“I brought you here under false pretenses,” he said.

That killed all the delicious shivers. “I’m sorry?”

“I don’t think I can let your ants stampede over me for two full hours.”

She forced a cheery tone. “That would be too long to spend on just electrical stim. I have several treatments planned.”

Those green eyes glinted with interest. “I see I have a very limited understanding of physical therapy. What other delights are in store for me?”

“In addition to the e-stim, I was going to suggest some heat, some massage, and some gentle stretching.”

The interest turned into something more unsettling. “A massage? I’m on board with that program.”

Relief made her knees a little shaky. She’d get the full two hours after all. And she’d be stroking the bare skin of that sculpted back. She pulled her thoughts up short, even as she licked her lips.

He pinned her with his gaze. “We also have to talk.”

“Talk?”

“Isn’t that part of the therapy?”

“Um, to a certain extent.” Where was he going with this?

He gave a brief nod. “Good. What’s first?”

“On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst, tell me how bad the pain is now.”

He tilted his head to several different angles. She noted when his face tightened with distress. “Around a seven.”

“How was it after the e-stim yesterday?”

“Maybe a five.”

“That’s a good sign,” she said. “Now I’d like to look at your alignment.”

He held his arms out from his sides. “At your service. I even dressed the part today.”

She had already noticed he wasn’t wearing one of his expensive sweaters. Instead, he was sporting a black athletic shirt and training pants, the thin, sweat-wicking fabric outlining the hard curves of his muscles. It made her all the more aware of his body in a way she shouldn’t be.

“Good choice,” she said. “Would you stand with your feet about hip distance apart? Let your arms hang naturally at your sides.”

With a slightly mocking half smile, he took up the stance she requested. She walked behind him to give herself a moment to force her brain into therapist mode. Closing her eyes, she envisioned the way Gavin’s body would look if it were in perfect balance, without injury or stressors. Then she opened her eyes to compare the reality.

His pain practically leaped out at her. It showed in the way his shoulders were canted, in the angle of his neck, in the unconscious flexing of his fingers, and in the twist of his torso.

All her attention centered on how to ease the soreness he was feeling as she walked around, scanning his body from every angle.

“That is one ferocious frown,” he said. “Am I in worse shape than I think?”

Now she’d worried him, which wasn’t conducive to the relaxed mood she hoped to create. “You’re just off-kilter, and I know how unpleasant that can be.”

His eyes raked down her body, sending the blood to her cheeks. “I’m guessing that you’ve never been out of alignment.”

“I’m only human, but I know how to counteract physical stress better than the average person.” As proven by the amount of time she’d spent on the treadmill working off the trauma of her divorce.

“Physician, heal thyself?” He pivoted toward the massage table, and Allie pressed her hands to her telltale cheeks. Thank goodness he would be facedown for most of the session so he couldn’t see her.

Hoisting himself onto the table, Gavin shucked off his shirt and tossed it to catch on a nearby weight machine. Her cheeks notched up several more degrees of heat at the display of the rippling planes of his torso with its glaze of dark hair. “Why don’t you lie down and get comfortable while I make the environment more soothing.”

Miller glanced around the room and snorted. “Soothing is not an adjective I would apply to a gym.”

“You’d be surprised at what miracles I can work,” Allie said.

He swiveled his legs onto the table to sit with his arms loosely crossed on his knees. “You have surprised me often enough that you no longer surprise me.”

“Is that an oxymoron of some kind?”

“It’s the description of a woman who isn’t quite what she seems.”

Allie found the light switch and flipped off all but the wall sconces. “I’ve never thought of myself as mysterious. I kind of like it.”

“I’m not sure mysterious is the right word. You have layers.”

“Like an onion.”

He looked as though he’d eaten roadkill. “Please don’t quote that nauseating aphorism about peeling back the layers and sometimes crying.”

“You did it, not me.”

He gave her a sharp sideways look and rolled onto his stomach, fitting his face into the headrest.

Allie chalked up a point for herself before she set up her tablet to play both photos and music and placed it on the floor where he could see it.

As the sound of a waterfall twined with the strumming of a sitar, Gavin said, “I feel the urge to chant ‘Om.’”

“If it relaxes you, feel free.” She attached the stim pads to the bare skin of his neck and back, focusing on the trigger points of his tension rather than the powerful geometry of his muscles.

“Do you meditate?” he asked in a deep, half-muffled voice that evoked images of wrinkled sheets and pillows in Allie’s wayward mind.

“I try to. It’s not so easy.”

“You have a lot on your mind, do you?”

He wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to talk. She decided to consider his last question rhetorical. “I’m going to put the blanket over you now. And then I’m going to microwave some rice heat pillows to add another element of relaxation before I turn on the e-stim. I’ll be right back.”

She’d spotted the microwave during her last visit. It was built into a sleek wooden unit that also held a minifridge and a water dispenser.

“There’s a microwave in my gym?”

“You mean you don’t nuke pizza down here?” It was probably meant for exactly what she was doing: warming up heat packs.

“Ludmilla would have my head.”

“Which is why I thought you would do it.”