by Sue Seabury
Hugo missed it, but Pete didn’t. He gave her an ostentatious wink and wobbled his brandy snifter in what she imagined was meant to be a gesture of soused camaraderie. She tossed him a half-hearted wave, and kept walking.
* * * *
Hugo told himself he hadn’t been upselling when he offered that massage to Miss Katherine. Thanks to Ramsey, she was going to be sore. She deserved attention and care. It was clear her ex-husband had not been good to her. And then thatidiota Pete had insulted her.
But why he’d given her an appointment time before checking with the masseuses, he didn’t know. He should have called earlier, but he was busy. What were the chances Luz would already be booked and Ynes had a sprained wrist? Lila and Floramaria still hadn’t responded. Flora was flaky, and Lila wasn’t that good. Her technique was to slap on some lotion without any real attention to the muscles. He didn’t usually deal with either, but what other choice did he have?
No way would he ask Jorge. Katherine would be too intimidated by a strange man. Anyway, if a man were going to perform the massage, he would do it himself.
His phone rang. Floramaria.
“Hola, Flora. I have someone in need of your services. Tomorrow morning, at ten?”
“You finally calling to take advantage of my services?” She breathed into the phone.
Tostá, as usual. “A massage for a guest, yes.”
“Sorry, baby. I’m booked. But if it was for you, I’d definitely be able to squeeze you in. And give you a squeeze. What’re you doing tonight?”
“Like I said Flora, I’m just trying to book an appointment for one of my guests. Thank you for calling back, but I need to keep checking around to find someone who can take her.” He hung up before Flora spouted any more nonsense, then dropped the phone and sank into the desk chair.
He could tell Katherine that the therapist was injured, or that the massage table had been stolen. Anything to cancel the appointment. Maybe she had already forgotten about it.
But she would remember when she woke up with aching muscles. There was no reason he couldn’t do the massage. He was a professional.
He stared at the phone screen, willing Lila’s name to appear.
9
Kat fell asleep in her clothes, which worked out because she didn’t open her eyes until ten minutes before her massage appointment. Everything hurt. Forget Pilates, just getting out of bed was a challenge. No time for a shower either. Surfing was definitely not going to be a mother-son activity.
She splashed a little cold water on her face and ran a comb through her hair, then hooked her purse over her wrist on her way out the door.
Limbs protesting every step, she barely made it to reception where Hugo was filling out paperwork at the front desk. Her leather sandals clicked on the tiles as she lurched like a zombie across the lobby.
He set the pen down. “I’m guessing a massage will be just the thing.”
He didn’t have to look so derned cheerful about it.
“I’m just glad I got something right for a change,” he said. “Come.”
Kat hobbled along beside him. He offered an arm.
“I’m not an old lady,” she grumbled, then made a mental note to either a) not accept any more morning appointments, or b) set an alarm so she could be sure to get her coffee first.
Only when they arrived at the open-topped grass hut did it occur to Kat to wonder who would be performing this service. No one was there waiting. She stopped dead.
“You do massage?” she asked, hoping to sound pleasantly inquisitive and not terrified and accusatory.
“Yes.” The gap in his front teeth showed. “I do a kind of Hawaiian massage calledlomi-lomi. Have you heard of it?”
“Um, no. I’ve, um, actually never had a massage before.”
“What an honor for me to be the one to introduce you to the pleasure.”
His speech was bumpy but his person radiated professionalism. Not the type to try any cute moves. And he was wearing a shirt today. The tight white sleeveless knit highlighted his musculature, but it was still less intimidating than bare skin.
Aches trumped shyness. And it would definitely count as another YOLO item. “Sounds great. Please be gentle.”
“Lomi-lomi will be perfect for you. It was developed to deal with post-surfing soreness.”
“Really?”
Hugo wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think so. I was kidding.”
Kat forced a laugh. Their humor never seemed to connect.
