Page 37 of When She Tempts (The Fallen)
Giorgio just called me Mari.
When did we get so familiar with each other?
My pulse pounds inside my ears even as the rational part of my brain says it’s no big deal. But when I glance at Giorgio from under my lashes, his expression is tense, and he won’t meet my eye, like he knows that nickname shouldn’t have just slipped out like that.
He lets go off my elbow when my feet touch the padded mat, and he walks over to the box to dump his keys.
“We need to work on your strength and conditioning.”
“Why—”
“Ten push-ups, twenty squats, thirty sit-ups. Five rounds. Go.”
My brows scrunch up. “But why—”
His eyes flash with irritation. “Let’s go, Martina! While you’re with me, you do as I say, got it?”
The frustration in his tone snaps my spine straight.Jesus.What is his deal?
“Okay,” I say, getting to the ground. “No need to shout.”
He scowls. “I’ll count it out.”
What follows is twenty-five minutes of pure torture. Giorgio skips counting the reps I do with poor form, which is most of them, and after he demonstrates how to do it correctly, he forces me to do it all over again.
By the time I’m done with the five rounds, my body feels like jelly, and I can barely breathe. I fold over at my waist and anchor my palms on my knees. We haven’t even started the actual lesson.
“What are we learning today?” I pant, peeking at him through the loose strands of hair hanging over my face.
He motions for me to come over to the center of the mat. “We’re going to go over the same moves as yesterday.”
Straightening back up, I walk over to him. “Really? I think I got it. Can we try something new?”
He considers me for a moment. “If you can break my hold on first try, we’ll do something new.”
A fire lights inside of me at the hint of skepticism in his voice. After the wringer he just put me through, I want to prove him wrong. “Fine.”
Firm stance. His hands on my wrists. His grip tightens.
I don’t waste a second before I execute the technique.
“Ha!” Hopping away, I raise my freed wrists above my head. “Told you.”
The line between his brows softens. “Good work. You’re a quick learner.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “You’re a good teacher—when you’re not trying to kill me with drills, that is. Yesterday, you were much more patient.”
He glances at me, his lips curving at the corners a tiny bit. “Patient? I must’ve finally acquired that quality in my old age.”
My cheeks heat at the teasing tone of his voice. Is that a dig at me for calling him old on our way to the castello? “You know, I don’t actually think you’re old.”
His gaze flickers with something dark. “Compared to you, I am.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Let me guess. Thirty?”
“Thirty-three.”
I suppose I can see it, but I have to admit I never thought thirty-three could look this damn good on a man. My eyes drag down his body, and something sparks in the air around us, like a current gone awry.
