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“ G ood book?”

Maggie squealed and dropped the book she’d been reading before gaping up at Jack.

He was blocking out the sun, looming over her. How had she missed him approaching? Surely, he had to have made some noise.

“Um, it’s okay.”

It was just after midday. Uncle Willy had woken up feeling tired and had decided to stay home rather than scouting locations today. And when she’d explained why she was limping, he’d told her to take the day and rest up.

So she’d come up onto the roof terrace to read her book and get some peace.

Or that had been the plan.

She hadn’t seen Ian yet today. But when she’d gotten out of bed, there had been a tray of food outside her door.

“A medical romance?” Jack asked, looking down at the book.

“Yes,” she squeaked, aware that her face was red. She just hoped he thought she was sunburned or something.

Even though she was sitting under a giant umbrella since her skin burned to a crisp like a vampire’s when she was in direct sunlight. Which was also why she had on a long-sleeved cover-up.

“Interesting.” He grinned at her and she had to stifle a groan.

Great, he thought she’d chosen a medical romance because she’d been slightly star struck by Jameson yesterday.

And? Isn’t that the reason?

Maybe. But she didn’t want anyone else knowing that.

“Could I have that back, please?”

“Sure. Did you sleep all right? Foot not too sore?”

She frowned. “Not too bad. I had some weird dreams.” She’d dreamed that someone was in her room, watching over her as she slept.

Which was bonkers because she’d locked her door last night. And when she’d woken up, it had still been locked.

So there was no way that anyone had been in her room. Not to mention that they’d have to get into the house in the first place.

Losing. Her. Mind.

“You?”

“Oh yeah. Like a baby. I always do.” He stepped back and she felt a stab of loneliness. Was he leaving?

But to her surprise, rather than walking away, he just grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt and drew it up and over his head.

Holy ab-balls.

Were those real? Were they possible? She’d never seen someone that was so ripped in real life. Seriously, she thought all the images she’d seen of someone with that many lines and muscles must have all been faked.

That it wasn’t possible to be that cut.

But here was the proof. Was she drooling? She wiped discreetly at her chin as he grinned at her, then turned and dove into the pool. Whoa. How did he do that without making a splash? When she dove into the water, it was like a whale playing a game of volleyball.

Not pretty.

He started swimming smoothly through the water. And she just sat there, staring like a complete perv.

“Are you wearing sunscreen?”

She was snapped out of watching Jack to see Ian storming toward her.

“Does it take a lot of energy to be that grumpy all the time?” she asked.

“What? I’m not grumpy all the time.”

“You are literally frowning at me right now.”

“No, I’m not.” He ran his finger over his forehead. “Am I?”

“It’s sad how out of touch you are with your feelings. Would you like to sit down and tell me all about it?”

“Well, you see . . .” He sat on the sun lounger next to her. Then he jumped to his feet as he realized what he’d done. “Wait a minute! No, I wouldn’t. There is nothing for me to talk about. Do you have sunscreen on?”

“Yes.”

“How did you get up here? You’re not supposed to be walking on your foot.”

“Jack brought me,” she lied.

“Are you lying to me?” he asked suspiciously.

“No.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “So if I were to ask Jack whether he carried you up here, he’d say yes?”

“Totally.”

Whoa. She’d never been such a liar before.

It seemed like it was something that Ian brought out of her. That couldn’t be a good thing. Perhaps she should stay away from him.

Or maybe douse him in salt. Would that work?

“Maggie? Maggie, are you listening to me?”

“How much salt do we have in the house?”

Ian sighed. She felt a pang of regret. She didn’t mean to be such a trial to him. It was just . . . sparring with him made her feel alive. It made her forget her worries.

She didn’t feel like pulling all her hair until she became bald.

“Sorry. I’m listening. Promise. What were you saying?”

He blinked at her. “What’s wrong?” He tensed, glancing around. “What is it? Is there a threat?”

“No. What? Why?”

“You just apologized. And you were serious. And you were listening to me. Must be the apocalypse.”

She grinned up at him. “Aww, did you just make a joke?”

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. I think I’m possessed.”

She nodded solemnly. “That’s why we need salt. I’ll start stockpiling.”

He eyed her. “Am I going to wake up one morning and find you pouring salt over me?”

“It is a distinct possibility.”

He cracked a smile.

