He can never resist a dangerous challenge…especially when the chemistry is volcanically hot. Welcome to the first book of Rebecca Hunter’s Fantasy Island trilogy!

For daredevil and extreme athlete Daxon Miles, free solo climbing is as necessary as breathing. Just him facing off against the face of a mountain. No gear, no ropes…just the exhilaration of success. One wrong move and it’s all over. So being on enforced “rest and relaxation” in Hawaii before a major climb is seriously killing him. Fortunately, there isn’t a single restful thing about the woman at his door…

Kendall Clark. The hot-as-hell physical therapist who took over Daxon’s fantasies six months ago after they shared a scorching, hungry kiss. Now she’s here at the ultraluxe exclusive Kalani resort, still as cautious as ever. But Daxon can’t resist a challenge…and Kendall is his ultimate distraction.

Drowning in her kisses, her taste, her skin. It’s a dangerous precipice of temptation and lust…and something else that neither of them are ready to admit. But when it comes to conquering deadly heights, fear is the enemy. And falling for Kendall is the one thing guaranteed to put them both in danger…

Step into stories of provocative romance where sexual fantasies come true. Let your inhibitions run wild with Harlequin DARE.

Award-winning author of sensual, emotional adventures of the heart, REBECCA HUNTER writes sexy stories about alpha men and spirited women set in Australia for Mills & Boon DARE. She lives with her family in the San Francisco Bay Area.

And don’t forget to check out Rebecca Hunter’s Blackmore, Inc. series

Best Laid Plans

Playing with Fire

Baring It All

Hotter on Ice

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Pure Temptation

Rebecca Hunter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09958-5

PURE TEMPTATION

© 2020 Rebecca Hunter

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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To Megan and Maneesha, who entertained the topics

of free-climbing, adrenaline sports and cautionary

tales on an Inspiration Point hike, and to the group of

climbers I accosted while on a walk in the Berkeley

Hills, especially Alicia, who answered all my probing

questions. Thanks to Kim Ryan, former hotshot and

current hotshot wife, for detailed clarifications (all

mistakes are my own, of course), and thanks to both

Stacy Finz and Kira for yet another round of insightful

beta comments. Can you tell that it truly takes a

village to build a book? I’m so lucky to have mine.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

TAP, TAP.

The knock on the front door of the cabin came in the open window, cutting through the sounds of the shower just as Daxon Miles was turning it off. He scrubbed his face and searched the ultramodern bathroom for a clock, but all he saw was tile, glass, and the wooden box filled with hibiscus-scented soaps and shampoos he had passed over earlier. How long had he stood under the shower, letting the water run over his body? After a long plane ride, it was surprising just how satisfying something as simple as hot water felt.

Tap, tap.

“Just a minute,” he called.

Daxon grabbed a towel and scrubbed the water from his hair, then wrapped it around his waist. The towel was just long enough to secure, though not by a wide margin. He would have thought that a super-exclusive resort like this would lean toward overindulgent for everything, including towel length, but like the rest of the bathroom, minimalism seemed to be the guiding principle. He stepped out through the glass door, his body drinking in the humid Hawaiian heat.

“It’s your personal healing coach.”

The sentence wafted through the window, hitting him hard in the middle of his chest. Daxon froze mid-stride. What the hell? It wasn’t the sarcasm dripping from those last three words that had his heart jumping in his chest. It was the voice.

Her voice. The sound of it flooded him with the same liquid heat he had fought off six months ago.

Impossible. It couldn’t be her…could it? No, it couldn’t. The hot shower, the beautiful beachside location, the Kalani Resort itself with its wish-fulfillment promise must have lulled him into a fantasy world where she was here, too. But that couldn’t be right.

The doctor’s strict orders to put his well-known focus on chilling out must be messing with his head. Why else would his mind have wandered to Kendall Clark? Back to those days in his suite in a different resort, the lush breeze blowing the curtains, when she was his physical therapist and he was trying not to be yet another douchey client with a hard-on. But her hands had felt soft and good in a way no physical therapist’s should—or had. And he had spent too much time wondering if the rest of her body was just as soft. Oh, how he had wanted to take her to bed on his final night there when they’d kissed, spend the whole night exploring her…except it didn’t happen. Which must be why he was hearing her voice, six months later, on the other side of the world.

“Be right there,” he called, pushing those memories away.

His focus here at the Kalani was getting himself back in top shape for the Moonlight Buttress free solo that’d be filmed live in two weeks. No ropes, no safety measures to fall back on. And absolutely no distractions. Which meant no thinking about Kendall Clark.

Daxon headed out of the bathroom, into the main room of his private cabin. Halfway across the floor, it occurred to him to grab a hold of his towel to keep it in place—because he didn’t need his junk hanging out. He made his way to the door, took a deep breath and turned the handle.

“Listen, I lost track of—” Daxon stopped mid-sentence, mouth gaping as he swung the door open and he caught sight of the woman standing in front of him.

Kendall Clark.

Was it really her? She seemed very real in the little entryway, cheeks flushed, her big brown eyes round, framed by the longest lashes—just like he remembered. He stared at those eyes, blinking, a little dazed. Her gaze swooped down, over his bare chest, then up again to his mouth, and his whole body prickled with awareness. His ultimate distraction was standing right in front of him…wasn’t she? He lifted a hand to reach for her, to make sure she was real. Halfway there, he thought better of it, so he rested that hand on the doorframe, trying to jump-start his stalled thoughts.

What the hell was going on right now? Was all this Hawaiian heat having some sort of rock-to-the-head effect? Because what he was seeing was Kendall, dressed in a red Kalani Wellness polo shirt and shorts that exposed miles of her lean, tanned legs. The same legs he had ached to touch for one, tantalizing week. Her long hair was back in a ponytail, the way she’d worn it in Costa Rica when she had knelt down… Shit. Not what he should be thinking about.

Daxon blinked a couple times, but Kendall was still there, staring at him. She was holding a tablet and looking all business. Or at least, she had been a few moments ago. Now she was gaping at him, too.

