“Wow, I’m impressed, Ash. I didn’t expect you to take me all the way to Asia on our first date,” Sera teased. Privately, she wondered what he had in mind. Were they getting matching mani-pedis? Facials for two? Or perhaps massages? Somehow, she wasn’t quite keen on the idea of a masseuse’s hands all over Asher’s oiled-up body…

“I think you will really enjoy this, Bliss.” Asher gently tugged her up to the front desk, but Sera barely noticed what he was saying to the clerk, beyond noting that he was claiming the reservation he’d called in earlier. She was too busy looking around—and sniffing around as well. Her keen nose scented cedar, lemon, and a sweeter fruity smell she identified as yuzu, a Japanese fruit she’d sampled occasionally and even incorporated into a dessert or two. The effect was lulling… so much so that it wasn’t until the clerk asked her to sign a release promising she wasn’t pregnant or likely to have a heat-induced stroke that Sera realized what kind of spa this must be.

“Hot tubs?” she asked Ash. Her pulse began to pound.

He beamed. “Among other things.”

“Naked hot tubs?” Sera’s voice was a bare squeak.

“Is there another kind?” he inquired innocently.

Sera scanned Asher’s face, but he seemed quite sincere. Maybe in Israel, these paratrooper types bared their bods sans shame, but Sera wasn’t at all sure she was up for that amount of intimacy. Not that she hadn’t considered getting naked with Asher, but somehow she’d envisioned circumstances a little less… outdoorsy… for the exalted occasion.

He seemed to sense her uncertainty. “I’ve reserved us a private tub,” he assured her.

“You mean there are public naked tubs?” Sera asked faintly. Her lips felt numb. Maybe I’m having a stroke right now, she thought. I shouldn’t have signed that waiver.

“A women’s-only tub and a coed public bath, I believe. They’re less expensive than the private baths, so they’re very popular with students and the like. But we’ll have a tub all to ourselves tonight.”

Yipe. Sera gulped. She wasn’t exactly wild about mooning the Wolf on their first date. She’d pictured a little under-cover action, sure; but bathing together in the buff? He might have the chiseled physique of a Greek god, but Sera worshiped the goddess of butter, flour, and sugar—and it showed in her comfortably curvy frame. Thank God I remembered to shave, at least, she thought with a tinge of hysteria. But man, this is all moving just a little fast.

She wasn’t sure quite how she felt… disappointed, perhaps? She’d thought better of Asher somehow. She knew from things he’d said that he was interested in getting intimate. She hadn’t exactly put the kibosh on that notion herself, with the way she’d been climbing all over him at dinner. Yet the idea that he’d planned ahead for their rendezvous—that he’d taken them to a place he knew they’d be getting undressed from the get-go—it bothered her, a little. She told herself she was being silly. They were both adults—adults who had expressed their attraction quite openly in the past. But she still felt a bit queasy about the whole thing. Did she really know Asher well enough for this… and was their first time together going to be in some sauna? She fiddled nervously with her hair.

“So, um… are these tubs, ah… well lit?”

Asher burst out laughing, pulling Sera close for a hug that did more to disorient her than did his sudden mirth. “I’m sorry, Bliss. I’m afraid I was having a bit of fun at your expense.” Letting her go, he reached into the shoulder bag he’d carried in from the Land Rover, pulled out something that looked like—no, was—Serafina’s trusty one-piece swimsuit. Her extremely frumpy, boy-short-bottomed, pink-polka-dotted one-piece swimsuit. Seeing its homeliness in Asher’s manly grasp was almost as mortifying as if he’d pulled out her period panties.

“That’s my…” Sera stared uncomprehendingly. “How did you…”

“I asked Pauline to sneak into your things and grab a bathing suit for you. She passed it to me on the sly yesterday. I didn’t want you to catch wind of where we were going ahead of time and spoil the surprise.”

“But I… You said…” Sera looked around. It didn’t look like anyone else was wearing a swimsuit under their kimono.

