. Her part-time help didn’t start until after lunch.

    She’d left a six-pack of bottled water on the reception desk. After tossing a bottle to Quinn, she took one for herself and downed about a third of it. She wanted more, but knew she had to wait and let her body cool down a little.

    Sweat dripped off her. She’d pulled her hair back into a French braid that morning and the long end was plastered against her T-shirt. She felt hot, flushed and in desperate need of a shower. But there was still part two of the tryout.

    “The weight room is back this way,” she said, careful to speak slowly so she didn’t gasp the words.

    By contrast Quinn was breathing evenly, as if the run hadn’t winded him at all. He was sweating, but not in any distress. He sipped his water.

    She led the way down the short hallway to the big open back room. When she’d rented the office, she’d specifically looked for a location that had space for a workout room. There were mirrors along the rear wall. Weight equipment lined the right side of the room, while thick floor mats defined a sparring area on the left.

    D.J. finished her water and tossed the empty plastic bottle into a green bin marked Recycling then faced Quinn.

    “Let’s do it,” she said.

    His eyebrows rose. “Why don’t you take me through your regular routine?”

    She preferred to work out alone, but this wasn’t about what she liked. She had to make a point.

    She grabbed twenty-pound free weights and started with walking lunges. From there she headed to the machines. Quinn didn’t say anything as she went through several exercises, although she could feel him watching her. His silent attention started to get irritating, but it was his physical strength that made her uneasy as he started to work out with her. He could leg press seventy pounds more than she could. After she used a set of weights, he picked them up in one hand as if they weighed nothing. When she went to the barbell for chest presses, adding on enough weight to make her shake through the last set, he stood by her head and spotted her. After she finished, he casually picked up the equipment and slipped it back into place without breathing hard.

    Pausing to wipe sweat from her face and neck, she studied him in the mirror. On the run, she’d been too busy trying to keep up to really catalogue the powerful muscles ripping through his body. Now she could see the definition and thickness of his chest and the strength in his legs. He wasn’t cut like a gym jockey. Instead his muscles had a purpose. He was the kind of man who knew how to make his living the hard way.

    He scared the hell out of her.

    D.J. swallowed the fear and kept herself focused through her tricep presses, then leaned back on the bench and exhaled.

    “That’s it,” she said, wondering if she had the strength to stand. Her bones felt as if they’d turned to putty. Her muscles were as resistant as cooked pasta.

    “Not bad,” he said, holding out his hand.

    She glanced from it to his face, then back. She understood the gesture. He was offering to help her to her feet. The logical, rational part of her brain said to save her own strength and accept the assistance. The less-in-control side of her psyche warned