Physical Touch Read Online Free
Author: Sierra Hill
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Shit , she thought, so much for piece of cake .
CHAPTER Two
Mitch wasn’t happy about spending the next seven to eight weeks going through the boring and painful experience of physical therapy. He was a man of little patience and the thought of having a therapist tell him what to do and how to do it was unnerving.
Throughout the last ten years, Mitch called the shots and told others what to do. He was tough, both physically and mentally, building his business from the ground up. Camden Ventures was his dream, born in his college dorm room his senior year at Yale. With a love of the outdoors, coupled with a desire to build eco-friendly construction, he made his business proposal to his father, leaning on his financial backing and business savvy. His father, Mitchell Sr., who loved the idea and knew his son would find a way to get him the return on investment, gave him a proud pat on the back and the one million dollar capital investment needed to get the business up and running. Mitch tripled the money within a year. He’d done it with hard work, dedication and a risk-taking mental fortitude. No one told him what to do, pushed him around, or got in his way.
He hadn’t expected his annual ski trip to Solden, Austria to do just that. Smack in the middle of the Kendall project, he had already been laid up for a week after the arthroscopic surgery on his knee and was still having to walk around on crutches like an invalid. He had no time to be hobbling from one place to another, much less spend two hours a day in a therapy clinic being bossed around like a child by some doctor-wannabe.
As he finished up the patient paperwork he’d been working on, he lifted his head just as she rounded the corner. If it wasn’t Little Miss Trash Talker, in the flesh. Well, well, well .
He wasn’t all that surprised to see her, it just wasn’t the time or place he had intended. Last night after meeting the little spitfire, he had grilled Mark about the auburn-haired beauty, who so callously kicked his ass in football trivia.
He was immediately intrigued by her spunk and taken back by her quick wit. No one to be trifled with, that’s for certain. She was a challenge to his ego and seemed to be resistant to his blatant charms. That rarely happened. In fact, had it ever happened?
Hell no .
So he was in a bit of a shock when she just upped and left him hanging there, without her number or a way to contact her again, immediately immersing herself with a group a friends the remainder of the night, giving him no chance to seek her out again. But that didn’t stop Mitch from getting the low-down on Rylie Hemmons.
And now here she was, walking toward him looking equal parts confused and appalled, appearing stuck between bolting out of the room and charging at him at full steam. Instead, she surprised him even more when she straightened her shoulders and stepped forward, her expression turning uber-professional, extending her right hand in greeting.
“Mr. Camden. How very nice to meet again. I now can call you by an actual name,” she said, shaking his hand firmly. Quickly dropping his hand, he noticed her hand tightly fist into a ball. He smiled at her unintentional, but very visible, outward response to his possibly unwanted appearance in her clinic.
“I’m Rylie Hemmons, your physical therapist. I’ll be responsible for your recovery and therapy over the next few weeks. Why don’t I give you some time to finish your paperwork and then you can go change. There’s a locker room right over there.” She pointed toward the wall near the front and then paused for the briefest second to give him a once over, taking in his sharply tailored, gray Giorgio Armani suit. He let her have her moment, knowing most women liked a man in a fitted suit. But judging from her blank facial expression, she seemed to be somewhat annoyed by his attire. Maybe she secretly wanted him undressed and on top of her. Now that would take
Shit , she thought, so much for piece of cake .
CHAPTER Two
Mitch wasn’t happy about spending the next seven to eight weeks going through the boring and painful experience of physical therapy. He was a man of little patience and the thought of having a therapist tell him what to do and how to do it was unnerving.
Throughout the last ten years, Mitch called the shots and told others what to do. He was tough, both physically and mentally, building his business from the ground up. Camden Ventures was his dream, born in his college dorm room his senior year at Yale. With a love of the outdoors, coupled with a desire to build eco-friendly construction, he made his business proposal to his father, leaning on his financial backing and business savvy. His father, Mitchell Sr., who loved the idea and knew his son would find a way to get him the return on investment, gave him a proud pat on the back and the one million dollar capital investment needed to get the business up and running. Mitch tripled the money within a year. He’d done it with hard work, dedication and a risk-taking mental fortitude. No one told him what to do, pushed him around, or got in his way.
He hadn’t expected his annual ski trip to Solden, Austria to do just that. Smack in the middle of the Kendall project, he had already been laid up for a week after the arthroscopic surgery on his knee and was still having to walk around on crutches like an invalid. He had no time to be hobbling from one place to another, much less spend two hours a day in a therapy clinic being bossed around like a child by some doctor-wannabe.
As he finished up the patient paperwork he’d been working on, he lifted his head just as she rounded the corner. If it wasn’t Little Miss Trash Talker, in the flesh. Well, well, well .
He wasn’t all that surprised to see her, it just wasn’t the time or place he had intended. Last night after meeting the little spitfire, he had grilled Mark about the auburn-haired beauty, who so callously kicked his ass in football trivia.
He was immediately intrigued by her spunk and taken back by her quick wit. No one to be trifled with, that’s for certain. She was a challenge to his ego and seemed to be resistant to his blatant charms. That rarely happened. In fact, had it ever happened?
Hell no .
So he was in a bit of a shock when she just upped and left him hanging there, without her number or a way to contact her again, immediately immersing herself with a group a friends the remainder of the night, giving him no chance to seek her out again. But that didn’t stop Mitch from getting the low-down on Rylie Hemmons.
And now here she was, walking toward him looking equal parts confused and appalled, appearing stuck between bolting out of the room and charging at him at full steam. Instead, she surprised him even more when she straightened her shoulders and stepped forward, her expression turning uber-professional, extending her right hand in greeting.
“Mr. Camden. How very nice to meet again. I now can call you by an actual name,” she said, shaking his hand firmly. Quickly dropping his hand, he noticed her hand tightly fist into a ball. He smiled at her unintentional, but very visible, outward response to his possibly unwanted appearance in her clinic.
“I’m Rylie Hemmons, your physical therapist. I’ll be responsible for your recovery and therapy over the next few weeks. Why don’t I give you some time to finish your paperwork and then you can go change. There’s a locker room right over there.” She pointed toward the wall near the front and then paused for the briefest second to give him a once over, taking in his sharply tailored, gray Giorgio Armani suit. He let her have her moment, knowing most women liked a man in a fitted suit. But judging from her blank facial expression, she seemed to be somewhat annoyed by his attire. Maybe she secretly wanted him undressed and on top of her. Now that would take
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