Her eyes narrowed. “Is this your way of saying hello?”

What? He gave himself a little shake and furrowed his brow. As her gaze traveled down his body, instinctively he looked down, too, and—fuck.

His hand was resting on the doorframe, which meant it was no longer holding his towel up. His brain hadn’t even registered that he dropped it, but clearly, his dick had been a lot quicker to believe that she was real.

“Shit,” he muttered. Daxon grabbed his towel off the floor and wrapped it around his waist again, but that did nothing to hide his growing hard-on.

Slick, Dax. Really subtle.

He straightened up and met her eyes again. “You might not believe this, but that was an accident.”

She gestured to his cock. “And that is, too?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Daxon rubbed the back of his neck—with his free hand this time.

Then he found himself just staring at her again, his brain still malfunctioning, trying to process the fact that Kendall was really here. She stared back for a bit, and then a burst of laughter came from her sexy mouth. He blew out a breath and smiled. This was ridiculous. Thank God she didn’t look too pissed. Maybe he wasn’t the first asshole to drop his towel for her, though he really hoped this wasn’t one of her occupational hazards.

Finally, she caught her breath and gave him a look that suggested something between amusement and exasperation. “Classy.”

“That’s me. Come on in,” he said before his mind could fall into another gutter.

He stepped aside, and Kendall wandered into the main room of his cabin. A zing of raw attraction ran through him as she passed by, and Daxon paused in the hall and ran a hand through his hair, trying to get a handle on the situation. He had come to the Kalani to fully heal, away from public eyes, and she was his physical therapist? Either this was the world’s most improbable coincidence…or something else was going on. Daxon was betting everything on the latter, and he needed to figure out what that something was.

He watched her as she wandered over to peek at the view of the ocean through the French doors. She looked…different. What was it? Her hair was lighter, streaked with hints of blond. The taper of her waist, the curve of her hips, those fit legs—her body was just as distracting as before. Her skin tone was a little darker, from all the Hawaiian sun no doubt, but there was something else.

“You look good,” he said, following her in. “More…relaxed.”

That’s what it was. There was an ease to her that he hadn’t seen the last time.

Kendall turned. “Thanks, I think. You look very…relaxed, too.” She gestured to his current state of undress. “Well, most of you.”

There was a hint of a smile on her lips, a good sign. But after that full-frontal greeting, he needed to tone this the fuck down.

“I’ll put on some clothes. In case you’ve seen enough of me for the day.”

She waved him off. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Daxon frowned. She had thrown out that comment in the most casual tone, like getting a peek at him naked was just another part of her day, somewhere between taping up an injured wrist and paperwork. Not that she was supposed to be jumping with joy at seeing his dick, unsolicited, but, well, wasn’t she at least a little…impressed?

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he grumbled over his shoulder. But as he turned away, he caught her gaze wandering lower, like she was checking him out. Or at least he thought he saw it. Maybe that was his ego talking, but a guy could hope.

Daxon headed for the bedroom and shut himself in the large walk-in closet. He rested his forehead against the door and let out a quiet groan. Focus. Kendall Clark, the star of far too many of his fantasies, was sitting on the couch, a dozen steps away from his bedroom, and he still had the lingering remains of a hard-on. Time to get this situation under control.

Goal number one: fully heal his injured calf so he could face off with Moonlight Buttress on schedule. Goal number two: keep his overeager cock down and safely covered. Because Kendall didn’t strike him as the kind of woman who enjoyed a flasher. Even if she may have been checking him out.

He grabbed a pair of shorts and T-shirt and slipped them on. He ran his hand through his wet hair a couple times and hung his towel on a hook, then rested his hand on the door handle.

Apparently his brain had started working again because he was almost sure he knew who had set this up. Calvin. His business partner and producer’s last words before he got on the plane to Hawaii sank in. I arranged a special wish for you, one I know you’ll love. The asshole had set this up, probably assuming that Daxon had, in fact, slept with her back in Costa Rica and wouldn’t mind a repeat. Dax had guessed Calvin’s wish for him would be misguided, but this was an epic miss. Because spending hours a day with hot-as-hell Kendall Clark was the polar opposite of relaxation. More like excruciatingly tense. Hard in every way.

Kendall Clark didn’t do hesitant, fumbling girlishness. Definitely not around high-profile men in general, and especially not around Daxon Miles in particular. So as soon as Daxon left the room, Kendall plopped down on the sofa and took deep breaths, trying to get her runaway pulse under control. Because despite all the rehearsals in front of her bathroom mirror, that greeting didn’t go anything like the one she’d planned.

In the entryway, as her eyes had wandered south, a rush of tempting heat had spread through her, shutting off all reasonable thought. Then the memories of Costa Rica flooded back. Seven long days of trying to ignore all those perfect, taut muscles. That sharp pull of sexual interest that came anyway each time she touched him, each time she felt him move under her hands. As she tried like hell to focus on her job.

She could sense it all starting again: the client crush she never should have had, the one she had tried so hard to resist, was taking hold. And she definitely didn’t do celebrity client crushes.

Plus, Daxon Miles made her nervous. Kendall had assumed his love of danger was all an act, a show he put on for his bazillions of YouTube followers. Who the hell in his right mind would actually want to dive off cliffs just for fun? But after a week in Costa Rica with him, she was forced to admit that, number one, he truly did love these stunts, and number two, he wasn’t crazy. Okay, number three, he was hot as sin, but she wasn’t counting that realization.

She might have even written him off. It wasn’t like she’d never had a hot, ultra-fit client before. But the conversation she’d had with him back then about the difference between high risk and high consequence—the one that stretched long beyond working hours—had her questioning all her safe choices. The things he had said that last night in Costa Rica had stayed with her, bubbling inside when she was debating whether or not to accept a job at the Kalani Resort and move to Hawaii. With enough preparation, Daxon really was up for just about anything, and she…well, over the past six months, she was trying harder to be. But ignoring her risk-averse nature certainly didn’t come easily.

