Teasing Her Seal

And Gray wasn’t interested anyhow.

“Massages are not good for me,” she said aloud. Weren’t massages supposed to be relaxing? Instead, she was tense, which might have to do with the unwarranted attraction she’d felt for her masseuse. She flopped down on the sand, feet in the water, hoping a change in perspective would help. The palm tree overhead was sporting a bumper crop of coconuts. Given the way her week had gone, it was all too easy to imagine getting concussed by a falling coconut. She’d seen stranger things in the ER.

A crab scuttled up the side, pinchers waving. Closing her eyes, she replayed yesterday’s cabana scene, hoping for a better ending. Nope. Her humiliation was still complete. She’d tried to order a guy off a menu. That wasn’t her. And it hadn’t been fun. She made a mental note to tell Ashley that her recommendation sucked. Or, possibly, she simply sucked at having fun. She certainly needed more practice.

Cracking an eye, she glared at the crab that had paused halfway in its ascent. “I am officially the most boring, least fun person on the planet.”

The crab didn’t answer. It was probably a male.

It was certainly pretty enough to fit in. Fantasy Island had some of the most gorgeous men on staff that Laney had ever seen. Gray, for example, was supremely handsome if grumpy. He was also reserved, impossibly self-controlled and not much of a talker—but he had magic hands. She could attest to that. And, best of all, he would have been a temporary man. When Laney’s two weeks were up, she would have been able to board a plane and he would have stayed put, safely left behind on this teeny-tiny island and at least three thousand miles from her new trauma bay. That would have made him perfect because, after her failed engagement, she needed a break from commitment and notions of happily-ever-after.

The gentle tug on her foot was unexpected. She jerked upright, kicking out hard. Had the crab enlisted reinforcement from his crab buddies? Did they stock alligators on the island?

“It’s just me,” said a gruff male voice. Oh, God. She knew that voice. Its owner had figured prominently in some very racy dreams last night, saying You’re beautiful while the voice’s owner did wicked, wicked things with his fingers. She wasn’t sure which had been her favorite part.

“Why are you here?” She kicked out, splashing water at him. She’d liked him better in the dream, probably because she’d been saying sexy, smart stuff rather than staring at him with her mouth hanging open. In response to her complaint, he wrapped a big, warm hand around her ankle and gently tugged her foot to the ground.

“We need to discuss your need for the rough stuff.” Seconds later, a body followed the hand as Gray leaned up on his elbows. The man had no personal boundaries at all, because his world-class swim move put him between her legs and gave him a view of her bikini bottom that neither she nor the suit’s maker had ever intended. She hoped nothing had shifted. God, this was so not how she’d planned her day.

He eyed her prone position on the sand. “Enjoying the beach?”

“Conducting an amphibious assault?” She yanked on her ankle.

His thumb stroked over her ankle. “Not today. This is an assault-free zone.”

Right. Not sure how to interpret that remark, she tried to scoot backward but Gray tugged her forward. He might not be much of a smiler, at least not around her, but there was no denying that he was a handsome bastard. She stared suspiciously at him, but his face gave nothing away.

“Do you ever crack a smile?” She blurted the words out and then flopped back on the sand. Wow. Talk about smooth. He let go of her foot, though, so she inched away. Maybe she could keep going until she hit Miami. Or possibly New York. That might be far enough. Because while he didn’t smile with his mouth, he did plenty of smiling with his eyes. Like now, for instance.