Chapter Two

AVA

I am so hot I begin to fan myself with my left hand. He is walking towards me, I feel like a melting pot. My insides begin to churn. Am I so fickle? I mean I've only just broken up with Mark. Or rather he broke up with me. The receptionist is saying something to me, but I am still looking at him. He's more gorgeous than a man ought to be. I lick my lips, then want to bite my tongue off. Come on Ava. He's going to see you're salivating over his sexy body. Get a grip girl!

I turn to the beautiful woman sitting behind the mahogany reception desk. Her hair is jet black and tied up in a messy bun on top of her head. Her lips are a smacking red colour and I have to stop myself from asking what brand it is. Not that I wear much lipstick. In fact I hardly wear any make-up. The most I do is dust bronzer over my cheekbones and apply a lick of mascara. Usually when I am on my own travelling, I don't even bother with that. I'm on my journeys to take pictures and write my blog, to experience the places I visit and enjoy my surroundings. I'm not the least bit bothered about my looks. Mark used to say I was beautiful and he isn't one for lying. I guess I have to take his word for it. I'm not vain so all that gunk all over my face just makes me shudder. When I did try eyeshadow and followed a YouTube video, I ended up looking like Barbara Cartland on a bad day.

"Can I have your name please?" The woman behind the reception desk asks me, this time I pay attention. Her voice was a bit louder. I drop my rucksack to the floor and cast my eyes in the direction of Him. I could run my hands all over that body of his and lick his lips and feel what his tongue would feel like parting my own lips. I feel myself rush in my lower regions. Oh. My. God. He's a complete stranger. Maybe it's because I've had a sex drought for the last six weeks.

"Please madam." The receptionist asserts herself. I get myself together and steal my eyes away from the Adonis in front of me.

"Sorry, I erm. My name is Ava." I pause as I take my passport out of my rucksack top zipper section. "Ava Gardner." I want to say this quietly because, well we've already covered this bit. I am so embarrassed about my name. Why couldn't I just be an Ava Jones or an Ava Smith?

She smiles a perfect smile revealing crisp white teeth. Everything about her is immaculate. Her skin is flawless, it's the colour of roasted almonds. Her cheekbones are to die for and her eyes, well I can see a woman crush coming on. Her nails click away on the keypad, I notice that they match the colour of her lipstick. Wow. I wish I could be that bothered because you know what? She does look ultra glamorous. All of a sudden I feel like a tramp standing here in my old faithful t-shirt that is so worn you can practically see through it. Another reason I wish I'd bothered to wear a bra, but you know those damn things just make me feel so restricted. My jeans have seen better days too, but they're comfortable and perfect for travelling.

"You are in room 130." She says and hands me the passport back. "Here is your key. I will have Xavier come and take your luggage up."

"I only have a rucksack. No need for assistance, but thank you." I say and slip the passport back into the top part of my rucksack.

"Very well Madam, as you wish. The lift is just over there to your right. You will find everything you need in your room. If you require anything you can use the room telephone and press 0. Room service is 24/7."

"What about breakfast, what time is that served?" I ask her and feel something warm on my neck. It sends a shiver down my spine. There is someone standing very closely behind me. I turn without hesitating. "Do you mind, you're in my personal space. Step back a bit would you." I demand. If there's one thing I really hate, it's someone being up close and personal in my space. Well unless it's sex of course then that's a whole different matter.

As I turn I want the ground to open up and sink down into it. Standing right in front of me so close that I can feel the heat pouring from his hot body, is Him. I want to die there and then. There is something about his proximity that has caused a stronger sensation in my lower abdomen, my heart has quickened and now it's racing like a thoroughbred horse from the starting line. Am I panting? I will myself not to touch him or to run my hands up and down his toned arms with those sexy tattoos. My fingers want to trace their outline. Yes I am almost panting. I feel myself getting moist. This is absolutely insane. My body is on fire. I don't even know this man.

"Excuse me?" He says pointedly. His voice is soft like silk, and his Spanish accent is to die for. His lips have moved and all I can do is stare at their fullness. Now I definitely want to press mine against his. I want to feel his tongue collide with mine. I think there is something seriously wrong with me. I've only just recently split up with Mark. He was the love of my life. The man I was engaged to. The man I was supposed to be marrying and having children with and to live in domestic bliss with. Damn it. This is so out of the blue and I am really fighting to hold myself back. This is some kind of weird i***a-attraction that you only read about in a Lucy Score book.

"You're in my space." I say, my voice heated because I am both annoyed with myself for being this turned on at his presence, and annoyed that he is so super good looking. Not to mention that I am hot and flustered about both.

He raises his perfect dark eyebrows. His eyes, now that I am much closer, I can see are bewitching. They are amber with dark stripes in them. Wow. I have never seen eyes like this before. I could fall into them.

"I am not in your space." He folds his arms across his broad chest and I see how the muscles in his forearms flex. Right well then he obviously isn't going to budge. Stubborn idiot. I could seriously go off people very quickly.

"Breakfast madam is served in our main restaurant between seven thirty and nine thirty." The receptionist's voice brings me back from my thoughts. I nod and mutter thank you. Take the room key from her and begin to walk away. Not before I hear her giggle. I bet she is flirting with Him. I feel a rush of jealousy. Why am I even feeling like this? He isn't mine. I don't know him. And now with his conceited and arrogant attitude, I don't want to know him. So he has a hot body and is probably hung like a donkey, who cares?

The lift opens and thankfully there is nobody else waiting to get in it with me. I close my ears off to the sound of his dulcet tones as he chats lightheartedly with the receptionist. I don't want to hear his voice. I don't want to think how the sound of him made me feel. My phone buzzes. I take it out of my back pocket and check the screen. It's my mom. I make a mental note to call her when I get to the room and have dumped my rucksack, which now suddenly feels heavy on my shoulders. Travelling can be wildly exciting but it can also be extremely draining.

All I want to do is throw myself on a bed, close my eyes and drift off to sleep.