“Not sweat, per se, but you certainly are.”
A girlish grin exploded onto her lips, a smile so wide it made her jaw ache. “I thought Stiletto Aerobics was hard, but it’s a piece of cake compared to this.”
“Stiletto Aerobics? Sounds erotic. How about a demonstration after lunch?”
To her surprise, his words excited her, turned her on. Her breasts ached for his touch, her nipples hardened under her long-sleeve shirt and a delicious shudder ripped through her body. Sharleen wanted to pounce on him, to kiss him shamelessly, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to devour him. “Emilio, you don’t have to cook for me every time I come over.”
“Yes, I do. The quickest way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach, and I’m hoping you’ll profess your undying love after you taste my lobster risotto.”
“My, my, aren’t we ambitious.”
“Well, I did win three World Series Racing championships.”
“Relationships aren’t a competitive sport.”
“Tell that to my ex-girlfriend.” His smile disappeared. “She loved playing mind games, and I never knew where I stood with her...”
I’d never treat you like that, Sharleen thought, gazing at his handsome profile. If you were my man I’d be open and honest, and I’d tell you I love you every single day.
“Most of the women I hooked up with in the past were more interested in the glamorous lifestyle than me, but I was too busy blowing through my earnings to care,” he confessed. “But at this point in my life, I’m ready to have a family and kids, and I won’t settle for less.”
I’d love to have your babies. The thought shocked Sharleen, and for the second time in minutes, goose bumps pricked her skin.
They jogged through the neighborhood, along the lake and past the park. Jokes flew, laughter abounded and their conversation flowed smoothly from one topic to the next. Sharleen coached other celebrities, but no one made her laugh like Emilio. He had great stories, and his dry wit made her crack up time and time again. She’d probably never go zip-lining in Costa Rica, or paragliding in Tanzania, but she enjoyed hearing about his adventures abroad. Two hours passed, but she was having so much fun with Emilio that she didn’t want to go home. “Where do you go when you want to get away from everything?” she asked. “Venice? Sydney? Maui?”
“No, Monte Carlo. Have you ever been?”
Sharleen shook her head. “No, never, but I’d love to visit there one day.”
“When you’re ready to make the trip, we’ll fly there in the Morretti private jet.”
“What’s so special about Monte Carlo?”
“They call it the playground of the rich, but there’s more to the city than just fast cars, fine dining and million-dollar yachts. I love the museums, the striking architecture and the extreme sports, of course.”
“You won your first World Series Racing championship in Monte Carlo.”
Emilio wore a sheepish smile. “You read my bio.”
“A good life coach always does.”
The estate came into view, and Sharleen sighed in relief.
“Do you want to take a break, or would you like to keep going?”
“No way. I’m exhausted, and my legs are killing me. I may pass out right here!”
He stopped abruptly. His gaze was full of longing, and his mouth was just inches away from her face. “What can I do to help?”
You mean besides kissing me passionately?
The air around them was electrified, charged with sexual tension. Sharleen had never had such strong feelings for someone and wondered how much longer she could fight their attraction. These days, Emilio was all she could think of. It didn’t matter if she was job hunting with Jocelyn or puttering around in her garden—thoughts of him overwhelmed her mind. Emilio proved that nice guys still existed, that all men weren’t dogs, and she loved being with him.
“I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?” Emilio said.
He reached out and brushed his fingers ever so gently against her cheeks. Pleasure shot straight to her core, tickled and teased her flesh.
“Do you want me to carry you back to my estate?”
“Let’s not and say we did,” she said with a laugh. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a curvy woman, not a toothpick, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
His stare was bold, penetrating. Emilio didn’t speak, didn’t utter a word, but if looks could kill she’d be six feet under. Sharleen gulped. What did I do wrong? Why is he mad at me?
The tense moment lasted for only a few seconds, but it felt as if hours had passed.