Natural Passion (Au Naturel Trilogy Book 1)

by Anna Durand

  "I guess that would be okay."

  While he steered the cart down the dirt path to the guest house, I granted myself permission to ogle him a bit more. His tattoos fascinated me. The black designs adorned the upper part of his chest as well as his right arm. The ones on his chest were abstract patterns, but the one on his arm represented a stylized dragon that curled around his biceps and spit black flames from its open mouth.

  I let my attention wander to his ass and the way it flexed with his every step. With all those taut muscles, along with his easy sensuality and complete lack of shame, he definitely had the raw material to be a fantastic lover.

  Not that I would sleep with him. Way too complicated.

  We finished stocking up the buffet table while Quentin chomped on his food, watching us from a table in the back of the dining hall. He kept squinting at Val but avoided looking at me.

  Just what I needed. A jealous ex-lover on the premises.

  I hurried outside to ring the lunch bell. Literally. I had a big brass bell attached to the side of the guest house and rang it to alert my guests it was mealtime. A few straggled in from the direction of the hot spring, but most emerged from their rooms. I returned to the dining hall only to be waylaid by Ruth Norris.

  "What a hunk," she said, nodding toward Val. "About time we got some real eye candy for the ladies."

  Should a gray-haired woman with seven grandchildren be talking about eye candy? It seemed weird, but I'd gotten used to Ruth's un-grandma-like comments over the past few years.

  I slipped my arm around her shoulders. "Don't tell Ollie that. He thinks he's our man candy of the month."

  "That dear, sweet boy is fine looking. But he"—she rolled her eyes toward Val—"is prime, grade-A beefcake."

  "Cool down, Ruth. Sylvester might hear you."

  "Oh, he doesn't mind. My hubby knows I'm window shopping." She cast me an impish sideways glance. "I heard a rumor the new guest is staying in your house."

  "His room got flooded by a burst pipe. He's in the spare room until Quentin gets the cleanup done."

  "I see," she said with a bit too much emphasis. "At least you'll be close by to keep an eye on Mr. Tall, Dark, and Beautiful when the Kitten Brigade shows up. They'll eat that poor boy alive."

  Val, done introducing himself to other guests, sauntered up to me and Ruth. "Shall we go, Eve? I'm looking forward to a private meal with my hostess."

  Ruth's lips tightened in a knowing smile. "Private meal? My, Evie, I didn't realize you were expanding your services."

  I stuffed my hands in my shorts pockets. "It's a special case. Val is staying in my house—by necessity, of course—and I invited him to have his meals with me."

  Ruth winked at me. "I'm sure the Kitten Brigade has nothing to do with it." She caught sight of her husband, flapped her fingers at him in a mini wave, and said, "I'll leave you to your private meal. Nice to meet you, Val."

  She patted Val's arm, then toddled off to join her husband.

  I waved for Val to follow me out of the dining hall. We'd made our way down the long hallway and out the side door, heading toward my house, before he spoke.

  "Kitten Brigade?" he asked.

  "That's what the older ladies have named them. They're a group of twenty-something girls who started coming here on their spring breaks from college." I pushed open the outside door to my kitchen. "They've come here every summer for the past four years. They are, shall we say, very enthusiastic in their admiration for attractive men. The term Kitten Brigade came about because Ruth said those girls would be called cougars if they were older. Since they're young, they must be kittens. I pointed out baby cougars are called cubs, but Ruth insisted kitten was a better term."

  "A cougar, meaning a woman who pursues younger men."

  "Yes. But the Kitten Brigade does not discriminate based on age. They'll pounce on any man, old or young, as long as he's of legal age."

  "They sound awful."

  "Oh, they're not so bad. When they come here, they want to have fun. I know they all have steady jobs, though, and not as strippers. Some are in grad school studying law, anthropology, or psychology. Others are accountants, advertising copywriters, and other serious stuff."

  "When will these kittens arrive?"

  "Later this week."

  The door clicked shut behind us, and I went to the fridge, pulling it open. "Want a sandwich?"

