Barefoot With a Bodyguard (Barefoot Bay Undercover) (Volume 1)

by Roxanne St Claire

  They shared a long look, and Kate bit her lower lip, her eyes lighting with a laugh.

  “All right, ladies, scoot.” Orangie dragged the curtain across the front, closing off the view. “Let me have my darlings all alone.”

  The two massage therapists scurried away, offering hasty good-byes and thank-yous and disappearing off to the beach.

  “Hello, Mathilda and Benjamin!” The new arrival swooped in like a tangerine hurricane, swooshing through the little area to place herself right between their heads, blocking any chance for Alec and Kate to silently communicate.

  “Well, well, well.” She looked from one to the other, flinging off her hat and tossing it to the floor, shaking out a mass of thick black curls. “I guess I have my breathwork cut out for me today.”

  Alec turned enough to lift his head and get a good look at her. “We know how to breathe.”

  A black eyebrow angled north. “And you know how to fuss, fight, and fume, too. You’re quite good at silencing her in the middle of a sentence, and she’s clearly holding in a lot of frustration where you’re concerned.”

  Alec felt his jaw drop and saw Kate’s sheet rustle as she turned and sat up. “I don’t think you know what—”

  “Oh, I know what,” she shot back.

  “Speaking of cutting her off in the middle of a sentence,” Alec said, pushing up, too. The madame pressed him right back down with one sharp nail.

  “I’m allowed. But you’re her husband, and after today, you will never interrupt her again, even with a kiss, as you were considering earlier.” She dragged that pointy talon over his shoulder. “Do you know why these beds have been placed only eighteen inches apart? Because during a couples massage, most pairs tend to hold hands and look lovingly into each other’s eyes.”

  And they’d done neither during their massage.

  “But we will fix that,” the woman said. “We will fix…you.” She pressed on Alec’s back, her fingers even stronger than the massage therapist’s, pushing him right back into the table.

  He didn’t know if you meant just him or included Kate, but he suspected he was the one who needed fixing. But right now? Right here? Half-naked and already pretending to be something he wasn’t?

  Alec’s stomach tightened as he braced for whatever was ahead.

  Valaina put one hand on Alec’s head and the other, he assumed by her posture, on Kate’s, still standing in the small space between their massage tables. “As you may know, I am Madame Valaina Bonaparte. No relation to the famous one, I’m sorry to say. For the next hour, I am one hundred percent in charge of you. You cannot argue with me or each other, you cannot leave, you cannot say no to anything I request, and you cannot—this is of paramount importance—you cannot be dishonest.”

  They were so screwed.

  “In return, I am giving a gift, a wedding gift in your case, that will last a lifetime.” She fluttered her fingers on his back. “I am giving you the gift of tenderness, which I assure you will be what you will need in the fifty or sixty years ahead.”

  Tenderness. Jesus H. He did not do tenderness. He didn’t even know what it was.

  “I feel you tensing, Benjamin. I feel you resisting, and do you want to know how? Your breathing stopped,” she announced before he could answer the question. “We will correct that.”

  “Great,” he mumbled.

  “We’ll work on a lot of things today, starting here.” She tapped his head. “I want you both to think right now. Close your eyes and think all the way back to the day you met. The first time you made eye contact.”

  Less than a week ago.

  “I understand that was in high school.” She let out a little laugh. “Yes, news travels fast, but I would have known that rumor was true just by the slight hitch in your breathing, Mathilda.”

  “Tilly,” Alec said. “My, um, wife goes by Tilly.”

  “What do you call her?” she asked.

  Kate. “A lot of things,” he said.

  “What is your secret pet name that only you use when you are alone or making love or taking a shower together?”

  They were both silent, then Valaina hooted. “My guess based on the way you both silently gasped? You shared that shower this morning.”

  “We did not,” Kate said.

  “I can sense when you gasp,” Valaina replied. “I’m a breathwork expert. Alec, your pet name?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Smarty-Pants,” Kate said. “He calls me Smarty-Pants.”

