You'd seen Simon Riley many times before. But there was a difference between seeing him and truly seeing him. Today was one of those moments. He was standing in the gym, the light shining down on his body, tracing every contour of his muscles. His shirt clung slightly to his skin from the workout, and you could see his back move beneath the fabric as he stretched. His arms were massive, not just sculpted, but militarily strong, as if they were made for battle, not gyms.

You just wanted to walk quickly across the room. But then your breathing started to falter. Asthma. It always began with a tight pressure in your chest, as if someone were slowly squeezing your lungs. You stopped, trying to stay calm, but your breathing quickened.

Of course, Simon noticed immediately. He turned around. His eyes locked onto you instantly, alert like a soldier, aware of every change in his surroundings. In two strides, he was beside you.

And those two steps were enough to remind you just how tall and muscular this man really was. His chest rose and fell smoothly from his workout, his arms looking almost ridiculously strong next to your slimmer frame.

"Asthma?" he asked tersely. You nodded.