The Mummy Makeover / Mummy for Hire: The Mummy Makeover / Mummy for Hire

She did a quick mental calculation. “You’d have to be darn good to whip me into shape in five sessions.”

“That’s for an entire month, which means at least twenty sessions. And I am good.” He said it with all the assurance of a man who had no qualms about selling his skills, and not necessarily those limited to the fitness field. “But a lot will depend on your commitment after we’re finished working together. I’d be willing to throw in a six-month membership at one of my clubs.”

Erica would rather drink salt doused with vinegar than walk into a room full of nubile young women. “I’m not overly fond of gyms these days.”

“The sessions will have to take place at the gym.” He took a quick glance around the small den. “Unless you have your own equipment around here somewhere.”

She had a stationary bicycle gathering dust in the garage, but that was the extent of her equipment. “No, I don’t. But I really hate the thought of working out with a bunch of people looking on.”

“That’s not a problem,” he said. “I have my own fully equipped, private area that I’d be glad to let you use until you’re more comfortable.”

“How convenient.” Both for him and all the other women he’d probably enticed into an intimate workout. Erica could just imagine it now—a few free weights, a few minutes on the rowing machine, a lot of cardio under the supervision of a guy who probably had the means to send a heart rate to maximum level in minimal time. The vision bouncing around in her head gave a whole new meaning to the term push-ups.

Shaking the unwelcome fantasy away, she said, “I’m still not ready to agree to this.”

Oddly, he looked almost disappointed. “Suit yourself, but you’re missing a prime opportunity. I don’t make this offer to just anyone.”

“You’re doing it for my child, remember?”

“Yeah, but I see potential in you.” He raked his gaze down her body again—slowly. “A lot of potential, if you have the guts to see this through.”

The challenge in his sexy voice and seductive eyes made her want to twitch and throw herself at him like some crazed hormonal harpy.

Erica led him out of the den and strode to the door, holding it open before she agreed for all the wrong reasons. “Tell you what. I’ll let you know in a few days.”

“Don’t take too long,” he said as he stepped onto the porch. “I’ve got a business to run and my time is in demand.”

She just bet it was.

Erica felt a brush against her ankle and looked down to find the family cat winding his way through her legs. She bent, picked up the gray tabby and held him like a baby. “I was wondering where you were, Diner.”

Kieran frowned. “Diner?”

“We found him behind a diner where we stopped for lunch on our way back from a trip to Oklahoma. He was scrawny and underfed, so we brought him with us, took him to the vet and got his mind off the girls.”

“You had him neutered.”

“Yes. Amazing how a simple procedure can improve a male attitude.”

He looked pained. “Do you apply that practice with all men?”

She laughed. “Only alley cats, so don’t worry.”

“That’s good to know. Otherwise, I might rescind the offer.” He stepped off the porch and began to back down the walkway. “I expect to have an answer in two days.”

A demanding kind of guy, which might have ticked Erica off if he hadn’t smiled again. “Fine. I’ll call you in two days.”

“You do that.”

While Erica remained planted firmly on the porch, Kieran turned and strolled to the sleek black sports car parked at the curb. She couldn’t make out the model in the dark, but she presumed it probably cost as much as her modest three-bedroom house. And although she should go back inside, she waited until he was safely seated behind the wheel and well on his way down the street.

As tempting as Kieran’s proposal might be—as tempting as he was—she didn’t need any one-on-one program to help her lose weight. She could buy a DVD and some hand weights. She’d take a daily walk to get reacquainted with endorphins. She’d stop eating to fill the void.

But tonight, before she crawled into her vacant bed, Erica planned to treat herself to several slices of pizza. At least that would take care of one craving.

Chapter Two

“I need to ask a favor, dear.”

Just when Kieran had claimed a spot on his sister’s sofa to let his mother’s Armenian cooking adequately digest, he’d been called into action by the tiny woman with a big heart. Normally he never refused Lucine O’Brien anything, but he could think of one thing in particular he wouldn’t do for anyone, not even his mother. “If you want me to call Kevin and tell him he needs to be at lunch Sunday, forget it, Mom.”

She wiped her hands on her apron and perched beside him on the cushion’s edge. “I wish you two got along better.”

Here it came, the blood-is-thicker-than-water speech. “The problem I have with Kevin has to do with his bad choices, and he’s chosen not to come around. I can’t change him, and neither can you.” After spending most of his life cleaning up his twin brother’s messes, Kieran had given up on that lost cause several years ago.

“Could you just hear me out, honey?”

Driven by family loyalty, he reached for the remote and muted the TV. “Okay, I’m listening.”

She shifted slightly to face him and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m worried about Kevin. I don’t think he’s well.”

Nothing new there. Kevin had been born the sickly twin and their mother still worried about him incessantly, even after thirty-plus years. “Why do you think that?”

“He seems tired to me,” Lucy said. “And pale.”

“He’s tired because it’s a big job, traveling all around the country to interview sports figures.” And having a woman in every port, Kieran thought. Probably every airport, too.

She laid a hand on his arm. “I’d still like you to visit him and see for yourself.”

That wasn’t something Kieran had the time, or the desire, to do. “Let Mallory check on him.”

“Did I hear someone mention my name?”

Kieran glanced back to find his sister strolling into the den, a rag sporting the remnants of strained carrots thrown over one shoulder. “Damn, you have good ears, Mallory.”

“Watch your language, young man.”

His mother’s tone alone had been known to instill fear in many a tough guy, including his four brothers and her own husband, who was snoring like a power drill in the nearby lounger. “Sorry,” Kieran muttered like a reprimanded twelve-year-old, not a thirty-four-year-old man.

“I was asking your brother to see about Kevin,” Lucy said. “He somehow believes you should have that responsibility.”

Mallory perched on the sofa’s arm. “Whit and I had dinner with Kevin a couple of months ago, as a matter of fact, so it’s your turn.”

Kieran couldn’t quell his suspicions—justifiable suspicions. “I’m guessing he did something that required reinforcements.”

“Actually, he wanted us to meet his new girlfriend,” Mallory said.

“The pro cheerleader?” The same cheerleader Kevin had used as a replacement for his former fiancée, Kieran surmised.