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The tall, well-muscled man permeated Kelly's tiny therapy room with an unsettling sense of possibility. He turned from the shelf where she displayed her lotions, aroma therapy candles and instrumental CDs, and her gaze swept quickly from head to toe. Dark hair, a little shaggy around the ears; broad chest covered by a black tee; narrow, jeans-clad hips. She reined in her galloping heart and focused on his eyes.
Lord have mercy, she thought. No man should have eyes the color of sapphires!
Definitely a prime specimen, the kind of man she dreamed of meeting -- anywhere but here.
“Good morning, Mr. Griffin,” she said, her professional tone belied her racing pulse. “I see from your chart you're experiencing some pain.”
“My neck,” he agreed. “I pulled a muscle, but I hate taking drugs.”
His sheepish grin had Kelly's heart somersaulting. Why did they have to meet here? If she'd bumped into him at the library or the grocery store, he'd have been fair game. But not here. Never here.
She controlled a sigh and said in a steady voice. “I'll concentrate on your neck and shoulders, then. Are you familiar with massage?”
“No, but my sister swears by it, and well, anything to ease this pain.” He tried to shrug, but grimaced instead.
She winced in sympathy, asked a few more questions about his general health and then motioned to the massage table. It dominated the room with its crisp white sheets and lightweight beige blanket.
“In a moment I'll leave. Disrobe to your level of comfort and lie face down on the table. Cover up with the sheet and blanket, and place your face in the cradle,” she indicated a padded, circular extension. “Try to relax. I'll be back in a few minutes.”
His whole body turned, following her movement as she crossed the compact room. She paused, hand on the door knob, and gave him a confident smile. “Don't worry, Mr. Griffin. You'll feel better soon.”
“Jim,” he said quietly. “My name is Jim.”
“It's nice to meet you, Jim.” Her heart threatened to explode as she turned the knob and escaped into the hall.
Kelly closed the door firmly, and leaned her head against its solid surface. This ethical test was overdue. She'd been practicing for over a year, and had never once been attracted to a client. No way would she fail. She would not let her emotions rule.
Eyes closed, she fought to find the serenity with which she always approached clients. Several deep, cleansing breaths later, Kelly wrestled her attraction into a remote corner of her mind. Jim Griffin was suffering. She possessed the skill to ease his pain. Nothing else mattered. Centered and focused, she knocked on the door, asked if he was ready, and entered the therapy room.
#
Several weeks, and many treatments later, Kelly wandered through the local farmer's market, thinking of Jim. The man captivated her thoughts no matter where she went. Snippets of their conversations replayed in exacting detail.
He ran a small landscaping business -- plants thrived in his presence. His parents lived back east, but his sister's family lived here. He owned a dog. At least, he thought he did. Tales of Toby's adventures had Kelly convinced that, in reality, Toby owned Jim.
She stepped into the shade of a potter's booth, relieved to be out of the sun's glare. Good thing she'd decided to wear shorts today. Her sleeveless knit top already clung damply, and it wasn't even noon.
She admired the hand-thrown pottery lining the booth's shelves. A sapphire pitcher -- just the color of Jim's eyes -- beckoned to her. She lifted it from its shelf, enjoying its smooth, flawless glaze. Reasonably priced, too. She replaced the jug and moved away, still focused on its graceful lines.
“Kelly?”
Jim's voice startled her, but not as much as the solid, furred warmth that pressed against her bare legs. She looked down into the tongue-lolling grin and liquid brown eyes of a huge yellow lab.
“You must be Toby,” she said, caressing the dog's velvet ears. Smiling, she met Jim's gaze. “Hello, Jim. Isn't it a perfect day?”
“It is now.”
The obvious admiration in his eyes, coupled with the husky rasp of his voice, sent a thrill of excitement skittering along her spine. Her pulse thrummed, sending a flush up her neck.
“He's a beautiful animal,” she said, squatting down to give Toby her full attention.
Toby wriggled excitedly and expressed his delirium by bathing her face with a pungent, wet tongue.
“Toby!” Jim yanked the dog away, and then stretched over to help Kelly to her feet.
“I'm so sorry,” he said. “Here, use this.” He pulled an overlarge handkerchief from his pocket and made dabbing motions at her face, while trying to keep the excited dog from knocking them both over.
Kelly laughed, took the handkerchief and finished mopping Toby's slobber from her cheek.
“Miserable mutt,” he mumbled, “might've known you'd blow it.” When he had the exuberant animal under control, he nodded to the park behind the booths. “Shall we get out of the crowd?”
They walked in companionable silence while Toby bounded at the end of his leash. Sunlight gleamed through the trees' lacy green canopy, while flowers nodded in neatly trimmed beds.
Conspicuously aware of Jim's interest, Kelly took a deep breath and blurted, “I've been wondering…could I move you to another therapist's schedule?”
He stopped and turned to face her, shocked disappointment clouding his eyes. “Why?”
She flushed, looked away, took another deep breath and said, “Because I'm attracted to you, and I can't ask you out while you're my client.”
A smile erased the disappointment and his sapphire eyes sparkled. “In that case, you're fired! The only reason I've been coming in so often was to see you.”
Kelly laughed as Toby caught their mood and did his best to trip them with his leash. “Great,” she said. “How about lunch?”
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