Chapter 25: Using Beauty as a Weapon

The next day.

Claire went to work like normal. Neither Lucas nor Julian reached out no texts, no calls, nothing.

They're probably both still licking their wounds, she thought.

Honestly, fine by her. One less thing to manage.

She shut down her computer, grabbed her bag, and headed out.

She parked near a restaurant she liked in the retail strip below her building, had a quiet dinner alone, and headed home for the night.

Once back at her apartment, Claire pulled out a very deliberately chosen workout outfit a fitted, cropped white tank top, low-cut, paired with gray leggings.

The tank clung to every curve. The leggings did the rest of the work, showing off the long, lean line of her legs.

She checked herself in the mirror, tossed her hair back, and smiled at her own reflection.

Flawless, she thought, taking in the whole picture the skin, the figure, the face. No wonder Lucas and Julian both fell so hard, so fast.

If I were a man, she thought, amused, I'd probably fall for me too.

Twenty minutes later, she walked into the gym.

The moment Ethan spotted her, he froze for a solid few seconds, clearly caught off guard.

Claire caught the flicker of interest in his expression and felt her confidence spike.

Ninety percent odds I have this one wrapped up by the end of the night.

She sauntered over, all easy charm. "Hi, Coach Sutton."

Her voice came out warm, deliberately soft.

Ethan snapped out of it fast, his ears going noticeably red, his eyes darting away before landing back on her, then away again.

"Hey."

His breathing hitched slightly, his usual composure clearly rattled.

Claire smiled, delighted.

Interesting. Didn't peg him as the shy type.

Guess the outfit's working exactly as planned.

Even flustered, he was still infuriatingly attractive and honestly, the nerves made him even more endearing.

This is going to be a fun evening.

"Ready when you are," she said cheerfully.

Ethan cleared his throat and turned, walking briskly toward his private training room, moving like a man trying to put some distance between himself and trouble.

Claire bit back a laugh and followed, thoroughly entertained.

As he guided her through her warm-up stretches, his pulse hadn't settled one bit.

He'd been drawn to her from their very first session the effortless polish, the sharp beauty. Tonight, dressed like this, that pull had gotten considerably harder to ignore.

He was disciplined. Professional. But he was also, undeniably, still a man.

Watching her move through her routine tonight was doing absolutely nothing for his concentration.

Claire noticed exactly how tense he'd become, and felt a small flicker of guilt.

Small being the operative word.

Mostly, she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

Flirting shamelessly with attractive men, she thought, really is one of life's great pleasures.

After Lucas and Julian, she'd more or less perfected the art. Confidence helped. So did the fact that both of those men objectively exceptional in every way had still fallen for her completely.

Tonight, Ethan was the target. And she had no intention of losing.

She kept up her routine, pretending not to notice his obvious discomfort.

Ethan, meanwhile, was fighting a losing battle with his own composure. He grabbed his water bottle, looked away, tried to reset.

Then she got on the treadmill, and that plan fell apart entirely.

She kept catching his eye and smiling, which made everything infinitely worse.

She's doing this on purpose, he thought. This should be illegal.

He couldn't exactly walk away from a client mid-session, no matter how much he wanted to.

This, he decided, was easily the most difficult training session of his career.

Claire, for her part, kept turning up the charm at a leisurely pace, watching his reactions with quiet satisfaction.

She was well aware of exactly what she was doing, and she enjoyed every second of it.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, an unwelcome thought about Nathaniel surfaced how he'd thrown away someone like her for someone else entirely.

Typical. All of them, eventually, get bored.

The memory soured her mood instantly, but it also hardened her resolve.

This, she reminded herself, is exactly why I do this. Better to walk away first than get left behind.

She wasn't scared of any of them losing interest.

Not even a little.

If anything, she'd be the one doing the leaving always had been, always would be.

Determined now more than ever, she pushed through the rest of her workout with renewed focus, entirely intent on winning this one over completely.

She kept running, a light sheen of sweat catching the gym lights, her whole demeanor effortlessly magnetic.

Every line of her looked deliberate toned, poised, striking even mid-stride.

Ethan stood off to the side, jaw tight, doing his best not to stare and failing spectacularly.

Whatever she was wearing perfume or just her it was doing him no favors.

Of course, he thought, faintly exasperated with himself. Of course she'd smell just as good as she looks.