"How long have you been running the restaurant?" Jonas asked conversationally.
Verity gave him a sidelong glance and realized his eyes were closed. She relaxed. "A couple of years. I worked in several restaurants including the one here at the spa before I got the money and the nerve to open my own."
"Where else did you work besides Sequence Springs?"
"Oh, here and there," she answered carelessly.
"Here and there?" Jonas opened one eye. "Such as?"
"Well, there was Claude's place on Martinique. I learned a lot of French techniques there. Then there was a little cafe in Spain where I picked up a few pointers on vegetables. I spent a few months studying Mexican cooking at a restaurant in Mazatlan. I learned about wine while working for a woman who owned a little hole-in-the-wall place just outside of Rio de Janeiro and I learned to wash dishes all by myself."
Verity smiled. "I told you, you aren't the only one who's had a well-rounded education. I just don't have any formal degrees to go along with mine."
"What did your father do? Drag you around the world behind him?"
"Ever since my mother died when I was eight," Verity confirmed. "Sequence Springs is the first real home I've ever had. When I settled here three years ago I decided it would take an act of God or an economic disaster to uproot me. What about you, Jonas? Think you'll ever settle down?"
"I don't think about it much," he said, his voice becoming surprisingly rough without any warning. His eyes opened and he looked directly at her. "I take it you didn't go to college?"
Verity gave him a wry glance. "Dad didn't think much of the formal education process. He thought he could do a better job of educating me himself. You want to know the truth? I don't even have a high school diploma, let alone a college degree."
He gave her a quizzical look. "Does that bother you?"
Verity shrugged. "No, not really. I could have gotten my GED, I suppose, and applied to college, but the truth is, by the time that occurred to me I had already decided to open a restaurant and I didn't need any formal degrees for that."
"You know something? You're one of the more interesting employers I've had in the past few years, Verity."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Jonas's leg idly brushed against Verity's in the water and she felt a tiny thrill along her nerve endings.
She took another swallow of beer and discreetly moved her leg out of the way. The last thing she wanted to do was give the hired help any ideas, she told herself. Then her sense of humor took hold.
The thought of seducing her dishwasher was unexpectedly intriguing. It was also amusing.
"Why the smile?" Jonas asked. "Think of something funny?"
Verity shook her head quickly. "No. I was just relaxing."
"The restaurant business is hard on the feet." Jonas reached beneath the water and pulled Verity's foot onto his thigh before she realized his intention. He began a deep, slow massage of her calf and the sole of her foot. "In fact, I've been meaning to tell you that you work too hard. I think you need a little fattening up, too. You're eating too much vegetarian health food for your own good. You need to introduce a little grease into your diet."
She bristled. "My diet is a heck of a lot healthier than yours. Do you know how much pure animal fat was in that hamburger I saw you eating this afternoon? Have you any idea what that stuff does to your insides?"
"No, but I have a feeling that if I let you, you'll tell me exactly what it does, and I don't think I want to hear it tonight. I'm trying to unwind from a hard day's work. So are you. Relax, boss lady." His thumbs probed deeply.
Verity started to argue but suddenly she was overwhelmed by the wonderful sensations Jonas was creating with his hands. She couldn't remember anything ever feeling as wonderful as his touch on the sore muscles of her calf. "Jonas..."
His heavy leg settled across her lap. "You do me while I do you. Fair enough?"
A wave of pure physical pleasure that had its origin in her toes moved through Verity. There was nothing wrong with a massage. It was very therapeutic. Heaven knew they had both worked hard during the weekend. So why did his question have such sensual overtones? she wondered. Or was her mind simply running wild?
"Fair enough."
Tentatively she stroked his hairy leg, seeking the feel of the long muscles there. When she had one shaped beneath her palms she carefully squeezed her fingers.
"Ah, yes, that's it." Jonas's hand tightened for an instant around Verity's foot in a grip that was just short of painful. "Christ, that feels good, boss lady."
She wasn't sure if he was referring to the way she was stroking his leg or the way her foot felt to him.
Verity intensified her grip and deepened the massage. For a few moments they worked in silence, eventually switching feet. Verity was beginning to feel more relaxed than she had in a long while. Her eyes half-closed as she concentrated dreamily on the innocently sensual sensations of giving and getting a massage.
"I wish you wouldn't call me boss lady," she finally said after a while. She took one hand off his leg to help herself to another swallow of beer.
There was a moment of silence while Jonas did the same and then he said softly, "I don't really think of you as a boss."
"No?"
"You want to know the truth? I think of you as a full-fledged tyrant."
"I had no idea I'd made such an impact on you." Verity squeezed his calf a bit harder than she had intended.
Jonas winced. "I can just see you back in the Renaissance presiding over a Medici court salon. You'd have the courtiers falling all over themselves trying to please you. They'd call you their flame-haired lady tyrant."
Verity thought about that for a moment. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't most Renaissance court salons run by professional courtesans?"
Jonas chuckled. "You did pick up a well-rounded education, didn't you?"
"My father didn't believe in the formal educational process but he insisted I do one hell of a lot of reading,"
Verity said reminiscently.
"You're right about some of the ladies who ran the salons.
Think you'd like the life of a courtesan?" His eyes glittered teasingly between narrowed lids.
"That career path has lost some of its luster these days, but it would certainly have been a viable option for a woman back in the sixteenth century. It was either that or the convent. Either avenue gave a smart, savvy woman a path to power, and either choice sounds better than the only other job available."