Sadie.
Whatever she’d said about not giving him his massage, he had absolutely no doubt about who was standing behind him right now.
‘Are you ready, sir?’ she whispered, obviously trying to disguise her voice. ‘I’m going to start with a simple massage. Let me know if the pressure is okay.’
She didn’t want him to know it was her. But how could he not, when the first touch of her oiled fingers against his back made his whole body spark with excitement? Every movement she made was utterly professional—he’d never expect anything less from Sadie. But the feelings it left him with...
He was pretty sure that no massage in history had ever been less relaxing than this one.
* * *
This was torture. Actual cruel and unusual punishment for a crime she didn’t fully remember committing.
Keeping her hands as smooth and steady as she could as they moved across the planes of Dylan’s back, Sadie kept a running stream of mental curses going in her head. Mostly cursing the poor staff member who’d been sent home sick, leaving them short-handed. But partly cursing herself, too, for saying she’d take care of Dylan’s massage.
She was the boss. She could have ordered anyone else to swap with her or take care of it. Instead, she’d decided to put herself through this.
She really was a glutton for punishment.
Staying professional, that was the key. It wasn’t like she hadn’t massaged beautiful people before, even a few famous ones. The trick was to treat them exactly the same way you’d treat anyone else. A body was just a body, when all was said and done, and they all needed the same care, love and attention to work away their worries and their aches.
It was just that this body was one she’d been thinking about for far longer than she cared to admit.
Focussing on the muscle groups helped, remembering every lesson she’d ever been taught about effective massage. She knew just where to press and where to hold back. She was good at this. She was a professional.
She was absolutely not thinking about what was underneath that very small towel.
Eventually, her time was up, and hopefully Dylan would never ask why he’d only had a back massage instead of a full-body one.
Stepping away, her heart still pumping too fast, Sadie murmured, ‘I’ll leave you to dress.’
‘Thanks, Sadie.’ His words were almost slurred, like he was too relaxed to articulate properly, but still they caused every muscle in her body to stiffen.
‘How did you know?’ she asked.
‘I always know when you’re near me.’ Adjusting his towel to cover him, Dylan levered himself up and swung round to sit on the edge of the table. ‘I always have.’
It was too much. The softness in his voice against the heat in his eyes. The implications of his words and the knowledge that just moments before she’d had her hands all over his body. Knowing that they were so close now he could touch her almost without moving. Her blood seemed too much and too hot for her body—hotter than it had ever been in any of the steam rooms.
All too, too much.
Business. That’s all this was.
Sadie stepped back, away, and cleared her throat. ‘Um, we have someone off sick, so I’ve been called in to cover. So I’ll let you get on with enjoying the pool and so on. It’ll be good for you to, uh, keep relaxing.’
Dylan nodded, slowly. ‘Or maybe I’ll just try the cold plunge pool again.’
‘Whatever works.’ She refused to think about why he might need the ice water, even for a moment.
‘Will I see you for dinner?’ he asked.
She wanted to say yes, but she couldn’t. The wanting in his eyes...she knew exactly where that could lead, if they let it. And even if she’d thought last night that was what she wanted, seeing it now terrified her. This wasn’t what she’d brought him to her spa for, not at all.
Dylan didn’t do commitment, and she’d already committed too much. Wasn’t that why she’d brought him there in the first place? To show him exactly how much she belonged at the Azure? So what good could come from giving in to those feelings now?
‘Not tonight, I’m afraid,’ she said, trying to sound apologetic. ‘I need to type up my proposal for you, remember? But there’s a Turkish night in the restaurant. I’ve booked you a table.’
‘Fantastic.’ Sadie ignored the total lack of enthusiasm in his voice. ‘What about tomorrow?’
Tomorrow. His next-to-last day. She couldn’t leave him alone again, but whatever they did needed to involve a lot more clothes than the last couple of days had. And preferably no easy access to a bed.
‘Ephesus.’ The word blurted out of her. ‘I thought I’d take you to see the ruins at Ephesus.’
‘Another big tourist attraction, I suppose.’ How was his tone still so even, so steady when her own voice seemed to be getting squeakier by the second?
‘The biggest. So, I’ll see you in the lobby in the morning. Usual time.’
‘If that’s what you want.’
It wasn’t. What she really wanted was to jump him, right here in the massage room. But what she needed to do was get back to work and put this whole afternoon behind her.
‘It is.’
She’d do a shift in the spa, remind herself why she loved it so much. Then she’d spend the evening on Skype with Finn and her parents and dealing with the hotel admin.
She needed to remember all the things that really mattered in her world. And forget the feeling of Dylan’s cool skin under her hands.
Or else she might go insane.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DYLAN PACED THE lobby the next morning, waiting for Sadie. Who was late. Very late. For the first time since he’d arrived in Turkey.
Turning as he reached the automatic doors, too late to stop them opening for him, he headed back towards the large windows showcasing that brilliant view of the Aegean Sea. He tried to appreciate the view, but his mind was too preoccupied with wondering how the day was going to play out.
The rules had changed yesterday, that much had been obvious the moment he’d sat up on that massage table and looked into her eyes. The heat and want he’d seen reflected there had echoed his own so perfectly he couldn’t help but think it was only a matter of time before they had to do something about it or explode. This wasn’t a drunken attempt at a kiss in a lift, or a moment of madness brought on by a romantic hotel room. Sadie Sullivan wanted him, maybe as much as he want
ed her. And despite every complication, every reason he knew he shouldn’t, Dylan wasn’t sure he’d make it out of Kusadasi without doing something about that.
Except she was late, and he didn’t know which Sadie was going to turn up today—buttoned-up business Sadie, old friend Sadie, or the Sadie who’d tried to kiss him the other night.
Yes, the rules had changed, to the point that Dylan wasn’t even sure what game they were playing any more. If they were playing at all.
Ephesus. That was the plan for today. Ancient ruins, stones and sand and history. A big tourist draw, sure, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that wasn’t why Sadie was taking him there. More likely she was trying to get him somewhere safe—away from temptation and lost in someone else’s history instead of their own.
Pity it would never work.
Besides, he wasn’t interested in history today. He wanted to talk to her about the future.
Dylan had spent his solitary evening making plans, researching and brainstorming. He’d been looking for a way to set the hotel chain he’d recently taken over apart from the norm, and a spa range of the calibre of Sadie’s could be just what he needed. Sure, it wasn’t unique, but it was good and profitable, according to his preliminary research. He’d know more when his assistant got back to him with the stats and figures he’d requested.
Then he’d just need to talk to Sadie about it. He liked to hope she’d be excited about the new opportunity, but knowing Sadie he suspected that pulling her away from the old one would be the real challenge.
Turning to head back towards the doors, he caught sight of the Azure logo on the reception desk, and almost smiled. Just a few days ago seeing the name would have been enough to make him scowl. But now... Sadie had changed the way he thought about the Azure. About many things.
The lift dinged and the doors opened, revealing Sadie in a light and breezy sundress, a straw hat perched on her head. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said, without much apology in her voice. ‘Let’s get going.’
Dylan followed, trying not to read too much into the fact she’d barely looked at him.