  He stole a look up at the woman to see if she was buying that, and also to try to catch Kate’s eye to thank her for the save. But the wall of orange still separated them, and Madame Valaina gave a knowing nod.

  “Of course he does,” she said. “And what do you call him? Big Guy? Superman? The Beast?”

  He heard Kate choke a soft laugh. “I like that.”

  Because it was accurate, he thought.

  “Woo hoo! Smarty-Pants and the Beast.” Valaina chuckled at her own wit. “I’m loving this already.”

  Glad somebody was.

  She took a slight step forward and moved her hand to his back. “Let’s talk about what’s in here.”

  “Lungs for breathing?” Alec guessed.

  “Heart for loving.” She tapped his back. “Think about the very first time you said the words I love you to each other. Remember?”

  More like I hate you. Though Kate had never said that, he imagined she’d thought it.

  “Who said it first?” Valaina asked, breaking a long silence.

  Still they didn’t answer—both certain they’d contradict the other, no doubt.

  “Tilly, was it Benjamin?”

  He heard her sigh. “No, it was me.”

  His heart dropped a little, and he had no doubt the madame felt it, too. Why would Kate say that? And who in their right mind would believe it?

  “All right, then, lower parts.” Suddenly, the woman’s hand was on his ass, but she’d moved enough that Alec could see Kate’s face. She was flushed, her eyes bright, a lock of auburn hair slipping over her eye. She held his gaze, but neither one of them even smiled. They were both too scared to get yelled at.

  “I want you to remember…”

  Sex, Alec imagined, bracing for the order.

  “The very first time one of you had an orgasm. Who was first?”

  Alec looked right at Kate, waiting to get the sign of how they should answer. She closed her eyes. “Me again.”

  Valaina nodded. “I’m happy to hear he’s a giver.”

  She finally opened her eyes, and Alec’s breath caught in his throat as their eyes met.

  “And now your feet.” Valaina was at the other end of the massage tables now, her hands over their sheets, on their feet. “Who will walk away?”

  Alec frowned. “Not following the question.”

  She squeezed his heel. “Of the two of you, who is the most likely to walk away and end this marriage?”

  After a beat, or ten, of his heart, Alec opened his mouth to answer.

  “Not me.”

  But it was Kate’s voice he heard, saying the same words. They’d said it in perfect unison.

  “Wonderful!” Valaina clapped. “There’s hope for you two, after all. Now, sit up. It’s time for deep breathing and some eye-to-eye, mouth-to-mouth, heart-to-heart, and body-to-body intimacy. Or what I call…bliss.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kate glanced around for where she’d left her bathing suit top. On a pillow, a good six feet away, and about two inches from Madame Valaina’s foot.

  Alec was already standing, still wearing the dark blue trunks that hung so low on his hips that she could see the indents under his abs, perfectly cut and pointing to…what was underneath those shorts.

  Bliss.

  She looked up and realized he’d caught her staring. “My top,” she mouthed.

  “Oh, absolutely not.” Valaina scooped up the bathing suit top with her toe and kicked it across the cabana. “I insist t
his is done while wearing as few clothes as possible to maximize your skin-to-skin contact.”

  “Madame—”

  “I have what you need.” She cut off Alec’s protest and produced a long piece of persimmon chiffon from a bag, flinging it across the space so it floated like red wind. “This will drape you.”

  Not very effectively, Kate thought, as she fingered what looked like a sheer curtain panel.

  Alec was next to her in a second, taking the fabric to wrap it around her, turning his head.

  “You don’t want to see your wife’s breasts?” Madame Valaina asked.

  Oh, God.

  Alec speared the woman with a look. “Pretty much nothing I want more. But not with an audience.”

  “Thanks,” Kate whispered, wrapping the material like a shawl around her bare shoulders. She had a bikini bottom on—a small bikini bottom—and at that point, all she could do was pray to whatever gods this sex guru followed that Alec could stay dressed during…bliss.

  “Benjamin, sit on this pillow, please, and cross your legs.” Valaina indicated an oversized tufted pillow on the floor, and he followed the orders.