“Most people do bathe nude, Bliss. But I would never presume like that on our first date. I brought one for myself, see?” He held up another scrap of spandex he’d dug out of the bag.

Dear lord, a Speedo. Probably quite common for Israelis, who seemed far less body-conscious than their American counterparts. What was I hoping for, board shorts? Or am I actually bummed he’s not going full Monty? A blush flamed across her cheeks. Asher had never had any intention of putting the moves on her. While she’d been picturing the sex scene from Showgirls, he’d had a G-rated kiddie pool romp in mind. She felt sheepish for her unworthy thoughts—of course Asher wouldn’t subject her to some sleazy setup on their first date. Yet now that she knew he hadn’t, there was a small part of her that wished he had.

Asher put his arm around her. “Come,” he said, drawing her toward the rear exit. “There are women’s locker rooms to the left, over there.” He pointed. “The men’s are upstairs. I will meet you at the bath—see, the symbol for ours is on the key.” He pointed to the Japanese character inscribed on the big wooden key fob in his hand. “We’ve got the waterfall tub. Since I’ll probably be ready before you, I’ll go in and leave the door unlocked—all right?”

“Yup, meet you there,” she said, pasting on a smile.

Hot tub, here I come.

* * *

Wrapped and double wrapped in the capacious kimono, feet sliding a bit in the rubber sandals the spa provided, Sera tiptoed through the thoughtfully landscaped grounds, nodding politely to other guests as she went. A bathrobe isn’t exactly my best look, she fretted. Thank goodness it was dark, and the lighting was as discreet as the location was elegant. She moved through gnarled trees that looked like supersized bonsai, passed paths inlaid with slate paving stones and bordered with weathered wooden beams, noting how the spa’s architects had created private enclosures through creative use of the mountainous terrain and discreet fencing, along with climbing vines and trees. Almost too soon, she located the symbol for the waterfall tub and eased the sliding door open.

As Sera’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, she saw she was in a spacious outdoor enclosure, walled to her right by the side of the main building, and on the left, screened by a coyote fence from the prying eyes of other guests. At the back was a sauna with a small closet for robes and towels, and nearby she spied what must be a cold plunge with a tiny waterfall splashing into it. No, thanks, Sera thought. I’ve got cold enough feet as it is.

The center of the space was occupied by a capacious, sunken hot tub carved from natural stone, steaming gently against the rapidly falling nighttime temperature. It was perfectly landscaped into the native stone tiles that covered the ground, with a pleasingly curved lima bean shape to it and several benches at different depths for bathers.

Asher was waiting in the deep end.

“Hi,” she said shyly.

“Hello again, Bliss.”

He wore the wet look well. Even with the meager lighting, Sera could make out beads of moisture running down his chest, spreading a sheen across his shoulders and arms, which he’d draped across the back of the tub. Crisp bronze fur dusted his chest just the right amount, and his damp blond hair was appealingly disheveled. Beneath the gently roiling water, Sera could only imagine the rest—Speedo and all. Her mouth went dry.

Ready or not, here I come. She wondered how Asher would react to her “suit.”

For, somewhere between stuffing her shoes and stockings into her cubby and taking a deliciously hot, yuzu-scented shower in the locker room, Sera had come to a conclusion. She was, metaphorically speaking, about as “in Rome” as a girl could get. There would never be a better time to do as the Romans did. Asher might be a gentleman, but that didn’t mean she had to be a lady—not if she wanted to challenge herself to get over her past. At the last second, she’d stashed one final item in her locker before heading out to meet her destiny.

Now, aware of Asher’s studiedly polite gaze, Sera sucked in her gut, straightened her shoulders, and slid her robe off. She paused for a beat to let him get a gander…

Then jumped, full Monty, into the tub.

“Hoo! Hah! Hot, hot, HOT!” she shrieked.

