Pleasure Island. Lorie O'Clare

grew up deathly allergic and deprived of enjoying man’s best friend for most of my life. Even without my human companions, these better-than-perfect dogs would be a gold mine on the market. But part of moving here and working here was agreeing to keep all of my work a secret. Paradise Island wouldn’t be the same if the guests knew they were having sex with machines.

      My smile faded when Jonah scowled. “How long are you taking him for?” he asked.

      I glanced at Lord who sat in the passenger seat, panting and looking like he was grinning from ear to ear.

      “Oh.” I should have guessed Jonah wouldn’t go for parting with his roommate. Ever since I gave Lord and Pluto to Jonah, the three of them were nearly inseparable, even when Rose insisted Jonah not take his dogs with him when he worked in the gardens. Pluto was better at lying still and unnoticed, but Lord tended to be a bit friendlier when he saw a new face to greet. “Well.” I scratched my head and realized my hair was still a mess of tangles. “Let me see if there is a supply kit inside. Maybe I can get him fixed up right here.”

      Jonah let out a low sharp whistle and Lord bounded out of the golf cart and to his master’s side. The old man patted his head and grinned at me as his phone rang. “Check the lockers in the supply closet,” he told me and pulled his phone from his belt.

      Leaving the three of them, I headed into the mansion from the back service entrance. A handful of cooks worked in the kitchen, and the sweet and sour smells of a tangy sauce filled the air and my stomach grumbled eagerly. Maybe before I left I could raid the kitchen even though Maggie might take offense if I declined her food after snacking here at the mansion. However, it would be good to know that the companions I created, and then drilled in special classes to fine-tune their culinary skills, were doing their job right.

      I paused when I entered the grand foyer behind the wide, winding staircase. I was always taken aback when I entered this lavish mansion. Rose spared no expense in having the place built. Although I knew half of everything on the island belonged to me, I still felt I was intruding in someone else’s home when I stepped foot inside this place. I was out of my element and didn’t want to change to make this my element. The place reeked of wealth and pretentious behavior. Granted, it was a place for fantasies, but not my kind of fantasies.

      For some reason, I stopped and backed up against the wall when three people walked down the stairs. It was Natalie and she had Tomas and Nicolas with her. Her hair was down, and damp, and the sundress she wore clung to her voluptous figure. She wasn’t smiling, but not scowling either. Instead, she appeared lost in thought as she focused on the steps in front of her. Tomas and Nicolas talked quietly to each other. Damn. She was sexy as fucking hell; much prettier in person than on a monitor screen. Her hair curled at the end and parted over her practically bare shoulders. She wasn’t tan, but not pale as a ghost either. Nor was she one of those starved, toothpick looking kind of women. Although far from fat, her slender figure appeared to be perfect. Shapely hips and small, perky breasts helped create curves that her dress hugged, creating an enticing picture. I continued gawking when she reached the bottom of the stairs, which would be damned hard to explain if she caught me doing it. And I had plenty of work to do. I didn’t have time to stand in the shadows and hope to watch how her ass swayed in that dress when she walked away from me.

      She wasn’t runway-model material but I never did like women who were nothing more than skin and bone. I’d designed some of my companions like that, intentionally making them almost gaunt since some men liked that. Skinny with big boobs—like any woman came that way without surgery. That didn’t describe the woman I watched across the hallway. She had curves, and damn nice ones at that. And her breasts weren’t so large that they’d sag by the time she was forty. She was perfect, my definition of exactly how a lady should be.

      Miss Green and my guys reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to enter the dining room. I blew out a breath of exasperation and stalked toward the lockers. It probably wouldn’t do me any harm to find a real woman sometime in the near future. Maybe take a day and fly over to Hawaii. I needed to get laid.