Abandoned by Him: Claimed by His Billionaire Uncle

Ava

It's hot, hotter than I imagined as I step off the aircraft. It's been a really long flight from my home town of Chicago. I'm tired, grumpy and very hungry. On top of that I am nursing a broken heart. 

That's right. Well maybe it isn't that broken because I am angry about the whole thing. My fiancé Mark decided that since I spend most of my time travelling the globe, we aren't really that suited to be married. He called it off. Just twelve weeks before the wedding day.  I've cried, had a pity party for the last ten days which nobody could shirk me out of. Not even my bestie Zoe. Until I decided enough was enough and booked my ticket one way to Sante Fe, Spain. If anything can pull me out of my slump it will be this. I hope.

Mark and I were together for five years, I met him when I was eighteen in a coffee shop downtown in Chicago. I was taken with his shaggy blonde hair and aqua marine eyes. I thought personally we had it all. It turned out that what Mark wanted was  a stay-at-home wifey. Did he honestly think I was going to give up my passion and being a travel blogger? 

My stomach rumbles. I haven't eaten anything onboard. I couldn't face eating on the plane, all those germs flying around. I tried to sleep as best I could but you know what it's like when you are stuck like a sardine in a can. That's right, I didn't fly first class, premium or anything else as glorified.

I'm a travel blogger and my budget doesn't stretch to first class and champagne. I mean I make a decent enough living but I still have to travel on a shoe string budget. It's been a long day and all I want is to hit my head on a nice fluffy pillow at the hotel I have booked into. 

My unruly brown hair has come out of its band, I tie it back up into a high pony tail, my preferred way to wear it and off my face. The heat is scorching. It would be in the middle of June in Spain. At a guess, I'd say it is at least thirty-seven degrees Celsius. The Dixie Chicks t-shirt I'm wearing is sticking to me already and I wished I'd bothered to wear a bra, because now you can clearly see the outline of my breasts. I sigh. Nobody cares. Except me. I care.

In the passport que I take out my mobile, take it off airplane mode and see that I've got a dozen messages from my bestie Zoe and a couple from my mother. All wanting to know if I have landed safely and what is the weather like. I don't respond just yet. I want to get through the checks and out the other side. I have afforded myself one luxury of hiring a driver and car organized directly by the hotel. 

A short man with dark hair is holding a plague with my name on it. Ava Gardner. And yes in answer to your question, my mother does have a warped sense of humor. That and she loves the old time starlet Ava Gardner. Since our surname is Gardner, mum decided to call me after her all time favourite actress. The amount of times I get asked, "oh are you named after.....," drives me insane. I swear one day I may just change it or go by my middle name, Lavinia.

My driver takes my heavy rucksack. I travel light, only ever my faithful rucksack and of course my precious Canon R6 camera. It's slung over my shoulder now and I itch to start taking photos straight away. "Welcome to Grenada señorita." He says. I smile.

"Gracias." He lowers my rucksack into the boot and opens the rear door for me. I instantly feel the cool air from the internal a.c. hitting my skin as he turns the engine on. It feels like a cool breeze across my bare arms and instantly I feel a little cooler.

As he drives I take in the many variety of trees lining the road, the small rustic fincas and land that seems to stretch on for miles. I have never been to this part of Spain before and I'm quite excited to start exploring. I decided on Santa Fe by because Zoe had come out here last year with her family for a holiday. She told me how beautiful it was and during my broken heart slump, it was her who recommended I come here. I think I'm going to like it. 

We arrive at the hotel within thirty minutes and I get out of the car and stretch my legs. As much as I want to sleep I now also want to meander around this beautiful city. The hotel is beautiful. A rambling Masia (old rustic Spanish mansion) built out of stone with gaily painted Catalonian blue shutters at the windows. The large arched entrance is decorated with deep purple roses that follow the arch. It is more beautiful than the internet pictures or that I could have imagined. 

My driver takes my rucksack out of my case and walks with me inside. It is formidable as I lean my head back to take in the high ceiling. A large ornate chandelier hangs down giving off a balmy orange glow. It's like inside sunshine. I spot the olive wood paneled reception area on my left and begin to make my way across the large flag stoned floor. 

There is a Japanese couple in front of me. They're young and clearly in love as they kiss each other fleetingly. This sends my stomach into a lurch and my heart pangs as I think momentarily back to Mark. Damnit. Why can't I get over him. It's going to take time. I know that but I am also a very impatient young woman. 

The receptionist, a beautiful dark haired woman with exotic eyes and red painted lips greets them. The couple manage to disengage themselves and begin to giggle. It makes me smile and warms my heart. Just because I don't have a special someone anymore, doesn't mean I can't be happy for them. 

I look around whilst I wait. And then I see him. He has to be the most gorgeous and arresting man I have ever seen. Something weird happens to my insides and a fire begins to pulse from my stomach to my throat. Oh my gosh, am I actually having heart palpitations? I want to avert my eyes. I can't. He is tall, I'd say easily six foot tall with dark shaggy hair, tousled on top and shaven around the sides and I daresay the back too from the look of it. His eyes are hazel and gold. They remind me of the coat of a tiger. My mouth has gone dry. I glance away hoping he hasn't noticed me staring at him. Okay I can't help it. I have to take another look. I mean I may never see him again and I know that I'm still getting over my relationship break down, but really. I can't resist. It's not just his looks but his body. He is wearing a white vest t-shirt, his skin is golden and he has the sexiest black tattoos running up and down his arms. Oh. My. God. I'm in man porn heaven. Seriously. I am going to melt.

He glances up clearly having the feeling that somebody is watching him. The couple move away from the reception and gently nudge me as they pass. They apologize. I smile. It's not a problem and then step to the desk so I can be checked in. I have to fight with myself not to steal another look. My heart is racing. I mean seriously racing. It needs to slow down or it's going to explode out of my chest.