Tropical Pleasure
Um þessa rafbók
Collecting her bag, Charlotte followed the signs. A slightly bored looking man was waiting to take the tourists to the resort and she glanced at her fellow passengers as they boarded.
There were some couples, one family, and at least one gorgeous specimen of a man who gave her a wink when he caught her looking. Charlotte blushed and bit her lip, looking away.
He moved up to sit beside her. “I’m Paul,” he said, offering his hand, just a hint of an accent only adding to the appeal.
“Charlotte,” she said politely, shaking and noticing he had a firm grip. He was even better looking close up, dark hair and blue eyes, a body already tanned and strong.
“First time here?” he asked.
“Yes. Just time for a vacation. So halfway across the world sounded good,” she smiled at him.
“American, yes? Well I think you’ll like it. I come here every year.”
Charlotte started to ask where he was from, but the bus turned a corner and her gaze fell on the resort and the white beach and crystal blue water. It was simply gorgeous and she found herself...
