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Thomas has it all: nobility, money, the girl, and a position waiting for him at the family business. But when he thinks about the life ahead of him, he can't breathe. So he takes a gap year backpacking.
Nadia...
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Miraflores district, Lima, Peru.
Nadia kicked the front door of the Bienvenido a Casa hostel closed with her heel. It slammed shut behind her.
"Whoops, sorry!" she called out, certain Jacqui would be rolling her eyes.
The heavy plastic bags dug into the crease between her palms and fingers. On a sigh, she lowered them to the ground and poked her head into the living room, hoping to find Khai there. No such luck.
He'd promised to meet her at the supermercado half an hour earlier but never materialised.
A small part of her worried about him, the rest wanted to scream. This behaviour had become typical. It hurt. Particularly because Khai had caught a raven-haired shadow who repeatedly popped up with a 'Surprise!'
Surprise, my arse.
Why couldn't they have some time alone? Go out for a romantic meal, just the two of them — at a proper restaurant. Fork out for a private room once in a while.
She got it, meeting people and developing friendships was important when travelling, and they weren't rich. The typical street food wasn't high in nutrients either. More like a recipe for constipation or, dependent upon the hygiene of the establishment, the polar opposite.
She peered down into the bag containing a six-pack of Cusqueña cerveza. One thing Khai didn't skimp on was booze. More accurately, she didn't. Once again, she found herself hoping he came through on his promise when her money ran out. A whisper of unease settled upon her, but she shook it off and made for the kitchen.
"Buenas noches, Jacqui," she said as she passed the alcove.
"Humph, gringos."
Definitely an eye roll there.
She turned to the kitchen entryway and stopped in her tracks as a pile of precariously stacked dishes fell in a riot of metal, clattering across the clay tiles. Pots, pans and cutlery skidded in all directions. A silver bowl spun like a whirling dervish, faster and faster until it peaked, lost momentum, and resumed a state of inertia in a dramatic wobble.
A man stood in the epicentre of the chaos, eyes wide, mouth gaping. He glanced up, and as he registered her presence, his expression upgraded to mortification.
For a moment, the brightness of his blue eyes struck her. Then she took in the rest of him: tall and slender with broad shoulders, dressed in tanned chinos and a buttoned-down white shirt, his dark-blonde hair tousled. The man from this morning. He was hot. Bloody hot.
They stared at each other until the weight in her hands became too much. She blinked and shook the treacherous thought out of her head. It's not cool to perve on other men, Nadia.
