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She was like nothing else.
Practically ethereal.
Wild red hair tumbled just past her shoulders in a riot of curls that I could imagine tangling my fingers in.
Her skin was the type that had no business being out in the hot afternoon sun for too long.
Freckles dotted and dashed across her nose, down her shoulders, following her collarbone down to her fucking perfect breasts.
I don’t know what hot girl magic they used to make it happen, but her deep, mossy eyes perfectly matched the swimsuit she wore. To my satisfaction, it showed a lot of skin, with the cutout in the middle and the deep v in the front. Hell, it might as well have been a two piece except for the tiny bows on the sides connecting the top piece to the bottom.
I wonder if those untie or if they’re just for show.
I swallowed hard.
Yes, a man could take one look at the goddess in green and become an instant convert.
A delicate cough snagged my attention and I raised my head to meet the eyes of the petite blonde lounging on the chaise to the right of my goddess. Her name was Helena.
I knew all of them already. Not only because I introduced myself the very first time they showed up to the pool, but because I had access to all guest information. The thick binder in my office held pages on each of them. Any detail that could help us make their stay better went in the binder. We called it a customer service manual, but I called it lucky.
Because it allowed me to know a lot about Maisy and her friends.
The brunette a chair over, was Gia Blackstone, a social media superstar. The Ember Island Tourism Committee had requested her presence, all expenses paid, to give the island a little more visibility and attract a younger crowd. They essentially gave her the run of the island, the entire place, for two weeks.
Gia was a beautiful woman.
Anyone with eyeballs would agree, but I could only be grateful that she brought her friend Maisy with her to the island. Because as soon as I saw her, I knew that was it for me. I wanted to drop to her feet and pay homage. Bow at the altar of her bosom…
Shit, I was doing it again.
Move, idiot, Helena’s eyes said, her head tilted to the side.
Move, yes. I definitely should not continue to stand here drooling over my pretty redhead.
Kara was on the other side of Helena. “Maisy, you need to scoot up on the chair so he can get behind you and reach your back.”
“Oh my God, Kara, okay.”
That tinge of pink was back in Maisy’s cheeks, and I felt bad for putting it there this time. She was waiting for me to do what I offered, and I’d made a whole thing of it by staring at her, dumbstruck.
I was an idiot, but Helena was all right, and to thank her for the assist I was going to have Marcel bring over the VIP tray of snacks and a bottle of champagne for the four of them as soon as I finished.
I moved behind Maisy and leaned one knee on the lounger, grinning as her back stiffened. I made her nervous.
Good.
That meant she was affected by me. I could work with that.
I snapped open a tube I’d brought with me and squirted a little into my hand. Maisy turned her head to glance at me, her curls hiding half of her face, and sniffed. “That doesn’t smell like tanning lotion, it smells like…”
“Of course, it’s not tanning lotion. Why would I put tanning lotion on you? I don’t want to set you on fire. Your skin is perfect, luminous even, we have to protect it. I got the good stuff for you, SPF 50.” Tanning lotion. And she was going to let me put that on her?
“Well, I only said yes because you kept asking, and you said the wordlotion. I’m already wearing sunscreen. I wear it every day.” She twisted around sideways and pinned me with a fiery stare that went straight to my dick. She was irritated, and it was damn sexy. I didn’t even feel bad for thinking so.
“In my defense, it’s all lotion. You’ve been sitting out here for almost two hours. Time to reapply.” Before she could smart off again, I swiped a line of sunscreen from her forehead down to the end of her nose, grinning when she shrieked and whirled around, almost slapping me in the face with that mass of hair. “You didn’t let me rub it in.”
The laughter came easily, and not the fake customer service laughter I used when making small talk with guests. She wrestled a genuine laugh out of me without even trying.
