In the Name of Love Read Free Page B

sunglasses, tiny denim shorts and gold flip-flops before Zoe had even decided which of her many new bikinis to wear.
    ‘I’ll meet you out there, babes,’ Zoe told her, still in her white towelling robe when Charlie knocked on the door of her suite.
    She quickly agreed, not wanting to waste another moment of her holiday.
    Outside she had to stop herself from bursting into song. Everywhere was just so perfect: the elegant Colonial-style buildings, the gardens with their brightly coloured tropical flowers and palm trees, the irresistible flash of blue ocean she kept glimpsing. All the hotel staff she passed smiled warmly at her and said, ‘Good afternoon, Miss Porter.’
    How on earth did they remember all the guests’ names? she wondered. Was there a list of names next to a photograph of each guest that they had to memorise?
    ‘Call me Charlie,’ she kept telling them, but they just smiled and she was pretty sure they wouldn’t.
    She was just walking past the stunning swimming pool, which even had a bar set at one side, so you could sip cocktails while you were in it, and a miniature waterfall, when her attention was captured by the tall, dark-haired man sprinting towards her. Check him out! she thought, admiring his broad shoulders, muscular physique and very handsome face. He was so focused on running that he failed to notice a waiter carrying a tray of drinks, and knocked straight into him. There was a resounding crash as the tray slipped out of the waiter’s hands and the cocktail glasses shattered on the marble tiles. Charlie was shocked when the handsome man simply muttered ‘Sorry’ to the waiter, who was already apologising profusely, and carried on running towards her. Incensed by such bad manners, Charlie barred his way, hands on her hips.
    He came to an abrupt halt, towering over her. He could have stepped out of a men’s style magazine in his turquoise board shorts as blue as the swimming pool and white shirt, unbuttoned to show off his tanned skin and ripped abs. It was hard not to stare. Very hard.
    ‘Excuse me, señorita.’ He spoke in slightly accented English, and looked Spanish with his dark brown hair, strong chiselled features and high cheekbones. She was aware of his gaze burning into her. He might be male-model gorgeous but he seemed arrogant and that was not a quality to endear him to Charlie.
    ‘Is that it?’
    He looked puzzled. ‘Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about?’
    ‘You barely apologised after charging into that poor guy!’
    He seemed slightly taken aback by the criticism. ‘I’m sorry, I had an important call to take in my suite.’
    ‘Of course you did,’ she said sarcastically.
    Charlie had once worked as a chambermaid and remembered only too well what it felt like being on the receiving end of such dismissive behaviour. There was plenty more she could say on that subject. But instead she took a deep breath. She was on holiday; she would let it go. And so, throwing him her most disdainful
You’re not worth it!
look, she moved out of his way and went over to the waiter who was on his knees, picking up shards of glass with his hands. ‘Here, let me help you,’ she said, kneeling down next to him.
    ‘Oh, no, Miss Porter, please, do not trouble yourself.’
    ‘But you’ve cut your hand!’ She turned round and gave handsome arrogant man a filthy look. He seemed to be in two minds about how to react, then walked over decisively and said to the waiter, ‘I must apologise for bumping into you. I wasn’t looking where I was going.’
    ‘Oh, please, Señor Castillo, it was entirely my fault …’
    Charlie was about to pipe up that of course it bloody wasn’t when another waiter joined them, armed with a dustpan and brush, and set to work sweeping up the fragments of glass.
    ‘I feel that we got off on the wrong foot. May I buy you a drink to show that there are no hard feelings?’ handsome arrogant man asked Charlie. He held out his hand to help her up.