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with gray. Opening the towel, she stared at her full breasts, softly rounded belly, and the dark tangle of curls at the apex of her thighs. Venus on the half shell, anyone?
    The knock came again, and she dropped the towel and slipped her arms through the sleeves of her silk robe. Her eyes glowed with a primal knowledge, anticipation zinging through her veins like lightning bolts. Javier, Steven, Franco, and Marshal, you don’t know what you’re about to get yourselves into.
     
    “Damn, chica , you are totally fuckable.” The dark-haired Hispanic man gave Gen a quick up-and-down look and smirked. “This ain’t gonna be no hardship.”
    Gen blinked, not sure she’d heard him right. Had he paid her a compliment? Somehow, being called “totally fuckable” didn’t seem to warrant a thank-you. “Won’t you please come in?”
    Double entendre much, Genevieve?
    “Yeah, man, move your hairy ass. It’s fracking cold out here.” A massive blond shoved the first man out of the way. He didn’t even glance at Gen as he stomped his way inside. “Hurry up, Franco. Let’s shut the door sometime this century.”
    Franco scowled at the other two as he entered the cabin, which seemed much smaller than it had before the testosterone level had spiked to cardiac-arrest levels. He turned to face Gen, and his expression thawed. “Nice to see you again so soon, my lovely.” In a curiously old-fashioned gesture, he took her hand and bent low to brush his lips over her knuckles. His long dark hair was pulled into a tight braid. She wondered if he suspected that she was more than just a client.
    “Jesus, man. Enough with the fracking act already.” The blond rubbed his hands vigorously, taking up residence in front of the fireplace.
    Franco scowled at the other man’s back. “Courtesy, Steven, is a habit, not an act.”
    Plastering what she hoped looked like a genuine smile on her face, Gen fell back into the role of hostess. “Anyone hungry?”
    The blond, Steven, glanced over. “You bet your sweet ass we are. That was one hell of a trip, and I pulled a doubleheader last night. Need to feed the big soldier if you want the little one to stand to.” He winked at Javier, who laughed.
    Note to self: that was not a very sexy response. Steven seemed to have a bit of an attitude problem. Javier, uncouth though he may be, was at least trying. Franco was as smooth as ever, but something about him unsettled her. Nothing definitive she could report back to Alison. “I can just go and fix—” Gen started toward the kitchen, but Franco stopped her, placing a hand on her arm. His touch was light but somehow menacing at the same time.
    “Dinner can wait. You are the client, and we should get started with you. Perhaps you need to warm up a bit. Come sit over by the fire.” Franco took her hand in a firm grip and tugged her toward the hearth. Pushing lightly but insistently on her shoulders, he forced her down onto the couch. “Do you require something to drink? I can get you a glass of wine or maybe some hot tea?”
    “No thanks.” Gen got the feeling he was maneuvering her, just as he had done the night before. Was his personality really so dominant that he would keep pushing her even when she felt unsure?
    Slipping his hand beneath the crook of her knee, he used his thumb to lightly massage the skin there, a few buzzes from their health shields taking care of any unwanted guests at this private moment. Even under his masterful touch, her mind would not stop churning, and she froze up, bombarded with the stark reality.
    Franco’s mouth replaced his thumb as he kissed the sensitive skin at her knee. He wouldn’t get paid if she didn’t use him to satisfy herself sexually. She wondered what would happen if she told him to bugger off. Would he continue to push her against her will? Her gaze shifted to where Javier and Steven flanked the fireplace, exchanging significant glances at each other as though she and Franco didn’t