Free Smashwords version Sweet Surrender by Georgette St. Clair Page B

bakery, to a door at the very end of the hallway.  She really needed
to explore the rest of the bakery.  What the heck else do we have here?
she thought, shocked. A dungeon? A bordello?
    Viola came back in the room just as the front door opened, and
Rafe rushed into the store, taking in Poppy’s panicked expression.
    He ran over to her, and put his hands on her shoulders.
 “It’s okay. Calm down. I got this. What’s the emergency?”
    Viola leaned over and whispered in his ear. He looked at Poppy
thoughtfully, and then a devilish smile tugged at his lips.
    “Hey.” Poppy squeaked, panicked. She didn’t like where this was
going. Her eyes lit on Jeffrey, who was attempting to hide behind the rack
of lingerie. The coward.  “You and Jeffrey can do it!” she pleaded.
    “No way. I’d rather be dipped in a vat of boiling acid,” Viola
snapped.
    “Thanks very much, but I’d rather have root canal without
anaesthesia, while being eaten alive by rabid wolverines,” Jeffrey said,
shooting Viola a look of disgust.
    Viola glared at him. “Oh, really? I’d rather be dipped in steak
sauce and thrown into a pit full of starving lions.” “Is that so? I’d rather walk across broken glass barefoot-“ and
the two wandered off, debating over what tortures they’d suffer rather than
rubbing hot oil on each other’s naked bodies. “Come on. We got this,” Rafe said, grabbing her hand. “I actually
think this will be very good for you. It’ll help you shed some of your
inhibitions.” “I have inhibitions for a reason. My body is far from model
perfect and I don’t like people to look at it.” Poppy’s handed tightened on
Rafe’s in panic.
    He let go of her hand
and gently p laced both hands on her face and tilted
her face up to look at him, and she felt the rest of the world fade away, and
the frantic pounding of her heartbeat slowed. He stared down at her, his gaze
calm and commanding. She could fall into the caramel lakes that were his eyes
and drown, and die happy there.
    “Forget about what your mother thought about her body. Forget
about fashion magazines that make their money by convincing women they need to
look like airbrushed, flat-chested human giraffes.  There are many men,
myself included, who like a full figured woman who loves to eat. The students
will love this, it will help your sister’s shop, and it will be very good for
you. In more ways than one.”
    “Can’t we just cancel the class and refund their money?” Poppy
pleaded, her voice shaking.
    “No way. What kind of reputation do you want this bakery to have?”
He grabbed her by the hand and led her down the hall.
    “Er…Is it even possible to ruin this bakery’s reputation?” Poppy
followed him into the room, panic swelling in her breast.
    “It is if people think that the owner makes promises she doesn’t
keep,” he said in a low voice. He glanced around the room. The couples were
seated in a row of folding chairs facing the massage table like an eager
audience at a rock concert; Viola had already turned on a CD boombox which
played soothing meditation music with sitar sounds and forest noises, and had
lit scented tea candles that perfumed the air with the sweet scent of jasmine.
    Like a condemned woman, Viola slowly walked into the tiny changing
room, where she shed her clothes and tried not to picture herself as a giant
beached whale flopping on the massage table. She emerged clutching a towel
around her body for dear life.
    Oh God. She had rolls. She had a belly. She had big thighs that
brushed together when she walked.
    The massage table awaited. She had no choice. Damn Penelope, yet
again.
    Trembling, she climbed on to the table and lay down, tucking her
face in the donut-shaped hole at the end of the table. Then Rafe picked up a
pair of headphones that were lying on the tray table nearby, and fitted them on
her ears, and she was swallowed up in the soothing music.
    Suddenly, he flicked the towel off, and she was