Suddenly Cinderella Bundle by Hope Tarr

Author:Hope Tarr
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cinderella, fairy tale, cook, chef, CEO, romance, hope tarr
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2013-12-18T00:00:00+00:00

At a more civilized hour, Venice Beach would have been glutted with street vendors and performers—break-dancers, broken glass walkers, mimes to musicians, jugglers to jesters, the beach itself dominated by flexing bodybuilders. But at just after 6:00 a.m., Ocean Pathway was deserted, the shops and restaurants still shuttered. Even the Muscle Beach Pit was empty of all but a few iron-pumping early risers, which probably had a lot to do with why Francesca had chosen it.

Struggling through his second set of sit-ups in the sandbox, Greg stopped, whipped off his baseball cap, and swiped it across his sopping forehead. “Can I stop now?” he asked, hunching forward over his burning abdomen. He could guess her answer but hell, it was worth a shot.

Standing outside the turquoise gate, her face obscured by large-framed sunglasses and a baseball cap pulled low, Francesca shook her head. “No.”

With her face makeup-free and her hair pulled back in a ponytail beneath the cap, she looked more like a college coed than the internationally famous fashion sophisticate. A soft pink V-necked cotton T-shirt and cropped black yoga pants complemented her figure, reed-slender and yet sexily curved. Covertly watching those curves on the light jog over from the beach parking lot had done more to keep his eyes open and his legs peddling than any cup of coffee could have.

“Can I take a break at least?”

“No! There isn’t time for lollygagging.”

“Lollygagging?” Greg mimicked, stretching out his arms and touching his toes. Her Briticisms had annoyed him at first but lately he was finding them, and her, super cute.

She glared—or at least he thought she did. Her sunglasses were too tinted for him to tell. “Haven’t you ever heard, ‘No pain, no gain’?”

Greg groaned. “Don’t worry, I’m in pain all right.”

The pull-ups he’d completed earlier had left his arms feeling as limp as cooked spaghetti. Ditto for the squats and leg presses meant to strengthen his calves and quads. Thanks to them, his legs were leaden.

“And keep your cap on,” she warned.

Greg folded his arms over his chest, wishing he could will it to widen. “It’s six o’clock in the morning. I’m pretty sure it’s basically us, the Hulk Hogan clone over there, and some seagulls.” Still, she was right. Reminded of all they were risking, he put the stupid hat back on.

He did another twenty sit-ups before moving on to more squats. Halfway through, his stomach protested with a growl. Stopping, he sat up and cut Francesca a look. “Look, I get the ‘no pain, no gain’ part, but I’m hungry. More than hungry, this machine needs fuel, and Muscle Milk and PowerBars aren’t cutting it.”

Her pretty mouth, devoid of lipstick, turned down. Her sigh reached him from outside the fencing. “Honestly, you’re worse than an infant. My daughter complained less when she was three.” She opened the gate and entered. “Oh, very well, finish this set and we’ll grab a bite.”

“Can there be jelly doughnuts?” he asked, straightening stiffly.

“For you, yes. For me, tea—or perhaps a cappuccino, assuming anything’s open.

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