When Sheila Alleyne, the Kalani’s mysterious “wish maker,” had contacted her about this assignment, she’d said Daxon Miles had specially requested her. Though each guest at the resort was entitled to a “wish”—a special request to be fulfilled during their stay—she had never heard of a personal request like this. Wishes were usually more along the lines of a personal chef or a paragliding instructor, and Sheila and the staff took care of it. Kendall had tried hard not to waste her time contemplating questions like How the hell did he know I was here? or Do I just ignore the scorching-hot kiss that happened in Costa Rica while my hands are on his thighs? Instead, she’d focused on the reason she hoped he’d requested her: because she was a damn good physical therapist. Thorough, methodical and careful.

But for a guy who had personally asked for her, Daxon had seemed awfully surprised to see her at his door. Then again, her first clue that she wasn’t getting the full story was in Sheila’s words: he also wished for you as a personal healing coach. The Daxon Miles she knew would never use words like that. The man wasn’t really the type to wish for help with anything. And what the hell did that title mean? The only service she was giving him this week was physical therapy.

Her last assignment with him in Costa Rica had been her most memorable as a travelling physical therapist for many reasons… Daxon being one of them. Kendall had started to think her memories had mixed with fantasy, overexaggerating his appeal. But no. When he opened the door earlier, tousled wet hair, strong jaw and piercing grey-green eyes, she remembered why she had turned him down that last night. Daxon Miles was trouble. Shirtless, his hard, lean muscles flexed in stark relief. Up close, the raw sexuality of his body was almost irresistible. Another wave of heat rippled through her. Trouble. Especially for her, who seemed to have been born with an extra-large caution gene.

Daxon entered the room again, and the scent of him—freshly showered and very male—wafted in the air. She shivered as he brushed by her. Definitely trouble.

He took a seat at a safe distance on the couch and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. All the surprise from their greeting was gone, and in its place, he was giving her that smile. The one that said he knew exactly what effect he had on women. He had been melting panties with it for years between all the skydives and cliff dives and free climbs, if the tabloids were to be believed. She should know better, but that look was pulling her in.

“I promise I won’t flash you again,” he said, eyes glittering. “Unless you ask for it.”

“You know, most people start conversations with ‘hello’ or ‘how have you been?’”

His smile spread wider. “Do you really think I’m aiming to be like most people?”

Everyone with internet access knew the answer to that.

“Let’s just get this started.” Kendall opened her tablet and found the bullet points for the introduction. “Welcome to the Kalani,” she said, reading straight from the notes, in her best professional voice. “I want to make sure your stay is everything you want it to be.”

Kendall almost rolled her eyes. Everything you want it to be. Yeah, that definitely had sexy overtones.

She scanned the rest of the key talking points Sheila had given her for the meeting. The wording of the resort’s welcome was carefully chosen so as to flatter—and not to bruise any egos. God forbid. But she got the feeling that the whole Fantasy Island appeal of the Kalani Resort would take this conversation in the wrong direction. Time to go off-script.

“What are you doing here, Daxon?”

He blinked at her in surprise, then frowned. “Taking a break, healing my calf. Relaxing.” He said that last word with plenty of sarcasm. “Lying low before my next filming. My producer’s the cautious type, and he thinks this is the best option.”

“I see,” she said slowly. “He’s the one who booked your stay here, right?”

Daxon nodded.

“So you don’t want to be here?”

He hesitated, rubbing his jaw. “I do.” His gaze was laser-sharp, and she squirmed under his scrutiny. It felt like he was planning, calculating, waiting for the right moment to…what? Drop his towel? No, he already did that. But the pull she had felt six months ago was just as strong now, like they were picking up right where they left off that last night.

In the hallway of a luxury hotel in Costa Rica, lit by the setting sun, oh, Lord, what a kiss they’d had. The whole world had been his soft mouth and his hard body, moving against hers. The feel of it was still so easy to recall, the physical memories, dreamy and ethereal. His big calloused hand cupping her jaw. Hungry strokes of his tongue as their hips fit together. Gasping for breath as he came in for more. And the hunger in his eyes as she broke the kiss off, long after it had gotten out of hand. The memory was still vivid. Very vivid. But she could think about that later…after she got through this first session.

“Let’s get started,” she said again. She scrolled through his files on her tablet until she found the one she was looking for: the doctor’s report she’d reviewed a few days before. “You tore your calf a few weeks ago, Grade 1, and it still hasn’t fully healed.” She looked up at Daxon. “The doctor thinks the slow healing is a combination of not enough physical rest and possibly stress.”

Daxon shrugged. “I doubt it’s stress. I have the best job in the world. Cliff diving last season, rock climbing this season and a bunch of other adventures planned for the future.”

“But a free solo climb has absolutely no margin for error. One missed foothold, one loose rock, one bee sting—if anything goes wrong, you could die.”

He nodded solemnly, and for a moment she thought she was getting her point through to him, but then he smiled. “That’s why people love to watch it.”

His raspy voice strummed something inside her, but Kendall was trying hard not to be swayed by it, or his enthusiasm. He made it all sound so natural, so…sane. “You’re talking about the rush of all this, but you have to understand that at some level this is stressful, both physically and mentally, even if it’s fun. You jumped out of an airplane with no parachute a few months ago, for God’s sake.”

Daxon flashed her a cheeky grin. “Did you watch?”

This man was incorrigible.

“Maybe,” she hedged. “Just to make sure you got to the ground safely.”

Daxon waved off the comment. “I trusted my partner enough to put my life in his hands. Besides, Calvin wouldn’t have shown the footage if I didn’t make it.”

“Good point,” said Kendall.

He winked at her mischievously. “Which is why my free climb of Moonlight Buttress is going to have a live broadcasting element. Everyone will be watching, wondering if I’ll make it. One slip of my fingers and…” He lifted his hands in surrender, adding, “It ups the stakes.”

“Aaaand now we have the answer to where your added stress level is coming from.”

