When Vera stepped up to the reception desk and slid her voucher and passport across the counter, the girl flicked her eyes over them, then looked up at Vera from beneath perfectly arched brows. Quick, quick—like a bird. The glance darted back down to the documents. In that glance Vera caught a glint of hidden amusement, as if the girl wanted to break into a huge grin but wouldn't let herself.

Vera quietly pulled out her compact, angled it so the girl couldn't see, and checked herself. No, everything was fine. She gave a mental shrug.

"It says here 'full package, including additional services,'" the girl said, looking at Vera again with that same knowing half-smile.

"Yeah, exactly. Room, meals, excursions—everything's paid for," Vera answered, a touch of irritation creeping in. She had come here to relax, she'd paid upfront, and really didn't want to hear about any hidden extras.

"No extras," the girl said cheerfully. "Everything's covered, even your personal guide." This time the professional smile was wide and dazzling. She handed back the documents. "Enjoy your vacation."

"Where's the tour desk? I'd rather get all the paperwork out of the way now."

"You don't have to go anywhere. Your guide will introduce himself. He's on probation, actually, so he'll be trying extra hard for you." She slid a small plastic pad across the counter. "Left index finger here, please." Vera pressed it. Click. "Here's your room key. Once again—have a wonderful stay."

Vera smiled back and headed for the elevator.

The room was more than acceptable: big, sea-facing, with a balcony. A king-size bed right in the middle, a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, huge closets where Vera unpacked in five minutes flat, a giant wall-mounted TV, and a well-stocked minibar.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks of sea and sun—the thought sang in her head. The quarterly report was finally behind her; the boss had been pleased.

"Vera, you're a star. Keep it up!"

She'd seized the moment. "Mr. Pomper, any chance of that vacation now? I skipped mine last year..."

The old salt had nothing to say to that. He glanced at the report again, sighed, and waved her off to accounting for her vacation pay.

Vera slipped into her swimsuit, threw a light dress over it, put on her Mario Rossi shades, checked the mirror, and fluffed her hair. Not bad. Stylish, but not trying too hard. No one would ever guess she was just an office drone. Especially him—tall, dark, tanned, educated, witty... Well, he could be blond, she supposed.

She was starving. She shut the door, walked to the elevator, pressed the button, and when the doors slid open she almost stepped straight into Him.

There he was, smiling at her. Exactly her fantasy made flesh: tall, lean, dark-haired, athletic build, soft almost tender eyes, perfectly groomed, beautifully dressed. An expensive cologne tickled her nose. His lightweight clothes cost serious money—even if they'd come from a top-end Chinese factory, but Vera knew the difference between Guangzhou and Milan.

"I was just coming up to meet you," he said with a faint, sexy foreign lilt; the r's rolled just a little, so "meet" came out somewhere between meet and mriet. "I'm Mathias. I'll be your guide for the duration of your stay." He pressed the button for the lobby. "Whenever you're ready for an excursion, call this number"—he handed her a card — "and we'll sort out the details."

When they stepped out of the elevator, Vera offered her hand. He shook it respectfully, gave a small bow, and disappeared.

Wow.

Sunlight poured through the restaurant windows; half-naked vacationers flashed by; farther out, gulls dotted the sky. Vera ate tomato omelette with crisp toast and washed it down with fresh orange juice.

Just being photographed next to a man like Mathias would already be something to post on Instagram. The whole office would die of envy. And if more happened... She stopped the thought right there. Que será, será.

She waited three hours—walked the grounds, took a dip, lay in the sun, ignored the oily once-overs from the local Casanovas. Right now she couldn't care less about greasy Romeos. Her mind was full of Mathias.

Back in her room she called him. She gave her voice the cool, indifferent edge of a customer who has already paid and now expects service. She asked what tours he could offer. After listening to the list she chose the scuba dive.

Mathias picked her up in a little open-top sports car and they roared off to the dive center. Palms and magnolias flashed by on the right; on the left the sea glittered. They were handed gear; Mathias helped her into hers. God, what a body! Apollo in the flesh. And those abs...

Underwater it was pure magic. In the crystalline blue, schools of bright fish drifted past, stingrays glided like dark ghosts, pink jellyfish hung weightless. Every so often Mathias touched her arm to point the way; each touch sent an electric shiver through her.

She surfaced tired and euphoric. He took her to a tiny restaurant that smelled of wood smoke and fresh-caught fish. He seemed to know everything about everything and to have been everywhere worth going.

The next day they hiked the local mountain; the day after, they sailed on a small yacht he skippered himself. He was courteous, attentive, witty. In the evenings they danced until they forgot the world; he felt the music perfectly and led so confidently she barely recognized herself on the floor.

The only thing missing was a little masculine boldness. Several times she'd dropped broad hints that a kiss would be more than welcome, but he never quite took the bait. She caught him summoning the courage, only to look away at the last moment.

Chance decided for them.

After a sailing trip they were walking along the beach when a pack of local thugs blocked the path. Their oily eyes gleamed with menace; their comments made it clear what they had in mind. Fear shot through Vera and she pressed herself against Mathias.

Yet he spoke very calmly. "Gentlemen," he said, "walk away now and no one gets hurt. Leave the lady with me."

Despite her fear, Vera relished the contrast between his refined tone and their crude threats.

What happened next flashed past like a silent film reel. Thugs flew in every direction like vegetables exploding from an uncovered blender. When it was over Vera threw herself at Mathias, arms around his neck, and kissed him right there among the groaning bodies scattered on the sand.

When he walked her to her door that night she was still holding his hand and nearly dragged him inside. They kissed for a long time.

"You're sure this is what you want?" They were half-undressed on the bed. "I wouldn't want to take advantage of the situation and give you regrets tomorrow."

"Silly boy," Vera laughed. "Turn off the light."

He was magnificent—tender as a kitten, tireless as a phoenix. They made love everywhere: in her room, at night on the beach, on the yacht, on the mountaintop, even underwater on scuba dives. Every morning Vera looked in the mirror and saw a woman who had never looked better.

Two weeks flew by like a fairy tale. Then came the morning of departure.

They lay in bed after one last stormy night. Eight o'clock; at noon the bus would take her to the airport.

"This isn't really the end, is it, Mathias?" She clutched his shoulder. "What happened between us... it wasn't just nothing, was it?"

Mathias stared at the ceiling and said nothing.

"Why are you quiet?"

"I don't know what to say. I tried to make you happy."

"Tried?!" Her voice cracked. "So that's it? You'll just 'try' the same way for the next woman who books the full package?"

"Why see it like that? It's... not right."

"Not right," she mimicked his accent. "It's over between us and all you can say is 'not right'?!"

"Theoretically anything is possible," he said after a long pause, "but practically... I'm afraid not."

"Practically, theoretically—what does that even mean? Are you married or something?"

"No. I'm not married. I can't be married." When she frowned, he continued. "I'm a KT-5 Escort Guide, manufactured by the Finnish company Matkailu. Still in the testing phase. My price is high—much higher than you could ever afford."

Vera started to cry. Even if she could buy him, where would she take him? And why?

She turned away and stared out at the blinding morning sea.