Natural Temptation (Au Naturel Nights #3)

Prologue

Ryan

The sun gradually sinks toward the horizon, casting a fiery glow on the sky and painting it in shades of blood red with smears of purple, like big bruises on the sunset. I curl my toes deeper into the sand, feeling the tiny grains move beneath my feet. My shoulders are relaxed, my jaw too. The breathtaking scenery of Heirani Motu surrounds me, and the weight I'd felt bearing down on me a few days ago has crumbled away. Still, I can't help wondering if I'll be able to handle swimming in a sea of naked strangers.

Am I ready for this? For a new job in a strange new place? Tomorrow, I'll start my first full week on the island, and my first full day as interim general manager. But this island is nothing like the resort I'd worked at before. This is a nudist resort, after all. The clothes-free kind.

But if I wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night...I'll handle it. My best friend taught me how to get through the bad times.

My mind races through an endless list of preparations. Have I double-checked the welcome baskets? Are the trail maps updated? God, I hope the staff remembered to stock extra sunscreen. Then a seabird's cry pierces the air as my thoughts spiral back to the impending arrival of a new crop of guests—my first since I touched down on the island. Can I handle so many new people? All at once? I have no choice. They are my responsibility, and I never let my crew down.

A memory unfolds in my mind as I remember the last time I managed a guest influx this large. It was at a different kind of resort, in a different life. The complaints, the accidents, the sheer unpredictability of human beings, had nearly driven me crazy. Yet now, with so much more at stake, I feel relaxed instead of anxious. Maybe it's the scent of the ocean and rustling of the palm trees that's keeping me centered.

But what if someone gets hurt on the nature trails? Or bitten by shark? Sure, that's likely to happen. I shake my head at myself. "Get it together, Kimble. You've done this before.' "

Yeah, those other instances were at a regular resort where everyone kept their clothes, or at least their swimsuits, on at all times. But I can handle it, for sure. Even as I tell myself the words, I know it's a lie. The pressure to maintain Au Naturel's sterling reputation feels heavier than ever. One misstep, one unhappy guest, and it could all come crashing down.

Don't be an idiot. The whole chain of resorts won't explode just because I flub something.

I turn away from the fading light, my steps purposeful as I head back toward the resort. My mind cranks into high gear as I plot checklists and contingency plans. I need to review the staff schedules one more time, ensure the kitchens are fully stocked, double-check that all the equipment for tomorrow's activities is in perfect working order.

As I walk, I catch my reflection in a nearby window. For a moment, I barely recognize the man staring back at me—all soft smiles and casual certainty, as if I know exactly what I'm doing. What bullshit. I force a smile, practicing the pleasant, welcoming expression I'll need to wear tomorrow and every day after.

"Welcome to Au Naturel Naturist Resort South Seas," I say to my reflection, my voice carefully modulated to project confidence and ease. "The one place where you can truly be yourself."

The irony of those words isn't lost on me. How long has it been since I've allowed myself that luxury? I shake off the thought, squaring my shoulders. There's work to be done, and I won't let my personal hang-ups interfere with the guests' experience. They came here seeking freedom, relaxation, maybe even a bit of romance.

It's my job to ensure they find it—even if I can't seem to find any of that for myself.

Suddenly, the breeze wafts a familiar odor toward me. It smells like blood, mixed with the salty sea air. My heart rate spikes as I scan the beach, searching for the source. Could someone be hurt? My mind races through worst-case scenarios—a guest injured on the rocks, a shark attack, or worse. But it's only a mirage, of course. Yet I'm transported back to another night that I've tried to forget, another place, another lifetime on a different continent.

Then it's over as quickly as the memory had begun.

I blink rapidly, my heart racing. The phantom pain in my chest feels all too real, and I can almost taste the coppery tang of blood on my lips. I shake my head in an attempt to clear the memory, muttering to myself. "Not now, Kimble. Focus on this moment, this time."

The rhythmic crash of waves pulls me back to the present. I turn toward the shoreline, watching as the moonlight glimmering on the water surges and recedes in an endless tango. It's mesmerizing, peaceful. I let out a long breath, trying to match the steadiness of the waves with the ocean's rhythm. My heart rate slows, and the memories gradually drift away from me.