Daxon’s smile turned cocky.

“Not a chance. I thrive on the pressure. And I perform best that way, too.” He lifted his eyebrows as that last sentence left his lips. “Just in case you’re wondering.”

It was the kind of thing a guy said right before he headed into bedroom talk. She could tell Daxon’s mind went there for a moment by the way his eyes glittered with heat. And despite the fact that it was one step away from a bad pick-up line, that tempting heat traveled right through her body. Don’t get distracted.

“I’m sure your performances are…fine,” she said evenly. His eyes narrowed at that last word. “But that’s still stress, and it has to come out somehow. In your case, it could be taking on physical manifestations.”

“Like tension, which means the slow healing of my calf muscles?”

“Exactly.”

“I see,” said Daxon.

He actually looked serious, like he was really considering what she was saying. He was quiet, staring out the open French doors at the ocean, but she got the feeling he wasn’t seeing it.

And for just a moment, she wondered what it was like to be Daxon Miles. He probably didn’t even let himself think about his own vulnerabilities two weeks before a free solo climb. He’d have to have shut all his doubts out long ago, build a wall so they didn’t creep in. Kendall knew exactly how people like this worked. She’d grown up with a man like this in her very own home.

She studied Daxon for an extra beat. “Can we rewind back to when you answered the door a bit ago?”

“Sure.”

“What would you have done if someone else had been standing outside your door, someone you didn’t know?”

Daxon laughed. “Well, for starters, I wouldn’t have dropped my towel.”

Yeah, right. Her face must have said exactly that because he tilted his head to the side, his brow wrinkling.

“Truthfully, I probably would have sent someone else away today. I’d also probably dodge them a few times this week, just for a little space.” His mouth turned up, sliding back into his signature grin. “But I’m definitely not going to dodge you.”

Damn. One-on-one with this man for seven days? He was already distracting her after fifteen minutes. It was time for a new plan, a better one. The plan she had decided on before she knocked on the door—resist his charm—wasn’t going to hold up for long. At this point, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to avoid this particular brand of trouble anymore…

“My turn for a question,” he said. “At dinner that night in Costa Rica, you said you were traveling to Hawaii for your next assignment. Is that when you got this job?”

Kendall shook her head slowly. She was a little thrown off by the fact that he actually remembered a detail like that from their conversation. But she shouldn’t be. There was an intensity to him when they were alone, like every ounce of his attention was on her.

“That assignment never panned out,” she said. “But I couldn’t get Hawaii out of my mind.”

He looked out the window, and she did, too. Across the patio and his private pool, through the palm trees, the ocean spread out in front of them, a sparkling blanket of blue.

“I understand why,” said Daxon softly.

“Costa Rica was gorgeous, too,” she said. “That night at dinner, I got the feeling you loved it there, like you were considering staying. What’s stopping you?”

Daxon’s forehead wrinkled as he seemed to consider his answer. “I don’t have any desire to stop traveling, to stop exploring new places, but I wouldn’t mind a little beach house somewhere to come back to.”

“You could still get one.”

He tilted his head, studying her. “My turn again. And tell the truth.”

Kendall crossed her arms, trying to resist the twitch at the corners of her mouth. “Ask away.”

“I want to go back to that hallway in Costa Rica. That kiss was…” His voice trailed off, and his smile turned hungry. “You can fill in that last word yourself. But something made you stop. What was it?”

Of course he wanted to discuss that. Though she supposed it was better to get this topic out of the way from the start.

“The obvious. You hired me.” She shrugged, as if that kiss hadn’t been a big deal. As if she hadn’t replayed it in her mind too many times.

“But the job was over,” he said. “And I’m not into mixing work with pleasure, either. The idea of you feeling obligated in some way to have sex is a boner-killer for me.”

She shook her head. “Thank you for that TMI moment.”

Daxon’s laugh was so real, so deep and easy and infectious, and Kendall found herself smiling, too. His laughter waned, leaving a glint of determination in his eyes.

“Do the same rules apply between us now?” His voice was low and sexy, making this question even more torturous.

Lord, he was tempting. Could there possibly be a way to explore this attraction and still keep her principles firmly in place? Kendall sighed. “I haven’t decided.”

“If we chose to explore…mutual pleasure this week, could it in any way interfere with your career? In theory, of course.”

The word pleasure rolled off his beautiful lips, echoing through her. More physical memories came back. The hard, defined muscles of Daxon’s biceps moving, flexing beneath her hands as he slid his tongue over hers. She shook her head again. “Not that I’m aware of. Though it’s not exactly the reputation I’m cultivating here.”

“Noted,” he said, and he sounded a little more serious. At least he seemed to understand that part. “I can keep my mouth shut.”

“Noted,” she said, giving him what she hoped was a dry smile. “I’ll take it under consideration.”

His signature grin curved seductively at the corners of his mouth, like he was considering it, too. In detail.

His sharp gaze was on her again. His hand stopped halfway down his jaw. There was heat in his eyes along with something that looked an awful lot like resolve. He was deciding something, and she was almost sure it was about her.

He rose from the couch and stretched, his T-shirt lifting, exposing the sculpted abs and dark trail of hair that led into his shorts. Was she gawking at him again? Kendall swallowed and met his eyes.

He flashed her a smile, a mix of amusement and challenge. “Well, if stress is why my muscles aren’t relaxing, I think we should start right away with my welcome massage.”

Kendall’s face flushed as she leveled her gaze on him. “This isn’t the kind of massage that has a happy ending.”

When Daxon’s smile broadened, still hot and even more determined, she knew she was in so much trouble. “If anyone’s getting a happy ending today, it’s you.”

CHAPTER TWO

WAS THAT LAST comment a little too much? Maybe, but Daxon had made a decision, and once he put his mind to something, he couldn’t let up. His brain had kicked back into gear, and he had decided to pursue the most obvious route, the perfect relaxation plan, one they’d both enjoy. He had never had much success at reducing his intensity level, but he could switch his focus.

