Tropical Safeguard (Men Of The Secret Service) by Stella Kelly Page B

“Yes,
that sounds, um, interesting.”

 
 
 
 
    Chapter
Five
    Slinking cautiously from the change-room,
Katrina gauged Agent Nielsen’s level of uneasiness at around a nine out of ten.
She couldn’t hide the grin that pulled at the corner of her mouth. “You can put
your robe on that hook there,” she pointed.
    The muscular agent took off the bulky
white robe and did as he was asked.   Left in a very short white towel that barely covered his manhood, it
took all of Katrina’s power to contain her gasp at the sight of him, but she
hid it well, maintaining a professionalism that she hoped would put him at ease
a little. As discretely as possible, she glanced at his firm thigh muscles, his
bulging arms, solid chest and taught six-pack before turning toward a small
wooden table that held bottles of lotions and bowls of aromatic essential oils.
The vision of his body burned in her mind long after turning away from him. It
was impossible to ignore the twinges of excitement she felt between her thighs.
There was no denying the magnetic pull she felt toward this man.
    She turned slightly toward him, sensing
his need for direction. He fidgeted and she could tell he felt exposed and
vulnerable as he walked across the small private patio to the sturdy massage
table that faced the nearby ocean. Katrina loved how the white canvas cloth
attached to the top of each post created the illusion of a billowing white
ceiling and gave the space a gentle shade. Each post had a white drape hanging
down beside it that blew in the breeze like something out of a romance novel.
How could he not be swept away by the tranquility of this peaceful, magical
place.
    “Up here?” he asked.
    “Yes, please.”
    She noticed him pause as he reached the
white terrycloth-covered table that rested between four tall posts. It was as
if he debated how to get onto the table without exposing himself and his
dilemma forced her to contain a giggle. Turning away, she gave him a moment of
privacy, hearing a slight grunt as he hoisted himself up.
    “Lay on your front and make yourself
comfortable,” she instructed over her shoulder. She was careful to hide her
growing nervousness; hopeful the slight shake in her voice hadn’t betrayed her.

 
                                        <><><>

 
    Cole
stretched out facing down, his body unable to relax if his life depended on it.
He was never one to relax anyway; it just wasn’t in his nature. Restless and
apprehensive, the whole idea of a massage frazzled him, and having one
performed by Katrina made his blood boil with nerves. It was a hyper-awareness
bordering on nausea. Being in close proximity to her, and having her touch him
no less, was beyond intense, despite the beauty of the surroundings. Cole
didn’t trust his body not to respond appropriately to the situation and the
thought made him even more nervous.
    “So, have you been giving people massages
often?” Cole winced at the question. It sounded contrived and silly; like some
sort of cheesy pick-up line.
    Katrina giggled. “Um, no. I only give
Mrs. Winters massages, but I have given Gloria a few too since I arrived here.
She works her butt off so I offer to give her the odd massage because she
deserves them. Mr. Winters has never requested one, and neither have Jacque or
Damien. Mrs. Winters was actually the first person I ever gave a massage to
aside from my fellow students where I took the course. I’ve taken courses on
all sorts of therapeutic treatments in my spare time. After graduating, I found
myself yearning to be at the Pilates studio after a hard days work at the
office.”
    “Where did you work?” Cole asked, a
little surprised.
    He noticed Katrina hesitate. “Um, Kilroy
Financial.”
    “Wow, as in Cameron Kilroy?”
    “Yes, the very same.”
    “Cameron Kilroy is notorious for his
ruthless business merges. My brother Mackenzie is in the financial industry and
Cameron Kilroy is infamous.