  He moved up behind me, leaning around me to peer inside the fridge. "Let me make lunch for you. After making a meal for all those guests, you must be tired."

  No, not really. Staring at his gorgeous bod kept me awake and energized.

  The heat of him, so close against my backside, sent a tingly shiver through me. And God, the way he smelled. Spicy, woodsy, tempting as hell. My lids fluttered half shut as I drew in another lungful of his scent.

  "Are you all right?" he asked in a sexy rumble, his lips grazing my ear.

  "Mm, fine." I forced my lids to open all the way and wriggled away from him. "If you want to make lunch, be my guest."

  "I am your guest." He bent to study the contents of the refrigerator. "But I'd love to feed you."

  Conversation seemed like the best way to tame the desire simmering inside me or to at least distract myself from it. I perched on one of the stools on the other side of the island, my hands clasped on the wood surface. I wiggled my butt until I found a comfortable position. "May I ask you a personal question?"

  "Go ahead." He smiled at me over his shoulder. "I'm not shy."

  No kidding. I'd spent five years catering to the needs of people who preferred to go sans clothing, but none of them had the audacity of Val Silva.

  "You live in Los Angeles, right?" I said. "But your accent, I can't quite place it."

  "I've lived in Los Angeles for five years, but I'm originally from Porto Alegre, a city in southern Brazil." He grabbed packages of cheese and deli meat, tossing them onto the island. "I've spent a lot of time in America. When I was fifteen, my father was appointed the Brazilian ambassador to the US. We lived in Washington, DC, for three years. After that, I went to Harvard."

  "The university?"

  "Yes." He tossed a package of bacon onto the island, peeking at me over his shoulder. "Is there another kind of Harvard?"

  "No, I guess not." Why had I asked such a dumb question? Jeez, Evie, get a grip. "What do you do for a living? Are you a lawyer? I only ask because you seem smart and well-off."

  He turned toward me and set down the condiments he held in both hands. Head tipped to the side, he observed me like I was a confusing creature. "You honestly have no idea who I am, do you?"

  "You're Val Silva." I folded my arms on the island. "Are you from a super-rich family or something?"

  "No," he said slowly. "I was a football player—soccer to Americans—for years until an injury forced me to retire. Now, I take modeling jobs when I feel like it."

  "When you feel like it? Guess you made a good living at soccer." I ran my gaze over his muscular, tattooed chest. "You probably get paid a lot for modeling, with a body like yours."

  He chuckled. "Thank you for the compliment, but that's not why I get high-paying modeling jobs."

  "Why, then?" Realizing I was being kind of rude, I held up a hand. "Sorry, never mind. It's not my business, unless you want to tell me. I swear I'm not normally this nosy."

  "I don't mind your questions." He bowed his head, focused on sorting the items he'd procured from the fridge. "Most people don't need to ask questions. They know all about me before they ever lay eyes on me."

  "Are you famous?"

  He set his hands on the island, leaning into them, and lifted his head to look at me. "Infamous is more accurate."

  The house phone rang.

  Damn, I wanted to know why Val was infamous, but I couldn't ignore the phone. My guests only called when there was an urgent issue.

  "Hold that thought," I said and rushed to grab the phone off
the wall. "Hello."

  "You forgot dessert," Quentin said. "The guests are not happy."

  "Oh. Sorry. I'll bring it over right away."

  "Not like you to forget anything."

  "I'll bring the desserts," I snapped. "Get back to work on the burst pipe."

  "Plumber can't get here until tomorrow."

  "Fine, whatever. Goodbye."

  I hung up, oddly flustered by my phone call with Quentin. He had interrupted my conversation with Val, and I was annoyed. Why? Val was just another guest, one I would not sleep with ever, under any circumstances. Been there, done that, had the mental bruises to prove it. My mistake with Quentin last year had done damage I hadn't realized until today.

  Until Val Silva showed up.

  My gaze flicked to him. "I forgot to take the desserts over to the guest house. Gotta do that now, sorry."

  "I'll help."

  "That's okay, I can manage. The desserts are in the guest house fridge, which is always locked. I have the only key."

  And I needed a little break from being alone with a nude, intensely hot man.

