Lost in Paradise (Paradise Club #2)(3)

“Here we are.” Camryn stops the golf cart out in front of our overwater bungalows.

“Oh my ... this is ...” My eyes widen as I take in the luxurious bungalows that are perched over the top of the sparkling turquoise sea.

“Let me show you inside,” Camryn says.

We walk over a little bridge, and once we get to the door, Camryn swipes the card across the lock, the light turns green, and it opens for us.

“This is gorgeous,” I state, taking in the all-white and wood interior of the luxurious overwater bungalow.

“Oh my god, look at the pool,” Olivia adds. There is a plunge pool that juts from inside to outside the room. “Look at the fish.” She points to the clear bottom of the pool, where you can see the tropical fish swimming around beneath.

“Whoever designed these rooms did amazing,” I muse. “I’m going to need to know who did this?”

“I’ll find out for you. Come on, you’re next door,” Camryn informs me.

Just as we’re leaving, there’s a knock at the door.

Opening Olivia’s door, there stands a Scandinavian god—blond hair pulled into a man bun, a bit of stubble on his jawline, a white polo shirt pulled tightly across his muscular chest, and thick corded biceps. The gorgeous man has a bottle of champagne and a platter of chocolate-covered strawberries.

“Miss Starr, Miss Starr,” he greets Camryn and me. “I’m Leon, Miss Pearce’s host.”

“What the hell?” Olivia mouths to me.

She is one lucky girl because that man looks like a god with the sun shining behind him.

“Leon, welcome. I need you to look after Olivia as she’s a VIP guest,” my sister explains to the man. He nods in understanding and gives her a blinding smile as he looks hungrily over at Olivia.

“Liv, this is your butler,” Camryn explains as Leon enters the bungalow, putting the bottle of champagne and strawberries down for her on the counter.

Olivia is staring at him in awe and appears a little flustered in his presence, much like I am.

“Miss Pearce, I’m your host, Leon,” he introduces himself directly to her. “And I am here to be at your service day and night, to fulfill any and all of your needs.” The way he says needs makes the meaning well known.

Olivia mouths to Camryn, “Anything?”

She nods as if this is completely normal having a gorgeous man on speed dial at your beck and call.

There better be someone waiting for me at my bungalow because I’m going to be pretty upset if there isn’t.

“Liv, dinner’s in a couple of hours. Meet you out front. Have fun,” Camryn tells her as she grabs my arm and pulls me out of Olivia’s bungalow.

“Is that man for real, Cam?” I question her.

“Yes, he certainly is. Each room at the resort has a host allocated to it. They have been handpicked especially for you, depending on your wants and desires. They will cater to anything you want or need.”

“Anything I want ... as in ... sexually?” I ask, wanting to be sure before I proposition one of the poor guys. I don’t want to get sued for sexual misconduct or something.

“Yes. You can ask them to do anything you want, or they can arrange something for you. You have a whole electronic tablet filled with naughty requests.” My sister laughs.

An entire electronic tablet dedicated to fantasy requests.

I shake my head.

This can’t be real.

This island can’t be real.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think anything like this would exist and that I might like it.

“You know it’s okay to want to try things, to push yourself out of your comfort zone. It’s also okay to not do anything, too,” my sister adds. She’s letting me know that it’s all right to have fun, and it’s equally fine to be me. “Now, here’s your bungalow. It is the same as Liv’s,” she explains as she swipes the key against the reader. The green light flashes and the door clicks open. We step into the near-identical bungalow as Liv’s with its white and wooden interior and the plunge pool jutting off the deck into the turquoise sea. “What do you think?” Camryn asks.

“It’s magnificent … beats dreary old London,” I say with a chuckle.

“I sent Kimberly a photo of me when I arrived at the beach while she was dealing with slushy snow back in New York.” My sister smirks.

“I need this,” I tell her as I suck in a deep breath of ocean air. “I’ve lost myself. You know how it is starting up, especially in cutthroat industries like ours. I don’t remember the last time I stopped and did something for me.”

“I get it, babe. Let your hair down and have fun. Become someone else if you must. This is one place where your real life means nothing. Live out your wildest fantasies and then go back home with a nice tan and some great spank bank material.”

Maybe she’s right. I need to let go, and a sex resort is probably the least judgmental place ever.

Could I pretend to be someone I’m not?

Is there somewhere deep down inside of Ivy Starr that has the balls to do this?

There’s a knock at the door, which pulls me from my thoughts. Nerves dance in my stomach at the anticipation of who could be behind that door. The reality of what this island is and what it has to offer storms into my mind.