Page 28 of What Happens in Paradise

A kaftan wouldn’t have been practical, though. I just had to go as I was.

I looked in the mirror and attempted to tell myself that I looked beautiful, but felt like an idiot. I was confident at work, yes, because I knew I was good at it. But I’d never considered myself to bebeautiful.

Clearly, when it came to my appearance, I didn’t have the same level of confidence that Alejandro had.

It was easier for him though because I was sure there wasn’t a person on the planet who wouldn’t agree that he was incredibly good-looking. At first, when he’d asked me whether I thought he wasn’t beautiful, I’d hesitated to reply. But then I realised that to deny how handsome he was would’ve been more suspicious.

Saying that he was a very attractive man was an understatement. The man was hotter than a bucket of spicy jerk chicken sauce.

Andthatwas a fact.

Anyway, I didn’t have time to think about how gorgeous he was. I had work to do.

After picking up my bag, I headed outside.

Bloody hell.

My jaw fell open.

I knew I should at least attempt to drag it up off the floor, but it was difficult, because stood just a few metres away was Alejandro.

Sorry. Let me rephrase. It wasn’tjust Alejandro.

It was atoplessAlejandro.

God. Help. Me.

I was aware that I’d just said I shouldn’t be thinking about how hot he was, but come on.

When he looked likethat, how could I not?

I’d only ever seen him in a chef’s jacket or T-shirt. Sometimes a vest. But never, I repeatnever, with his bare chest on show.

Andwow.

His body was so defined, it looked like it’d been carved by angels.

His golden olive skin glowed.

Then there were his broad shoulders.

His toned pecs.

His muscular biceps.

Oh, and his six-pack.

I swallowed hard.

None of the men I’d ever dated had a body like that.

My ex was nine years older than me, so when we met, he already had the makings of a dad-bod. And I didn’t mind. I loved him for him.

As far as I was concerned, muscular, sculpted bodies were what models and film stars like The Rock, Michael B. Jordan and the Hemsworth brothers had. Not people in ‘real life’.

But turned out I was wrong, because Alejandro could give all of those men a run for their money.

‘H-hi,’ I stuttered. ‘You ready to go?’

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