One

      “Don’t you dare stop now!” From her position on the floor, Taylor Phillips stared down into the tired cowboy’s eyes and saw beads of sweat streaking down his temples.

      “How much longer till you’re satisfied?” Josh asked, pumping yet another time.

      “At least a minute...five if you can hold out that long.” He groaned and kept moving, but without much enthusiasm.

      “Having problems, Joshua Malone? I thought you told me you were in good shape” She knew she was goading him. She also knew that if she could elicit a little anger, he might find more energy and push his own limit.

      Finally, with one last growl, he slumped on the floor beneath her. “Enough.” A dumbbell rolled free from his hand and coasted along the mat.

      Taylor’s smile was one of triumph. She checked her watch then stood and extended an arm to Josh. “Not bad. Four minutes longer than yesterday.” Using his good arm, he grabbed hold of her hand and hoisted himself up.

      “Where did you learn to be a physical therapist? The University of S and M?” He wiped his forehead on the sleeve of his T-shirt, then massaged his left shoulder.

      Taylor laughed at his barb and made notes in his chart, resisting the temptation to write her thoughts: rich kid has to work hard. Poor baby. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him staring at her with that sexy smirk of his, one that he’d probably practiced in front of the mirror and that she’d heard worked on many an unsuspecting female in Bozeman. She wondered if he had a clue how much she enjoyed ignoring his overt moves on her. His shoulder had healed weeks ago. She knew why he kept coming around.

      With her head still down she was finishing her notes when the sound of Max’s footsteps crossing the tile