Page 52 of What Doesn't Kill You…

After they'd finished eating, and Max had entertained her family with several stories of his investigative reporting, her mother pushed back her plate and eyed Violet.

"About that dress," she said sweetly.

"Yes!" Violet said with fake enthusiasm. "I can't wait for you to see what I'm wearing for our wedding but," she got to her feet and reached for Max's hand, "we can't do it now. Max and I have his-and-hers massages booked."

The look of astonishment on the faces of her family would have been hilarious if she wasn't trapped in her own version of hell.

"We do?" He cleared his throat and stood beside her. "We do. It's been lovely talking with you. Guess we'll see you at lunch?"

"Yes." Her mother's eyes narrowed. "Let's have it in your bungalow so we can see this dress."

Typical, her mother had always been one step ahead of her kids.

"That sounds perfect," Violet said. "See you later."

She led Max away from the table.

As soon as they were out of earshot, he said, "What are we doing really? I know we don't have massages this morning because when I said we did, you said: over your dead body. That was when I postponed the booking until after our wedding when we aren't on the island."

"We need to have a team meeting," she said. "We're heading to Rodrigo's room. It's the only way to ditch the family."

"They're going to expect you to look all glowing and relaxed after this, you know that right?"

"I'll fake it," she said.

He burst out laughing then held up a hand when she glared at him. "No, seriously, I'm eager to see this. Carry on."

Violet tightened her grip on his hand, wondering why it felt so easy and natural to hold it. The bloody guy was slipping under her defenses. He was like one of those dogs who turn up on your doorstep and never go away. They wore you down with puppy-dog eyes and little whines for attention. Next thing you know, you're sharing your bed with a fleabag and wondering how it happened.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't think I'm going to adopt you like some sort of stray," she said.

He cocked an eyebrow her way. "I'm assuming the first half of this conversation happened in your head. Want to fill me in?"

"Never mind," she said grumpily. "All I'm saying is don't get too comfortable being with me. Our growing ease around each other is purely a matter of proximity."

"Okaaaay," he said. "So, that kiss earlier, was only because I happened to be in the room?"

"The kiss was part of the mission. It was practice. You said so yourself."

"It started out that way then shot straight into the stratosphere," he said. "If I hadn't stopped things, we'd have ended up back in bed."

"No, we wouldn't." That was a lie, but Violet was thinking more clearly now. What happened earlier was an anomaly. They'd barely been awake and hadn't been thinking straight. It was good he stopped things before they both did something they'd regret. Although, part of her wished he'd kept his mouth shut. "You're confusing real life with the needs of the mission. Lots of clients fall in love with their bodyguards. Don't be one of them."

His smile was blinding. And there were dimples.

"So that kiss, that amazingly hot kiss, was just you playing a role for the mission?"

"Yes."

"Wow, that’s miraculous considering you have zero acting skills."

"Stop talking or I will gag you again," she warned him.

"That wouldn't look very romantic, would it?" He released her hand to sling an arm around her shoulders. "We've only gotten to the point where people aren't taking bets on us breaking up. Best not to ruin a good thing. Let's keep the kinky foreplay for our alone time."

Violet gaped up at him. "Seriously? That’s what you think is happening every time I…contain you? That the cuffs and gags and drugging is foreplay?"

"Every couple has their quirks," Max said. "We have a communication mismatch. I like to communicate verbally, and you like to communicate physically. We'll work it out."