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be right back.” A low male voice answered before she left the room and closed the door behind her , then moved to the desk. “So who called?”
    “Sorry, but it’s the man in your life. I’m afraid he’s broken his leg.” Shelby waited for the worried explosion sure to follow. Denise was fanatical about her man.
    “Oh my God! Cupcake! What happened? Was that my mother?”
    “Yeah. Your mom said he must have gotten loose somehow and ran out of the yard. A car d riving at the speed limit hit him , so he’s not too roughed up . I know you’ll want to see how he’s doing. Why don’t you go , and I’ll finish up your client?”
    Denise had tears in her eyes. Cupcake meant the world to her. A scrawny mutt she’d picked up at the pound, he’d been with her through thick and thin. “Are you sure?” Denise wip ed her eyes.
    Shelby handed Denise her car keys from the desk and nodded. “Go on home. Gi ve me a call later and let me know how he’s doing.”
    Denise flew out the door , and Shelby shook her head. She prayed, for Denise’s peace of mind, th at th e dog would make it.
    Realizing she now had a client to pacify, she quickly moved into the bathroom to wash her hands and returned to her room. She entered to the soothing sounds of new age music and the slight aroma of jasmine from the burning candles in the corner. Dim yet peaceful, the room radiated serenity and relaxation.
    “I’m sorry about the interruption,” she said quietly to the man lying on his stomach with his head down and resting in the doughnut- shaped pillow which allowed for ease of breathing . He appeared almost asleep, his back rising and falling evenly, but he mumbled something she couldn’t quite hear. Before she could say anything more , he turned his head to the side, his eyes still closed.
    Shelby barely contained her dismay. Upon her table la y the half-naked form of Mr. Tall, Dark , and Rude from this morning, his upper body bare, a sheet draped over his lower back , buttocks, and legs. She glanced at the clothing rack on the wall to confirm his identity. The same black jacket and dark trousers hung from a hook, along with a blue shirt.
    She stared back down at him and resisted the urge to lean into his ear and yell at him to get the hell out of her clinic. That would scare the impoliteness out of him. But her professionalism wouldn’t let her. Word of mouth traveled fast , and this guy already didn’t like her. She frowned at the thought of him telling people bad things about her clinic and could almost see the dollar signs flying away.
    Grimacing at his unfairly handsome face, she wondered why he’d ventured into her clinic, of all places. Seattle had more than fifty massage clinics open at any given time, yet Mr. Rude managed to pick hers. Some cosmic joke at work, surely. She swore under her breath .
    “ I’m going to turn your head so you don’t strain your neck.” She t urned his face back into the doughnut- shaped pillow. Frowning at the feel of his skin under her palms, she felt uncomfortable with the heat that raced up her arms. She shook off the strangeness and focused on the rest of the massage.
    As she continued to work on his back, she couldn’t help noticing the smooth muscles and power in his build. He had a very nice body , she thought with objectiv ity . As a person comfortable and familiar with human physiology, she was a good judge of such things. And a person would need to be blind and plain oblivious not to see that this man kept in very good shape. He had wonderful tone and definition . W orking on him was actually very easy due to his fluidity.
    As she brought clinical detachment to the forefront of her thoughts, she scrambled to bury the needy woman inside her screaming to see how his ass might feel under her hands.
    “Does that feel al l right?” she asked softly . S he didn’t want him to know she wasn’t Denise. He needed to get his money’s worth a nd at the same time think positively about