It was eight A.M. and Talia was sure Mark was still in bed and she hoped he would be for a few hours. Just in case, she eased herself onto the weight machine.

Her leg had ached unbelievably that morning but she'd coaxed it into a working condition with a hot bath and some medicinal help, before limping down two flights of stairs and making a beeline for the lat machine.

She needed to keep up with her training or the four or five days of healing her thigh would be a major setback.

She laid back on the machine, starting with a light bench press to warm up, then gradually increasing her weight and lowering her reps. She didn't want to do her maximum weight without a spotter and she definitely wouldn't ask Mark. He'd order her straight upstairs to the couch.

"Talia!" He said her name forcefully, as if catching her in the act and she sat up so quickly, she nearly knocked herself silly on the bar.

"Geez, big guy, you scared me." She tried not to look guilty. She figured this conversation wasn't going to end in her favor.

He had a cup of coffee in his hand, steam curling over the top of the white porcelain mug. "You don't give up, do you."

She looked up at him. "I can't." Or they would win.

He just frowned and pulled up a folding chair, sighing heavily. "What am I gonna do with you?"

She flashed him a million-dollar grin. "Love me, cause I'm so cute!" Her voice had taken on a child-like quality she knew would make him laugh, and she joined in when it had the desired effect.

He shook his head at her. "I don't know about cute. More like vicious."

She chuckled, nodding her agreement. "How did you know I was up?"

"Well, it could've been the loud crash against the hallway wall at six o'clock, or the whispered cussing down the staircase that was, by the way, quite colorful, or the creaking of the floor, all of which you were trying to hide."

She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I was trying to be quiet."

He smirked. "I know." He paused then his grin grew a little. "I was already up. And you, Talia Delaney, are about as subtle as a tornado."

She just shrugged. "I'm as big as an ogre, may as well do everything else like one."

He actually rolled his eyes, something she had never seen him do besides the usually Deadman tricks. He stood suddenly, lifting her from the padded seat of the weight machine and draped her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, mindful of her injury.

She sighed against his back. "Where are you taking me?"

"Breakfast."

She relaxed, enjoying the ride, secretly relieved that she wasn't going to have to climb those stairs.

Cradling her back with his palms, he sat her gently in a chair, his eyes catching her gaze and holding it captive.

He just looked at her, his expression soft, for a breathless few seconds before abruptly turning away and clearing his throat.

Wow, Talia thought, trying to catch her breath. Whatever that was, it was intense.

-

Alright, Calaway, get a grip.

Mark quickly stuck his nose in the fridge, hoping the cold blast would clear his head.

She had no idea how close she'd come to being thoroughly kissed, long and hard, on that tempting mouth.

His self control wasn't neverending and he was working against himself. He wanted what his conscience told him he couldn't have, and he wasn't one to take no for an answer.

Quickly, he pulled the juice and milk out of the fridge, setting them on the table, then going back to the counter to make French toast with cheese, gravy and sausages.

When he finally sat down to eat, he'd managed to get himself under control and they shared conversation over their plates.

"You think you're going back downstairs like that?"

"Yep." A little smile was tickling the edges of her lips, but he knew she was serious.

He looked at her pointedly. "It won't heal like that, Talia."

"It won't stop me from working the rest of my body."

They finished their food in silence and Talia limped toward the basement door. Mark cut her off, making her put her hands on her hips in exasperation.

"You're forbidden from the gym until your leg heals, little girl."

"Mark!"

"You'll thank me later in your career. And no more up and down the stairs, or I swear, I'll tie you to a chair." He lifted her easily in his arms, enjoying the feel of her more than he should have.

"Mark Luke Calaway, put me down, or you're gonna get it!"

He just chuckled, carrying her to the plush couch in the den. He sat her down, pointing his finger at her. "Stay put."

As soon as he moved toward the door, intent on going and locking the basement door, she stood.

He shook his head. He should've known. He and that girl were identical in action and that's what he would've done.

"Talia," he warned.

She ignored him.

He went to her, returning her to the couch.

She crossed her arms, turning her face away from him with a frown.

He swiftly moved through the house, locking the door, then rejoining her in the den.

She was seated just as he left her and a stab of guilt passed through him. He hated it when she was mad at him.

With a heavy sigh, he sat beside her. "Why are you fighting me, Talia?"

"You're treating me like a child," she said quietly, still not looking at him.

"You're being unreasonable," he countered, maintaining his temper, letting her explain herself before he blew up.

She looked at him. "How am I being unreasonable?"

"If you don't let that injury heal, it will get worse until it tears. Then you'll have to have surgery. Rehabbing a surgically repaired quadricep femorus muscle is six months to a year." He saw the resignation in her eyes and knew he'd won. "A few days of rest is better than a year, don't you think?"

"I hate sitting here. I feel useless."

He wrapped an arm around her and gave her a squeeze. "I plan to relax for the rest of my vacation, so we'll sit here and be useless together."

"I suppose." She smiled up at him and he knew he was forgiven.