What the Prince Wants

The full view of his tattoo caught her attention. A dragon started over one shoulder blade, swirled down one biceps and disappeared over his shoulder to the front. Her fingers itched to trace the pattern, to feel all that taut skin beneath her fingertips. Surely there was some meaning behind the image. Most people had tattoos based on something personal in their lives. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever uncover anything beneath the surface with him.

Just as Darcy eased the door open, Colin stumbled, shouted a curse and smacked the red emergency button on the treadmill. Gripping the sides of the machine, he panted, head hanging between his shoulders.

“Are you all right?” she asked, crossing to the piece of equipment in case he needed help.

Colin jerked his head around, wincing as he caught sight of her. “I thought you’d be longer with putting Iris down.”

As he turned completely and started to step down, his leg went out from under him and he collapsed, landing hard on the belt of the machine.

Darcy squatted beside him, her hands resting on his bare knee. “Colin, are you okay?” she repeated.

Stupid question, as he’d obviously hurt himself and was trying to hide the fact. Still, she couldn’t just stand here and not do or say something.

“Fine,” he bit out through gritted teeth. “I’m supposed to walk every day, but the doctor says if I feel like it I can try jogging.”

“Is that why you were running full speed on an incline when I came in?”

His eyes met hers. There went that click once again when this man stared at her. The intensity of his gaze couldn’t even be put into words because she’d never experienced such a force in her life.

“I’m not going to be held prisoner by this injury.” His tone left no room for argument. “And I don’t want your pity.”

Colin’s eyes held hers another second before they dropped to her hands on his knee. The dark hair on his leg slid beneath her palms as she started to remove her hands. Instantly, his hand covered hers, holding her in place.

“I wasn’t feeling pity,” she whispered. “Attracted, intrigued, yes. Not pity.”

His thumb stroked the back of her hand. “This can’t be an issue.”

She knew he wasn’t referring to his injury or the fact that she’d found him in a state of pain.

“It’s already an issue,” she retorted, not even trying to pretend she had no idea what he was referring to. “We just have to take control of the tension instead of it controlling us.”

His eyes held hers, the muscle ticked in his jaw. “Are you ready to get sweaty?”

Darcy swallowed, then took her own advice and tried to get a grip. Offering a smile, she said, “If you’re trying to keep this attraction on the backburner, I think you probably shouldn’t ask questions like that.”

Laughing, Colin started to rise. “Just wanted to see the look on your face.”

The man actually laughed. And there went that zing of desire shooting through her again, because a brooding Colin was sexy, but a smiling Colin was flat-out irresistible.

Darcy came to her feet. “I’m sure I didn’t disappoint,” she joked.

As Colin got his feet beneath him, Darcy took a step back. “So what are you recovering from?”

Raking a hand through his hair, Colin sighed and shook his head. “A life I’ve left behind,” he muttered.

Curiosity heightened, she wanted to know more about this mysterious man who’d so easily and swiftly captured her attention.

“Tell me what your goal is,” he said, resting a hand on the rail of the treadmill. “Are you wanting to lose weight, tone up or just work on feeling better about yourself?”

“All of the above.”

A wide smile stretched across his face. The combination of those bright blue eyes and that knee-weakening smile could have any woman throwing all morals and professional behavior out the window.

“Let’s get started,” he said, clasping his hands together.

An hour later, Darcy was questioning her sanity and wondering why she’d let those sexy, dark-skinned muscles sway her judgment. How in the world did she think she could keep up? This man was obviously in shape and she was obviously...not.

She resisted the urge to bend over and pull in much-needed air to her overexerted lungs.

“Ready for more?” he asked, hands on his hips, devastatingly handsome smile on his face.

She sent him a glare. “I’m not a masochist.”

“You’re honest,” he replied, using his T-shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow. “I prefer honesty.”

“That makes two of us.”

He moved over to the small refrigerator in the corner of the room and pulled out two bottles of water. After handing her one, they both uncapped the drinks and took long pulls. Water had never tasted so good.

“So why the nanny business?” he asked, propping his foot upon a workout bench. His elbow rested on his knee, the bottle of water hung between two fingers. “Because you’re an amazing cook. Dinner was pretty damn delicious. All of the meals have been great, but tonight’s was my favorite.”