His attraction to Kendall was a little dizzying, but that was likely just because he had resisted it—of course, her appeal had intensified when she walked away after a hot-as-hell kiss. His mind had filled in all the details that his body had missed out on that night. Solution: instead of spending another week trying not to picture Kendall Clark underneath him, they could have a little fun, get this thing between them out of their systems.

Besides, he needed a really good distraction, something to take his mind off the fact that he’d rather be in Zion National Park right now, preparing to climb Moonlight Buttress. Thinking about that had driven him crazy today. Thinking about sex with Kendall was a stellar alternative, and he had one glorious week to divert himself with it. But she looked far from convinced, which meant he had to get this next part right: keep her laughing and figure out her hesitations and limits. Make it clear from the beginning that getting naked with him meant plenty of fun for her, too. And no more flashing your hard-on, buddy.

Daxon gave her a playful wink. “Satisfaction guaranteed.”

She cracked a little grin. Slowly, it grew wider until her whole face lit up in a beautiful, thousand-watt smile. “You’re relentless.”

“That’s my strength,” he said. “For better or for worse.”

It felt so good to see her again. A whole week with Kendall stretched in front of him, and his smile just wouldn’t quit. She stood, smoothing her tiny shorts over her long legs. Daxon loved any challenge, and this one involved a hot woman whom he’d thought about too much…in the shower, most often. His mind was going in a dozen different directions right now, but it was time to focus and let her do her job.

He rubbed his hands together, quirked an eyebrow at her and nodded to the massage table. “You can go first if you want.”

She rolled her eyes. “Climb up, champ. I want to check out your leg.” She walked over to the table and spread a towel over one half, and he climbed on. “I’m going to start by feeling around and moving your leg to get a sense of what’s going on. Let me know how it feels.”

He nodded.

Kendall moved to his left side, her attention focused completely on his leg, which meant he was free to watch her work. And not stare down her shirt, since he was pretty sure that would fall under obnoxious client behavior. He respected that. After a few unsolicited kisses by women when he was in front of the camera, he understood that there were many reasons why it could put her in a tricky position. So seeing her off duty was the—

“Ooooh,” he groaned as her fingers gently kneaded the top of his calf. “Right there.”

“Does it hurt?” She moved her hands farther down and to the sides, testing.

Daxon shook his head. “Just a little tight.”

She moved to the base of the table and picked up his foot, flexing it gently.

“Still okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Rarely hurts anymore. I’m just trying not to push it too hard this week. Which means mandatory R&R for me.” Daxon sighed. Some people just weren’t built to relax, and he was one of them. This week he’d work on his core and hand strength while going easy on his legs—that was the best he could do.

She put down his foot and rested her hands on the table. “I don’t see anything worrisome at this point, but I agree that three weeks is a bit long for a Class 1 tear to heal. Though if you’re still the same person as you were in Costa Rica, I’d guess the reason for the slow recovery is that you’re still pushing yourself too hard.”

“Which is what my ‘personal healing coach’ is supposed to help with?”

Kendall laughed. “Who came up with that title?”

Daxon shook his head. “That would be Calvin. Definitely his sense of humor.”

“Calvin, your producer?” She frowned a little. “Does he think we…?” Her sentence drifted off as she gestured between the two of them.

He paused, considering his answer carefully. “I think he assumes I sleep with a lot of women.” Kendall’s frown grew deeper. “Shitty, I know. Still, assuming we slept together is not enough for him to arrange this.”

Her expression softened. “Then why did he specifically request me?”

Daxon shrugged. “Probably because I actually followed what you said I should do back in Costa Rica.”

“And you don’t follow orders?”

He heard the hint of sarcasm in her voice, but he ignored it. “I’m not being a dick about this, just honest. I need someone who takes lots of things into consideration, including working within my business obligations.” He paused. “I’ve been told I’m frustrating to work with.”

“I see.”

“You’re a great physical therapist, Kendall,” he said softly. “And I’m not just saying that to get into your pants. Though I wouldn’t say no if that’s an option.”

“Thanks, Daxon,” she said, then, with a smirk, added, “for the professional compliment, of course.”

The compliment was the unfiltered truth. In Costa Rica, Kendall went beyond the physical aspects of healing and actually listened when he said he couldn’t make a particular accommodation.

She was also hot, of course, but there were plenty of hot women in the world and only one Moonlight Buttress to free solo. Not that he was celibate these days, but it had been a while…which probably wasn’t a good thing since Kendall was about to put her hands on him again.

This would likely turn into the world’s most torturous PT session. Daxon tried to clear his mind of the lusty haze that was still lingering. He—or Calvin, actually—had pushed her into this setup. If he wanted to propose after-hours fun, Dax needed to figure out how to give her a real choice, the freedom to opt in or opt out. Hopefully it wouldn’t be the latter, but this would only work if she was all in.

“Look, I’ve made it clear that I find you incredibly attractive, and maybe you’re feeling this vibe, too.” He lifted one eyebrow, and he got a wry smile from her in return. “But I respect that you probably don’t want to fool around on the clock.”

She gave a little nod, which hopefully meant he was on the right track. Now for the solution.

“I have an idea for you to think about,” he continued, keeping his gaze steady on her eyes, not letting it wander down to her mouth, no matter how tempting it was. “I’m not looking for an answer right now, just something to consider. You check out my leg and do your job, and I won’t come on to you.” She gave a little snort, but he pushed on. “When you’re finished, you walk out my cabin door. Then you have a choice—you can keep walking, or you can turn around and come back in for that happy ending I’m dying to give you. Off duty.”

She lifted her gaze to his, and her eyes were filled with heat. She licked her lips, and his eyes went straight there, fixating on her tongue. A bolt of heavy lust ran through him. Fuck, he had to keep this decent. He forced his gaze back up, and a smile quirked at the corners of her mouth.

“Just think about it,” he whispered.

