"That's amazing," I finally said. "Do you run the place or just own it?"
"Everyone and everything in the building is my responsibility." She shut her eyes for a moment, then sighed and looked at me. "When I was twenty-two, fresh out of college, my parents bought the building and gave it to me as a graduation present. They said I needed to grow up and take responsibility for something, so I could prove to them I'm a mature adult."
"How did that go?"
"The building was empty, had been for a few months. My first job was to get the place in shape for tenants---the high-end kind, not the riffraff---and then attract those tenants."
"Sounds like a big project." I watched her face, though she'd turned it away from me to gaze toward the window above the sink. "You seem really smart, so I'm guessing you pulled it off."
Her gaze swerved to me, her eyes wide. "You assume I did a good job? That's not how anybody else felt. My parents were sure I'd screw up. They didn't say it outright, but I figured they must feel that way. I screw up all the time."
"Did you mess up with your building?"
She hugged herself, scratching her arms. "It wasn't easy. I hired contractors and decorators to fix up the place, always mindful of the fact I had to pay back the loans my parents had helped me get. Once the building was ready for occupancy, I came up with a marketing campaign to attract tenants. The complex was at full occupancy within two weeks after it opened."
"Your folks must've been proud."
She laughed, though it didn't sound cheerful. "My mom said she was glad I hadn't gone bankrupt yet, but that it would take several years to know whether I'd made the business successful. It's been years, and still she acts like it's a work-in-progress. Like I'm a work-in-progress."
"They never say they're proud of you, do they?"
"My dad does."
I studied her for a moment, trying to figure out why her Mom treated her like she was a mess. Mara was so sweet, not to mention funny and sexy and awesome at business stuff. I wished I had her skills at that. "I don't get it. You made your building a success, so why does your mom think you're a screw-up?"
"For all the reasons I told you earlier."
"Because you can't speak Japanese." I leaned over the gap between our stools, grasped her hands, and looked her square in the eye. "That's bullshit, Mara. I've known you for a day and a half, and already I can tell you're an incredible woman."
"It's more than not speaking Japanese." She glanced down at our hands. "I drove my husband away."
That sounded like bullshit too, especially considering what she'd told me earlier about her ex complaining she got too excited about sex. What kind of asshole was that guy? Mara was hot. More than that, she was a good person. She deserved praise, not insults from sniveling turds.
"I lied to you," she said, still staring down at our hands. "Well, maybe not outright lied. I let you believe I can't afford to buy another plane ticket to go home. The truth is, I don't want to go home because I'll get another lecture about how I screwed up yet again. Accidentally booking a vacation at a nudist resort? I'll never hear the end of it."
"Then stay." I lifted one hand away from hers to cup her cheek. "Hang out here with the crazy naturists. Chill out, enjoy the sunshine, go on nature hikes, whatever. I guarantee you nobody here will ridicule you or say you're not good enough. The guests are good people, like a big family, and they'll make you feel welcome."
And I'd never met anyone who needed a vacation more than Mara Severins.
She chewed on her lip, finally looking at me again. "I'd love to stay here. Is forever too long to book a room for?"
"I think we can arrange that."
"Thank you, Ollie." She gave me a tentative smile. "You're the nicest man I've ever met."
"Just doing my job." Now who was full of shit? I didn't say all that stuff to Mara because it was my job. I liked her, that's why I said it. "You can call me Oliver if you want. I usually don't like it when people use my whole name, but I love the way you say it. Especially when we're having sex."
Her cheeks dimpled with the cutest smile. "Okay, Oliver. I like your name, by the way. It's sexy."
My manly parts were about to get active again, so I had to make up a dumb excuse to get away from her for a few minutes. Just until I cooled down. Her smile, and her statement that my name was sexy, had way too much of an effect on me.
"Excuse me for a minute," I said, sliding off my stool. "Gotta hit the head."
The best I could hope for was that some time alone would let me figure out how to survive being around Mara, indefinitely, without walking around with a giant hard-on twenty-four seven.
Was that a pig flying past the window?
I returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, with my problem mostly under control, and found Mara standing at the sink. She was gazing out the window. I came up beside her to see what had caught her attention.
The guests were playing miniten.
Mara glanced at me, then returned her attention to the game going on outside. "What are they doing? I saw people playing that game yesterday, but I don't know what it is. Looks kind of like tennis or badminton, but they have bizarre boxes on their hands."
"It's called miniten. Naturists invented the game. Miniten is short for mini tennis." I pointed with my finger while I explained, "See, most naturist retreats don't have a lot of room for tennis courts, so they had to adjust the
