The Billionaire’s Girlfriend Bet - Leslie North Page 0,4

on the Seagulls squad. Here she was, living her dream, making more money than she’d dreamed possible back when she started the long road toward physical training.

And now Blake Harrison is about to take you out on a date.

Okay, that was a massive exaggeration. Combing through his own training equipment was hardly a date. If anything, it was the textbook definition of work. He didn’t know what he was doing, so he needed an expert to help guide him. Fair enough. Even if, deep down, there was a part of Michelle that wondered what it would be like to date someone like Blake—a guy who seemed straight out of a modern-day fairy tale—her ex had cured her from believing in happily ever afters. There would be no dating for her—certainly not anytime soon.

Footsteps approached the gym, causing Michelle to straighten. But then she slouched slightly, trying to affect the perfect casual pose. She smoothed down the front of her pants, thinking maybe she looked too prim…too professional. Even though that was what she was going for, she didn’t want to overdo it. No, she wanted to walk that careful line between someone Blake would notice…but then absolutely not go after.

Easy peasy.

“Michelle, hey!” Blake’s grin made the sunlight bathing the gym pale in comparison. All of her tension dissolved immediately as he headed her way, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dress slacks.

There was something about a businessman that always got her, but on Blake, it hit her just a little harder. Between his broad shoulders, his longish chestnut hair, and that heartbreaker grin on his face, Michelle would have to be careful not to fall in love with the man. Especially since he looked like a man who worked out. She’d seen the swell of his biceps through his dress shirt yesterday when he’d come in to get his face cleaned up. And she hated to admit just how curious she was about what he looked like under his pressed, perfectly-tailored clothes.

“Hello, Blake.” She sent him a sweet smile, craning to look at the side of his face as he approached. “You seem to be healing nicely.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll survive after all.” He grinned down at her, his gaze washing over her so intensely that, for a moment, she forgot what she was doing here. What this was about. Blake’s attention had so fully consumed her that when she went to speak, she couldn’t even find her voice.

“Are we ready to go in?” he finally asked.

“Yes, please. Though you’ll have to explain more about what you’re looking for today,” she said as she led the way into the training facility. This complex was one of the lesser-used gyms in the team’s network of training fields and properties, but it was just as impressively well-outfitted and modern as the rest of them. Their footsteps scuffed quietly as they entered the cavernous gym, the steel gray walls lined with framed photographs from throughout the team’s decades-long history.

“Well, as you probably are aware, I bought the team just over two years ago,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked around the gym. “As you can imagine, there’s been a lot to attend to, and I’ve only recently been able to turn my attention to the actual training facilities. I’m sure there’s a lot here that could use some updating.” He paused, pointing at a bicep curl machine nearby. “This is a good example. This thing looks ancient, right?”

Michelle tilted her head, examining the machine. She wouldn’t call it ancient, but it certainly showed signs of use. “It’s an older model, but it’s got some mileage left on it.”

“All I need to hear is the word ‘older.’” Blake pocketed his hands again, pursing his lips as he examined the room. “I want everything to be fresh. Modern. Completely new.”

She frowned, trying to follow his gaze. “Even if the current equipment is perfectly fine?”

He snapped his fingers, turning to her. “That’s what I want you to tell me. On a scale of crap to ten…where do these pieces fall?”

She smiled, pulling her wraparound a little tighter around her. These gyms were always kept at just above freezing, and she’d always been a cold person. Her mother always joked that even in the desert, Michelle would wish it was just a touch hotter. “Crap to ten?”

“Exactly. That’s the scale we’re using.”

“Perfect. All right then, let’s see.” She began a slow walk down the main aisle of the gym,