The body was a truly miraculous instrument, intricate connections of nerves and muscles and ligaments and bones. They all worked together to do the simple movements humans took for granted…until the system broke down. Then the different parts came into painful relief.

Kendall had seen the toll this breakdown could take on someone, how it could crush a person. Her father had come so close to that breaking point during one awful fire season, when the worst came so close to happening. Being a hotshot firefighter came with a ticking clock, and both her parents knew that when they started. In the intimate game with nature’s forces, nature always won. The night the tree limb fell and crushed her father’s arm, ending his hotshot career, was a reminder neither she nor her mother would ever forget. Her dad got out alive, thanks to his team, and after a long, painful recovery period—thanks to both his physical therapist and Kendall’s mother—he had moved on. Still, all these years later, her father missed it, some days wistfully, other days fiercely. Kendall tried not to get hung up on the question she had asked too many times: Why the hell did he still want to run toward danger instead of away from it?

All this had unfolded when she was in her tweens, and she had decided to become a physical therapist.

Her family history had probably made her a better one, or at the very least, a more dedicated one. Each client was a new path into the intricate art of movement. Each client meant learning the ways that a person could heal.

Her fingers brushed the dusting of hair on Daxon’s thighs. His body was truly a wonder. She moved her hands up and down his leg, over all that golden skin, those well-defined muscles. She was trying hard not to get distracted by his off-duty idea, but every time her fingers moved up to his thighs, he sucked in a breath, reminding her of where this could go. Later.

Concentrate.

She had seen her fair share of men in amazing shape as a traveling physical therapist, athletes with bodies fine-tuned for sports. This was different. The switch had flipped that night in Costa Rica, and she couldn’t figure out how to flip it back. She was no longer studying Daxon’s body the way she would study a work of art. She was thinking about what it could do. What his muscular thighs would feel like pressed against hers. How it would feel to run her hands over those biceps as he lowered himself over her with each heavy thrust.

She glanced up at Daxon. His eyes were fixed on her, hot and intense. Holy hell. His hands gripped the sides of the massage table, his knuckles white. Still, he said nothing. Kendall smiled. She had to admit the man had impressive focusing skills. Much better than hers, clearly. Still, it was amusing to see him all worked up like this.

She quirked her eyebrow at him. “Not your best day for relaxing?”

He gave her a wry smile. “It’s not a strength of mine, even on a good day.”

“I think if you spend this week with a little stretching, massage and low-strain exercise for your legs, you’ll be fine,” she said, rocking back onto her heels, putting a little distance between them. “The real challenge is to go easy on your calf during the rest of the day. Try to stay off your feet as much as possible.”

“I’ll think of something.”

She narrowed her eyes, and he put up his hands in surrender, laughing. “I wasn’t coming on to you. Just a guy and his ‘personal healing coach’—” He put air quotes around those last words “—having a conversation.”

“Can we stop with the job title? It sounds like I’m part of some sort of cult fitness retreat.”

He chuckled. “I already told you you’re an amazing physical therapist,” he said. “But the truth is I don’t want you as a coach. And in the interest of keeping my word, I’ll stop before I tell you what I want instead.”

She bit her lip as Daxon’s proposition came back. Off-hours fun. Low risk and high reward, if their kiss back in Costa Rica was any indication.

Kendall ended the session and packed her bags, taking her time, enjoying the heat of Daxon’s intense gaze on her. She scrolled through the tablet, reviewing and adding to his schedule for the next day. She ticked off sailing, snorkeling, and a few more of the Kalani’s features that were well suited for a guy with an itch for adventure and a body that wasn’t currently cooperating. After all, he wasn’t the resort’s first guest in this situation.

“Here’s a map of the Kalani, and I’ll take you on a tour tomorrow afternoon,” she said, handing it to him. “You can also use this tablet to book appointments or activities, order food—anything you need.”

He scrolled through his options. “Can I book as many sessions with you as I want?”

“Don’t push it.” She tried to hold back her smile, but Daxon seemed to catch it anyway.

His mouth quirked up. “Thank you for doing this.”

“My pleasure,” she said, giving him the same playful wink he’d given her earlier. Before he could respond, she turned and walked toward the door.

Daxon followed. He didn’t say anything, but she got his message just fine. Remember how hot it was between us? I’d love to take it further this time. Or maybe that was her own voice.

She paused at the door, then turned around. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I hope so.” His gaze dipped to her lips, then back to her eyes. He opened his mouth, as if to say something more, then closed it with a little frown. Lord, she wanted to kiss that mouth, so she turned around, opened the door and walked out, shutting it with a click.

Then she came to a full stop on the wooden porch. Whoa.

Kendall took a deep breath. In front of her, Mauna Kea, the enormous volcano, rose up in the middle of the island. She was surrounded by miles of untouched hills and beaches, and the only other people anywhere near the place were high-profile guests, equally interested in privacy. A perfect place for escape and fun. Behind her, just on the other side of the door, was the hot, ultra-fit, six-foot-something man who had fueled her sexiest fantasies for the last six months—and that was only after a kiss. The man just had to breathe next to her and she was turned on. Escape and fun? Definitely.

Back in Costa Rica, Daxon had been hard enough to resist. Her employer at the time hadn’t forbidden any intimate relations with clients…and she’d heard stories. But until that assignment, Kendall had never once been tempted to cross the line. Daxon didn’t make on-the-job advances, but for one aching week, she found herself wondering what it would be like if he had.

Today she was getting a chance to reconsider that night in Costa Rica when she had walked away. She had taken this job as Daxon’s physical therapist knowing full well that spending time with him would be intense. All she had to do was walk back in the door.

Kendall took a deep breath. Another breath. Another. Not helping. The anticipation of kissing Daxon again, all that intense energy focused—

The door creaked open behind her. She spun around and stood face-to-face with Daxon.

He blinked at her, lust written all over his face. Then he rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a sheepish smile. “Just checking the weather.”

“Liar.”

“I was checking the weather.” He glanced up at the cloudless sky. Then he stretched out his hand, palm up. “No rain. I also might have been checking to see if you had left. In addition.”

