Chapter Three

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.

I step inside my room, it is stunning. It's a suite which I got at a discounted rate as I negotiated the price down telling them they would be featuring in my travel vlog and on my YouTube channel and pretty much everywhere else. Since I told them I have nearly half a million followers they were quite happy to provide a suite at the double room pricing. 

In front of me is the king size bed with crisp white sheets and the hugest pillows you can imagine. It looks so inviting. It stands centre point of the wall in front of me that is covered in a gold wallpaper with swirls of gold decorating it and doves. It is magical and soothing on the eye. To the right are balcony floor to ceiling doors that are currently open, I can feel a faint breeze coming through. Excited I drop my rucksack on the floor, slip out of my trusty Nike trainers and enjoy the coolness of the tiles beneath my feet. I make my way to the balcony, it has gorgeous iron work that is bowed with large flowers decorating it. There is a lemon tree to the left and an orange tree to the right. I can smell the fragrance. 

My view is stunning. I can see the old tiled roof tops of the village below me and in the distance the mountains. I inhale. This is heavenly. I adore mountains, I love to walk the trails and hike. Mike and I used to go rock climbing together. I suddenly feel a pang of sadness knowing that I won't be going climbing anytime soon. Nor will I be seeing him again, ever. Not unless we bump into each other back home in Chicago. I'm not sure that I want to hence this trip which wasn't planned since I had a wedding I was supposed to be taking care of. I sigh and focus on the mountains and the sounds beneath me. 

There is a courtyard with a fountain in the middle. People are sitting at café tables each one a different colour. It looks so bright and cheerful and I think I will go down and have a coffee soon. I could hit the pillows and fall asleep, only I know that isn't the best thing to do. 

I grab my camera that is still slung over my chest and begin to take pictures of the people laughing and talking animatedly. I adjust it slightly to take in the mountains that reign the landscape with a majestic presence. 

When I'm done I flop myself down on the bed and prop myself up with two of the large pillows. It is time to call my mum. We have a wonderful relationship and to me, she is the best mother in the world. She's never stood in the way of my dreams nor has she balked ever when I told her I didn't want to go to college and that I wanted to pursue my dreams to travel. She encouraged me. The only thing that was ever a sticking point was Mark.

Mum has or had nothing against Mark but what caused her concern was the fact that at just eighteen we had fallen so hard for each other. My mother wanted me to experience the world before I settled down not be tied to anyone. I wish I had of listened. I'd have saved myself an awful lot of heartache and tears. But you know what it's like when you're young and in love with someone. Everything is exciting.

At first Mark had been supportive of my travelling, he often came with me and we've had some fantastic holidays in places as far as Bali, Indonesia, India and Amman. We talked, held hands and made love until the early hours of the morning until we were both sore and raw. Mark went to college and studied finance and had his first offer during his last year. It was too good to refuse and he accepted the job with Fornes & Co. Then our travelling together took a nose dive. No longer could Mark accompany me on so many trips. He only had twenty days holiday a year and by the time they came round, well suffice to say he was pretty much too exhausted to enjoy them. The company kept him busy and towards the end of our relationship it was not unusual for him to be working twelve hour days and bringing work home on top. Naturally our sex life took a steep nose dive too. But I loved Mark with all my heart. He was my childhood sweetheart and I wanted to be able to support him and stand by him. Yet I wasn't going to give up my dream either. Perhaps I didn't compromise enough or perhaps he wasn't willing to give enough.

When he proposed it was the most natural thing in the world to say yes and that was when the issues started. The, "why are you travelling again?" conversations would launch themselves from his lips. I cut back on international travel and concentrated on closer-to-home travel. Now as I lay here looking up at the rustic terracotta tiled ceiling, I realise it wasn't just me. He wanted somebody it turned out that was going to be on his arm at the drop of a hat, to accompany him to work events, dinners and the like. He wanted somebody to be at home when he came through the door from a long day. That's not me, I can't be that homebody person, no matter how much I knew he wanted me to be. I sigh and hit the phone icon for mom's number. Even though it is early in Chicago I know my mom. She will be waiting for me to call so I don't hesitate to ring her.

Her voice sounds relieved when she hears me say. "Hi Mom. I'm safe and in my suite."

"I am so relieved honey. I miss you already. How is the room? How was the flight?" I smile as she asks me the questions. 

"The flight was uneventful you know a bit long, such a drag. I hate flying for so long but I love it when I get to the destination." I say. "The room is a suite, it's amazing. I have a balcony with mountain views and a terrace below. It's beautiful mom, so beautiful. I'm pleased I came and stopped moping around back home."

"Good. It's what you needed. There was no point moping around. It wasn't going to change anything sweetheart. Mark has made his mind up and unfortunately he wants a different life now. I guess that is what happens when you start to move up the ladder in a corporate organization." I nod. She's right he did change and want a different life. Not the life I wanted. I am not done with wanderlust not yet. Or maybe, I muse, I haven't met the right man that I'm willing to give it all up for. I express this to my mother.

"You may be right honey." She says. "It could be that you both grew up and grew apart. It happens."

"It didn't happen to you and dad mom."

"No, but then we're different people darling. I never wanted to travel the world like you do. Sure we enjoy our holidays and travelling but I was happy to settle down, have you and be a home maker. I like my part-time job at the library and I will be there until I retire." My mother is the prime example of the good housewife. She took a job in her early twenties with our town's local library and has been there ever since. Mom ought to receive an award for longest serving employee. She gets immense satisfaction from being surrounded by books and readers all day long. I mean I love to read but not quite like my mom. She can devour a book a night. Dad is always poking fun at her. Asking her what romance dribble-drabble she's reading now. Her favourite genre being romance, especially anything involving billionaires that can take her jet setting away without ever having to leave the comfort of her favourite armchair in our cosy lounge back home. I smile. Mom makes me smile. 

"I suppose you're right mom." I let out a sigh and calculate that it can only be around five in the morning back home. "Listen mom. Why don't I catch up with you tomorrow at a more sensible time for yourself. I want to unpack my rucksack and go out for a coffee and start to investigate. I'm sure I will be asleep early."

"Okay sweetheart. Be safe and don't talk to strange men." I don't think I will tell her about grumpy pants downstairs with his wonderfully sexy arms. I stop myself from thinking about him any further. He annoyed me with his arrogance and crossed arms in front of his toned chest. We hang up. I reach for my charger from the rucksack still on the floor by the bed and plug it in. Thankfully I remembered my European charger and don't have to go out to buy one like I did when I travelled to Paris last year. So frustrating.