Ian.

Cracked a smile.

She felt like she’d won the lottery. Maggie wriggled with pleasure.

“What’s wrong? Are you all right?” He crouched and placed his hand over her forehead. Which meant his hand basically covered her entire face. Why did he have to be so huge?

“Are you having a seizure? Do you need to pee? Or have you got diarrhea?”

“I don’t have diarrhea!” She shoved his hand away from her face. “Jeez. I was just happy. That’s my happy dance.”

“That was a dance?”

“Yes! I’ll have you know I’m an awesome dancer!”

You couldn’t be a champion ice-skater without knowing how to dance.

He was just being rude.

“If you’re sure. I can run you to the toilet.”

She smacked her hand against his bicep. Ouch! Blast!

Pulling her hand back, she cradled it against her chest. “What are you made of? Concrete? Steel? That hurt!”

“While I appreciate you saying I have muscles of steel, I don’t like that you just hurt yourself. Do not do that again.”

Do not do that again.

Annndd he was back.

“Show me your hand.”

“Nope.”

“Little girl, give me your hand. I need to make sure you didn’t truly hurt yourself.”

“Who is hurt?”

She stared over at the god walking toward her. Actually, he glided. There was no way that you could call that walking. Was her mouth watering? Was she drooling again?

“Jameson,” she whispered.

He shot her a grin. Her ovaries just exploded. Yep. There was no other explanation. She sighed dreamily.

“You know, he’s not that good-looking,” Ian muttered. “Some women actually think I’m good-looking.”

“I’m sure they do,” she said, trying to appease the poor guy. It was obvious that he was desperate for her approval.

He was definitely obsessed with her.

“What’s going on? What hurts?” Jameson asked, stopping beside them. He was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a white shirt. He looked more rested today.

It should be illegal for him to look this good.

“Nothing hurts,” she said.

Except her heart. And her eyes. From looking at him.

Yes, she knew she was bonkers. But she’d decided to embrace it. Sometimes, it was the only thing keeping her sane.

And yes . . . she was also aware that statement was contradictory.

“Her hand hurts,” Ian stated. “You need to check it. And her foot.”

Oh. Was that why he was here? As a doctor? She ignored the stab of disappointment. It was silly to think that he was here because he’d been overcome by her beauty and needed to spend time with her.

Still. A girl could dream.

Jameson shot Ian a strange look. Then he sat on the sun lounger in front of her. “Can I take a look at your foot, sweetheart?”

“S-sure.” He’d been a bit strange when he’d left last night. Kind of short and almost irritated by something.

Obviously, not by her.

But it must have just been the fatigue, so she forgave him. He checked her foot.

“Looks like it’s healing well. You must be following my instructions well. Good girl.”

Holy heck.

Her clit started throbbing. His fingers had been touching her as he called her a ‘good girl.’ She hadn’t even known that she had a praise kink.

Then again . . . who didn’t have a praise kink when the most gorgeous man ever spoke? She’d want to listen to him say anything.

“Now, show me your hand.”

“It’s fine.” But she shoved it out at him because it meant he was going to keep touching her.

A shiver ran through her.

“Are you cold?” Ian asked. “You just shivered. Jameson, maybe she’s running a fever. Did you bring a thermometer with you?”

“There is one in my bag. But I don’t think she has a fever.”

“I think we need to check.” Ian grabbed the bag Jameson had brought with him and started searching through it, pulling things out.

“Hey!” Jameson protested. “Don’t go messing up my stuff.”

“Is this the only one you’ve got?” Ian held up a thermometer that took an oral thermometer.

“Yes,” Jameson replied.

“Aren’t anal thermometers more accurate?” Ian asked.

She gasped and moved her free hand under her bottom. “No one is sticking anything in my bottom.”

“Disappointing,” Jack said as he approached.

How had she not noticed Jack getting out of the pool? He was rubbing a towel over his short hair. He needed to use that towel to mop up the drips of water going down his body.

Of course . . . she could offer to help him with that . . . by licking them all up.

How had she gone from a huge dry spell to having three gorgeous men surrounding her as she lay on a sun lounger by a pool in an exotic location?

Maybe she was dreaming. She pinched her thigh.

Nope. Not dreaming.

Also. Ouch.

