I'm not bad to look at, have a pretty good figure, even if I say so myself. Although, my long, golden-blonde hair has a really annoying habit of curling way too tight in humidity. Hazel eyes and a round face with a nose that's a bit too large and was a constant teasing point at school.

Luckily, Jack appears to like what he sees.
"Ah, sorry, hello there."

He has a mixture of Scottish and mediterranean inflections to his voice, creating a strange, lyrical tilt. I don't think it's only the smell of food that's making me dizzy and my palms are sweating under his piercing gaze.

God, those eyes.

"Hi." I splutter. "Could I get a half of lager and lime and order some food, please?"

I give him my best smile then search in my coat pockets for cigarettes. A steady beat of blood is banging away at my temples. Thankfully, Jack stands back and grabs a notepad.

"Sure, we've got a fresh lobster pie finishing off, if you fancy that?"

"That's perfect. Thanks."

As I light my cigarette and he pulls the pump for my lager, Jack frowns at me. "Do you have to do that, Gorgeous?"

I'm embarrassed by his familiarity. "Sorry, am I not allowed to, in here?"

"Yes, but it'll spoil your dinner. Not to mention I won't be able to kiss you after. I can't stand the taste of ciggies."

I snap my head backwards, my eyebrows raised.
"Really! And what makes you think that I want you to kiss me?"

"Ah, come on, you're on holiday right? Live a little."

He places my drink down sloppily and it spills some of its contents onto my sleeve. I take a closer look at his face, gauging the sincerity hiding behind his words and outwardly flippant attitude. A flicker of something like honesty sparks in the brilliant blues of his eyes. I have the idea that this man is fishing for more than a holiday fling. Or maybe it's wishful thinking. Either way, I decide to give it a go, as he said, it's about time I lived a little. So I catch his eye and grin.
"Hey, look what you're doing... Gorgeous."

At the sight of his surprised expression, I can't help breaking into a laugh, and fortunately, so does he.

We spend the rest of the day together chatting and eating as if old friends. He's so easy and charming to talk to. As the clock strikes eight I make a move to go.

"You sure you know the way to the campsite?" Jack says as he escorts me to the door.

I go to my car, conveniently parked in the closest spot, and fiddle with the keys.
"Yep."

Eyeing up my old banger, Jack raises an eyebrow.
"Christ, you came all that way in this heap of shit? You're braver than I thought."

"Very funny."

He holds onto the top of the hotel door making himself taller as he swings it in its frame. I find it hard to stop thinking about how his body would feel against me, what his kisses would be like, soft or firm, hasty or slow.

"There's a bad storm coming over tonight." He nods his head to the brooding grey skyline over the water. "You should stay here the night."

I nearly believe he's actually concerned about me, rather than only trying to get in my pants, but he ruins it by grinning and blowing me a kiss.

I snort and toss the keys in my hand, laughing while I toss back an incredulous reply.
"Get stuffed, Jackie boy."

He retreats into the hotel, bowing my way in mock salute.

Still grinning, I get in and start up the car. I drive round along the shore road to the campsite. If only he wasn't so bloody gorgeous I could think about my surroundings and enjoy the scenery more. But the rough and ready beauty of nature is no competition for the whirlwind going on inside me. Was I too quick to say no to a holiday romance? Would it be any worse than the useless hook-ups from home? Maybe he could be Mr. Right and I passed him by?

Oh, for goodness sake!

The whole idea of this trip is to forget about men and do something for myself for once.

I pull into the gravel lane leading down to the camping pitches. The driveway passes through pine trees, opening up into a circular area of rolling grass and bushes, interspersed with tents of many shapes and colours.

I drive to the only brick building and park up. Stumbling out, the wind has really caught a hold now, and my hair tries to choke me by wrapping round my face. Thunder rumbles overhead and the sky is almost black. By the glare of the electric garden lights, the camp manager reaches out from the building's window and takes my booking form. I pay up and turn to get started on putting up the tent.

The red haired lady shouts after me.
"Now you'll be careful tonight now, lassie. There's a rare bad storm coming in. You may want to take shelter in the rec. room tonight. I'm leaving it unlocked, just in case now."

I have to shout back over the increasing roar of the storm.
"I'll keep it in mind, thanks."

Two hours later and I wished I'd taken Jack up on his naughty offer. I'm fighting to hold down the sides of the two-man tent, as the skies throw everything they have at the campsite. It's impossible to keep it together, the rain is so heavy that water starts to seep in around my knees.

Bugger this.

I unzip the canvas and leap out into the arms of hell.

I'm instantly battered by forces of wind, noise, rain and lightning. Twigs and clothing are hurled at me as I run zigzag to the car. Other campers are yelling and dragging screaming pyjama-clad children into the rec. room building. I make a dive for my car. The last place I want to be is in a room full of screaming babies.

Jumping in, I slam the door behind me. Just in time to witness a huge branch slam down on the bonnet of my car. I scream and try to reopen the door.

Shit.

It's jammed.

A motorbike headlight is closing in on me, bouncing and deflecting off flying objects. My heart is thumping in my throat, metallic saliva claws around my tongue and my hands become slow to react to my mind's instructions. I pull desperately at the handle as another branch is thrown by the hurricane onto the roof.

Thud.

"Ahh! Somebody help me." I scream at the glowing headlamp, next to the car.

A big block of a dark figure comes to the door and rips it open. Then, large leather-gloved hands grab my arm and pull me back into the swirling madness. A helmet is roughly forced onto my head, instantly cutting out the roar of the wind, but also snagging some strands of hair and ripping them out at the roots on its way down. I'm grasped round the helmet and my head is brought up to look into the motorcyclist's visor as it bangs in to mine.

Jack.

Like in those cheesy romance novels I've read over and over, I finally understand the cliché as my heart literally jumps for joy.

He gets on the motorbike and reaches round to help me on the back. We wobble through the deepening water along the lane, and ride out onto the treacherous road. Somehow, we make it back to the hotel.

He ushers me through the back door and up a creaky, dingy stairway. His hand permenantly clutching mine. The pulse of my blood is thumping up my wrist, bursting into life inside his grasp. My fingers tingle. I'm as light as air, floating up the stairs behind him, yet my forehead is clamy with sweat and my legs are sure to give way anytime now.

At the top of the stairs there is a narrow landing with four doors in a row. He leads me to the first on our right. I swallow dryly and grip his hand tighter. He squeezes it then lets go to put his key in the door.

Jack throws of his jacket as soon as we get through the bedroom door. He doesn't bother to turn on the lights, the window to the left of the doorway leaks in enough light for our purposes. We know what we're here for.

Without saying a word, he grabs me around the waist, and kicks the door shut behind me. Even in the gloomy room, I can see his eyes glinting with intent. My throat gets tighter and my legs shake. This guy is so hot, I don't think I'm going to last long in his hands.

He bends in to kiss me, making me gasp when he goes for my neck, instead of my mouth. His rough stubble grazes my throat as his kisses prove to be firm. The tip of his tongue teases my skin, setting fireworks off in my abdomen. He works his way up and takes my lips, once again, ecstacy pulses through me. He's everything I hoped for. Things steadily heat up, our hands search for each other and we stumble over in a ridiculous tango to the single bed. It's exactly as it should be. Exciting, sweaty and addictive, because with Jack Firenze, once is never enough.