An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Working Up a Sweat
ISBN 9781419920011
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Working Up a Sweat Copyright © 2009 Ciana Stone
Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book Publication June 2009
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Working Up a Sweat
Ciana Stone
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Pilates: LeRiche, Mary Pilates
Prologue
“To Calliope, a woman with more balls than I.” Fenny raised her glass in a toast.
“I still can’t believe that you wouldn’t try it.” Dee clicked her glass against Fenny’s then each of the glasses held by the other women.
“Honey, to me, clothing optional means I can keep mine on.”
Dee chuckled and winked at Calliope. “At least some of us aren’t afraid of new experiences. I hope it’s a real…eye-opening experience, Cal.”
Dini cackled and fell back on the sofa. “Yeah, eye-opening.”
“What I want to know is are you going to go au naturel?” Stella asked.
“I’d like to know that, too,” Eden added with a shudder. “I can’t even imagine going naked around a bunch of strangers.”
“I still can’t believe you won,” Stella said. “You must have entered…what? A thousand of these things? To think that you’d finally win and the prize would be a free trip to a clothing-optional resort!”
“It’s really beautiful from the looks of the website.” Dini’s comment prompted an enthusiastic conversation over the merits of the resort.
Calliope remained silent, looking around at the women. It was easy to see why Stella had grown so attached to all of them. They were all incredible, each in their own fashion. The ever-elegant Fenny, who looked like she should be royalty but could zing you with her quick and often irreverent wit, the inexhaustible energy of Dini and her adorable quirky ways, not to mention her insatiable curiosity and ribald humor. Eden, the sometimes quiet woman who would seem at home in a tale of magic with her soft voice and subtle sensuality, behind which lurked a mind that was razor sharp.
Then there was Dee. On the surface she came across as a good-time gal, always cracking a joke or poking fun at herself and the world around her. Beneath the surface she was sharp as a tack and a multi-talented person who had the biggest zest for life of anyone Calliope had ever met.
Yes, it was easy to see why her sister Stella had fallen so in love with these women. And why she was already feeling so at ease with them. She’d only been included in their circle for a month and already she felt like part of a sisterhood. Albeit a junior member, but still a welcomed one.
“So back to the question of nudity,” Eden cut into her thoughts. “You think you’ll do it?”
“To be honest, the jury is still out on whether I’ll shed my togs.”
“Togs?” Dee’s eyebrow arched. “You’ve been working on that romance novel, haven’t you? Let me guess. It’s historical.”
“What makes you think that?” Dini asked.
“Togs?” Both of Dee’s eyebrows shot up. “Who uses the word ‘togs’?”
“She does.” Dini pointed at Calliope and then added, “So when will be jury be in on that tog shedding?”
“When she decides to shave her legs,” Stella quipped.
Fenny groaned and leaned back in her chair. Eden and Dini laughed and Dee reached out to pat Fenny’s knee. “Now, Fenny, not everyone is as finicky as you about shaving. Cal’s just a natural kinda gal.”
Calliope felt herself blush. Dee was right. At least partly. She wasn’t glamorous, sleek or even stylish. Her clothes were chosen based on comfort and ease of care and she tended to favor loose tunics and long shirts or cotton slacks. And sometimes she didn’t bother to shave her legs. Forget about shaving other parts of her anatomy. What was the point? She was the only one who ever saw that.
Her hair wasn’t styled, highlighted or dyed. It was simply long, dark and normally secured in a braid. And her makeup of choice was none. Overall, she was plain and unremarkable, the kind of woman who didn’t get noticed. The kind who could walk into a car dealership, steal a car and get away with it simply because she went unnoticed.
Calliope accepted that about herself. It didn’t cause her sleepless nights or anxiety. In fact, the only time she really thought about it was when she was around women who made their looks a high priority. For herself, she believed what her parents had told her as a small child. When the right person comes along, the one who loves the person inside you, then the outside packaging isn’t important.
So far that right person hadn’t come along. Two years ago she thought he had. Boy was she wrong. She’d let herself care—too much—and ended up getting her heart broken. It had taken some time to get over it, but she had, and she’d learned a valuable lesson. First, she was no good at games, and second, if another chance ever did come along, she had to be careful to keep a tight leash on her emotions.
“So?” Dee nudged her, drawing her back to the moment. “You think you’ll get up the nerve and dare to bare?”
“I doubt it.”
“I don’t blame you,” Fenny announced. “And besides, you can have a perfectly lovely time without parading around in your birthday suit. I’m sure it will be a beautiful resort and you’ll have a wonderful time.”
“I hope so.”
“And speaking of time,” Stella said. “Your cab should be here any minute. Want me to walk you downstairs?”
