Page 10 of The VIP Doubles Down
He’d said it. She hadn’t.
“I can teach you how to counteract the physical effects of writer’s block.”
He sighed. “And here I thought my agent had found a miracle worker.”
“Is the stim level still comfortable for you?” She wished she could fix his writer’s block as well as his muscle aches. She missed Julian Best.
“It’s right on the border of discomfort. I like it.” His smile rivaled a razor blade.
What could they talk about that wouldn’t add to his stress? She’d googled Gavin Miller when Ms.Dreyer had called to tell her about the job, but most of the information pertained to either his writing career or his canceled engagement to the actress Irene Bartram, both of which were off-limits. However, there was that photo of him talking with the famous quarterback Luke Archer after a football game. “Are you a sports fan?”
“What would give you that idea?”
“You’re a guy.” Her smile invited him to share the joke.
“How gratifying that you noticed.” He gave her a look that made little flickers of heat waltz through her. Then he tilted his head as though considering an important issue. “I like ice hockey and tennis.”
“Not football?”
“Ah, you are referring to my association with the legendary Luke Archer.” Anger sparked in his eyes. “I cheered him on in the Super Bowl, which was a mistake. He’s become an arrogant ass. Pardon my language.”
Surprise flicked at her.
“You’re quite welcome to tell him I said so.” Amusement slipped in alongside the anger in Miller’s tone.
“I’m not likely to have the opportunity to speak with Luke Archer.”
“Then I’m quite safe in saying anything I want to about him.”
Her curiosity got the better of her. “Aren’t you friends?”
“Former friends.”
“I’m sorry.”
He laughed, and this time it was real. “He pissed me off last night, so I’m venting. Mostly because it’s impossible to get a rise out of the Iceman. I suppose I still consider him a friend.”
“That’s his nickname, right? The Iceman?”
“One he is not particularly fond of, although he certainly fostered it.”
The stim unit emitted a soft beep, indicating that it had shut down.
“Have fifteen minutes passed already?” Miller sounded almost disappointed.
“I can set it for another fifteen minutes. It will be even more effective on the muscle knots.” She rose carefully from the creaky chair.
He hesitated a long moment before shaking his head. “I’m just wasting your time. Go work your magic on someone more appreciative.”
If she had someone else to work on, she wouldn’t care if they were appreciative or not. “Ms.Dreyer has paid for my time, so you should take advantage of it.”
“Ah, so tempting,” he said with that unsettling gleam in his eye. “But I must decline. Remove the pads.”
Once again he leaned forward so his neck was bared to her. As she bent to disconnect the electrical leads, she caught the scent of him, a slightly spicy, exotic fragrance from his hair that must be the shampoo he used, with an undercurrent of the body-warmed wool of his sweater. It was clean, masculine, and hazardous to her professional demeanor. She fumbled the wire, yanking on the pad that was attached to his neck. She stroked the pad in apology, hoping to soothe any hurt. “I’m so sorry.”
He took a deep breath. “Barely felt anything.” His voice held that strange tightness again.
She paused a moment and closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus on the job and not the man. Once she felt in control, she finished disconnecting the wires and began gently peeling the pads away from his skin. It shouldn’t hurt, but she still found herself brushing her fingertips over the soft skin as a sort of healing massage.