“Let’s begin with you lying face down.” Hugo’s eyes ran lightly over her low-cut dress. “Undress to your level of comfort. I will knock in a few minutes.” He walked back out and shut the door.
Kat leaned on the table and pondered what her “level of comfort” was. Her dress had to go, obviously, but what about the rest? Now she wasreally glad she was wearing her bathing suit. A little embarrassing she hadn’t taken a shower, but at least she had a Listerine pocket pack in her bag. She’d just popped one into her mouth when Hugo knocked.
“All set?”
Kat froze, although why, she couldn’t say. She was still wearing all her clothes. “Oh, no. Sorry. Moving slow today.”
“Take your time.”
She wrenched off her dress and flung it on the ground. Her arms screamed before she got anywhere close to unhooking her bikini bra. That decided the upper portion and her comfort level definitely included the bottom half. She flung herself down on the table, biting her lips the whole time not to cry out in pain. “Ready!”
The door opened. Kat didn’t like this face-down business. She felt naked and exposed and prayed her cellulite was invisible in the reclined position. She lifted her head and turned. Hugo knelt by her shoulder. Thank heavens for her breath mint.
“There is a sheet, if you’d like to climb under.” He tugged on the cloth.
Kat bent her arms to push away. Agony. “Oh, um, if it’s okay, I’m fine like this.”
Hugo chewed his bottom lip.
“Am I breaking some massage etiquette by lying on top of the sheet?” she asked.
“No, no. This is fine. You’re wearing your bathing suit, so.” He cleared his throat.
Kat laughed. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t have lain like this naked!” If she hadn’t broken a rule before, that comment probably did. “Ehem. I’ll be quiet now and let you do your job.”
“You may talk if you wish, but most people find it more relaxing to be silent.”
Kat took the cue. She shut her eyes and her mouth and braced for bone-crushing pressure from those enormous hands.
Instead, warm, gentle fingers ran lightly up her back. She got head-to-toe goosebumps.
“I’m going to undo your top here so I don’t push the clasp into your spine, and then I’ll rehook it when it’s time to turn over, okay?”
“That’s fine. Just as long as you don’t tell me you need me to take off my bottom half. My butt is soft enough to absorb the shock.”Quiet, Kat.
Hugo was gentleman enough not to respond. The same tender fingers untied the string at her neck. Her goosebumps got goosebumps. The awkwardness dissipated in the silence.
Kat held her breath not to laugh or scream but his touch was perfect. Firm, but gentle. He was using his hands but also something else; it felt like his forearm. Whatever it was, it seemed to lift the pain directly out through her skin. Under his confident touch her nerves vanished.
His long, flowing strokes from her shoulders to her calves connected her to her body in a way she’d never felt before. The rhythmic pressure rocked in sync with the ocean waves. Her body, Hugo’s hands, and the rest of the universe were all one in warmth, security and love.
Maybe she’d take it slower on the rum punches today.
An odd sound interrupted her pleasant reverie. Hugo’s magical hands were making it hard to concentrate, but she finally figured it out: he was singing. It went back and forth between syllables and humming. Kat caught a case of the giggles.
“A
m I tickling you?” he said. “I apologize. I will deepen the pressure.”
Kat’s giggle turned into a groan. “You’re fine.” She hardly recognized the croaky voice as her own. “Everything’s fine.” Between her inability to make meaningful sounds and Hugo’s divine work, she lost the desire to explain further. She shut her eyes and let herself be carried away to a tropical island . . .
Oh, wait. She was already on one.
Paradise, that’s what this place was. To think she’d been considering leaving. She silently thanked Carver for being tough on her, then let all coherent thought go and floated away on the waves created by Hugo’s heavenly touch.
His hands molded perfectly to her every contour. Here was a type of workaholic she could be interested in.
If she were in the market.
Which she wasn’t.
10
She must’ve drifted off, because it had to be a dream that Hugo was kissing the back of her neck. Her eyes snapped open.
“Miss Katherine? If you are ready, please turn over.”
