Rekindling Love (British Billionaires Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

treadmills to the stationary bicycles lined behind the treadmills.
     
    Taking a cycle mid-row gave her a view of the man. She was breathless before her feet started pedaling. It was Rupert Locke-Smythe and he'd grown into a beautiful man. More beautiful than the eighteen-year-old boy she recalled vividly. Tall and confident, and she could hear his British accent from where she sat. Smooth and low in tone, she wished it was her on the treadmill.
     
    Years change nothing, no matter what distance you put between two people, thought Susan. Isn't that a cheesy line from the musical? It sounds corny on stage, but it's not too far from the truth.
     
    Oh God, he's going. What should I do? I'll work out, because I am no longer fifteen years old and no longer indulge in unrequited love with mean boys. He's not a boy, though. He's a man. The girl from the treadmill isn't following him, that's a hopeful sign. Means he's single. Maybe fate has put us here. First the flowers from his sister and now this. It has to be a sign. Sitting here on the bike isn't going to help love run its course. I'm not even pedaling. Pedal, Susan, pedal. No, stop. Go after him and say hi. That's a bit stalker-ish. Time's running out. Time to be a stalker or time to wave goodbye to what destiny offered you on a plate. Do something. Don't freeze.
     
    She jumped off the bike, the bicycle seat stabbing her in an unwelcome place between her legs.
     
    “ Ouch,” she said audibly.
     
    The girl on the treadmill, spun around to see the accident.
     
    She's lovely. No wonder she can turn down Rupert. Unless he was turning her down. Right, pull yourself together Susan. Give Cupid a wave to shoot his bow.
     
    Scouting the men's dressing rooms, she snagged her sneaker on someone else's foot and went flying.
     
    “ I've got you,” said the dreamy voice, catching her.
     
    “ Thanks,” she muttered, forcing herself to meet Rupert's eyes after fifteen years.
     
    “ It's fine,” he released her. “You steady?”
     
    “ Yes. Thank you so much.”
     
    “ What were you after?”
     
    “ I'm sorry?”
     
    “ What were you after? You seemed to be searching for something.”
     
    That question is friendly, but detached. Is he pretending not to know me? Playing Mr. Cool? Maybe he has absolutely no idea who I am, she thought.
     
    “ What were you searching for?” he repeated.
     
    “ Oh yes, the men's changing rooms.”
     
    “ The men' s changing rooms?” Rupert emphasized the gender of the changing room she had stated.
     
    How did that pop out of my mouth? He must think I'm a pre-op transsexual now, she winced.
     
    “ Yes. I dropped my cell phone somewhere here and the last time I had it was passing the men's dressing rooms.” She congratulated herself internally. Off stage or on stage, no one improvises like Susan-Marie Thompson.
     
    “ I thought for a moment,” he grinned at her. “It doesn't matter.”
     
    “ I know what you thought.”
     
    “ You don't. I thought whoever did your surgery did a fantastic job.”
     
    She laughed hysterically. Don't go overboard Susan, she berated. You're laughing as if he's a top comedian that has told you the funniest joke ever told. Now the laugh is sounding fake. Stop it. Ceasing laughing, she realized they were by the men's dressing rooms.
     
    “ Do you need a hand to look?”
     
    “ That'd be nice.”
     
    Susan let Rupert run around as if playing hide and seek with her non-existent missing cell phone. Directing and recalling imaginary places where she had it filled her with mirth.
     
    Oh he's sweet and trying so hard. I need to stop being mean now, she decided. Although that cute little tush bending over is fine entertainment. I'll leave it a minute or two longer.
     
    Giving it five minutes, Susan was picking obscure places forcing Rupert to reach up so his vest would raise, giving her a glimpse of his six-pack stomach. The frisson was exciting. It took the sting from his not knowing