Page 7 of Too Hard to Resist

Shamefully, my type was the guys who knew they had options and weren’t ready to settle down. The men who inevitably stopped messaging me whenever someone prettier or better came along.

Before I applied, I’d done a lot of reflecting and realised that I couldn’t keep going after the same type of man and expect a different result.

What I needed was a man that was older than me. I was thirty-two, so ideally someone in their late thirties or early forties. At that age they would’ve had time to screw around and would be ready to settle down.

I needed a man that was okay-looking. Dating the super-hot guys always ended in tears. The last thing I needed was a bloke who attracted attention and had women queuing up around the block to date him.

And I needed a man who was a decent human being, had a good job (he didn’t have to be rich, just able to pay his own way) and someone who was easy to talk to, who I had a lot in common with.

Although that wisdom lasted long enough for me to fill out the questionnaire, unfortunately, by the time I’d given up hope of getting the place at the hotel and logged back on to the dating apps, it’d evaporated and I’d ended up falling back into the same habits. Hence my last disastrous date with Rude Ronald. But I didn’t have to worry about that any more.

The Love Hotel matchmakers had chosen my soulmate for me so there’d be no more bad decisions.

My stomach bubbled with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

The sound of my phone vibrating came from my bag. When I tapped the screen, I saw it was a message from Stella asking if I’d arrived yet. Instead of replying, I hit the call button. Speaking to her would help calm my nerves.

‘Hi!’ She answered on the first ring. ‘You there yet?’

‘Almost. The driver, sorry, my chauffeur,’ I added in a posh voice, ‘said we should be there soon, so naturally I’m shitting bricks.’

‘It’s normal to be nervous, but don’t worry. These people are the matchmaking experts. I bet they have someone amazing lined up for you.’

‘Does Jasmine know who I’ve been matched with?’

‘No. If you were going to the Spanish resort, then yeah, she would, but she doesn’t get to see matches in their other locations.’

‘Don’t they have some kind of centralised database she can hack into or something to give me a heads up? Not that I want her to risk her job or anything, but the suspense is killing me. I just want to meet him already!’

‘Sammie, you’ve waited most of your whole adult life to find your soulmate, so waiting another hour or whenever you two will be introduced today isn’t going to make a difference.’

‘You’re right.’ I blew out a breath.

‘I know it’s easier said than done, but try to relax. You’re in good hands.’

‘Okay. I’ll let you know how it goes.’

‘Good luck.’

Just as Stella ended the call, the chauffeur turned into the resort’s driveway.

Wowsers.

My jaw dropped.

I’d looked up the Italian Love Hotel online hundreds of times, but as slick as the website was, it didn’t compare to being here in person.

The large white stone building was surrounded by lush manicured gardens, plus a pretty mixture of olive, palm and fruit trees. I even spotted a glimpse of the sea in the distance.

As the chauffeur opened the door and I stepped outside, I noticed the shift in temperature straightaway. The car was beautifully air conditioned, but now I felt the warm Italian sunshine heating my skin.

The scent of lemon trees mixed with the salty sea air surrounded me and I inhaled deeply. This definitely beat the eau de pollution and car fumes stench I was used to smelling in London.

And, blimey, look at the sky! It was so blue anyone would think it was painted.

Just as I was taking in the breathtaking views my eyes popped. And this time it wasn’t because I was still in awe of the hotel’s amazing exterior.

It was because of the tall, dark and ridiculously handsome god that was walking towards me.

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