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“I know that, you know that. She didn’t.” She blew out a breath and fanned herself. “It’s hot in here.”

He gave her a knowing look, but thankfully didn’t comment on her burning cheeks. “What are we waiting for?”

“I presume the therapists will come and get us when they’re ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Ready to give us our first treatment. A facial.”

Luke’s eyes looked like they were on stalks. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“You signed up for the full treatment,” she pointed out.

“I ticked the box you ticked,” he growled. “How was I supposed to know what it entailed?”

Oh God, this was going to be fun. “You’ll enjoy it. Your skin will feel amazing afterwards. All smooth and revitalized.”

A strangled noise came from his throat. “What else did I unwittingly sign up for?”

She gave him a saccharine smile. “I think I’ll keep the rest of the day as a surprise. It will be so much more enjoyable that way.”

He narrowed his eyes. “For you or for me?”

“Oh, for me. Definitely for me.”

He gave another of his deep sighs and muttered something under his breath that sounded like I’m not ready for this.

Just as she thought she’d gained the upper hand, he stood up and shrugged off his robe.

Holy cow.

She’d seen his body in the hallway, covered in a towel, from a distance. Seeing it up close was a whole different matter.

She knew she was staring, probably she was even drooling, but she could not drag her eyes away from the chiseled, muscular, maleness in front of her. Strapping shoulders, pecs she could bounce coins off, abs she could count, the sexy V that male models and actors had but, in her experience, ordinary guys didn’t. A trail of dark hair that began under his belly button and snuck down beneath his plain black trunks.

Don’t look at the outline of his penis. Don’t look . . .

“Anna.” Guiltily she dragged her gaze up to his amused one.

“What?”

“You’re staring.”

She flapped her hands at him. “Well there’s a lot to . . . umm . . . stare at.” Acutely conscious that at some point today she was going to have to reveal her swimsuit clad body to him, she pulled the tie on her robe tighter. “Why did you take your robe off?”

“I’m not good at sitting.” He nodded over to the swimming pool. “I’m going for a swim.”

“You can’t.” When he frowned, she pointed to his upper arm. “I checked. We can’t immerse our tattoos in water for a couple of weeks.”

“Of course we can’t,” he muttered, sitting back with a frustrated exhale.

“Look on the bright side.”

He gave her a pained look. “You’re sure there’s a bright side?”

“Oh yes. We get lunch in two hours.” She grinned. “How are you with egg white spinach omelets and quinoa salad?”

He slammed his eyes shut and sank back against the lounger.