Page 24 of Natural Temptation

I slip into the far corner of the room, leaning back against the wall with my ankles crossed. It's a comfortable pose, one that lets me observe without drawing attention. Maya speaks in a soothing yet confident as guides the group. I'm proud of how she's grown into her role so quickly.

"Ryan!" Lila's voice cuts through my thoughts. She grins and winks. "Why don't you hop up on the table? I'll give you a deep tissue massage."

I shake my head. "Thanks, but I'll pass. I'm just here to observe. And I'm on duty, anyway."

My gaze flicks to Meredith, and I can't help hoping she'll offer to rub me down instead. God, what I wouldn't give to feel her hands on me again like she'd done the other night when we pleasured each other in her bungalow. But that's exactly why I can't let it happen. If she touches me, even innocently, I'll be harder than the coral reefs that surround our little island paradise.

"Don't be shy, Ryan," Lila teases. "You're so tense. Let me work out those knots."

I wave her off, grateful for the loose-fitting shirt that hides my body's reaction to the very thought of Meredith's touch. "Really, I'm good. You guys carry on."

My gaze is drawn back to Meredith like a magnet. She's listening intently to Maya's instructions, nodding along with every new lesson. A stray lock of hair falls across her face, and I have to physically restrain myself from rushing over there to brush it back.

Shit, what is wrong with me? I'm acting like a horny teenage virgin. Time to get out of here before I drag Meredith down to the floor and do something that will surely get me fired.

"I should get back to work," I mutter, more to myself than anyone else. "Enjoy the workshop, everyone."

As I escape out the door, I catch one last glimpse of Meredith. She looks up, our eyes meeting for a brief, electric moment. The gentle strains of a ukulele float through the air thanks to the band I'd hired. They sound great. Despite my feet trying to lead me away from the massage workshop, I can't help but peek back into the workshop room. Meredith's eyes are closed, her face the picture of serenity.

Maya's soothing voice guides the group. "Breathe deeply, letting the tension melt away with every exhalation. In, out. In, out."

I watch, mesmerized, as Meredith's chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. God, she's beautiful. The urge to join her, to feel her hands on me, is almost overwhelming.

"Get it together, dumbass," I grumble to myself, ordering my feet to move. "Back to work. You know, the thing you get paid to do."

I shuffle back to my office and wind up knee-deep in invoices once again. When there's a knock at the door, I leap out of my chair. Anything to escape the drudge work. I call out, grateful for the distraction. "Come on in."

A couple shuffles in, their skin an angry shade of lobster red.Ouch. I guess these two didn't read the welcome packet closely enough.

"Mr. Kimble," the woman begins, "we fell asleep on the beach and—"

"Say no more," I interrupt, already reaching for the aloe vera gel I keep stocked for just such occasions. "Let's get you taken care of."

As I'm explaining the best practices for applying aloe to soothe and cool their scorched shoulders, my walkie-talkie crackles to life.

"Ryan, we've got a situation at bungalow twelve," Emilio informs me. "It's a guest with a rather, um...delicate issue. Could you help out, mate?"

I sigh inwardly. No rest for the jerk who keeps fantasizing about a guest. I've just finished up with the sunburned couple, anyway. "Be there pronto, Emilio."

As it turns out, bungalow twelve houses a burly man with an angry-looking rash in places I'd rather not think about. Emilio is blushing and squinting at the same time, like he can't quite convince himself to look at the poor guy.

"It's not contagious," he assures me, scratching furiously. "But damn, is it uncomfortable."

"No problem. I've got just the thing," I tell him, thankful for my extensive first-aid training. As I'm handing him a tube of anti-itch cream, my walkie-talkie crackles again.

"Ryan, the miniten net's down," Marley reports. "A gust of wind snatched it away. We're all tied up with other guests at the moment."

"I'll handle it," I reply, already heading for the door. So much for a quiet afternoon of paperwork.

As I'm jogging toward the miniten court, a flash of brown hair catches my eye. Meredith. She's walking down the main trail toward the beach, a towel slung over her shoulder. Before I can stop myself, I'm veering off course, following her at a discreet distance. The rational part of my brain screams that this is a bad idea, but I can't seem to help myself.

"What are you doing, dumbass?" I mutter under my breath. "You're supposed to be fixing the net, not stalking guests."

But even as I chastise myself, I can't tear my gaze away from Meredith's retreating figure. The sway of her hips, the bounce of her hair, it's like catnip to me. I'm so caught up in spying on her that I nearly trip over a root.Smooth, Kimble. Real smooth.Shaking my head, I force myself to turn back toward the miniten court.

Work first, fantasies later.

But even as I set about fixing the net, my thoughts keep drifting back to Meredith, wondering what she's doing on the beach, imagining her stretched out on the sand...This woman is going to be the death of me, I swear. The moment I finish my task, I realize it's time for my mid-afternoon break. That gives me a perfect excuse to hunt for a certain guest.

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