Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 91820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
I let myself out his villa, the door clicking closed behind me.
“You definitely will.”
Oh, hot mama.
Part of me dreads seeing him because I’m still embarrassed about last night and this morning’s behavior. But I’m also looking forward to seeing him again because, hell, he’s the hottest man alive and the flirty comments are absolutely good for my ego.
I’ll just have to make sure that I look a lot better than I do right now or last night when I was still dressed in my traveling clothes.
Speaking of, I really need to get them off because it’s hot as balls already and it’s early and I’m starting to sweat.
I step onto the jetty and immediately see my villa across from me. I’m tempted to try the front door, but I already know it’s locked. It has an auto-lock that engages as soon as you close the door. I walk over to the edge of the jetty and peer down. It’s not too far. I sit on the edge and take off my Converse. Holding them in one hand, I lower myself into the water.
It’s warm, but it still cools me down.
I’m just wading down the side of my villa when I hear that deep, husky voice that I’ve very quickly become familiar with, and it sends shivers skating up my spine. Along with the embarrassment filling my chest. I seem to feel that particular emotion around him a lot.
“Should I ask why you’re in the lagoon, fully clothed?”
Of course he’d catch me doing something weird right after our little flirty moment. Because, you know, life hates me.
I turn to look at him. The sun beating down has me shading my eyes. He’s wearing shorts but different ones. These look like running shorts, and he has running shoes on his feet. But the chest is still bare. Yay for me.
“Thought I would check and see if I’d left the door to the deck open. Save me going all the way to reception to get a key.”
He nods. “Good idea.”
“I thought so.” I grin, and he smiles back at me.
“Well, I’m going for a run. You want me to stick around while you check the door?”
“Nope, I’m good. But thanks for the offer.”
“Okay. Later then.” He waves a hand and takes off jogging down the jetty.
Yes, I stand there in the water and watch until he disappears from my sight. I wasn’t going to miss out on the chance to watch him running. All those muscles flexing.
I turn back around and wade my way around my villa until I reach the steps. Grabbing the handrail, I hoist myself up and climb the stairs.
Reaching the top, I see the sliding door is wide open. Bingo!
Finally, something has gone right for me. Unless I’ve been robbed, that is.
Not that I have much to steal. I didn’t bring a lot of money, as it’s all-inclusive here, and my iPhone isn’t the latest one. It’s actually a couple of numbers back.
I walk inside, dropping my shoes onto the floor, and see the champagne bottle I emptied last night, discarded on the bed. At least one of us got to sleep on it.
I check my bag and find everything still in there, including my phone, of which the battery is dead and needs charging. Pretty sure I forgot to ring Aunt Jenny—unless that’s one of the things I did remember to do.
I’ll charge it up later. First, shower.
six
Dillon
While I was having my breakfast, consisting solely of carbs and caffeine, Najam—the really sweet receptionist who checked me in yesterday—came over to my table. She’d forgotten to give me my itinerary of activities yesterday, which I’d already booked and paid for long before arriving here. Most of them are the things that the prick wanted to do. There is only one thing on there that I picked out and booked—an island hop, where you get to go and spend the day on a small private island with just the two of you. Not sure I fancy doing that alone. I’d literally shit myself and have visions of being forgotten about and abandoned there, alone for the rest of my life. I have an overactive imagination, okay? That’s what having the mind of a writer is like.
And it appears that I’m snorkeling today. For fuck’s sake. All I wanted to do was eat my breakfast and then lie on a sun lounger and read a book.
I don’t even care about snorkeling. It was the prick who wanted to do it.
“We need to experience everything while we’re there, Dill,” he said.
He forgot to mention that he was also experiencing my mother.
And honestly, I always hated it when he called me Dill. I’m not a bloody herb, for Christ’s sake. Ugh. Total twunting prick. Whom I will not be giving another thought or brain cell to for at least the rest of today.