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asked.
    She drew in a deep breath, obviously thinking it over, and suddenly not seeming as argumentative as a moment ago. Good—maybe the wine was doing the trick—urging her to drop her guard. The problem with emotional people was that sometimes they stumbled upon emotions so deep they couldn’t face them, so they turned them off. That was clearly what Jenna had done—with many of her feelings surrounding sex—and his job was to take those bad emotions and memories and replace them with good ones.
    “When I’m with a guy I really care about,” Jenna finally replied, “sure, I revere sex. Only it’s . . . the intimacy I’m really holding in reverence then. Because . . . if it were just the sex, it wouldn’t need to be with a guy I care about, right?”
    “Right,” he said. “So you revere intimacy, but not just sex itself.”
    She nodded. “And you . . . you value sex alone that way, without intimacy?” she asked as if sincerely trying to understand.
    “Yes,” he replied easily. “Humans were built for sex—our bodies were designed for it. It’s one of our most basic instincts and among life’s greatest pleasures. Everything about sex—every nuance, every physical response, every little kink or fetish—fascinates me. I’ve never seen the point in trying to hide that or be dishonest about it.”
    “You know,” she said, pausing to take another sip of wine, her meal now appearing long forgotten, “maybe I wish I were like you. But I’m not. And the trouble with people like you—and with my friends Shannon and Kevin—is that just because you’re satisfied by the act of sex without emotion, you think everyone else should be, too.”
    At this, however, he shook his head in firm disagreement. “I never said that. And I’m in no way suggesting you shouldn’t feel emotion with sex. That’s how you happen to be put together and it’s fine.”
    “Then what are you suggesting?”
    He considered his answer—how could he make her understand? “Sometimes,” he began, “there are bigger issues at work than intimacy and emotion. And if you let me design two weeks of fantasies for you, I guarantee that every time you have sex after leaving here, it will be better , even more emotional, with more intimacy.”
    Her eyes went wide with doubt. “That’s a bold claim, Mr. Powers.”
    “Damn right.” And he wasn’t backing down from it a bit. “What I’m suggesting, Jenna, is that if you can temporarily push aside the idea of romantic intimacy, you’ll leave here with a much clearer, healthier, happier view of sex, which will make you a happier person more likely to find healthier, longer-lasting relationships.”
    She peered across the table at him as if maybe she was actually thinking it over. Her blue eyes sparkled in the candlelight now that dusk had fallen over the gazebo. The sunset painted the sky to the west in shades of vibrant pink and orange, but he didn’t bother looking because he found himself liking the view of Jenna more. He knew her. In a primal way. He understood her so much better than she thought. And beyond the obligations of his job, he was struck with the surprising urge to rescue her . . . from herself, whether she liked it or not.
    Jenna could scarcely believe the promises Brent Powers was willing to make. They were ridiculous. And he must think she was ridiculous if he expected her to believe them. Given how weirdly personal the conversation now felt, she decided to come completely clean. “You want to know the whole truth, the reason I’m here?”
    “Very much so. Because like I said, most people don’t come to the Hotel Erotique to turn down the sex.”
    “I didn’t even enter the contest,” she confessed. “My friend Kevin entered my name—because he thinks I’m not having enough sex. I wanted to kill him when I found out, but then I decided I could use a free beach vacation. I filled out the forms online on a lark, just for fun, and also figuring if I