Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 59304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“Oh–that’s not how I look, is it? I don’t want to sour the experience for anybody.”
Guilt grips me at the thought that I might have caused her to worry. I squeeze her hand, don’t even think about it. “I was only kidding. My mother was just singing your praises, in fact. I think the only person you look like you want to punch is me.”
She looks down at my hand touching hers, her honey eyes filled with conflict, then pulls away. “You got me soaked this morning.”
Don’t remind me, Siena. I still vividly remember her image, soaked and with her clothes clinging to her. “I think you did that to yourself.”
“It wouldn’t have happened if you’d been a gentleman and fallen in sooner.”
“I’ve been accused of being many things, but never a gentleman.”
She leans forward. “I should get back to work.”
“First, you need to eat something.”
She picks up a lobster leg. “If I eat something, will you let me get on with it?”
“I don’t want you running yourself ragged. We’ve got a whole week ahead of us.”
“That’s not an answer to my question.” She pales. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“You better not start being all fake nice to me now just because you know who I am. Be yourself.”
She looks into my eyes, seeming playful despite herself. “You might regret saying that.”
“Somehow, I doubt it.”
She bites her lip, then quickly lets it go. Any time she allows her mood to change her features, she instantly gets annoyed with herself.
“What?” she says.
“What?” I counter.
“You’re looking at me funny.”
“You’re interesting, Siena, that’s all.”
She smooths down her dress, then fidgets with her hands in her lap. My memory saves the moment her hand presses down against her breasts, her stomach, her legs. She makes me feel savage for one hungry, insane moment.
“I can’t eat with you watching me. So, if you want me to fuel up like you claim, you should probably leave me alone.”
I stand. “Your wish is my command,” I say with a bow.
Another smile – another correction. “Are you always this cheesy?”
“You bring it out of me, beautiful.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she mutters.
“What?”
“Beautiful. Gorgeous.”
“I can’t point out the basic fact that you’re an attractive woman?”
She looks up at me, scowling. “I’m here to do a job, not… not whatever you’re trying to do.”
“What I’m trying to do is woo you.”
She stands. “Good luck with that.”
As she walks away, I watch the sway of her hips. She looks over her shoulder, smiles like it’s a reflex, then storms off.
CHAPTER 5
SIENA
After the boat tour, I head back to my room to grab a quick nap before seeing to the evening’s arrangements. There’s nothing major tonight–just dinner at the bespoke restaurant the Bianchis had built and scouting the photoshoot location for tomorrow.
As I walk down the short pier that leads to my hut, I think about Dario. He seemed genuinely concerned that I was running myself ragged, forcing me to sit and eat. Sure, I ran away before I ate–he was making me feel too… well, too anything–but the concern was charming. Even if I wouldn’t admit that to him.
He looked even more handsome on the beach, wearing a crisp white shirt open to his chest, showing his firmly muscled chest, his dark yet playful eyes watching me like I was fascinating to him.
When I arrive at my door, there’s a small card pinned to it.
‘Siena – your massage is booked for 5:30. We look forward to seeing you!’
This is a mistake. I definitely didn’t arrange a massage.
Forgetting the nap, I walk back down the pier. I can’t afford to take up a spot one guest might want to use. Finding the wellness center–a collection of huts scattered amidst the palms–I approach the main desk. Before I can reach it, however, Dario emerges with a smirk on his face.
“I was wondering if you’d make it on time.”
Standing close, I can smell his cologne, his sunscreen, him. The proximity stirs something in me.
“So, this was you,” I say.
“You almost sound as mad as you want to,” he replies.
“I haven’t got time—”
“For a relaxing couples massage? Are you kidding me?”
“A couples massage…” I look around. “Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t see any couples.”
“Don’t be so literal.” He nudges me playfully, and I smile. It’s like I can’t help myself around him. “A couple is just two people. We fit that description, can’t argue with that.”
“Dario, I haven’t got time for this.”
“Dinner isn’t until eight, right?”
I shift from foot to foot.
“Are you thinking of running?”
“How’d you guess?” I grumble.
“You’re all fidgety.”
“Sorry–I get like that.”
Why did I just apologize?
“Don’t be sorry. It’s cute.”
“I am not cute, and I’ve never wanted to be cute.”
“You’re even cuter when you’re trying not to be cute.”
I laugh. I can’t lie. It feels good. “How long is the massage?”
“Only thirty minutes. Since you’re so determined not to relax, I figured I’d show you how.”