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The first thing I smelt when I woke up was clean sheets, followed shortly by the smell of cooking. My mouth almost started watering as I remembered suddenly grandma's renowned cooking skills.

I hurriedly got up and shrugged off my clothes, before dashing into the shower. It felt a slice of heaven when the warm water fell all over me, easing the aching I didn't know I had.

I picked up the towel on the side and wrapped it around me. Once patted dry, I shifted through my clothes, which must have been put away last night and pulled out a bikini.

"For fûck sakes, Elise," I muttered to myself as I found the swimwear she'd loaded me with. I'd let her pick some out, sure, but only because I was of the mind that I could use my other ones and wouldn't actually have to wear them. But no, she'd taken those out, too.

Throwing muttered obscenities at her, I yanked it on a little more forcefully than necessary, and went forward to the mirror. It definitely didn't leave much to the imagination, the black material hugging every inch of the non-exposed skin... not that there was an awful lot of that.

Tim's not going to like this, I thought to myself, turning round to see the back. He's not here though, is he? A voice in my head said.

I took one last look at myself in the mirror, before tying up my hair. There was no way I'd be able to tolerate having my hair on my shoulders all day, not in this head anyway.

Walking over to my sliding door, I eased it open and relished in the heat I was hit with. It wasn't even eight o'clock and it was already like this. I moved further out onto the balcony, just about able to see a tall figure cleaning the pool: Nicolás. I knew it was risky staring at him from my window— hello, I could be seen and worse, I had a boyfriend— but I was all for the look, not touch. I dragged my eyes away from him, and looked out onto the villages down the hill from us.

As I'd imagined when I smelt the godly food, grandma was by the stove, moving around whatever was in the pan with a wooden spoon. I caught sight of Rosa, the maid, sitting off to the left.

"Ah," she said when she saw me, immediately lifting herself onto her arthritic knees and coming over to me. She tackled me in a hug, squeezing me tightly. "It's been too long. We've missed you."

"I've missed you, too," I said, a huge smile on my face.

"Now that you're here," she said, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. She pointed behind me. "You can tell her to stop working so hard."

Gran was already turned toward us, leaning against the counter. She held her arms out, so I walked into them. "How have you been, my darling?"

"Not too bad," I told her, adding in that Elise would be coming in a week. "You've got to listen to Rosa, you know, though. The whole point of living in Spain is you're meant to relax."

"Yeah, yeah," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, then looking toward the still spitting pan. "I made your favourite: a full English."

"You really didn't have t—"

"Shush, shush I'm not in my grave yet." I rolled my eyes, good humouredly. "I can't believe how much you've changed, Jules. You look more and more like your father each day." She picked up a piece of my dark brown hair escaping from the confines of the bun and put it over my shoulder. "Absolutely gorgeous."

"You trying to get something out of me?"

She rolled her eyes at me, patting me on the shoulder. "Honestly," she sighed. "Can I not just give you a compliment?"

"Not without wanting something."

Another eye roll. "Why don't you go ask Nicolás if he wants anything to eat?"

"Do I have to?"

"Come on," she said, ushering my to the door. "It's the least you could do after he drove you home and carried you to your room."

"He carried me?" I asked, shocked.

"Darling, I may look like a strapping young man, but I can't pick you up anymore," she said, turning back to the stove to turn it off. "Come on, go ask."

I looked to Rosa for some help, but she just shrugged and with a grin, nodded toward the door. I stuck my lip out at being outnumbered, but traipsed toward the back door.

Nicolás was still fishing things out of the pool by the time I went up to him. The floor was too hot to walk on, so I'd thrown on some flip flops, the sound alerting him he had company.

He turned to me as I approached, leaning his head on his hand holding the pole-looking thing he was using.

"Grandma wants to know if you'd like any breakfast?" I asked, having to force myself to make eye contact. I had to use my hand to shield my eyes from the sun. "There's plenty there, so it really wouldn't be a bother."

He raised an eyebrow, eyes just as intense as they dragged from my face to my body for a moment. "I've got a lot to do," he answered simply.

