Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“Wow. I should be a resort manager,” I say. “You’ve got a lot of perks.”
His eyes rake over me, clearly assessing what I’m up to.
“It beats shoveling horse manure. Now, what can I do for you? You never did answer me over breakfast about your foot.”
“It’ll heal. But you want a glowing review, right?” I steeple my fingers together, watching how his eyes catch the light and glow like the Hawaiian sky.
“Sweetheart, every manager ever born wants that.”
I nod. “If I’m helping you, you’re helping me.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I’m not paying for any of my food or drinks until I leave, for one—”
“Done,” he snaps, surprisingly fast. “You already know I don’t have a problem with comps. I gave you a free breakfast and then ate your lobster eggs because I turned your stomach.”
Fighting down a smile, I hold up a finger. “Hold on. I wasn’t done yet.”
That shine in his eyes kills me.
“There’s more?”
I suppress a devilish grin.
“Yep. So, my videos get more reach and better engagement when I’m able to show off secret places. You know, the cool, exclusive stuff off the beaten path that only the most well-connected people ever get access to.”
He stares at me, this bear of a man stuffed into a suit. It’s hard not to feel slightly intimidated.
“And you need me to find some special places to wow your people?” His gaze deepens with an intensity that cuts right through me.
Heat thrums through my veins.
Every second my eyes are fixed to his throat, his mouth, strong muscles working and lips that might steal some lucky woman’s soul.
But I find my words. “Close. I’d actually like you to hire a local tour guide to take me around the island. Show me Lanai at its dreamiest.”
His weight shifts as he leans in his chair. He strokes the shadow of dark scruff around his chin, thinking deeply for a moment before his eyes snap back to mine.
“On one condition, Miss Renee. If I agree to this demand, I’ll be your tour guide.”
“You? No way!” I clap a hand over my mouth the second it’s out.
The reaction is visceral. Explosive.
I don’t mean to be rude, but holy hell. I was not expecting that—or the smug amusement on his face as he rakes his eyes over me again.
“Is the idea so appalling? You wound me.” He thumps his chest dramatically and mimes like he’s extracting a knife.
Elephant dick.
“Dude. You hate my guts. You’re only working overtime to make my time here awesome because you’re scared of what I’ll say. How would either of us have a fun day together?” I cough once for emphasis.
I think I’d rather have Lucifer himself show me the island.
He stares at me too intensely.
“We’ve been through this. I fessed up to buttering you up like a good boy, didn’t I?” He waits for me to nod. “I’m simply doing my job. Personal feelings hardly matter. And for the record, I hate everything that complicates my life—including you. That doesn’t mean I won’t curl your toes with sights you couldn’t conjure up in your wettest dreams.”
I’m dead.
The way he casually sexualizes this whole situation—and me—leaves my jaw hanging.
I think about his response for a solid minute, twirling a strand of hair in my fingers idly.
“You should choose another habit,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. “You’re about to pull your hair out. It’d be a shame if you put a bald spot on that pretty little head.”
He didn’t.
Oh, but he did.
I glare back, resisting the urge to give him a freaking bald spot.
“You know what? You really are brutally honest when you’re not sucking up. That’s rare,” I say neutrally. “Travel is all about stepping outside your comfort zone. And frankly, I can’t imagine anything more uncomfortable than spending an entire day in paradise with you. So, yeah, let’s do it.”
He snorts, scratching the side of his face to hide what I suspect might be a smile.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miss Renee.”
He extends his hand for me to shake.
I hesitate before I take it, but when I do—my hand rips back.
There’s a flash of blue light in the room, I swear.
Jesus.
“Damn static. It’s the humidity control. I’ll have to get that adjusted,” he grumbles.
Um, right.
“Whatever. You’d better curl my pigs like you promised or there’ll be hell to pay for years on TikTok.”
“Pigs?” he repeats.
Smiling, I lift my sandled foot to the edge of his desk and wiggle my toes.
“Really.” He lets out an exaggerated sigh and slouches in his chair. “Who the fuck did I piss off to be at the mercy of a woman who names body parts after farm animals?”
I swallow a snicker.
“I only have like a few days left to soak up Lanai. So kindly shut it and make it incredible, and I won’t even tell anyone I got cut on your property.”