Page 14 of Temptation and Tyranny

I smirked, some of my usual confidence returning. “You wanted progress, didn’t you? No pain, no gain.”

Cooper sat up, wiping sweat from his brow. “Fair enough. What’s next?”

We moved on to some balance exercises, with Cooper standing on his injured leg. I stood close, ready to catch him if he wobbled. But to my surprise, he maintained his balance far better than in previous sessions.

“Amazing improvement,” I praised. “You’ve really been doing the work.”

Cooper grinned, that familiar cockiness creeping back into his expression. “Well, I had a prettycompelling reason to follow doctor’s orders.”

I paused, deciding to correct his misconception. “Actually, I’m not a doctor. I’m a licensed physical therapist.”

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his features. “No MD, huh? Should I be worried?”

I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze steadily. “Hardly. Physical therapists undergo extensive training specifically focused on rehabilitation and movement. In fact, for your type of injury, I’m far more qualified than a general physician would be.”

“Touchy subject?” he teased, but his tone held a new note of respect.

I softened slightly. “Not touchy. Just important. I worked hard for my qualifications, and I believe in being accurate.”

Cooper nodded, his expression turning more serious. “Fair enough. I get the importance of people taking you seriously, no matter what your occupation is.”

The tone in his voice caught me off guard. It was a side of Cooper I hadn’t seen before, a vulnerability, and it made something constrict in my chest. I cleared my throat, changing the subject.

“Apology accepted. Now, shall we continue?”

As the session went on, I found myself aware of every accidental brush of skin, every shared glance. Cooper, for his part, seemed to enjoy my flustered state, his trademark smirk making more frequent appearances.

“Alright,” I said, checking my watch. “Let’s finish up with some stretches.”

I guided Cooper through a series of cool-downstretches, my hands occasionally moving to correct his form. Each touch felt charged, sending little sparks through my fingertips. I tried to maintain my professional boundaries, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

As Cooper stretched his quadriceps, standing on one leg, he suddenly lost his balance. I reached out instinctively, catching him before he could fall. For a moment, we stood frozen, my arms around his waist, his hands gripping my shoulders. Our faces were inches apart, and I could feel his breath, warm against my cheek.

“Careful,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

Cooper’s eyes met mine, and the ferocity I saw there made my breath catch. “Careful isn’t really in my vocabulary,” he said softly, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

I stepped back quickly, my cheeks burning. “Yes, well, we can’t have you injuring yourself further, can we?”

By the end of the hour, we were both a bit breathless, and not entirely from the exercises. This appointment had been like the world’s longest foreplay session, and I felt my cheeks redden as the thought crossed my mind. I watched as Cooper toweled off, trying not to stare at the way his thick muscles bulged from the exercise.

“Well,” I said, trying to regain my composure, “you’ve made significant progress. If you keep this up, you might be back on that motorcycle sooner than we thought.”

Cooper grabbed his water bottle, taking along drink before responding. “Guess I have a good motivator,” he said, his expression darkening with a hunger that made my heart race.

I cleared my throat, suddenly finding it hard to meet his gaze. “Right, well, same time next week then?”

He nodded, grabbing his cane. As he headed for the door, he paused, turning back to me with that infuriating grin. “You know, I think I’m starting to enjoy our little workouts.”

Before my brain could formulate a response, he was gone, leaving me alone in the gym, my heart pounding and my mind spinning.

I sank onto a nearby bench, trying to collect myself. What the hell had just happened? I prided myself on my professionalism, and on maintaining clear and firm boundaries with my patients. But something about Cooper Moreau got under my skin in a way no one else ever had. He was a temptation—no matter how hard I tried, I felt myself drawn to him.

It wasn’t just his good looks—though he was undeniably attractive. It was the glimpses of something hiding just beneath that cocky exterior. The determination I’d seen today, the focus in his eyes as he pushed through each exercise, made me wonder what else was hiding behind those carefully crafted walls.

I shook my head, standing abruptly. No. This was dangerous territory. Cooper was my patient, nothing more. Whatever I thought I’d felt today—whatever he thought he’d felt—it couldn’t go any further.

As I gathered my things and headed back to my office, I tried to convince myself that the flutter in my stomach was just a result of a challenging therapy session. But deep down, I knew I was lying to myself.

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