Maid for the Rock Star

Part 13

Thirteen

She needn't have worried. After dinner, she spent an hour talking to her family on an online video call while her wristband was mercifully silent. She even managed to squeeze in a little light reading of her own, after she'd found Annette's stack of books sitting outside her room.

Jay avoided her for three days, though she caught sight of him lying on his private beach, reading, more than once. If she lingered for a moment or two to admire the lines of his sweat-sheened body, spread on a towel for all the world to see, surely no one would blame her. She was human, after all. Looking wasn't licking...and she couldn't deny that it had been a long time since she'd licked any part of a man's anatomy.

Not that Jay was on the staff menu, she reminded herself. She'd be lucky to get anything as tasty as mango chicken again this week, let alone raw rock star. A raw, hot mess of a rock star. Or maybe he'd gotten over his momentary insecurity, managed to contact his sister, and decided that he was the deity of music once more. His ego certainly seemed big enough for it.

On the third night after her book delivery to Villa Maxima, Audra eyed the evening's burned dinner offering. Penny had evidently distracted the sous-chef so much that he'd singed the garlic prawns. It wasn't that she didn't like king prawns; it was just time consuming to peel them out of their shells, and if they were overcooked, they might be inedible. She tentatively touched the tiniest crustacean with the tongs.

Someone bumped her elbow, sending the tongs flying. "Don't do it!" Serge cried.

Audra stared at the grinning personal trainer. "Why? Am I so fat I need to cut down on my protein intake?"

"You're gorgeous just as you are. But if you eat one of those, you might break a tooth. Adam did." Serge jerked his head at the gym manager, whose thunderous expression was partially concealed by the bloodstained wad of paper napkins he held to his mouth.

Overcooked prawns. Ugh. Audra reached for the beef curry instead, ladled a generous dollop onto her plate and carried it to an empty table.

"Do you have plans tonight?" Serge's plastic bowl of fruit salad clacked to the table and he took a seat beside her.

"Hmm." She deliberately delayed by taking a bite of beef. "I plan on staying on the island, relaxing for a couple of hours after dinner, before I drag myself into bed to fall asleep for a few hours until I have to wake up tomorrow and vacuum the sweaty gym carpet."

"Hey, it's not just sweat. That's my gym. There's blood, sweat, tears, toil and determination soaked into that carpet!"

Audra laughed. "Glad I only vacuum it and don't have to shampoo it. I've cleaned some crazy things off hotel room floors, but I wouldn't have the faintest idea how to get determination out of carpet."

"Me neither. Hey, do you remember that hen's party last week?"

How could she forget? The bride-to-be and her friends had cackled their way through their stay, drinking the bar almost dry each happy hour as they demanded every cocktail on the menu and a few they'd probably dreamed up just to confuse the bar staff. Not to mention the steamy reading material they'd left behind. Pressing her lips together, Audra nodded.

"They bought me a carton of beer as a thank you for running their boot camp sessions. Gazza from the bottle shop in town rang to tell me, asking me what I wanted. I could've gotten a carton of VB." Audra wrinkled her nose at the name of her brothers' favourite cheap beer. "See? I figured you wouldn't like that, and if I can't tempt you to into town to try the beers at the brewery, maybe I could bring them to you. So I asked him to send a taster pack and I've got Patel keeping it in the back of one of the Catering fridges."