Three Marie Ferrarella Romances Box Set One by Marie Ferrarella Read Free Book Online Page A

free young damsels in distress, I’ll move on to other parts. Right now, I’m having a ball. It’s nice being paid for being a hero.”
    “Nice work if you can get it,” Shane conceded, smiling. “Okay, now what?”
    “Now I take you to my chamber of horrors,” he told her glibly.
    “Would you care to be a little more specific?” she prodded as he took her hand and led her from the terrace.
    “I have a gym on the first floor,” he clarified. “I try to work out at least a little each day. Pectoral muscles tend to disappear if you give in to a life of ease,” he said, flexing his chest to emphasize his point. It looked rock-hard to her. “The studio heads would be very disappointed with a flabby hero,” he added with a grin. “C’mon, you can watch.”
    If someone had asked Shane a week ago to name five activities that would have bored her to tears, she would have put watching someone work out at the top of the list. Yet here she was, actually looking forward to seeing Nick go through his paces. She wasn’t sure just what to expect. In a vague way she pictured some grunting and groaning, lots of sweating and clanging metal, yet there was still something about seeing that well-constructed body being honed to even further perfection that excited her.
    Nick went to change, and she was alone in the large room, alone with mysterious tangles of machinery that were guaranteed to insure a good, professional workout. They all looked like instruments of torture to her. She ran her hand across one of the machines—how cold it was to the touch. The room was well lit, and three walls were mirrored floor to ceiling.
    “Must like to see himself get sweaty,” Shane said under her breath as she walked over the padded floor. An amused smile flitted over her face at the thought of the mirrors serving to highlight another activity. The floor was certainly comfortable enough for it.
    What was wrong with her? Ever since she had set eyes on Nick, her mind kept drifting to intimate subjects. The next thing she knew, she’d be indulging in wild fantasies involving the man. She had always prided herself on being different. Mooning over Nick Rutledge, she told herself sternly, was definitely not different.
    Shane was leaning forward against the ballet barre along the wall and trying to recall stretching exercises that had been part of her life when she was a teenager, when Nick entered the room. She caught his reflection first. Involuntarily, she sucked in her breath. He was wearing a net T-shirt with blue piping running along the armholes, and matching blue shorts. Some sort of sports shoes were on his feet, but who was looking at his feet? The rest of him was too magnificent for her to think of paying much attention to anything below his ankles. Shane couldn’t understand why he thought he needed to exercise. Why tamper with perfection?
    Slowly she turned around, trying not to be obvious as she appreciatively drank in his form. She was staring, looking for a flaw, a scar, something that would render this superb man more human. She failed.
    “Have you ever thought of doing a remake of Tarzan?” she asked in an awed voice before her conscious mind could stop her.
    The grin on his face took him down from Mount Olympus and into the realm of a devilish rogue, more human, true, but far more dangerous. “Tarzan’s lines aren’t romantic—but his moves are,” Nick responded, his eyes petting her from across the room. “How would you like to play Jane?”
    “I’m not good at climbing trees.”
    “Trees wouldn’t be what you’d be climbing.”
    A hot blush blazed in her cheeks. “Um, what’s this thing?” she asked quickly, turning away from him and pointing out a large piece of machinery.
    Obligingly, Nick looked over to where she was pointing. “That’s used to do arm curls without injuring the elbows. Mustn’t damage the merchandise,” he told her coyly.
    “Is that how you see yourself?” she asked. “As