“Now, Preslee.” His command held bite.

Stupid drill sergeant wannabe. Why wasn’t he off running a boot camp for troubled teens or something? Maybe then he’d leave her alone and let her die in peace.

She groaned and shoved to her feet, every cell inside her body screaming at her to ignore him and stay down. But if she did, he’d blow that dumb whistle again. Her poor ears begged for her to follow his instructions. “Fine, I’m up. What do you want me to do?”

His mouth curved. “Lean over the back of the bench and kick your legs out behind you to do leg lifts. It’ll enhance your flexibility and range of motion in your joints while also safely decreasing the intensity of your workout by gradually lowering your heart rate and blood pressure. I don’t want either of them to drop too rapidly or you could faint.”

Huh. Well, if he was that worried about her fainting, then maybe he shouldn’t take off his shirt during their workout. Besides, fainting didn’t sound all that bad. If she passed out, at least she’d be back on the ground again. “How many?”

“Three sets of twelve on each leg. Keep your back straight and your legs fully extended as you lift them behind you. Nice and slow. Don’t bend the knee.”

Preslee took position and began. The faster she got them done, the quicker she could fall back to the ground and resume her slow death.

It was strange though. She’d expected exercising and sweating in front of Adam to be an awkward and unpleasant endeavor. But after he’d stretched with her during warm-up, jogged beside her in the park, did the exercises—or some variation of them—beside her, and then annoyed her with the whistle, she hadn’t thought twice about being embarrassed.

Something about him obviously put her at ease. She dared to say that she was even somewhat comfortable around him. More so than she thought possible. Well, at least until he began removing clothing. But that would’ve thrown any woman off.

Adam maneuvered around to the front of the bench and sat on the edge, facing away from her. Bracing his shirtless body with both hands on the seat, he slid his butt off the edge and let all of his weight reside in the strength of his arms. Then he proceeded to do deep bench dips that would’ve broken both of her arms off had she attempted them.

The guy was seriously strong. Even the tight control he had on his breathing while working out was admirable. Especially since her labored breaths sounded like a dehydrated wildebeest slogging through thick mud.

After only a few leg lifts, her thighs burned and trembled with each motion, and she silently considered pleading for mercy. As if he read her mind, he said, “Keep going.”