Preslee stepped on the digital scale timidly, biting her bottom lip as a bright pink hue flooded her cheeks. The moment her weight popped up on the screen, she released a distressed squeak and jumped off the scale as if it were a land mine. If he hadn’t been paying close attention, he wouldn’t have even had time to read the number before she leaped off.

Not wanting her to be embarrassed, he lifted his clipboard and nonchalantly wrote down her weight. “Okay, let’s move on.”

At first, she looked confused, her forehead crinkling, as if she expected him to comment on her weight. But she must’ve realized that he wasn’t going to, and her body relaxed, a slight smile stretching her lips. “All right.”

He clicked his pen. “How much weight would you like to lose?”

Her eyes widened. “I have to tell you that too?”

Oh dear God. This woman. His fingers tightened on the clipboard. “Of course. Somehow you’re missing the part where I signed on to be your trainer. How am I going to help you reach your goals if I don’t know what they are?”

She considered it for a moment and then blew out a breath. “All right. I, uh, was thinking I’d like to start off with losing, um…forty pounds or so.” She winced, as if saying the words out loud had been painful.

Start off with? Adam’s discerning gaze swept over her voluptuous figure, scrutinizing every inch of her body. While it would be possible for her to drop that much weight, the thought of her losing some of those magnificent curves bothered him. More than it probably should.

Then his eyes fell on a small wicker basket sitting on the floor next to the tub. Inside was a pink loofah, an inflatable pillow, and several white votive candles. The thought of Preslee’s curvy body nestled in a warm, candlelit bubble bath, water lapping at her full breasts as she rubbed the rough loofah between her soft, womanly thighs, had him stifling a thick groan.

Whoa. Wait a minute. Where the hell did that come from?

He mentally smacked himself. Damn it. She was his client. He shouldn’t be picturing her naked…even if it was one hell of a visual.

Adam ran his hand through his hair as he shifted his weight subtly to adjust himself. He glanced back at Preslee, focusing hard to keep his thoughts from going to the wayside again. “Okay, forty pounds is your goal. But as we progress, if I think for one second that you’re losing too much, I’m going to speak up.” Even if that meant forfeiting the bet.

Preslee nodded. “All right.”