The Heartbroker by Kate O'Keeffe Read Free Book Online Page A

an imposing hotel on the lakefront where we will be both staying and holding the seminar.
    I check into my room with its view of the calm, cool waters of the lake, and decide to settle my thoughts with a run. Running has always been my haven. It keeps me in shape, gives me time to think, and helps me stay calm throughout the day. I’m uptight if I miss my daily run, and try at all costs to get one in, even at my busiest times. I guess you could say I’m a run-aholic, needing my fix. And today is no exception.
    Before even unpacking, I throw my running gear on, sweep my hair up into a ponytail, and head out the door.
    Once outside I decide to turn away from the township, running along the road next to the lake. Despite the cold, the air is so crisp and clean and I want to stay out in it all day. I take one of the roads winding up the hill away from the lake. After running uphill for some time I stop to catch my breath and take in the view. The lake and surrounding mountains are bathed in the midday Spring sun and I take a moment to take a deep breath, appreciating Mother Nature’s handiwork.
    When I reach the hotel I’m hot and sweaty and in desperate need of a shower. I spy the sign for the hotel pool. A dip would be bliss right now. I decide to check it out on the off chance no one is around.
    As luck would have it, the pool is deserted. Making a quick check around I strip off to my sports bra and cotton panties, loosen my hair, and dive in. The water is refreshing against my skin, cooling my exercised-induced flushed cheeks as I swim a couple of lengths before languishing in the cool water.
    Despite my best efforts, my mind wanders to Logan. I find myself sighing as I think of him. Oh yes, he’s definitely that kind of man: the kind women sigh over.
    I try to snap myself out of it by reminding myself his attractiveness is merely an annoyance, one I can handle with ease. He’ll be gone soon and I doubt I’ll ever have to see him again.
    Just get through the next few days, Brooke, that’s all you have to do.
    I duck my head under the water and swim across to the edge of the pool. As I climb up the steps I spot a pile of complimentary towels at the cabana.
    I freeze as I hear a door close behind me.
    Busted.
    I swivel around, my embarrassment rising as I glance down my dripping wet body. What felt like acceptable attire when I was alone a few short moments ago, now suddenly feels completely un acceptable.
    I decide to fake it and plaster a confident smile across my face as I turn to face my fellow swimmer.
    Oh. My. Freaking. God. No no no no no. It can’t be him.
    “Brooke? Is that you?” Logan asks, sauntering towards me.
    Rooted to the spot, I watch with growing mortification as his gaze sweeps my body, finally resting on my face. A smile teases at the corners of his mouth.
    He’s wearing swimming trunks and a white T-shirt, snug over his toned chest, a towel tucked under his arm. He’s standing by my side in a few quick strides.
    Why does it have to be Logan McManus? Why? Anyone but him!
    I’m acutely aware I’m soaking wet, dressed only in a sports bra and undies. And they’re white.
    I’m practically naked in front of this man. The almost transparent material clinging to my body leaves little to the imagination.
    It’s like a scene from a tacky soft porn movie. In a moment Logan will come out with some cheesy line as he rips off his T-shirt and I’ll fall into his arms in a sexy embrace . . . Or not. Sexy is the very last thing I’m feeling right now.
    More like humiliated. Deeply, deeply humiliated.
    I struggle to take in enough oxygen.
    My eyes dart to the towels mere metres away. I decide to lunge for one in order to preserve what little dignity I still have, then turn to face him. I plaster a look of bravado on my face.
    “Logan.” I force a smile and ignore the acrobats doing energetic flips in my belly. “How nice to see you.”
    “Great to see you too, Brooke,” he replies in his low,