"Amazing, isn't it?" I say aloud as I gaze at the ocean, though there's no one else to hear me. "Paradise on earth."

Here I am, surrounded by breathtaking beauty, and all I can think about is spreadsheets and guest complaints. The duality of it all—the serenity of Heirani Motu versus the chaos in my head—it's almost laughable. I close my eyes, letting the sound of the waves wash over me once again. For just a moment, I allow myself to be present, to feel the sand beneath my feet and the caress of the breeze on my skin.

I open my eyes to watch the last sliver of sun disappear beneath the horizon. The colors turn from pink to purple and finally to darkness. My life has been filled with too much darkness, but I've worked hard to live in the light. Can I ever truly do that? Some scars remain embedded in my psyche forever.

With one last look at the darkening sky, I turn back toward the resort. There's still work to be done, even after sunset, and I won't let the ghosts of my past interfere with the promise of tomorrow.

The shrill ring of my phone cuts through the air like a seagull's cry, yanking me back to reality. I fish it out of my pocket, cursing softly when I see the name on the screen: James Bythesea. I take a deep breath, schooling my voice into a mask of calm professionalism.

"James," I answer, my voice steady despite the sudden uptick in my heart rate. "What can I do for you, boss?"

"How is your first week going, Ryan?" James's crisp British accent crackles through the line. "I trust I'm not interrupting anything important?"

A wry smile tugs at my lips. "Not at all. Just finishing up some last-minute preparations for tomorrow's new arrivals."

"Ah, excellent. That's precisely why I'm calling." There's a pause, and I can almost picture James straightening his crisp white dress shirt, even over the phone. "How are we looking for the upcoming season?"

I start walking back toward the resort, sand shifting beneath my feet until I step onto the manicured trail. "We're on track, boss. Bookings are up fifteen percent from last year, and early feedback on our newest adventure options has been positive."

"That's...good." But there's hesitation in his voice that makes my shoulders tense up. "However, I can't help but feel we could be doing better. Eve and Val are expecting significant growth this quarter."

I hold back a sigh. Of course they're expecting growth. Eve and Val Silva, the owners of the Au Naturel chain of resorts, are great people. But they're also dead serious about business. "I understand, James. We've implemented several new strategies to enhance guest experience and boost word-of-mouth marketing. I'm confident we'll see results."

"I certainly hope so, Ryan. The Au Naturel brand is known for excellence, and we can't afford to let standards slip. Not even on a remote island paradise."

His words sting more than they should. I've poured my heart and soul into this resort, using it as a lifeline to pull myself out of the darkness that threatened to consume me after...No, I won't think about that. I know James, as well as Eve and Val, don't think of their resorts as just another line item on a spreadsheet. It's their calling.

"Don't worry, boss," I say, infusing my voice with a confidence I don't entirely feel, "I assure you every guest who sets foot on Heirani Motu will experience nothing short of perfection. You have my word."

"See that they do, Ryan. The future of the resort depends on it." With that ominous parting shot, James ends the call.

I lower the phone, staring at the dark screen. The weight of expectation settles over me like a heavy cloak, and for a moment, I allow myself to feel the full force of it. Then, with a deep breath, I straighten my shoulders and continue my walk back to the office. Every day is another chance to prove myself. And I won't let anyone down—not James, not the guests, and most importantly, not myself.

As I exhale slowly, I allow the frustration to sift away with every breath. Stabbing a hand through my hair, I mutter to myself once again. "Get it together, Kimble. James won't fire you."

I really need to stop talking to myself out loud.

With a final glance at the darkening horizon, I turn and start the trek back to my office. My feet sink into the cooling sand with every deliberate step, mirroring the weight I feel settling in my chest. The conversation with James replays in my mind, his words a constant reminder of the pressure I'm under.

As I reach the path leading away from the beach, I quicken my pace. My movements are purposeful, every stride reflecting the discipline I've honed over years of managing crises—both personal and professional. The lush foliage whispers around me, but I barely notice its beauty, my mind already racing through tomorrow's to-do list.

"Welcome speech, staff briefing, final room checks," I recite under my breath, organizing my thoughts as I navigate the familiar trail.

