Page 27 of Fool Me Twice

“Come on.” She snorted, clearly not buying his answer. “Do you really expect me to believe you haven’t noticed how pretty she is?” She put her hands on her hips, her head tilted to one side as she studied him through narrowed eyes.

“I guess, but I didn’t hire her because of her rack, did I—“

“Ha, I knew it.”

“I hired her,” Peter said, ignoring her smug grin. “For her professional skills.”

“Yeah, and how is that working out?”

“Great,” he said, trying to ignore at the pain shooting through his shoulder as he tried to butter a bread roll. Aware of Evie’s eyes on him, he put down the knife and ripped off a corner of the roll and popped it into his mouth instead. He’d be damned if he was going to admit that despite the number of session he’d had with Bex, he hadn’t felt any real improvement.

“Really?” Evie reached for the knife and buttered the roll before placing it back on his plate. “Because from what I’ve seen, she seems far more interested in parading around the pool in her itsy-bitsy bikini than actually giving you a proper workout.”

“And how do you know that she’s not giving me a proper workout in the gym? Or in the studio?”

“I know what kind of workout she’d like to give you,” Evie muttered.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He knew exactly what she meant; he’d been thinking the same thing himself. Not that Bex had been subtle in her hints.

“Oh, come on,” Evie shrieked, her eyes widening. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the way she looks at you or noticed all the hints she keeps dropping about how she prefers ‘older men’ or how she finds boys her own age ‘immature’?”

“I can’t say I have, no.”

“That’s because you’ve been far more interested in staring at her knockers. And let’s be honest,” she continued with a pointed look. “There’s a lot of them to see. And while we’re on the subject, those bathing suits are completely inappropriate. She’s here to do a job, not on some lad’s mag calendar shoot.”

“What’s the matter, Evie?” Peter struggled to suppress a smirk. “Not jealous, are you?”

“What?” she huffed out loud. “Of Miss Tits ’n’ Arse? I don’t think so.”

Laughing, Peter shook his head.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.

“Nothing.” He grinned, enjoying having the upper hand for once.

“No, go on, tell me.”

“Well, don’t you think you’re being hypocritical? Your boy toy must be a good ten years younger than you, but because Bex prefers a more mature man, you think she’s a gold digger.”

“I didn’t say she was a gold digger,” Evie said.

“No, but that’s what you’re implying, isn’t it? That she’s after my money.”

“Well, isn’t she?”

“Probably,” he said evenly, completely taking the wind out of her sails.

“Does she know you’re married?” Evie said, clearly annoyed by his candour.

“I don’t know.”

Evie’s expression darkened. “Well, don’t you think you should tell her?”

“Why?”

“Do you really need to ask?” she said through gritted teeth, her eyes burning with the fury she was obviously struggling to contain. “Here we go again.” She threw her arms out at her sides and raised her head heavenward. “It’s always the same old story with you, isn’t it? You find some young girl, have your fun, then once you’ve had enough, run back to your wife.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” he said, furious with himself for allowing his arrogance to lead him somewhere he definitely didn’t want to go. “Why would I tell my physiotherapist that I’m married? Anyway, I’m getting a divorce, if you must know.”

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