She lifted her head. It wasn’t possible that he’d kissed her. He was standing at the foot of the table.
She could barely move, but in a good way this time. It was as if he had transformed her stiff, sore body into a wet washcloth. Her eyes closed again. “Gimme a sec.”
“I know the feeling. Allow me to help.” Strong hands grasped her hip and shoulder; she found herself face up. His method reminded her of the nurses at her mother’s facility.
Nursing home thoughts were the last thing she needed right now. She opened her eyes to see a rectangle of dreamy blue above the open-topped hut. Hugo’s pleasant face and wild hair appeared in one corner of it.
“Everything all right?”
“Yes,” she croaked.
When he started back down on her legs again, she returned to her cloud of bliss.
The humming restarted. It occurred to her that it might be part of the massage. She didn’t interrupt to ask but opened her eyes to watch.
His face had a serene, far-away look to it and his hair was tied in a messy knot on top of his head. Apparently he wasn’t any more talented at taming that tornado than she was, which made her feel better about her poor job the day before. Her mind started to wander again. She imagined those curls tickling intimate parts of her. The giggles returned.
“Sorry,” Hugo said. “I didn’t want to use too much pressure because you are sore.”
“Oh, no, it’s not you. You’re perfect. I mean, everything is perfect. Thank you.”
Kat instructed her mind to behave and shut her eyes to cut the tempting input. She drifted off to a place where curly-haired men with heavenly hands tended to her every need.
“Thank you,” Hugo said.
Kat’s eyes flew open. She must have drifted off again. “You’re welcome,” she said automatically. “I mean, thankyou. That was amazing.” She didn’t like parroting Queenie, but this case warranted it.
His teeth showed. “I am so happy. Now, to honor your request for peace and solitude, I will leave you here. Take all the time you like. We do not have any other massages scheduled this morning, so if you’d like to take a nap here, feel free. I wish you a pleasant morning.”
The door shut behind him before Kat could respond.
“Hugo, wait.” She sat up and felt some give in her bikini top. She grabbed her chest to hide any exposed flesh.
His curly mop swayed through the door. “Yes?”
Just her luck he returned at that moment. She glanced down. Her bikini top was tied, just not as tight as she would have pulled it. She tried to make it look natural that she’d just been fondling herself and slid her hands up her neck to pull the strings tighter. “Um, I need to pay for the massage.”
“Don’t worry about that now. We put everything on your room charge. Keeps things simple. No one wants to worry about where to keep a wallet in their bikini.” He winked.
Kat’s fingers were still half-asleep. They fumbled the strings; her top went slack again. She gripped her boobs like a pair of rescue buoys.
“Take your time,” Hugo said, closing the door again.
Please let him not have seen that, Kat prayed, then flopped down on the table. In her groggy condition, maybe it wasn’t safe for her to walk back up on her own. She tied a firm knot and headed for the door.
Hugo was gone. She took a few steps, then changed her mind and went back into the hut. It would have been nice if he’d stayed to chat for a minute, but she had asked to be left alone. Anyway, he was probably busy with work. Inside the little hut, she was safe from the likes of Queenie and Pete.
She shut the door and lay back down. The sky was the most perfect shade of blue and not a cloud in it. A morning nap sounded a bit indulgent, but a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. Twenty, tops.
*
Kat had the distinct sensation of being burned at the stake.
Instinctively, she curled into a ball; the impression calmed. A stripe of sun blazed a line across the end of the table.
Embarrassed at her narcolepsy, she threw on her sundress, but her feet were too hot and resisted being pushed into sandals. She would have to go barefoot. Good thing this place was casual.
Walking quickly back up to the common area of the resort, she blinked the sleep out of her eyes.
“There you are!” Queenie’s chainsaw screech was certainly an eye-opener.
Why had she been in such a hurry to get back here again?
“Oh, good, you’re already wearing your suit.” Queenie gave the strap of Kat’s bikini an overly-familiar twang. “C’mon! The guys rented Seadoos.” She wrapped a powerful hand around Kat’s arm and pulled.
