Climbing out of the shower, Mia felt refreshed. It had been a great first day minus the awkward start, but she didn’t want to erase the run-in with Kekoa or the way his simple presence had made her feel alive.

Phina had been thrilled to whip her up a quick ham sandwich with a malasada on the side. Mia might pack on a few pounds if the Hawaiian doughnut became a regular treat with every meal.

After lunch, she lounged around by the swimming pool, dipping into the crisp water and draping her arms over the edge of the infinity pool, taking in the view. She’d even snuck in a twenty-minute nap before hitting her shower.

She had ten minutes before she had to meet for her massage. Slipping on a black running skirt and a pink tank top with shelf bra, she slid her feet into her flip-flops and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Then she meandered through the Inn and down the pathway toward the gazebo.

When she reached the square wooden gazebo partially extended over the hillside with stilts, she peered between the cream drapes hanging from ceiling to floor on three sides, creating privacy from any passersby. An open side provided a broader view of the beach below. It was breathtaking. The sound of the waves lapping the shore put her in an even more relaxing mood. The massage table, swathed in cream sheets, sat in the middle of the space.

“Excuse me,” a deep, raspy, somewhat familiar voice interrupted her intake of the space she’d be calling home for the next hour.

Mia startled, whirling around and inhaling sharply. Him! Her eyes widened in astonishment and her mouth fell open.

All six feet plus inches of hot, brooding surfer stood before her looking like the mountain she wanted to climb. He tied his dark hair up in a man-bun, wisps fluttering in the gentle breeze. With his hair out of his face, his prominent cheekbones, strong jawline, and rounded chin were more visible. He’d shaven since that morning as his cheeks and jaw were smooth. She itched to touch him, her fingers twitching at her sides. His scarred eyebrow quirked, and his mouth twisted as if ready to say something, but the sight of her prevented him from doing so.

“I-I’m waiting for my massage therapist,” she squeaked out. Her belly fluttered with sensation at being this close to him again. “I-I have an appointment at three-thirty.” She had done nothing wrong. Why was she so intimidated by him?

For crying out loud, she argued before judges and negotiated the terms of a client’s contract or presented to a board of directors explaining the contract she’d drafted for the company. A menacing, yet extremely hot surfer should be easily handled.

“I should have figured.” He blew out a breath and his gaze flicked upward to the heavens.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mia quipped, raising her chin and gaining some confidence.

“I’m your massage therapist.” He belted out a boisterous laugh.

“What? No.” She shook her head in complete denial and waved her hands emphatically.

Undressing and lying on the massage table in nothing but a sheet before this man had her heart slamming against her chest. She considered his large, powerful hands that would rub oil into her skin while working out the tension in her muscles. A tingling sensation stirred between her legs and arousal rushed through her.

“There must be some mistake.” Her mouth went dry, and she shuffled a few steps backward, hitting the step of the gazebo and falling on her bottom.

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