Why was I doing this? What did I expect to happen? I begged the receptionist at the foundation to let me know the name of the man from the previous meeting, and she relented after I gave her the Starbucks gift card my mom sent with one of her care packages. It had at least ninety dollars left on it.

Once I had a name, I did some digging. I searched and found the address of his office. His office didn’t have a gym. I took a flying leap that maybe he went to a gym near the office. That body didn’t come from healthy eating and long walks. Yes, he could have had a gym where he lived, but I didn’t have much to go on.

Ten gift cards later, after running from every front desk person, receptionist, and assistant I could find, I’d tracked Killian to a gym three blocks from his office. And the time of his weekly pickup game of basketball. Great! Now what? What the hell did I expected to happen once I found him?

I was face to face with a man I had no business trying to squeeze information out of. But I couldn’t turn back now. He’d seen me, and I was already completely screwing this up.

“Fine, you want an interview?” he asked, staring at me. His eyes roamed all over my body and it made me squirm. Not just squirm, my skin vibrated and I struggled to keep my breathing under control.

“Yes, that would be great.” I could try to figure out what he had in mind for the boards he was trying to get elected to. If Mr. Thayer was kicked off those boards it would severely impact his charitable contributions in the coming year. Impact the people who depended on him, if Killian wanted to change directions. Mr. Thayer told me how important those were.

“I’m busy, you’ll have to follow me,” he said, pushing past me and right into the men’s changing room. The door slammed shut and the sound reverberated throughout the whole gym. I stood there for a solid minute. Was I supposed to go in after him? He was going to make me work for this information. I straightened my shoulders and pushed through the door, jumping when it slammed behind me.

The smell of sweat and cologne smacked me in the face the minute the door closed. Holy gym socks, Batman. At the metal clang of a locker door slamming shut, I peeked around the corner of the row of lockers. I took the pen cap off with my mouth and stepped into the row, determined to get my information. Killian stepped out into the row in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His body was—words failed me. There seemed to be ridges and bulges where I’d never seen them on a man up-close before. He turned to look at me and I was frozen. The clink of the pen cap hitting the locker room floor broke me out of the spell.

“Sorry,” I said, turning my back to him. Footsteps rang out, the hard locker room floor amplifying the sound. My pulse pounding with each foot fall. His shadow loomed over me and I willed myself not to turn around. I didn’t know if I’d be able to keep from licking my lips, or worse, him. How was it possible for a guy to have a body like that?

“Don’t be. If you want your interview, you’ll have to do it in here,” he said, nodding toward the shower in front of me. Now it wasn’t just my pulse pounding. I squeezed my thighs together as I thought about him all soapy, standing under the spray of the shower. Snap out of it! You’re on a mission. He brushed past me, his tight muscles rubbing against my arm.

Was I seriously going to follow him in there? I struggled to form words. My ivy league education gone in an instant after standing face to face with this man, with this body that left me speechless.

The shower turned on and I took a tentative step into the lion’s den. My shoes squeaked on the tile floor in the shower. Killian ran his hand under the spray of the water as steam filled the shower room, and he whipped his towel from around his waist and hung it on one of the metal hooks on the wall. I gulped as I zeroed in on his muscled, toned butt. It was like a tractor beam. I could not pull my eyes away from his ass. I took a step before I caught myself.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” he said, chuckling over his shoulder as he ran a bar of soap over his body. I licked my lips. What I wouldn’t give to be that bar of soap as he worked it over his biceps and shoulders. “You did have questions, didn’t you? Or was this just a ploy to see me naked. Because I assure you, all you had to do was ask,” he said, flashing me a dangerous smile. Barbed wire, dripping with honey. Dangerous, topped with something so sweet you could barely resist.

I shook my head, clearing the cloud of sexual fog he’d cast over me, and got down to business. But the fogging on my glasses was another story. I needed answers and I’d get them tonight. I managed to ask Killian a few questions that didn’t make me look like a complete moron. He seemed to be humoring me. Not giving me any of the information I needed, but giving me just enough to keep me in the shower a bit longer. I was jotting down the last little bit of information when the water turned off.

The deafening silence in the shower other than the drip drip drip of water hitting the floor had me keeping my eyes firmly on the floor. Little rivulets of water danced around my shoes as they flowed down one of the shower drains.

“I’ve got a question,” he said, his voice coming through loud and clear without the spray of water to mask it. My stomach hadn’t stopped fluttering since I stepped into the room.

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the floor. “Okay, go ahead.”

“I need you to look at me when I’m speaking to you, sweetheart.” When he called me that, it made my knees weak. I usually hated pet names like that. They tended to piss me off. But on his lips, it didn’t sound like an endearment. It didn’t sound patronizing either. It sounded downright dirty. I took a deep breath and glanced up from my notepad. I expected him to be wrapped up in his towel, looking as delicious as ever, but I was at a complete loss as he stood there in the middle of the shower with the towel slung around his shoulders, using it to dry off his hair.

“Holy shit,” I said out loud before slapping my notepad over my mouth. My face was as red as a beet. I could tell. I could feel it. Had I really said that out loud? Please tell me I hadn’t. His chuckle let me know that I had indeed said it out loud and I needed to go crawl into a hole somewhere.

His bare feet came into view. Toe to toe with my shoes and suddenly I felt completely naked in front of him, although I was way more dressed than anyone should be in a shower.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice commanding me to obey. I couldn’t help it. I closed my eyes to skip over the danger zone and opened them, my head tilted up and staring into his eyes.

“Why are you here, Rachel?” he asked, his eyes boring into mine. My breath froze in my chest. He knew who I was. I did my best impersonation of a goldfish as my mouth opened and closed. So much for being stealthy. Everyone always said I was the worst liar, well here was proof staring me right in the face.

“I…How did you know my name was Rachel?” I squeaked.

“Because,” he said, leaning in closer. I felt myself rising on my toes without even meaning to. He was pulling me in. Drawing me into him like a riptide that threatened to drown me before I even knew I was in over my head. He flicked my hair over my shoulder and slid his finger under the strap of my bag. His fingertips skimming along the skin near my collar bone. “It’s on the button on your bag,” he said, his lips a whisper’s breath away from mine before he pulled back and strode past me back into the locker room.

I was left reeling, nearly toppling over at his sudden exit. It was like all the air left the room with him. I pulled the shoulder strap of my bag back and stared at the button Dahlia’d bought me at a street fair a while ago. ‘Hi, I’m Rachel’ laid out in bright pink with dancing peonies surrounding it. Well done, sleuth.

I barely contained the urge to smack myself on the forehead. I’d already made such a fool of myself. I didn’t know if I should just stick my tail between my legs and tell Mr. Thayer I couldn’t find anything, or to push on.

I peeked around the corner of the shower and he was sliding his pants on and buckling his belt. I didn’t know if I was relieved or disappointed. When he rolled his t-shirt on over those defined abs, I knew it was definitely disappointment. He sat on the bench and slid on his shoes.

“Did you get everything you needed, sweetheart?” he said, not looking up. And there it was again. The pounding, throbbing was back when he called me that.

“I have a few more questions. Maybe I could visit you in your office to finish this up?” I suggested, trying to buy more time. I was hoping to get an in, so I could figure this out.

“How about you try to keep up with me, and I’ll see if you get to ask me any more questions,” he said, sliding in, coat on, grabbing his bag, and heading out of the locker room. I scrambled to keep up. I wasn’t going to lose track of him now. I wouldn’t give up, no matter where I had to follow him.