Page 13 of Temptation and Tyranny

As I outlined my proposal, with us splitting the profit evenly, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was making a deal with the devil. But it was too late to turnback now. I was all in, for better or worse.

We scheduled a meeting, and then I finally hung up, exhaling deeply. The skyline was starting to lighten with the first hints of dawn, and I watched the sun slowly creep into the sky, feeling the weight of my decisions pressing down on me. I stood up, debating whether I wanted to sleep, or try to stay up now that it was nearing morning. I had a lot of work to do, and not much time to do it.

I found my mind searching for a distraction, and it landed on my pretty little physical therapist. Allegra. Allegra Prescott. Even her name was beautiful. Her smile, her determination, the way she’d looked at me during our session…standing up to me in a way few had—I was definitely intrigued by her. Enough so that I had found and read her entire profile on her clinic’s website. For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine a different life—one where I was just a normal guy, trying to heal, maybe hooking up with my physical therapist.

But that wasn’t my reality. I had chosen this path, and now I had to see it through. No matter the cost. I never wanted to be helpless, vulnerable again. When my father’s illness got so bad that he couldn’t work, we had faced eviction and I was days away from ending up on the street. I had been in upper school at the time, and had tried to pick the wrong pocket. Steele’s. But it ended up being the best move of my life.

Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Steele had been right all along. Maybe getting into weapons was a step too far. But it was too late for second thoughts now. I had made my bed, and now I had to lie in it—no matter how painful it might be.

Chapter Four

Allegra

The clock on my office wall ticked steadily, each second bringing me closer to my next appointment. Cooper Moreau. I sighed, wrapping the elastic band on my ponytail tighter. Our last session had ended with an unexpected agreement—he’d actually promised to follow my treatment plan. But promises from men like Cooper were as reliable as Parisian weather in spring.

I gathered my clipboard and headed to the gym to check the equipment, bracing myself for another hour of his cocky attitude and thinly veiled flirtations. But as I pushed open the door, I stopped short. Cooper was already there, his muscular frame stretched out on one of the mats, performing some of the warm-up routines I’d recommended. His tee-shirt strained as his muscles bulged, and I quickly looked down at my paperwork, trying not to stare. He was built like one of the gods. For a second when he strained, I thought I saw a tattoo of some sort right below his collarbone. But he adjusted his position, and the view disappeared.

“Well, well,” I said, unable to keep the hint of approval from my voice. “Look who’s been following his treatment plan.”

Cooper looked up at me, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple. The playful mask he usually wore fell away, revealing something darker, more focusedbeneath. “I told you, Miss Prescott. I want to ride my bike again.”

I set my clipboard down, studying him. His determination, along with the masculine sheen of sweat across his forehead, sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. “Alright then, let’s put you through your paces.”

As Cooper stood, I couldn’t help but notice how his shirt clung to his body, damp with exertion. His blonde hair was a bit longer than it had been when I first met him, and the longer locks threatened to curl from the moisture on his forehead. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to maintain a professional demeanor. “Let’s start with some range of motion exercises.”

We began with arm circles, and I was pleasantly surprised by his improved balance. “Good,” I nodded, jotting down some notes. “Now, let’s check your hamstring flexibility.”

I demonstrated the stretch, bending forward with straight legs. As I straightened, I caught Cooper’s gaze lingering on me. He quickly looked away, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. It was such an uncharacteristic display of shyness that I almost laughed.

“Your turn,” I said, gesturing for him to try.

Cooper attempted the stretch, his face scrunching in concentration. Without thinking, I moved behind him, my hand on his lower back to steady him. “Keep your back straight,” I instructed, my voice sounding oddly husky to my own ears.

I felt him tense under my touch, the muscles of his back rigid beneath my palm. He was warm against my hand, and I could feel his muscles strain againstme. I touched patients all the time, it was a part of my job. But I’d never felt a spark like this. For a moment, neither of us moved. The air seemed to thicken, charged with an electricity I wasn’t entirely comfortable acknowledging.

Cooper broke the silence, his voice tinged with amusement. “So, do I get a gold star for my progress?”

I let out a small chuckle, grateful for the break in tension. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ve still got work to do.”

As we moved to the exercise mat for some core work, I tried to regain my professional composure. “We’ll do some planks now. They’re excellent for core stability, which you’ll need when you’re back on that motorcycle of yours.”

I demonstrated the proper form, lowering myself onto my forearms. “Keep your body in a straight line from head to heels,” I explained, looking up at Cooper. His focused attention sent warmth flooding into my face. I could see his pupils constrict as he watched me, and it was as if this appointment had moved into dangerous territory quickly.

“Now you try,” I said, standing up perhaps a bit too quickly.

Cooper lowered himself into position, but his form was a bit off. His hips were too high, his back slightly arched. Without thinking, I knelt beside him, my hands going to his hips to adjust his posture.

“Like this,” I murmured, suddenly aware of how close we were. I could smell his cologne, a heavy mix of amber and something darker, more masculine. It was intoxicating, and I found myself leaning in slightly, almost unconsciously.

When he looked at me, the rest of the world blurred at the edges, leaving only us in sharp focus. “Is this right?” he asked, his voice even lower than usual, sending a silent thrill through me. Watching him hold up his body weight on his forearms definitely painted a risqué picture in my mind.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to focus. “Y-yes, that’s better.” I stood up abruptly, putting some much-needed distance between us. “Hold that for thirty seconds.”

As Cooper held the plank, I busied myself with my clipboard, trying to calm my racing heart. What was wrong with me? This was Cooper Moreau—arrogant, infuriating Cooper Moreau. The man who’d spent the last month making my job infinitely harder with his stubbornness and flippant attitude. And yet…

“Time,” I called out, perhaps a bit too loudly. Cooper relaxed, rolling onto his back with a groan.

“Damn. You’re not going easy on me, are you?”

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