“Safety.”
Unfamiliar with the term, and feeling anything but safe in his presence with the way those wolf-like eyes follow me, I lift my eyebrow. “Please, explain that to me.”
He leans his forearms on the table and folds his hands like he could talk about football all day. Perhaps that will be my strategy. “I run the defense and lead the team in tackles. In other words, no one gets by me.”
“Interesting.”
“Are you a football fan? Usually, women are more interested in the players than the game.”
“A fan? Not in the slightest.”
“How honest of you.”
“Always. Dishonesty is for weak minds.”
“What about white lies?”
“There’s a difference between being insulting and being straightforward.”
“Seems like a fine line.”
“The finest.” I pinch my fingers together. “But when done properly and with grace, the truth is the kindest gift you can offer someone. It frees them from enslavement to falsehoods.”
The space between his eyebrows pinches like he needs to think about that concept. Not to worry, I will be demonstrating it throughout our time together.
My gaze slides across him, not sure where to pause—his penetrating eyes, quizzical lips, the dreadfully long hair, or beastly beard?
“Like what you see?” he asks.
I hardly stifle a huff. “No, but I invite you to change my mind.”
“It would be my pleasure. By the way, will I still be able to do my workouts while I’m here?” he asks.
At that, my gaze lands on his massive arm muscles, prominently displayed in his fitted black T-shirt. They’re chiseled and rock-hard. I press my lips together to keep my mouth from betraying me.
Yes, a man of his stature will look mighty fine in a tuxedo.
Connor snaps his fingers. “Ah ha. Did I just discover your kryptonite?”
I almost gasp. “My what?”
He points like he caught a bandit. “You know, Superman, kryptonite. Yours is man muscle. You were admiring me.”
I cannot tell a lie, so I remain quiet enough to practically hear the gears turning in Connor’s mind. He’s going to maximize his assets and use them against me.
“To answer your question, yes, you will still conduct your workouts.” My voice a little husky, I clear my throat. “Typically, we will have lessons in the morning and workouts later in the afternoon. Coach Hammer arranged for the premier trainer in the country to meet with you.”
“I expect you’ll be observing my workouts and taking notes, professor?” Dragging his tongue across his teeth, he wears that wolfish grin again.
I may not be familiar with Superman, but I am no Little Red Riding Hood and will not let myself be fooled by this Big Bad Wolf.
9
CONNOR
Ihalf expect Cateline—the way she said it made it sound like a combination of Catelyn and Catherine—to be weak in the knees when she rises from the chair in the meeting room.
Nope. She’s rock solid on a pair of toned legs. I get a little peek when the slit that runs up the back of her skirt to just above her knees shifts as she moves.
