Genuine Lies

erected to worship the smug-faced god of sweat.
    The floor was a glossily polished parquet, and a gleaming smoked-glass wet bar, complete with refrigerator and microwave, took up another wall. Music cartwheeled out of a high-tech stereo system flanked by potted begonias and towering ficus trees.
    Standing beside Eve as she lay on a weight bench doing leg curls was Mr. Muscle. Temporarily mesmerized, Julia let out a long breath as she looked at him. He had to be nearly seven feet—a Nordic god whose bronze body bulged out of an incredibly brief unitard. The single white band stretched low on his gleaming chest, snaked down his hips, rode high and tight over a very muscular set of buns.
    His golden blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, his ice-blue eyes smiling approval as Eve’s curses turned the air a deeper, much hotter blue.
    “Fuck this, Fritz.”
    “Five more, my beautiful flower,” he said in precise, musical English that had images of cool lakes and mountain streams dancing in Julia’s mind.
    “You’re killing me.”
    “I make you strong.” As she huffed her way through the last of the curls, he laid a huge hand on her thigh and squeezed. “You have the muscle tone of a thirty-year-old.” Then he gave her bottom an intimate little rub.
    Dripping sweat, Eve collapsed. “If I ever walk again, I’m going to kick you right in your enormous crotch.”
    He laughed, patted her again, then grinned over at Julia. “Hello.”
    Barely, she managed to swallow. Eve’s last comment had lured Julia’s gaze down so that she’d seen for herself theadjective hadn’t been an exaggeration. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to interrupt.”
    Eve managed to open her eyes. If she’d had the energy, she would have chuckled. Most women got that slack-jawed, dazed look after their first load of Fritz. She was glad Julia wasn’t immune. “Thank God. Travers, pour me something very cold—and put some arsenic in it for my friend here.”
    Fritz laughed again, a deep, cheerful sound that bounded easily over Eve’s creative curses. “You drink a little, then we work on your arms. You don’t want the skin hanging down like turkey’s.”
    “I can come back,” Julia began as Eve turned over. “No, stay. He’s almost through torturing me. Aren’t you, Fritz?”
    “Almost done.” He took the drink Travers offered and downed it in one gulp before she had shuffled out the door. While Eve mopped her face with a towel, he studied Julia. The look in his eyes made her uneasy. Brandon’s took on the same light when he was offered a nice, pliant lump of modeling clay. “You have good legs. You work out?”
    “Well, no.” A dastardly admonition in southern California, she realized. People had been hanged for less. She was wondering if she should apologize, when he crossed to her and began to feel her arms. “Hey, look—”
    “Skinny arms.” Her mouth fell open when he ran his hands over her stomach. “Good abs. We can fix you up.”
    “Thank you.” He had fingers like rods of iron, and she didn’t want to rile him. “But I really don’t have time.”
    “You must make time for your body,” he said so seriously, she swallowed the nervous laugh. “You come on Monday, I start you off.”
    “I really don’t think—”
    “An excellent idea,” Eve put in. “I hate to be tortured alone.” She grimaced as Fritz set the weights on the Nautilus for her arm work. “Have a seat, Julia. You can talk to me and take my mind off my misery.”
    “Monday, my ass,” Julia muttered.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    She smiled as Eve got in the next position for pain. “I said I wonder if the weather will last.”
    Eve, who had heard her very well the first time, merely lifted a brow. “That’s what I thought you said.” Once she was settled, Eve took a cleansing breath and began to pull the weights toward the center of her body, and out. “You enjoyed yourself last night?”
    “Yes, thank you.”
    “So polite.” She shot a grin at Fritz. “She wouldn’t swear at you.”
    Julia watched Eve’s muscles bunch and strain. Sweat was popping out again. “Oh yes I would.”
    Eve laughed even as the effort slicked wet down her flesh. “You know the trouble with being beautiful, Julia? Everyone notices the least little flaw—they relish finding them. So you have to maintain.” Straining at the tense and flow of her own muscles, she sucked in air and puffed it out. “Like a religion. I’m determined to do the best