  I left Val alone in my kitchen and jogged over to the guest house.

  Chapter Four

  Val

  Eve came back a little while later but insisted she had work to do in her office, which was in the guest house. She grabbed the lunch I'd made for her and took off again, though not before encouraging me to go out and mingle with the other guests.

  I wanted to mingle with her. Alone. All day and all night.

  She really had no idea who I was or what I'd done. I had no shame about any of it, but I always ran the risk new people wouldn't appreciate my infamous past. Maybe my football career alone wouldn't have made me a celebrity, but my affair with a movie star certainly had. Our scandalous public behavior had made us a favorite of the tabloids. I'd assumed Eve was flustered around me because she knew about my indiscretions. Everyone with an internet connection seemed to know.

  Eve didn't.

  I ate my lunch alone before wandering over to the guest house.

  A cheerful older woman with gray hair rushed up to me the instant I walked into the dining hall. The other guests seemed to be finishing up their dessert.

  The woman, whom I'd seen with Eve earlier, seized my hand with both of hers. "We weren't properly introduced before. I'm Ruth Norris. It's so nice to meet you, Val. Eve told me absolutely nothing about you except your name."

  Because Eve knew next to nothing about me.

  I smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ruth. Thank you for the warm welcome."

  "Let me introduce you to everybody."

  "No need. I met them earlier."

  "But you didn't get the Ruth Norris special introduction." She leaned in and whispered, "I saved you dessert, but Sylvester had to stash it in our room so these chow hounds wouldn't gobble it up. I'll get it for you after the introductions."

  "Thank you, but there's no need to go to any trouble."

  "It's no trouble, dear." She patted my cheek.

  Ruth shepherded me around the room, presenting me to every one of Eve's guests. They all had nothing but praise for their hostess, though some of them commented that she needed a "good man" in her life. Ruth stated outright she thought I was that man.

  I wanted to fuck Eve, but a relationship could never work. She didn't belong in my world any more than I belonged in hers. For a week or two, yes. For life? No. Besides, according to all my new friends, Eve did not date.

  Ollie Jackson, the youngest guest in residence here, kept staring at me, though not with jealousy. He seemed confused. When Ruth introduced us, Ollie pushed up his glasses and said, "Have we met before? You seem familiar."

  "I don't think we've met, but I do run into a lot of people when I'm working."

  "What do you do?"

  Ruth gave Ollie's arm a casual slap. "Don't interrogate the boy. Let's not scare him off on his first day."

  I thanked heaven for Ruth's interruption. Ollie's question didn't upset me, but I preferred to avoid answering. This vacation was supposed to be an escape from my life and sharing too much would ruin that. But if I were completely honest with myself, I didn't want to talk about my life because I didn't want Eve to know about my escapades.

  What did it matter? I planned to have sex with her, as many times as possible, but I did not want a relationship.

  Ollie scratched his head, ruffling his curly blond hair. "I'm sure I've seen you somewhere."

  I cleared my throat and changed the subject, not so deftly. "Eve has had no boyfriends since you've known her?"

  Ruth chortled and squeezed my shoulder. "Don't worry, sweetie, she's free."

  Ollie contorted his lips. "Well, it's not entirely accurate to say Eve's had no boyfriends. There was that thing with Cody and Aaron two summers ago."

  A threesome? Eve? She didn't seem like the type, so that must not have been what Ollie meant.

  Luckily, he explained. "See, Eve had a thing with Cody in the spring, but that ended. Then, when Cody and Aaron were both here for the summer, she had a thing with Aaron. Cody got righteously ticked about that." Ollie gestured with his hands to emphasize his words. "He kind of assumed Eve was, like, his girl and nobody else's. She'd told him it was totally and forever done with, but the guy did not want to give up."

  "Cut to the chase, dear," Ruth said. "You're boring Val."

  "Not at all," I said. "What happened, Ollie?"

  "Well…" Ollie leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Cody started pushing Aaron around. You know, physically pushing him. They yelled and stuff. But finally, Aaron had enough, and he slugged Cody." Ollie held up two fingers. "Twice. That dude had a black eye and could hardly chew for a week."