"Okay," I shrugged. I went to walk away, before remembering. "And thank you," I said, using every fibre in my body to not look down at his bare chest. Jesus Christ, man. "For last night, I mean."

"No problem," he said, simply, before turning back to what he was doing. I paused for a moment, a little affronted by his abrupt end to the conversation. Recomposing myself, I turned on my heel with a roll of my eyes.

"He said no," I told her as I came back in, relishing in the coolness of indoors. She looked back out to him, before turning to me again. I took the plate from her hand, drool threatening to start forming, and went over to the table.

"I've got some errands to run today," she told me over her shoulder. "But they shouldn't take too long. You can sit by the pool or go exploring," she told me. "Just be careful of the roads. They drive like lunatics around here."

I forked a piece of sausage. "Says the woman who's not allowed to drive at night."

She scoffed lightly to herself. "Not legally," she said. I gave her a look. "Alright, I'll give you that. Point proven."

I smirked as I brought my fork to my mouth.

☼ ☼  ☼

I had settled myself on a sun lounger, one beneath a huge umbrella stand. My book was off to one side, along with my phone, covered by my towel in an attempt to keep it cool.

My phone buzzed beside me.

I picked it up, lifting my sunglasses to read the message. 'Sorry for the late reply, babe.' I rolled my eyes at Tim's message. 'Being out in the sun should do you good. I'm sorry I'm so busy, otherwise I might have joined you. Love you and miss you.'

I tossed it aside again.

"Typical," I muttered to myself.

I didn't have the energy in me to text him back, to pretend to be completely understanding and pleasant. Nope.

It must have been a few hours that I was out there, and already my skin was darkening. I'd thank my dad's spanish genes for that.

There weren't any other people around, but then I supposed most people were still at school. It was just me and off to one side in the little restaurant, was Nicolás.

I picked up the sun cream, and began lathering it on every spare inch of skin I could reach. But, I couldn't quite do my back. I groaned.

As luck would have it, Nicolás chose that moment to come out of the small building, and was striding across the patio.

I stood up, debating with myself for several minutes whether I should, and went over to him as he dug around in the supply shed.

I touched his arm. "Could you do me a favour?" He raised a questioning brow, face as stern and unmoving as I'd grown used to. "Can you do my back for me?"

He sighed. I didn't know if that meant he was saying yes or no, until he motioned with his head for me to go on. I went back to where I had been and sat down again, not really knowing if he was following me or not. I'd been tempted to check, but knew if I made eye contact, I'd probably fall right into the pool on account of him making my legs go weak.

I handed him the cream. He took it without a word, out fingers brushing ever so slightly. I ignored the goosebumps that single action provoked along my skin.

The bed dipped a bit as he sat down.

I turned my back to him and waited to feel his hands on my skin. I wondered what grandma would think, what anyone would think for that matter, if they stumbled upon this scene.

I waited, patiently. I heard him uncap the lid and imagined him squirting it on his hands and braced for him touching me.

I withheld a moan when he finally did.

Even his hands were attractive. I didn't even think it was possible— for hands to be able to move in such a way that had me forcing down a shiver. My mind couldn't help wandering to what they'd be like doing... other things.

They moved across my back, kneading the skin, inadvertently helping my stiff joints from the flight here. I could feel his hands go under my bikini strap at the back, and I almost gasped.

They travelled lower, then, down my sides and hips. He followed the curve of my waist, and along the edge of my bikini bottoms. My eyes fluttered closed.

I was sure every single one of the small hairs across my skin would be standing to attention. I prayed he wouldn't notice how much his hands were affecting me.

His hands left my skin, but it was like I could feel the ghost of them trailing across me. My eyes sprung open.

"Thank you," I breathed, twisting to face him again.

He nodded, a small smirk playing on his lips as he looked down. I scrunched my brows in question. Even as he walked away, that smirk still played on his lips.

What had he seen?

I looked down at myself and gasped. I'm sure my cheeks were a brilliant red, in both shame and mortification.

Because there, my nipples stood: erect and very, very visible.

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