  Valaina nodded to her. “Now you, Tilly.”

  “Where?” she asked. All of the other pillows had been removed.

  “On his lap,” she said. “Straddling him. You know, as if you’re making love in a chair. Surely you’ve made love in a…” She looked from one to the other, closing her eyes and shaking her head slowly.

  Had she figured out the truth? Kate didn’t move, waiting for the accusation and verdict: You two are complete fakes!

  “Excuse me while I walk into this wall between you two,” she said dryly. “You may say it’s because you aren’t comfortable with another person in this room, but I heard you bickering on the beach. Moreover, I saw the unnatural stiffness between you, and I can smell the tension in this tent. And I don’t mean of the sexual variety.”

  They stole another look at each other, as if they could silently agree not to let her know she was right.

  “Let go of whatever it is keeping you two apart,” the woman said, flicking her hands toward Alec on the floor. “Sit on his lap, Tilly.” Her voice softened, taking the sting out of the order. “And, for heaven’s sake, wrap your legs around your husband.”

  Kate let out a slow breath and walked across the hard-packed sand of the cabana floor, clinging to her flimsy wrap to cover her bare breasts. Alec stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched, his arms at his sides.

  He looked like a man being sent to a torture chamber.

  “Why?” Kate whispered, not even realizing the word slipped out.

  “It’s the only way to do this exercise,” Valaina replied. “And, dear girl”—she put a hand on Kate’s shoulder—“I’m rarely wrong about these things, but my impression is that Smarty-Pants has something to teach her Beast.”

  Did she? Well, it certainly wasn’t vocabulary.

  Kate lowered herself to his lap. She hesitated a split second, then she heard Alec’s breath catch as she found a place for her bottom, right on his hard, unforgiving thighs. Slowly, she curled her legs around his hips, and in this position, she was ever so slightly taller than Alec, her mouth at about his eye level.

  She inched back—

  “Oh no,” Valaina said, settling on a pillow she’d tossed to the floor a few feet away. Kate noticed that Alec surreptitiously glanced at his right hand, currently out of the other woman’s sight. Kate would have to remember to cover his tattoo. She’d have to remember to cover a lot of things, like her boobs, her thoughts, and her response to being sealed against a man this…hot.

  “Let your chest touch his, and your mouth to his ear.”

  She leaned forward, letting the thin material come between her and his bare chest, her lips at his left ear, his mouth in the vicinity of her throat.

  And both of them left their hands clumsily at their sides.

  “Okay,” Kate said, giving a little laugh. It was awkward, but it was also…warm. And not just because the sun beat down on the cabana roof.

  Ha managed to make his whole body perfectly still—except for his wildly beating heart. Nice to know there were some things he couldn’t control.

  “Benjamin.” Valaina’s voice had grown much softer, the edgy demand replaced by something that sounded more like a yoga instructor. “Put your hands on your wife’s shoulders.”

  Slowly, he lifted his hands and set them lightly over the fabric, carefully angling his right hand so Madame Valaina couldn’t get a good look at his tattoo.

  “What do you feel?” the woman asked.

  “Muscles and bone. Slender shoulders, but strong.”

  “Oh, gods and goddesses,” the woman exclaimed. “We do have work to do.” They both looked at her, their cheeks brushing as they turned. “What do you feel in here?” She tapped her chest. “When you touch your wife, what do you feel?”

  Nothing. Kate waited for the word. Or worse.

  Slowly, he turned back and repositioned them so their opposite cheeks touched.

  “I feel…awestruck.”

  A splash of something nice and satisfying rushed through her. “Awestruck?” she whispered.

  “I know, big word for me.”

  And so…sweet. Kate’s mouth lifted in an unexpected smile.

  “All right, it’s Tilly’s turn. Hands on his shoulders.”

  Alec released her and settled his hands on her waist so Kate could close her fingers over his massive shoulders. Speaking of being awestruck. She was, at the size, strength, and powerful masculinity of the man.

