A gentle tap on my door wakes me around 8am and as the sun filters through the cracks in the blind, it takes me a moment to remember where I am. Then it hits me and I stretch out with contentment as I remember – I’m in paradise.
The tap gets louder and I drag myself from the warm, cosy bed and head to the door. I open it a crack and see a uniformed waiter standing beside a trolley, and he nods respectfully. “Room service.”
“But I didn’t order this.”
I stare at him in surprise and he smiles. “Compliments of the hotel, madam. Breakfast on your balcony.”
“Wow, thank you.” I open the door a little wider and as he wheels the trolley inside, I actually pinch myself. Surely, I’m still dreaming because things like this don’t happen to an ordinary girl like me.
As the waiter sets up the breakfast trolley on the balcony, I watch him arranging the silver dishes filled with hot scrambled eggs and bacon. Fresh fruit and natural yoghurt nestle beside a bread basket of pastries still warm from the oven. Freshly squeezed juice of every variety in little glass jugs sit beside crystal glasses and a selection of conserves look tempting accessed by way of a small silver spoon in every pot.
He finishes up and nods respectfully. “Tea and coffee are on the lower shelf with your choice of cream or milk. Please call if there are any special requirements, such as an omelette or pancakes. The smoked salmon is also a favourite, so please make sure to call if you prefer that.”
“Thank you so much.” Quickly, I grab my purse and remove a few notes and yet as I offer him the tip, he shakes his head. “No need, madam, your stay here is complimentary and that included any tips.”
“But…”
“Good day, madam. The maid will sort out your trolley when she makes up your room later. If you need it collecting beforehand, please call 505.”
He turns to leave and I stare after him in surprise. This is unimaginable luxury. Breakfast on the balcony. I don’t even have to get dressed and can just relax and read my kindle while I enjoy the ultimate in relaxation.
As I approach the trolley, I see an envelope propped up in the middle. My heart beats a little faster for some reason as I draw out a thick cream card and note the spidery handwriting.
Good morning Emma, I would be honoured to show you around the resort today. I will call for you at 10.30am.
Ben X
Wow, a date with the owner. This is above the five-star rating. It’s like being invited to dinner with the Captain on a cruise ship. My own personal guided tour with the man in charge.
As I help myself to breakfast, I think about the man I met last night. Ordinarily, I don’t go for men with beards or glasses, but there was something about that man that felt safe. He was a little intense, but in a good way. I didn’t miss the way he stared at me – hard, for most of the hour I spent in his company. His dark hair and immaculate clothes impressed me, as did his apartment that was even more luxurious than this president’s suite. He listened to every word I said as if he needed to know so badly every thought in my head. It was quite an intense experience, and it was only when I reached my room, that the daze I was in left me.
Just thinking of seeing him again brings with it an excitement that is making my stay here even more intoxicating and as I settle down to eat, my kindle is forgotten as I stare out to sea and wonder how I got so lucky.
* * *
10.30 brings a knock to my door that makes me jump and sends a shiver down my spine.
He’s here.
Smoothing down my simple sundress and fixing my sunglasses firmly on top of my head, I grab my bag.
I open the door and catch my breath because he is standing waiting, looking so incredibly gorgeous in a white t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts. He is wearing leather flip flops and I note an expensive Rolex on his wrist and am pleased to see there is no wedding ring.
His eyes rake my body appreciatively and he holds out his hand.
“You look lovely, Emma, come, there’s a lot to see.”
Why I grasp his hand so readily is a surprise to me because surely that’s a little presumptuous, and as his hand closes around mine, I feel a shiver of expectation. He’s interested in me, Emma Stone, single and desperate to mingle and what a catch to land.
We head towards the lift and he says in a deep voice, “I trust you enjoyed your breakfast.”
“It was lovely, thank you.”
“I thought you would prefer to eat in your room because I’m guessing it’s not much fun eating alone.”
“You are so thoughtful.”
He nods, and it strikes me how serious he is. “I like to take care of my guests.”
“Well, you’ve certainly done that. Is this service going to be standard because I’ve never known anything like it?”
He shakes his head. “A scaled-down version, but I pride myself on excellence, I always have.”
We step into the lift and for some reason it feels more intimate in here, probably because he is standing so close to me, his fingers holding onto mine tightly. He looks at me and just stares and if anything, I feel a little uncomfortable and say quickly, “From your accent you’re British, how did you end up here?”
“I didn’t.”
He smiles. “My business is in London; this is just one of my investments. I have several others that require my time, but for obvious reasons I needed to be here this week.”
Thinking about the launch, I nod. “Yes, I suppose it’s a very exciting time for you.”
“It is – very.”
Part of me wonders if he’s referring to his business or something else because his voice has an edge to it that tells me something more is going on in his mind.
The lift arrives and we step outside into the brightly lit reception and he pulls me along by his side at a rapid pace.
For most of the morning, he shows me paradise. From the sumptuous pool that I visited yesterday, to the gym, spa and tennis courts. There are two more pools and several hot tubs, not to mention the beautiful white beach that appears to stretch for miles with no other building in sight.
He leads me down a wooden jetty towards a beautiful motor cruiser where a man in uniform is waiting.
“Good morning, sir.”
The man nods and Ben stops and says gently, “Allow me to show you the rest of the Island.”
“On here?”
He laughs at my expression. “Yes, The Lotus is my pride and joy and has every luxury I could cram into the space. So, what do you think, it’s a beautiful day to explore?”
I don’t need asking twice and follow him on board and take a brightly coloured cocktail that another steward hands me from a silver tray.
Ben slips his arm around my waist and guides me to the front of the boat and as the engines start, we sip our drinks, looking out on a beautiful turquoise sea.