“Sure, that’d be great.” Calliope put her nearly untouched glass of wine on the coffee table and rose. “Ya’ll wish me luck.”
Amidst a chorus of good luck wishes and hugs, she shrugged on her coat and gathered her bags. There wasn’t time for more than a hug from Stella when they emerged from the building. The cab was waiting.
With a deep breath and a prayer that winning this trip wasn’t going to prove to be the biggest mistake of her life, Calliope climbed into the cab and waved goodbye to her sister.
Chapter One
Calli finished unpacking and walked around the villa. It was really nice, very luxurious. And seemed quite large with her wandering around in it all alone. She stopped in the middle of the living area and just stood there. What now?
The nice lady who’d greeted her and given her a tour of the resort before showing her the villa she’d be staying in had rattled off all the acti
vities available. There were special events scheduled for the weekend and a reminder for Calli that she’d won three sessions with a private trainer, a full day at the spa including massage. If none of that met her fancy there were many day trips to nearby attractions available if she was interested.
Right now, Calli wanted to pack up and head back to Boston. Back to her safe, warm apartment with its over-laden bookshelves and comfortable couch. She was totally out of her element here.
What was she going to do? There was no way she’d ever be able to shuck her clothes and romp around like the guests she’d seen. People playing tennis and volleyball, swimming, lying in the sun, sitting at the bar. Naked.
Oh god. Why had she accepted this trip? She couldn’t take part in any of this and certainly couldn’t go out in long pants and a shirt to mingle with a bunch of naked people.
Her cell phone rang and she ran for the bedroom, snatching it up like it was the last life preserver on a sinking ship. “Hello?”
“Are you naked yet?” Dee’s voice came over the line.
“Hardly.”
“You don’t sound too thrilled, Cal. You okay?”
Calli wasn’t. In fact, right now she wanted to cry. “This was a mistake, Dee. Don’t tell Stella, but it was. A really big mistake.”
“Why?”
“You should see it!” Calli wandered into the living area, looking out of the window at the resort. “I mean, it’s really beautiful and if there weren’t a million naked people here I’d love to get out and walk around.”
“A million?”
“Okay,” Calli admitted at the laugh from Dee. “Maybe not a million. But a lot. What am I going to do? Stay here until it’s time to leave?”
“Well, that’s one option. Or you could put on a swimsuit and a cover-up, take your laptop down to the pool and work on your book. Or take your cell phone and—you have video on your phone, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So go get us some clips. Send them to me and I’ll put them together and stream them to the gals.”
“What if someone gets mad?”
“Well, damn, Cal, you don’t make a production of it. You just pretend you’re texting or something and point and shoot.”
“I don’t know, Dee.”
“Okay. Forget it. That’s more my style. How about this? Didn’t you say you’d won some sessions with a trainer?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you said you wanted to get back into better shape so you could do the marathon next year so why not start now? I can’t imagine people would be naked in the gym. I mean come on, you need some support on a treadmill.”
Cali’s mood brightened at the suggestion. She had intended to start training. She’d always run, but the last year or so she’d not been as dedicated and she really wanted to try the Boston marathon. Not that she’d win. Winning wasn’t the point. It was just something she wanted to do once in her life.
“That sounds like a good idea. Thanks, Dee.”
“Sure, babe. Call if you need me. And try to have fun, Cal. This isn’t your ordinary run-of-the-mill vacation. It’s an adventure. Kick up your heels and enjoy it.”
“I’ll try.”
“Okay, talk to you soon.”
With a much-improved outlook, Calli hurried to change. In five minutes she was dressed in shorts, a sports bra, t-shirt, and running shoes. Grabbing the map she’d been given of the resort, she stuck her key card in her cell phone case, clipped the case on the waistband of her shorts and headed out in search of the gym.
* * * * *
Leo politely removed the woman’s hand from his arm and placed his own hand on her back, gently steering her towards the door. She’d come in claiming to want help with her abs and had spent an hour doing an excellent imitation of an octopus.
He didn’t know how Dan the regular trainer tolerated it. Leo was just there for another week, filling in for Dan who was on a two-week honeymoon. It wasn’t a bad place. In fact the facilities were top notch. His only real complaint was the number of women who’d hit on him. Color him old-fashioned, but he liked to be the one who made the first move.
And hated being placed in the position of telling a woman he just wasn’t interested. In his experience, a rejected woman was the most lethal animal on the planet. They seemed to take rejection as incentive to make a man’s life unbearable.
Finally he got the woman out of the door. Heaving a relieved sigh, he turned just as the door reopened behind him. Sure it was her, back to try again, he pivoted. “I really don’t think—”
The woman, who stopped short and stared up at him with a “deer caught in the headlights” look, took a step back. “Excuse me?”