“What did you just do? Are you hurting yourself?” Ian grabbed her hand, pulling it away from her thigh. “We have bigger issues than I thought. First, she’s weirdly obsessed with you. Second, she has very little sense of self-preservation. And now, she’s hurting herself.”

“Hey!” She drew her hand away from Ian. But left her other hand in Jameson’s grasp, even though it was no longer throbbing. “I have a sense of self-preservation. And I am not weirdly obsessed with Jameson.”

There was nothing weird about her obsession.

The guy was sex on two legs. Anyone could see that.

Well, except Ian, it appeared.

“But you were hurting yourself,” Jack said, his lips quirking.

He was such a cheerful guy.

It was refreshing.

“I was pinching myself. That isn’t the same as hurting myself. Do you always overreact like this? It’s something else to add to your truth journal. I really think we need to find him a therapist. The quicker, the better.” She gave Jameson a look.

He nodded solemnly. “Agreed.”

Ian huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out.”

“Damn. We’re skipping the foreplay and going right for the good stuff, huh?” Jack asked. “What happened while I was swimming?”

Ian’s mouth opened, then closed. “Oh my God! No! I’m taking her temperature.”

“You need not sound so horrified,” she muttered. “I could be the master of blow jobs, you know.”

Her cheeks went bright red as she realized what she’d just said. What was wrong with her?

“Are you just?” Jack drawled. “Shall we test that?”

“No,” Ian snapped. “You’re here to do a job. She is the job. You can’t fuck the job.”

“I don’t think I like being called the job ,” she muttered to Jameson.

“Ian’s always had a way with words.” Jameson winked at her.

Swoon.

“He’s a bit of a dickfly,” she said.

Jameson started choking and she removed her hand from his to pat his back. “Someone get him some water! He’s choking!”

“I’m fine. I’m fine!” Jameson said, his eyes streaming. “I, um, something got caught in my throat.”

“Was it a fly? That’s happened to me before. It’s not pleasant. I had nightmares about it laying eggs inside me and tons of maggots erupting in my stomach. Don’t worry. That can’t happen.”

“I feel ill,” Ian said.

“Do you want me to take your temperature? I’m sure that we can find an anal thermometer,” she said sweetly.

Ian just glared at her. Ahh, there he was.

“Mouth. Open,” Ian demanded.

“Honestly, he’s pawed my undies, seen my tampons, and now he’s ordering me to open my mouth so he can stick things in it. And he still hasn’t bought me dinner.”

“Maggie,” he growled as Jack and Jameson grinned.

She opened her mouth and waited for the beep.

“Well?” Jameson asked.

“It’s normal,” Ian replied. “How is her hand?”

“It seems good,” Jameson said. “Just like her foot.”

Ian turned to Jack. “Did you carry Maggie up here?”

Oh shit. She’d forgotten about that. She turned to look at Jack pleadingly behind Ian’s back.

Jack’s expression didn’t even change. “Yep. Sure did.”

She let out a small sigh of relief.

Jameson leaned in close to her. Oh, Lord. She shivered as his lips brushed her ear. Was he going to kiss her? Would she survive?

“You’re so naughty.”

She turned her head, biting her lip as she found his face mere inches from hers. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He grinned. “Don’t you? What will you give me to stay quiet?”

“Still no idea what you’re talking about.”

He opened his mouth as he leaned back. And she slammed her hand on his mouth.

“Okay, I owe you.” She removed her hand. She wished she could say he seemed less attractive now that she knew he was a blackmailer.

Sadly, the opposite was true.

There was something wrong with her. She was sure of it.

“Owe him what?” Ian asked suspiciously.

“Dinner. I’m going to make him dinner.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “Why does he get dinner?”

“You get dinner too.”

Ian frowned.

“I’ll make dinner for all of you, okay?”

They really should be embarrassed by how desperate they were to spend time with her.

“That sounds good to me.” Jameson stood, then looked down at the book on the table beside her. “A medical romance? You know, if you’re interested in medicine, you’re free to ask me questions.”

Oh. That was so kind.

How did she answer him nicely?

“You don’t read medical romance because you’re interested in the proper medical knowledge,” Jack told him.

“Oh. Ah. Right.”

To her surprise and delight, Jameson grew red. “I have to go. I’ve got an afternoon shift. Stay off that foot and behave.”

Behave? Why would she want to do that?