  Ruth tsked. "Ollie is exaggerating. The black eye is true, but Cody had no trouble chewing."

  "Tell me, Ollie," I said, "what did Eve think of all that?"

  He scrunched his face and puckered his lips in a silent oooh. "She was royally pissed. Told both of them to take a hike. She even banned them from the resort for life."

  A man with salt-and-pepper hair, whom I'd met but whose name I'd forgotten, jumped up and waved his arms. "It's nature hike time!"

  He spun toward the dining hall doorway. Everyone else looked in that direction too.

  Eve stood there with an enormous backpack slung over one shoulder. She'd switched her sneakers for hiking boots. "That's right. I've got the bug spray and sunscreen, plus bottled water. Are you guys ready to go?"

  Her guests nodded. Some shouted, "Yes!"

  "We're heading to the lake, so grab a quick shower first. Don't want to spread any germs, do we?"

  "Evie's a germophobe," Ollie quipped, grinning at our hostess.

  "Ha-ha. It's resort policy, as everyone knows, and good hygiene. Let's meet up outside."

  Guests started to move toward the door.

  "Remember the shoes, people!" Ollie shouted. "You want blisters? I sure don't. And does anybody remember the Great Barefoot Disaster of last summer?"

  The entire group hurried past Eve, headed for their rooms to retrieve their shoes, leaving me alone with our hostess.

  "Do you want shoes?" she asked.

  "It's probably a wise choice. Mine are in your house."

  She turned and waved for me to follow. "Let's go get them. We'll meet the gang outside."

  While we walked back to Eve's house, I asked, "What was the Great Barefoot Disaster?"

  "Last summer, the Kitten Brigade decided to go barefoot on a nature hike." Eve winced. "They didn't see the ant colony until it was too late. Velvety tree ants were nesting under a rock. One of the girls tripped over it. Those ants bite if you disturb their nest."

  I grimaced. "That must have been unpleasant."

  "Since then, nobody goes into the woods without shoes."

  Once I'd rinsed off in the shower and put my shoes on, Eve and I met up with the others in the area between the gue
st house and Eve's home.

  "Everyone all sprayed up and sunscreened?" Eve asked.

  The group nodded.

  "I've got extra if you need it," she said. "Aloe and antihistamine spray too, just in case."

  "You're a worrier," I said.

  "I've been hosting nudists for five years. It's experience, not worrying."

  Eve led us past the miniten net and down a trail into the woods. I took the backpack from her, despite her eye roll when I did it. We ambled down the trail with Eve pointing out various flowers and bushes, explaining what they were and how they fit into the ecosystem. She pointed out birds too, as well as smaller creatures on the ground. I couldn't focus on anything she said. The sight of her round ass moving, stretching her shorts with every sway of her hips, distracted me.

  I had to keep imagining ants attacking my dick to prevent a hard-on.

  Fifteen minutes later, we reached a small lake. Eve instructed me and Ollie to set out the picnic blankets she'd somehow stuffed into her backpack along with everything else. She unpacked bottles of water and a plastic box filled with single-serve bags of potato chips and tiny pink cakes nestled in a smaller plastic box with wax paper separating them.

  She'd brought a snack for us. The woman thought of everything.

  After lunch, the group took a swim. Well, everyone except Eve. She waded into the cool water up to her knees but stepped no farther.

  "What's the matter, Evie?" Ollie asked. "Did you see Jaws one too many times?"

  She smiled and shook her head. "There are no great white sharks in this lake."

  Ollie splashed her, making Eve laugh. The water soaked her shirt, and her taut nipples became visible through her bra.

  I had to stay in the water several minutes after everyone else retreated onto the shore. Eve's wet T-shirt had left me in a state that wasn't suitable for mixed company.

  While we ate dessert, Ollie told me his version of why Eve didn't date. "I think she got sick of guys fighting over her. I mean, every hetero dude who comes here wants to crawl inside Evie's pants and make a home there."

  "Every man?" I tipped my head to indicate Ruth's husband, Sylvester.