“I apologize. I thought you were someone else.”
“Oh. Well, okay. No harm, no foul.”
Leo smiled down at her. The top of her head reached about midway up his chest. Petite in stature, she had a look of innocence about her. Or maybe that was because she wasn’t wearing makeup. Not one bit. Not even that thick gunk women loved to smear on their eyelashes.
“How about we start again?” he said with a smile. “I’m Leo, one of the trainers. Can I help you?”
“Uh, well…” She paused and looked around. “Well, I won this trip here and it was supposed to include three sessions with a trainer, but I haven’t made an appointment or anything. And I don’t really know what I’d want from a trainer anyway, so…”
“Well, what do you want to achieve from your workouts?” Leo wasn’t sure why, but something about this waif intrigued him. Was it those big blue eyes, such an odd combination with that dark hair? Was it the complete lack of artifice, or was it that she hadn’t taken a step closer?
“Umm, just staying toned, I guess. I would like to train to run the marathon next year but I don’t know if I have time for that.”
“Do you run much?”
“I used to put in about five miles a day but the last couple of years I’ve gotten a little lazy and am lucky to get in two runs a week.”
He regarded her, his eyes moving to her legs. They were nicely muscled. Short little things. But then she wasn’t exactly a big woman. “I’ll be honest, I don’t have a lot of experience training runners. But if you’re interested in overall toning and flexibility, that’s something I can help with.”
“Okay, so should I make an appointment or what?”
“How about we start now? I have a couple of free hours before my next appointment.”
“Cool. Where do we start?”
The stab of lust that ripped through him at her question was a shock. Hold on, now. What was this? He wasn’t sure but it was pleasurable. It’d been a long time since he’d felt that. Too long.
“How about we start with stretching? Let’s see how flexible you are now and if you need to work on it I can suggest some exercises.”
“Okay.”
“Why don’t we move over there?” He pointed across the gym to a vacant area in one corner.
“Okay.” She smiled and started across the room.
Calli hoped her nervousness wasn’t apparent. The moment she’d looked up at that wall of muscle, something totally feminine inside had gone into serious meltdown. Which was odd. She wasn’t attracted to bodybuilders at all. Most of the ones she’d met were so caught up in their protein-versus-carb intake, how many sets they should do of an exercise and whether their body was symmetrical enough, that their physiques tended to become inconsequential to the sense of boredom they inspired.
Chances were this guy Leo was the same way. Not that it mattered. He was just there doing a job and she was a client. If only that mushy female lurking inside her would get a handle on that fact and stop sending signals to her vagina.
She couldn’t help but notice that more than half of the people in the gym were either nude or nearly nude. Some of the men wore shorts. So did some of the women, but many of the women were topless, wearing a bikini bottom or just naked.
And my god, waxing mus
t be more in fashion that she realized. There was an awful lot of slick flesh.
Calli stopped and waited for Leo, who had been stopped by another man. She watched, curious why Leo didn’t have the waxed thing as well. Wearing only a pair of short and sneakers, it was easy to see that he had plenty of hair on his body. The dusting of hair on his chest tapered to an intriguing line that followed the depression in his ripped abs then flared out just below the navel to disappear into the top of his shorts.
He ended the conversation and smiled at her as he approached. She couldn’t help but think how fitting his name was. With his mane of tawny hair and golden eyes, she could imagine him transforming into a magnificent lion.
And how romance oriented was that? Maybe Stella was right. Maybe she needed to read some thrillers or mysteries now and again. Even her lust was being colored by the romance genre.
“Okay,” he said as he stopped beside her. “Let’s start simple. Touch your toes.”
That was simple enough. She bent down and touched her toes. He had her put her hands flat on the floor beside her feet, then wrap her arms around her calves and touch her head to her knees.
“You’re very flexible.”
Why did that give her such a thrill? She knew she was flexible. Years of yoga and Pilates did that for a person. So why was a simple statement of fact so darn special coming out of his mouth?
She asked herself that question a dozen more times during the next two hours as Leo put her through her paces. When they finally stopped, she was sweaty and tired but feeling great, the way only a good workout can make you feel.
“Well, to be honest, I don’t know what more you need, Ms., uh, Ms.…I’m sorry I don’t even know your name.”
“Calliope Howard.”
“Muse or instrument?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry,” Leo laughed. “I meant are you named for the Greek muse Calliope or the musical instrument?”
Calli was stunned. This mountain of muscle knew about the Greek muse of poetry—and that there was a musical instrument by the same name?
“Did I ask the wrong question?”
“Oh, sorry.” She felt her face heat. “It’s just that…well, I-I guess I’m surprised you know who about the Greek muse.”
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