Stunned by the sizzling heat on her autumn-chilled skin, Sera thrashed over to a bench near the shallow end. She was caught between wanting to stand up and cool off in the nippy night air, and a belated attack of modesty that had her needing to shield her more… buoyant… assets from her date’s interested eyes. She elected to endure the heat, scrunching down as low as she could get on the stone bench.

“It takes a bit of getting used to,” Asher remarked, half walking, half swimming to her end of the pool. Smiling, he tucked a strand of wet hair behind Sera’s ear as he loomed over her, sending hot water lapping up to her shoulders. “So, Bliss… either you forgot your suit or I’m overdressed,” he said, brow quirked inquiringly.

“I… uh…” Suddenly, all the lines she’d practiced in her head melted like snowflakes in the steamy air. She ducked her head, pretending to study the jet system set into the stonework at her side.

Asher tilted her head back his way, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Listen, sweetheart… I didn’t bring you here for this.” His fingers stroked lightly down her neck, across her shoulders, making her shiver and belying his words. “I only wanted you to enjoy this very special place. I never intended or expected that we should…” He left the rest unsaid.

He called me “sweetheart”! Her heart did a little happy dance. Yeah, Sera—and then he said he didn’t want to fool around, the Negative Nelly part of her mind reminded her. The bottom dropped out of Sera’s stomach, and suddenly she felt very, very naked indeed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, sinking lower in the steaming water. “I shouldn’t have… I’ll go back and get my suit…”

“Please don’t,” said Asher, coming to rest beside her on the bench—close, but not touching. “I only meant…” He stopped, sighed. “Bliss, I want very much to be with you—be naked with you—but I remember what you told me, and I didn’t want you to feel any pressure…” He slid away to dip his head under the water. He let the steaming liquid sluice his hair back from his forehead, as if it would help clear his thoughts.

“What I told you?” Sera ventured. She had an uneasy feeling she knew what he meant.

“About your, ah… condition.” Now it was Asher’s turn to look uncomfortable. “I didn’t want to rush you into anything, but believe me, Bliss… this Speedo doesn’t fit quite as well as it did before you left that robe behind.”

“Really?” she said, smiling just a bit. His confession pleased her inordinately, even as his thoughtfulness calmed her nerves, reminding her this was Asher. Asher wouldn’t ever embarrass her, or shame her the way Blake so often had. She could afford to be a little daring with him, to experiment with her wild side. Maybe things wouldn’t work out, but then again… she was in the land of enchantment now. Maybe a little of that magic would wear off on her.

Pauline would be so proud, she thought with a touch of humor as she stared up at the impossibly handsome Israeli. Now, if she’ll just stay out of my head for the next several hours…

“I would never joke about something as serious as a Speedo, Bliss,” Asher assured her, belying his words with a broad smile.

Sera floated closer. “I hope you don’t mind if I don’t take your word for that,” she grinned. “Because I really think I need to find out for myself.”

* * *

The gentle chime of a bell interrupted what was proving to be a very magical moment. Gasping, Sera pulled away from Asher, who was nibbling her neck in a way that made her nerve endings trill like a chorus of songbirds. Since she was perched atop his lap and his arms were tightly banded about her waist, she didn’t get far.

“Waterfall tub, this is your five-minute reminder,” came a polite voice over the intercom.

Sera groaned. And things were going so well. No intrusive visions of Aunt Pauline. No yips, stutters, or stops. Only mounting passion more intense than anything she’d ever experienced. Asher had been so gentle, so thorough, stoking her desire with exquisite slowness, taking his time to treat each inch of her skin to the touch of his lips, tongue, and hands, getting to know every curve in a way that was both respectful and deeply, deeply intimate. No matter how she panted and pleaded, he wouldn’t speed up either, murmuring Hebrew words she suspected meant “whoa, girl” even as he made her pulse race faster and faster. Had the bell not rung, she marveled, he might very well have rung her bell. I never thought it could happen. But with Asher, everything feels so natural. I’m not self-conscious. I trust him. And more, I trust me.