“Just thinking through my options.” Kendall crossed her arms, going for her best casual pose.

“Sure,” he said lightly. “Let me know if you want any help thinking through those options. Or trying some of them out.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you offering to drop your towel again?”

“I’m never going to live that one down, am I?”

“Probably not.”

“You know where to find me.” He started to close the door.

It was time. Kendall put her hand on the door. “Wait.”

The door swung open again, and he was grinning. She stood, facing him, staring into those glittering green eyes. God, those eyes. They were filled with the same kinds of more that she had spent a week resisting last time: more games, more sexy, more fun. And right now, that was exactly the kind of more she needed.

“Made up your mind?” he asked, his voice soft, low.

She nodded.

“You’re coming in?”

She nodded again. “Otherwise, I’ll spend another six months wondering what I missed.”

CHAPTER THREE

DAXON STEPPED ASIDE, leaving just enough room for her to pass through. Kendall’s eyes narrowed, like she saw exactly what he was doing. She stopped in front of him, her body brushing up against his.

“I can play this game, too, you know,” she whispered.

Then her hand was on his chest, and she looked up at him with wide brown eyes. He tried to read her expression, but he was sidetracked by her lips, so plush and inviting. His body was on high alert, memories mingling with the immediate sensation of her fingers on him. Her mouth was so close, and he was aching to kiss her. Just a little more patience. Last time this ended with him watching her walk away. This time felt…right. But he wanted her to lead.

So he waited as long as he could, which wasn’t long. It was too tempting not to brush his fingers over her skin. Spending the last hour resisting her wasn’t doing him any favors now. Daxon slipped his hand around her waist, bringing their bodies together, and walked them into the cabin, one slow step at a time. He kicked the door closed and rested his hand on it, leaning over her, breathing in the scent of her hair.

“Will you let your hair down?”

She blinked, a little surprised, it seemed, then nodded and slipped the fastener out. Shiny, sun-streaked chestnut-brown waves cascaded over her shoulders. Daxon groaned as his cock gave an urgent throb. She rested her hands around his neck, coaxing him closer.

He found the shell of her earlobe with his lips. “I got it wrong back in Costa Rica. Tell me how to get it right this time.”

Kendall arched against him, their bodies flush. “You didn’t get it wrong. I just wasn’t ready.”

“Are you ready now?” Thinking was getting more and more difficult.

“Mmm.”

Oh, that sound out of her mouth… Focus. “Is that a yes?”

She tilted her head up and smiled at him. “That’s a hell yes.”

Then finally, finally he was pressing his mouth against hers, and she sighed, like she had been waiting for this just as much as he had. She kissed him, her lips brushing against his in achingly slow caresses. Months of pent-up desire flooded through him as he met each stroke, each invitation. He threaded his fingers through all that soft, beautiful hair, grabbing on, pulling her closer. He took a gulp of air and then dived in for more. He had forgotten just how good she tasted, like endless sunshine and warmth. Each hungry stroke of her tongue fueled another jolt of pleasure to his system.

His muscles tensed as her hands traveled down, farther, until she found the hem of his T-shirt and slipped her hands underneath. Goddamn, this was better than he had remembered. Everything else faded, and what was left was Kendall. He pressed up against her, her body trapped between his and the door, his cock hard and straining inside his boxers. Her teeth raked over his bottom lip, and she hooked her leg around him, starting a slow, sensual grind that made his eyes roll back. He could come like this, fully clothed and panting in this little hallway, just from finally kissing Kendall, feeling her body against his again.

Aaaaand…no. That wasn’t where this was going.

Daxon slowed the kiss, reining himself in, loosening his grip on her hair. She pulled her hands from under his shirt and settled them on his hips. He rested his forehead against hers.

“Fuck, sweets. This is really hot, and you haven’t even taken off your clothes.”

“Yet,” she added, smiling. “You haven’t, either.”

“You haven’t seen enough of me today?”

One of her hands moved lower, down between his legs, and she stroked his rock-hard cock. Pleasure rippled through him.

“I’ve changed my mind,” she whispered. “I’d like a closer view.”

The image from Costa Rica of Kendall kneeling between his legs came back, his own fantasies layered on, and he groaned. He had to stop thinking about that for now. If this was his only chance to touch her, to enjoy her, to taste her, he wanted to get it right.

“We’ll see about that,” he said with a wink. “Right now, I want to get you on that table.”

Now Kendall remembered exactly why she had walked out of Daxon’s room in Costa Rica. She had played back that kiss so many times in her mind, but somehow she had forgotten important details. The way his breath hitched when she touched his bare skin. The hunger in each brush of his lips. The way she lost herself as the tidal wave of want took over, building, threatening to crash through her body. She wanted more of this man, his hard muscles, the weight of him against her, his thick cock that was pressing against her, his mouth everywhere. She wanted more.

It had been almost impossible to walk away last time, but when she came up for air, she’d known she had to. Because drowning in a kiss with Daxon Miles had suddenly felt like a different kind of risk, one that had nothing to do with her job. One she knew was dangerous.

And yet here she was again, aching for more. During their sessions, her hands had traveled up and down his legs many times. She wanted to explore further. She wanted to learn his body, how it worked, how his muscles flexed when she touched him, what he sounded like when he came. This was a man with a preternatural ability to focus. What would it be like to feel him let go of all that control and lose himself in pleasure?

She just had to make sure this stayed uncomplicated. People had uncomplicated sex all the time, so why shouldn’t this new, more adventurous version of her do it, too?

Kendall laced her fingers with his. “Let’s try the bedroom instead. I think it’ll be a little more comfortable.”

“Maybe we can try the table later,” he said. “But I’m happy to start anywhere, sweets, as long as I get to put my mouth on you.”

Damn, he sounded so sincere, like he was aching to go down on her. No wonder women tripped over one another for this man.

