“I thought I wasn’t going to have to go to the gym.”

“I said fifty pounds was ridiculous. Twenty, however, is totally doable and it will make you feel better. More confident and sassy. More energetic. Isn’t that right, Karl?” Stacia got a nod from the tongue-tied personal trainer she had hired for Charlie a couple weeks ago. He looked like Thor and was plenty loquacious when it came to snapping orders at Charlie, but whenever the man had to address Stacia, he turned bright red and developed a stutter. Charlie thought it was adorable but Stacia barely seemed to notice.

“Yes,” Karl said, nodding eagerly. “Much more zip.”

“Are you two shitting me? I can barely walk.” The past fourteen days had been a slow descent through Dante’s circles of hell. Karl was inventive and that handsome blond exterior concealed a sadistic heart.

“Give it time. In a couple more weeks you’ll be positively perky.” Stacia turned her head as the door to the gym opened. Her jaw tightened, deepening the hollows in her elegant face.

The man who entered was not quite six feet tall, with close-cropped light brown hair. If she had to describe him, Charlie would have been at a loss, but like he was a magnet, every eye in the gym turned to watch him walk across the room. The men’s gazes quickly fell away, including Karl’s, as he stared at his feet and shifted uneasily. The women had an altogether different reaction. Spines were straightened, chests were thrown out, hair was quickly checked in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors that ran along one wall.

Well, all the women except her and Stacia. Her friend was suddenly looking up at Karl, her normally cool eyes warm, her hand on his shoulder as she leaned into his side, murmuring something about private lessons. What the hell? Stacia couldn’t be any more fit, and she’d never touched another man in Charlie’s presence except Jake. And then only to slap him.

Karl looked like someone had nailed him over the head with a cartoon anvil, nodding at Stacia’s every word. Charlie could almost see the glowing stars and twittering birds over his blond head.

The poor guy looked like he was about to have a fit. But that was nothing compared to the man who was approaching fast. Up close, he was handsome, in a sinister sort of way. His face could have been carved from granite, cool and hard, but his amber eyes were molten with rage. Charlie swallowed, but Stacia didn’t seem to even register his presence. She leaned even closer to Karl, her voice like honey.

The stranger was only an inch or two taller than Stacia herself, but somehow he seemed bigger. Bigger than Karl, who was at least six four. And when he spoke, he seemed to fill the whole room.

“Nastka.” His lightly accented voice wasn’t particularly deep, but it held a note of command that made Charlie’s spine stiffen at once. That wasn’t a tone you ignored. Stacia, however, took her time turning her head, that fall of dark hair rippling almost insolently.

“Lucjan. Are you lost?”

Lucjan? Why did that name sound so . . . Oh.

“You’re Martin’s boss,” Charlie said before she could stop herself. Those piercing eyes turned her way. It was like being slammed against a wall.

“Martin?” He blinked once, then his gaze narrowed. “Ah, yes. Our local medic. You must be Ms. Gracen.”

“Um, yes, I guess I am.” She held out her hand, not sure what else to do. “Thank you. For . . . well, you know.” She didn’t know what else to say. How did one thank a person for somewhat illegal medical care and the diversion of bad guys?

It seemed that her awkward attempt was acceptable. Lucjan smiled, taking her hand with deft grace. But instead of shaking it, he flipped her palm down and brushed his lips over her knuckles. Her eyes widened.

Stacia folded her arms, lips quirking despite her dark expression. Karl hovered at her side like a forgotten puppy.

“You are welcome, Ms. Gracen.” Lucjan dropped her hand and cut his eyes to Stacia. “It is nice to be appreciated.”

Stacia rolled her eyes, her face going hard again. “What the fuck do you want, Lu?”

His lips curved, his gaze trailing up and down Stacia’s body so thoroughly that the temperature in the already steamy gym rose by at least five degrees. Nobody watching could have any doubt of what he wanted. What was just as obvious was his intent to piss Stacia off.

It worked.

Her hand flashed so fast, Charlie almost missed it. Lucjan’s reflexes were faster than hers. He caught Stacia’s hand in his, unsmiling. There was something in his eyes, though, that made Charlie think he was laughing inside.

Stacia must have agreed. “Just tell me why you’re here and get the hell gone.”

He shook his head, pulling her hand to his lips the way he had Charlie’s, only palm up. This time there was nothing gentlemanly about the gesture. Stacia tried to resist, but Lucjan must have been very strong. He nipped the center of her palm instead of kissing it. Stacia flinched, coloring in a way that made Charlie look quickly in the other direction.

“There is no finishing our business until you come home, Nastka.” A heavy sigh. “But until then, I thought you should know, Jake is in London. He had an unexpected flight change, but all is well now.”

Charlie turned back at the sound of Stacia’s indrawn breath. Her face had turned pale and the hand Lucjan held trembled. He pressed his lips against her wrist before releasing her. “I’ll have him back on track shortly, but I didn’t want you to worry if you couldn’t reach him.” His eyes flicked to Charlie. “You know how bad reception can be in airports. It was nice to meet you, Ms. Gracen.” He turned back to Stacia, his gaze turning gentle and dark. “Do następnego razu, moja kochana.”

Stacia watched the door close behind Lucjan, her jaw tight.

“What was that there, at the end?” Charlie asked.

“Mostly a lie.”

“I meant the language.”

“Polish. It’s his native tongue, though he can spread bullshit in at least four others.” Stacia shook her head. “I need to go, Charlie.”

“Why? What’s going on? And what did that mean, a flight change? And that business about cell reception doesn’t make sense. If he could reach Lucjan, why couldn’t he—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Stacia gave her a sharp look. “Everything’s fine. Just keep working. Karl, continue with Charlie’s session.” Without a glance at the man in question, who was still looking shell-shocked, she headed for the door. “I’ll be back to take you home at four.”

Charlie blinked at her retreating figure, then turned her gaze to Karl, who looked annoyed. “Treadmill, thirty minutes,” he snapped.

An hour later, Charlie dragged herself into the hallway, dripping sweat. Karl was a fiend when he was pissed. This was so unfair.

She lifted her head from the drinking fountain, catching the low murmur of voices nearby, one carrying a newly familiar Polish accent. She thought their strange visitor had left. Peeking around the corner, she saw Stacia’s ex with Karl. The bigger man was backed into a corner, looking pale and sweaty. Lucjan had his back to her, but she could make out his words now.

“Do you know what eviscerate means?”

Karl swallowed visibly. “No, but it doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“It is not.” Lucjan’s tone was perfectly calm, but for some reason the fine hairs on the back of Charlie’s neck stood straight up. “You see, someone cuts you—here.” He slashed a hand at Karl’s midsection. The bigger man flinched, his nostrils flaring. “And pulls out your innards through the hole while you watch. And scream.”

His next words were low, so soft Charlie had to lean forward to catch them.

“I’ve never eviscerated a man before, but you so much as look at my wife again, you’ll be the first.”

Lucjan stepped out, leaving Karl to sink to the floor and cover his face with shaking hands. She stared, her mouth half-open. She’d assumed from the way Stace talked about Lucjan—which wasn’t often—that they were divorced. Either they really weren’t . . . or Lucjan hadn’t gotten the memo yet.