The resort's main building comes into view, its warm lights a beacon in the moonlit night. I pause for a moment, taking in the sight of the star-studded sky and the island that has become my home for the past few weeks. This is more than just a job. It's my redemption, my chance to prove that I can still make something meaningful, even after everything that's happened.

I square my shoulders before stepping inside the lobby. The cool air-conditioning hits me as I enter, a stark contrast to the balmy evening outside. I nod at the night staff, who offer cheerful greetings as I urge myself to respond in kind.

On the way back to my office, I can't help wondering what challenges tomorrow's guests will bring. But I push the thought aside. After all, I've faced worse things—much worse. And this time, I'm determined to make this island my new home, permanently.

Once inside my office, I sink into my chair with a sigh. The computer screen flickers to life, its glow casting shadows across my desk. I pull up tomorrow's guest list, each name a potential landmine in the delicate balance of running Au Naturel. I scroll through the document, uncertain of why I'm bothering to do that. The task relaxes me, and that's all that matters.

My gaze dances over the names and any special requests they might have asked for. The Johnsons wanted extra towels. Mr. Patel requested a vegan menu. The Coopers are celebrating twenty years of marriage, so they requested the anniversary package.

I pause, my finger hovering over the trackpad, and try to memorize the first names of all the new guests. That's no easy task. But my previous career taught me to notice everything. Before I know it, I've cataloged all the first names.

With a satisfied sigh, I lean back and clasp my hands behind my head.

I close the guest list and pull out a fresh sheet of paper, clicking my pen over and over. Time to craft the perfect welcome speech. My fingers tap a staccato rhythm on the keyboard as I begin to write.

"Welcome to Au Naturel Naturist Resort South Seas," I say, testing the words. "Where paradise meets...No, too cliché." I cross it out, frowning. The speech needs to be warm, inviting, professional. Just like me, huh? A wry smile tugs at my lips. If only everyone knew how much effort goes into maintaining this facade.

I try again. "Welcome to Au Naturel Naturist Resort South Seas. We're delighted to have you join us on Heirani Motu, where..."

The words flow easier now, my pen racing across the page. I describe the island's lush beauty, the crystal-clear waters, the hidden waterfalls waiting to be discovered. Every sentence is carefully constructed, designed to paint a picture of serenity, sensuality, and adventure. The interim general manager won't be getting any of that.

While I work, I feel the tension in my shoulders begin to ease. This is what I'm good at—setting the stage for others to find their bliss even if I can't seem to find my own, creating an experience they'll remember long after they go home.

I pause, tapping the pen on my chin until inspiration strikes again.

"Remember," I say softly, practicing the words, "at Au Naturel, we celebrate the beauty of the human form in all its diversity. Here, you're free to be your authentic self."

The irony of those words isn't lost on me. I glance up, catching sight of my reflection on the polished desktop. The fading light casts shadows across my face, emphasizing the lines of worry etched around my eyes. I twist my lips into a frown as I mutter, "Authentic self, my ass. When's the last time you let anyone see that, hey, Kimble?"

The reflection offers no answer, just a weary look that speaks volumes. I see the weight of expectations in the set of my shoulders, the guard I've built in the tightness around my mouth.

This is who you are now. The capable resort manager. The professional.

But even as I speak the words, a part of me rebels. Is this really all I am? A collection of polite phrases and efficient gestures, hiding behind a mask of competence? I spin my chair around, unwilling to look at my own reflection anymore, unable to face the questions in my own eyes. The speech lies finished on the desk, a testament to the persona I've crafted. It's good. It's exactly what the guests need to hear.

So why does it feel like I'm lying?

I take another deep breath, squaring my shoulders. The dimly lit office feels like a cocoon, shielding me from the world outside. But I can't hide here forever.

Shake off the memories, Kimble. Look to the future.

My perusal of the guest list proved there will be loads of hot women on the island for the next two weeks. Why I thought about that I can't explain. It's not like I can have a fling with a sexy guest. Can't even remember the last time I had sex.

And you won't be having any on this island either, Kimble. Keep it professional, remember?

I step out the door, leaving the sanctuary of my office behind. Tomorrow will bring its own challenges, but I'll face them the way I always do—one carefully measured step at a time. The door clicks shut behind me, and I head for my private bungalow. Just another night in paradise, with the weight of the world on my shoulders and a heart I don't dare to unchain.