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“You’re Josie Gunn?” he asks nonchalantly.
“Yep. Hello.”
“Master Victor Penmayne is in the gym. He has been expecting you.”
“Oh, the gym down in the town?” I ask, double-guessing that I’ve not arrived at the wrong time.
The butler smiles grimly as if I made some bad joke.
“No,” he says. “Master Victor is in the Penmayne private gym here on the property. He is waiting for you down there.”
“Oh.”
Now I’m feeling really dumb.
Of course they would have their own private gym here. Of course Victor wouldn’t use a gym frequented by normal people. I should’ve guessed.
The butler leads me around the back of the mansion and then down some stairs leading into a lavish underground basement. Well, it’s not the kind of basement I’m used to – this one is the size of a house and is bigger than any commercial public gym I’ve ever stepped in. It’s all golden floor lights and a spa-like atmosphere. Rich wooden paneling. Glass doors. Sleek and minimalist. There’s an entire row of hooks for gym towels, and I spy an entrance to an underground pool around the corner.
We step into the main area of the gym. I look around at all the state-of-the-art equipment. This place truly rivals any luxury health resort. There are entire rows for different fitness zones, like cardio and weightlifting.
I’ve seen nothing like it.
I am awed.
And then I see him.
Victor.
He’s doing bicep curls completely topless, admiring his own physique in the mirror. He hasn’t noticed us yet, and I take full advantage to peek at his body on display.
His arms flex with each bicep curl - thick, veiny muscles. There isn’t an ounce of fat on him. Victor has a nicely tanned body. Thin and athletic, but also ripped and toned. He could step onto a film set playing a superhero today and I would believe he was one.
He’s got a whole range of tattoos - dark ink that hints at a man who’s a lot deeper, and a lot more dangerous, than he might display to the outside world. I see one of an eagle. One of a quill and parchment. One of a blossoming flower.
Fuck me.
I feel myself getting wet at the sight of him, despite my best intentions.
His face is tensed in intense concentration as sweat drips down his forehead while he lifts up the heavy weights.
He grunts – a mean, muscular, manly grunt that echoes through my bones.
This is a man who knows how to work out.
He looks even fitter off-screen if that’s at all possible.
“Master Victor.”
It’s a shame that the butler has to announce our presence and ruin the performance.
Victor drops his weights and turns to us with a cheeky grin on his handsome face. He realizes he has a captive audience.
“Hello there, Josie.”
His deep, refined voice echoes across the room and stuns me to the spot.
The man takes his time to pick up his gym towel and stroll toward us. He wipes off the sweat from his forehead. His chest is huge. His shoulders are so nicely defined and broad. His shorts hug him close, revealing an outline of something... long.