  “Tilly?” Valaina prodded. “What do you feel in your heart when you hold your husband’s shoulders?”

  “Protected.” The word slipped out, and she felt Alec’s cheek move as if he’d smiled, but she was pressed too close to see.

  “Good, good, that’s good. Now, I want you to touch each other’s chests.”

  Neither one of them moved.

  “Benjamin, please touch your wife’s breasts and tell me what you see when you imagine her heart.”

  He didn’t move, unless she counted the twitch of muscles that were pressed against her crotch. Oh. Maybe there were more things he didn’t control.

  Kate fought a smile…and the urge to rock her hips and torture them both.

  “Please,” Valaina urged.

  On a slow exhale, he lifted his hands and placed them over the rise of her breasts, over the red fabric. Kate looked down at his hands and sucked in a soft breath, her heart slamming against his touch.

  She stared at his beat-up fingers, huge and masculine and tattooed.

  “Under.” She barely breathed the word. “Under the cloth.” To hide the tattoo…and let him put his hand on her skin.

  He carefully lifted the sheer fabric to hide his marks. His hand seared against the most delicate and sensitive flesh, her eyes shuttering as she resisted a moan and sigh of pleasure.

  “Yes, yes,” Valaina said. “This is the moment you slowly take in all you can. Breathe. Through your nose, Benjamin. Not just air. Breathe in Tilly. Breathe in the scent and flavor of your wife.”

  He had to feel Kate’s body shaking and hear her own ragged breath. The fragrance of the room had changed from sweet spices to something more…human. The scent of desire.

  In her belly, lower, heat coiled and nerves tingled, and oh, God, everything was melting inside her…but doing just the opposite in his, right where the hottest part of their bodies met.

  Surely this lady would stop the madness soon.

  But Valaina was relentless. “How do you imagine her heart, Benjamin?” she asked. “What is it about that heart that made you fall for her?”

  He hasn’t fallen. They barely knew each other. But that didn’t stop Kate’s bathing suit crotch from growing damp from the natural female response to the pressure of his hard-on.

  She heard Alec try to swallow, looking down at his hands instead of up at her eyes. He stared at them for a long time. “Bru
ised. Battered. Broken.”

  Her heart? Yes, her heart was all those things. “How do you—”

  He looked up, silencing her question. “My hands, I mean.” His eyes were dark and pained. “Are not good enough for your heart.”

  The admission slammed at her chest, making her draw back, not sure she’d heard right.

  But Valaina did just the opposite, practically crawling off her pillow like a tigress moving in for the kill. “And we find the first brick in your wall, Benjamin. You breathed it right out of the way.”

  They simply stared at each other, his hands on her chest, hers on her lap, clutching the edge of the material so his tattoo remained covered.

  “But she loves your hands, right, Tilly?”

  Slowly, Kate nodded.

  “When do you love them most?” Valaina urged. “When he uses them to make love?”

  What would be the most honest answer? The one that would be real to him—and to Valaina. And to Kate. She might love if he used his hands to make love to her—no might about it. But he hadn’t.

  Yet.

  She took in a slow, deep breath as that thought landed on her.

  They hadn’t made love yet. She couldn’t let Madame Valaina know that, and she couldn’t deny the fact that something deep inside of her wanted to make love to him. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to cope with that reality.

  “That’s right, Tilly. Use your breathing, but not so shallow. Deep and slow. Inhale your man. Smother yourself in his aroma. And tell me—”

  “I love when he uses his hands to protect me.”

  His eyes flashed when she said it, appreciating the compliment, as much as anything could be appreciated in this situation.

  “How does it make you feel?” Valaina urged.

  “Less vulnerable,” she answered honestly. The truth of that was as warm and welcome as his hands. Considering that she was furious that a man was taking away her power and control, the fact that he made her feel less vulnerable meant he was doing his job, and doing it quite well.

  Valaina crawled closer, her face only a few feet from theirs. “Benjamin, you must tell your wife exactly why you do not feel your hands are not good enough for her. And, Tilly, you must tell your husband why you feel vulnerable.”