All Fixed Up Read Online Free PDF Page A

repeat business.
    She looked abashed. “It didn’t occur to me—I honestly never expected to see Alec again. I didn’t know NASA had jobbed him in for the video until after I filled out your questionnaire. As far as I knew, he moved back to Australia. I was under the impression he only leaves the country to go on shoots for National Geographic in remote areas of the globe. For him, it was always the more adrenaline, the better.”
    Easy to believe, looking at her. She’d give any man an adrenaline rush.
    I waved a hand breezily, going for the nonchalant response. No reason to worry her now. I’d leave it to Mark, aka Captain Need-to-Know, to decide how much to tell her. I could be discreet, too. “Don’t worry about it. Um … by the way, is the security guard at the community gate armed?”
    Swift, Ciel. Real nonchalant.
    A line appeared between her eyebrows. “I don’t think so. Why? Are you worried Alec is stalking me all of a sudden? Trust me, the guy is not pining for me. It was only ever fun and games for him.” She glanced again at her husband, a slow and gentle smile softening her expression into a thing of ethereal beauty. “Alec never wanted the same things I want. Misha is the real thing.”
    *   *   *
    The next morning I was back in D.C., after a red-eye on which I’d slept like a baby, thank you very much, with no noticeable drooling. Flying was getting easier for me, especially when my client picked up the tab for a first-class ticket.
    I was waiting for Laura at the gym where we always met for my ass-kicking lessons, having come straight from the airport. No point in stopping by my condo—my gym clothes were here, and it wasn’t as if Billy would be waiting in my bed with open arms and a knowing smile on his annoyingly gorgeous face. I sighed. Damn. I missed him. Sure, it had only been a week since I’d seen him (naked), but it was seven days too long as far as my body was concerned.
    I sighed again, unsure if having a boyfriend was even good for me. It might be like coffee—something that perks you up and makes you feel sooo good, but then you get addicted, and the next thing you know you’re in pain when it isn’t available.
    Plus, it made you sigh in public, which was totally humiliating. I clamped my mouth shut and clobbered the heavy bag with a roundhouse kick. Swore when I stubbed my pinky toe.
    I grabbed my injured appendage and hopped up and down on the other foot, skillfully managing to keep from falling on my ass. Barely.
    â€œYou need to master your high knee kicks before you hurl yourself into roundhouses.”
    Mark? Shit! What was he doing here?
    I whirled around, still holding my foot, looking, I imagined, as awkward as a flamingo on ice, and probably as pink. I didn’t bother to adapt away my blush—he would have noticed. He noticed everything. All I could do was hope he’d think my flushed face was due to the exertion of the workout I hadn’t technically started yet.
    Thoughts started tumbling in my head. How long had he been watching? Damn, he looked good. Tall, blond, and chiseled. Hard, like he’d been carved out of wood that had since petrified.
    Except his eyes. His gray eyes could be hard, but they were anything but petrified. They changed constantly, ranging from dove soft to gun-barrel scary, depending on his mood and the situation. Right now they were somewhere in the middle. Neutral, like he was hiding behind them. They’d been like that a lot since a stupid mix-up on my part had culminated in me giving him the world’s most awkward can’t-we-just-be-friends speech.
    I lowered my foot, pretending it didn’t hurt anymore. “Um, yeah. Laura said the same thing. So, where is my sadistic sister-in-law, anyway? She was supposed to be here to mete out more of the punishment she refers to so adorably as ‘lessons.’”
    Mark raised