“Right this way, champ.” She led the way to the bedroom, her heart jumping in her chest. After months of watching his videos, just to make sure his previous injury had healed, of course—okay, and possibly using him as fodder for a late-night date with her vibrator because she never planned to see him again—after six months of not real, this was about to get very real.

A warm breeze blew through the open windows of the light, airy room. The bed was enormous, covered with a fluffy duvet and a stack of pillows. A tray of hibiscus flowers lay on the long, narrow bench in front of the windows. He turned to her, tucking her hair behind her ear. The echoes of waves and the brush of palm leaves mixed with the sounds of turned-on male, so close. His hand lingered on her neck.

“I want to undress you.”

“Sounds a little impractical.”

He laughed. “Sounds sexy to me. As long as you don’t mind me staring at you like a hungry dog.”

Well, if he wanted to. She might as well get the whole Daxon Miles experience, from start to finish.

“Oooh, hungry dog,” she said. “Very sexy.”

He tickled her sides, and she yelped and wriggled. His laugh grew huskier.

“You like to tease me?” he said, his hands gentling, urging her to face him. “Just so you know, it only makes me harder for you.”

When she turned around, his smile was so full of heat, and it sent a shiver of desire through her. Her eyes met his, and his smile faded. What would this incredible man feel like inside her, thrusting, working her hard? God, she wanted to know.

Slowly he slipped his hands under her shirt and lifted it up, his palms skimming her sides. She raised her arms, and he pulled the shirt over her head, tossing it on the floor. His warm hands rested on her arms, and he ran them up and down a few times, as if he were learning her in the same way that she was learning him back on the table. He traced the outline of her bra, around the curve of her breasts.

She’d always had mixed feelings about her chest size. Her body was a comfortable one to live in, fit, strong, and as a physical therapist, she was reminded daily not to take any of these pieces for granted. But she had been an early bloomer, and having large breasts at an younger age had made her self-conscious long after she should have outgrown it. She still had to fight her instinct to cover them. But with Daxon’s eyes hot, his mouth parted as he gazed at her breasts, she didn’t want to hide. Not when he was looking at her like she was the only thing on earth he wanted right now.

He traced the straps up to her shoulders, then moved down, exploring her nipples through the silky material. Pulses of heat spread through her, and she drew in a quiet gasp. He slipped his hands around her and unhooked her bra, eased the straps over her shoulders and tossed it on top of her shirt. He ran his fingers down her chest, and she covered his hands with hers. There was so much pleasure in this slow exploration. His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned forward to kiss her neck, holding her breasts in his palms, kneading, learning them. Then, with a soft bite on her neck, he let go and knelt down in front of her.

“I love getting you naked,” he said, reaching between his legs to adjust himself. His voice was getting lower, rougher. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

She spent so much time concentrating on other people’s bodies and movements that it was strange to have the roles reversed. But definitely not a bad kind of strange.

He urged her to turn around, so she did, but she could still feel his gaze on her, hot and heavy. His hands moved from her hips, lower. He cupped her rear.

“You have one fine behind, Kendall.” The rumble of his voice was making her giddy.

She peered over her shoulder, down at him. “You do, too, you know.”

He looked up at her and cracked a cocky smile. “I’m glad you noticed.”

“At the risk of inflating your ego, I admit that I’ve peeked at your ass more than once,” she said, laughing.

“I’ve watched yours, too. Many times.” Amusement threaded through the desire in his voice.

Would she ever tell him that she had stood at her dresser that very morning, choosing her outfit and, in the end, selected her shortest pair of jersey shorts, the ones that hugged her ass and showed off her legs, just for this meeting? Maybe. He slipped his fingers under the waistband of her shorts and pulled them down, revealing the scrap of her thong and a lot of her ass.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Just touching you like this makes me want to come.”

His hands returned to her ass and his teeth grazed one side as he tugged down her panties. He paused, and she waited, not breathing. Then he got to his feet again. He brushed her hair over her shoulder and pressed his body up against hers, and he nibbled the shell of her ear. “On the bed, sweets.”

She climbed up, and he followed her, tugging off his shirt as he settled between her legs. Then he made his way up her body, holding himself over her, his muscles flexing. She pressed her hands against his biceps, feeling the way they moved. When he leaned down to kiss, it was sweet, almost tender. Then he moved to her neck, her chest and, oh, her breasts. His lips closed around one nipple, and he swirled his tongue and dragged his teeth until she squirmed and ground against him. Watching him suck her breast added another erotic layer, and her mouth hung open in anticipation as he moved to the other. New jolts of pleasure shot through her. How close would she get to an orgasm, just like this?

But he moved lower before she found out, his lips on her belly. Her hips. The inside of her legs. She moaned as he came closer, his tongue hungry against her skin. Finally, he pressed his mouth against her clit. The spark was electric, sending shuddering waves of pleasure through her body, bringing her so close to the edge. He was kissing her everywhere, drinking her with endless thirst, his tongue exploring, repeating the strokes she responded to. Learning. When she moaned, he groaned, too, and came in for more.

Oh, more. Daxon’s mouth was its own category of more. He slipped two fingers inside her and thrust, in and out, driving her mad as he worshipped her with his mouth. It happened so fast. Kendall arched her back and came, crying out, shuddering as Daxon took his last hungry licks of her, drawing out her pleasure.

She sucked in gulps of air as she came back down. The quiet sound of the ocean blew through the windows. Daxon crawled up her body and lay by her side. He propped his head on one hand, his other hand resting on her stomach.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that for so long,” he whispered.

Kendall was trying to get her thoughts together, though her entire body protested. But when his cock pressed against her thigh, her mind skidded back to her earlier question: What would he feel like inside her? She took a couple more breaths and turned to Daxon. “Want to try something else?”

His eyes darkened with desire, but he shook his head. “Some other day, if you want. But I meant what I said earlier. Today is all about your happy ending.”

She closed her eyes and let the mix of languid pleasure and the heat from Daxon’s body lull her into a rare moment of peace. Was this his plan to get her to come back another time? If so, it was working.

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