Kat dug in. “Slow down. What guys? And what’s a Seadoo?”
“The guys from last night. Jet skis. C’mon. They’re waiting.” She tugged on Kat’s arm again.
Kat held her ground. “The Cigarbellies? You can’t be serious.”
Queenie leaned in. “Seems Pete really took a shine to you. Play your cards right and you’ll not only get a free ride here, but maybe for the rest of your life. My research tells me he’s a bigwig finance type.”
So the woman did have a volume control button. During their brief acquaintance, Queenie’s voice had always run somewhere between serrated knife and electric saw. Now it was soft, like a buzzing insect.
Saving a few bucks on something she wanted to try was one thing. Taking advantage of strange men in whom she had no interest was another. Kat peeled Queenie’s talons from her skin. “Pass.”
Queenie put on a pouty face. “Aw, c’mon. Don’t make me go all by my lonesome.”
Kat looked down. Her feet were bright pink.
“You won’t be alone, Miss Queen.”
Hugo strode up, using that neutral professional tone again, the one that was impossible to argue with. His shirt had vanished, only the red floral sarong remained. So he’d dressed up for her massage. How thoughtful.
“Miss Katherine has said she does not care to go, and you will have the very pleasant company of Mister Stan and the others. Please. They are waiting.” Hugo held out a hand. At the same time, a whistling Ramsey sauntered up the path from the dock.
“Hey, there she is! You comin’, Miss Kat?”
“Just Miss Queen,” Hugo replied. He took Queenie’s arm and placed it in Ramsey’s hand, who did a few jokey merengue moves.
“Let’s hit it!” Ramsey said.
“Okay, Daddy-O. But it’s me who gets to hit.” Queenie slapped both Hugo and Ramsey on the rear, but went willingly. A chink in Queenie’s armor: tag-team male attention. Kat took note.
As soon as they were gone, Kat turned on Hugo. “Thank you, but I can fight my own battles.” Her harsh tone shocked even herself.
He actually took a step backward. “I’m sorry. I just thought, Miss Queen can be quite insistent, and you didn’t want to go. At least, you said you didn’t.”
Kat was still shaking from the unexpected anger. “Excus
e me.I’m sorry. You had the right intentions, it’s just . . .” If there was one thing about Darren that drove her crazy, it was his habit of telling her what she wanted. “Nothing. I didn’t want to go. But I think I can handle one middle-aged female.”
Hugo turned toward the retreating couple. Queenie had just grabbed a handful of Ramsey’s behind. “You sure about that?”
A beat passed, then they shared a laugh. Kat’s angry trembling subsided.
Hugo’s rumbling laugh turned to a sigh. “I am still misunderstanding what you want. Let me make it up to you. I know the perfect place for seclusion.” He took her hand as if that action were something he did every day. It felt just as comfortable as it had when she passed out at reception.
They’d only gone a few steps when Hugo pulled up short. He dropped her hand. “Are you hungry? Would you like some lunch before we go?”
“I’m fine. Still full from yesterday’sdelicioso dinner.”
Hugo resumed walking, but did not take her hand again.
He led her down the same path she’d taken the day before, to the cliff.
“Do you throw parties out here?” she asked.
“Yes. Some days we host cocktail hour up here, when we don’t have live music for dinner. Tonight, in fact, we’ll do it, as long as the weather holds.”
“Oh, no, is the forecast bad?” Kat asked.
Hugo pulled a phone from a hidden pocket in his sarong and tapped at it. “Tonight should be fine.”
He touched the screen again, and frowned. Kat leaned in and saw a swirl pattern.
“That looks like a hurricane.”
Hugo stowed the phone back in its secret pocket. “It’s far out, closer to Africa than here. No need to worry. Come.” He took a left, the opposite way from where she’d gone the day before. He hopped down a steep drop. “Give me your hands.”
She jumped down, and stumbled into him, which resulted in an unexpected near-hug. He was very solid.
