Teagan debated what to do. Should she go or should she stay?
“You.” Bryson pointed at her. “Sit over there until I can stand again without wanting to drown myself in a bottle of tequila. Then we’ll find out who you are and what you’re doing here.”
He dropped his towel and lay down on the couch, his left leg facing out toward the room. His thighs were just as muscular and beautiful as the rest of him.Wowzah.
The woman that Teagan mentally dubbed “Helga” placed a pad on the floor by the couch and propped her knees on top of it. Strong, man-size hands were stuffed into latex gloves. Then she shoved the side of Bryson’s boxers up his leg and proceeded to squeeze and pummel his hip.
Personally, Teagan wouldn’t have bothered with the gloves.
She tossed her purse onto the other couch and plopped down to enjoy the show. It was over far too soon. She almost groaned in disappointment when Bryson pushed to his feet, then pronounced his cramps gone and thanked the therapist. A few minutes later, Helga had left and Bryson returned from his bedroom in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt.
Since the jeans caressed his muscular thighs and tight rear end and the T-shirt did nothing to hide the perfection of his pecs, Teagan decided that she didn’t mind that he’d put on some clothes. It was a pleasure seeing the perfect male specimen in varying stages of undress. She just wished she could see himcompletelyundressed for a fair comparison.
He limped to her couch, looking just as adorably grumpy as he had when he’d jerked open the front door and complained about her taking so long to get there. Well, complained thatHelgahad taken so long.
“Spill it,” he said. “Mason sent you, didn’t he?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way.”
“How would you put it?”
“I’d say that I went to Mr. Ford and asked if I could hire you. He said he was certain that you’d be interested, but that I’d have to ask you personally. He graciously provided your address and here I am. Technically, I sent myself.” She remained seated on the ultra-plush couch and offered her hand. “Teagan Ray. Nice to meet you.”
He didn’t bother with a handshake. “Bryson Anton. I don’t work for Mason Ford anymore. Get out of my house.”
Chapter Three
“No.”
Bryson stared at the defiant young woman sitting cross-legged on his couch. There was nothing about her sensible flat shoes, her conservative navy blue dress pants and short-sleeved white blouse that buttoned all the way to her neck to indicate that she was a radical militant bent on destroying the rest of his miserable morning. Even her black hair, which appeared to be curly based on the little wisps that framed her face, was mostly tamed in a tight braid that hung down the middle of her back. So why wasn’t she cowed by his sour disposition and gruff commands? And why was she still sitting on his couch?
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me correctly, Ms. Ray.”
“Call me Teagan. I’ll call you Bryson.” She flashed a bright white smile that probably cost her parents a second mortgage.
“Ms. Ray, you may call me Mr. Anton, or the jerk who’s throwing you out of his house. Because that’s exactly what I’m doing. Tossing you out. I didn’t invite you here so—”
“Actually, you did.”
“Excuse me?”
She tapped her temple as if that would explain everything. “I have a photographic memory. I basically see words—”
“I know what a photographic memory is,” he bit out.
“Excellent. It’s good to use terminology we’re both familiar with for the absolute best understanding, with no confusion. A common frame of reference will help us communicate better. Don’t you think?”
“You lost me atno confusion.”
She grinned. She seemed to do that a lot. “Let’s go back to the part where you invited me here.”
“I didn’t invite you.”
“When Mr. Ford told you about me, you told him, ‘You expect me to believe she asked for a washed-up former FBI agent to screw up her case so someone else will die? If she did, send her on over.’” She spread her hands out beside her. “Here I am. Plus you invited me in at the front door. It’s kind of like with vampires, once you let them in, that’s it. You can’t just throw them out.”
“Watch me.” He tossed his cane on the other couch, then scooped her up in his arms.
Her dark brown eyes got so wide he could see the beautiful little golden flecks around the irises.
