She snorted. When we got to the elevator doors, she stopped, but I kept going.
“You really want to take that rattle trap again?” I asked over my shoulder.
She caught up to me. “Where are we going?”
“Stairs.”
“We can’t take the emergency exit. It’ll set off the alarms.”
“It really won’t. Most hotels just have cameras and not alarms. They get a security alert when a door is opened so they can check on whoever entered the stairwell and let them back in when they lock themselves out. But, in this case, I’ve let them know we’ll be using them for the rest of the day.”
I waved a keycard at her.
She smiled at me, the first smile I’d seen since the day before, and I was damn sure I wanted to keep it on her face. We raced down the stairs, her trying to beat me, even though she hadn’t stated the challenge. It was still there in the determination on her face.
I was damn glad to see it. The smile. The determination. The Dani I knew.
I almost wanted to give in and let her win, but it wasn’t part of who I was, so I reached the mezzanine first, opening the door and clearing the hallway before letting her out.
When we got to the fitness center, she went automatically to the bike in the corner—the one she’d been on when I’d shown up the morning before. But I wanted to see more of what I’d seen yesterday. I wanted to push her again and see what else she could do. It wasn’t merely because it was a turn-on, which it was; I also wanted her to realize she was strong. Both physically and mentally.
“You going to do that wimpy-ass bike ride again?” I taunted. She bristled, and I couldn’t help the grin I had by the time she turned to me.
“It’s hardly wimpy.”
“I bet I could give you a much better workout,” I said, and when the color hit her cheeks, I realized what I’d said. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Athena.”
I pulled out the battling ropes Marco and I had discovered the day before. “Ever use one of these?”
She shook her head.
Thirty minutes later, we were both covered with sweat from using the ropes, the exercise balls, and the weight machines. I downed some water and then asked, “How much can you bench press?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never used a regular bench press. I’ve always used the machines.
“Well, let’s find out.”
She went to the bench and lay down while I loaded two ten-pound weights on each end. She rolled her eyes at me. “I think I can do more than that!”
I smiled at her. “Probably, but humor me. The bar itself is forty-five pounds, so let’s start here and work up to more.”
I stood behind the press, spotting her. She easily pressed the eighty-five pounds. I took off the twenties and added twenty-five and ten to each side. She lifted it with a bit more effort, did a couple of presses, and then looked up at me from her position on the bench.
From this angle, I could see the curve of the top of each of her breasts as gravity pulled them from her top. She was sexy and powerful, and all I wanted to do was make use of that bench in a much different way so I could make her feel just as sensual and powerful as I saw her. So she wouldn’t doubt herself when she had an episode in an elevator.
So she’d know we all had damage we took with us.
Hell, if she’d been in my room last night, she would have seen me fall apart as I came out of my nightmare. The dream where it had been Dani instead of Darren that I’d picked up and placed on a damn tarp, dragging it toward our evac location. It was Dani’s name I’d chanted as I’d stopped to return the fire enemy combatants were raining down on us as they appeared from nowhere. It had been Dani I’d been thinking about as I’d stood and shot round after round after round in a sea of black while Bull and Runner took the tarp and loaded it onto the helicopter.
“Hey, are you going to stand there staring like you just saw the enemy, or are you going to add more weight?” Dani called out to me, bringing me back to the fitness room.
“Let’s see if you’re Wonder Woman as well as Athena.” I smirked and loaded forty-five pounds on each end, bringing the total to one thirty-five. It was more than she likely weighed, but I was pretty sure she could handle it.
I held the bar while she took it out of the rack and then pulled it down to her chest before slowly pushing it back up. Her triceps and shoulders and pecs were cut and defined as she moved. I pulled my phone out and took a picture.
She glared. “You did not just take a picture!”
She twisted as she said it, causing one arm to go down at a weird angle. The bar tipped off the bench toward the floor, starting to take her body with it. I swung one foot over the bench and caught her and the weight before they hit the ground. As she pulled herself back onto the bench, I hung the bar back up, and then looked down at her from where I was straddling both her and the bench.
Shit.
Her hands went to my hips, and I was instantly hard, pushing against the stupid workout shorts that hid nothing. She smiled as if my getting hard was the best thing to happen to her all day. I could make it the best thing. I could definitely work our bodies out in a very different, more satisfying way.
“Why did you take a picture of me, Otter?” she asked, chest heaving, stomach muscles flexing.
I didn’t move my legs from their spot on either side of the bench
