Natalie wasn't the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, but she was a freakishly talented masseuse. Her massages could reduce the most tightly wound person to an almost coma-like state of relaxation. Which is where I was right now. Flat on my back, lying naked on a massage table. Natalie's strong yet supple hands kneaded the last iota of tension out of my head and neck.
Natalie whispered in my right ear, almost apologetically, "All done. Time to get up. Easy, though. Don't move too fast."
