6
“Just three little steps.”
Every muscle in Kayla’s body was burning from pain and fatigue. Rivulets of sweat were pouring between her breasts and down her back, plastering her thin blouse to her hot skin. Her palms were starting to blister from repeatedly sliding them across wood.
“Brigit, please!” she begged, sagging forward. “I’m exhausted!”
Physical therapy could be grueling, but it could also be intensely rewarding. Brigit might hate every moment of the torture, almost as much as her patients did. But the giddy rush of success was worth every agony they both suffered.
“Do you want to walk down that beach?” she demanded, forcing her lilting voice to sound uncommonly harsh.
“Brigit…”
“Do you want to walk down that beach?”
Down the beach, distant cameramen were scurrying around
