~ You should love me ~

TWO ~ Mission Lando

I was standing on the balcony, praying if someone from the garden or another balcony would see me. I really don't want to face it with this "muscle back" hottie.
BUT no one is there! I even don't know in which room is Jen. Suddenly I return and look through the window. How long is he taking a shower???? I am here about 20 minutes at least. I am peeking inside when my eyes catches his eyes. He was wrapped in towel, his hair was wet. Dear Lord, save me.
"Ehm, hello. Can you unlock the door please?" I say. He is standing there, smiling widely.
"You need help?" he asks.
"Please."
"I don't know. I should probably call your boss."
What?!
"No, please. I didn't do it on purpose. It was an accident."
"Why should I believe you?"
"Because."
"I'll let you in if you do something for me."
"Anything you want."
"Do you know who am I?"
"No, should I?"
"Don't know... How are you with sport?"
"I'm not interested in any."
"Shame..."
"Yes. Can you get me in now, please. I need to continue with cleaning. If I don't finish with your room, my boss really will come look for me."
"Okay, but you owe me then."
He opens the door, but I stumble and fell. Directly in his arms. Again. Like on the plane.
"Woah, lady. You're falling into my arms all the time. I guess I should used on that."
I am laying on him. I can feel the warmth of his body. He is holding me with his strong arms. And he smells sooooooo good. We're looking at each other. His eyes. So dark. And those eyelashes.
"Mrs. Whiddon! What are you doing?!"
Oh, crap, it's Marion.
He quickly stood up and helps me up.
"She stumble. But it is nothing, I'm fine," he says.
"This is so inprofessional. Mister is wearing nothing, he is wrapped only in towel. This is the scandal!"
"Marion, please stop yelling. I didn't do this on purpose," I say.
"Oh, the boss shouldn't know about this."
"He wont." I look at "Muscle back" and nod: "Right?"
He smiles widely: "Don't worry, I wont tell the boss."
Marion walks up and down the room, speaking something in french.
He leans to me: "You owe me a date."
"It's forbidden to go out with our guests," I whisper.
"Mr. Sainz, please forgive us for this scandal. I promise she will be punished," she grabs my hand and pushes me out of the room.
"It is okay. Please, she did nothing wrong. Come on, miss Marion."
When I turn around I see how he winks at her. "She stumble from the stair and I save her. If I wouldn't catch her, she'll be in the sick leave now and you'll be without one of the best maids. I am very satisfied with her cleaning." He smiles to her and she blushed: "Fine. But only this time. Please, avoid her. I can guarantee, she will avoid you."
I am looking at him when he looks at me. "Come on, Mrs. Whiddon. Your work here is done. Take all the things and walk with me," Marion hiss. He hands me a broom and a bucket. "T-thank you," I stutter. "I am really sorry," I add then. He smiles in reply.

The past of afteroon went fast. Now I am in my room, combing my hair.
"I heard about your catastrophy," Jen said, walking out of bathroom.
"It was nothing. Marion overreacted."
"I heard he was naked."
"He was wrapped in a towel."
"Well, he was naked. Do you know his name?"
"Nah. Marion calls him Mr. Sainz."
"Oouuuu, Spaniard. He must be an animal in bed."
"We should never know," I say when I ended with combing.
"Lets Google him," Jen took her phone.
"Oh my f*cking god. He is gorgeous. And...he is an F1 driver."
"That's why he asked me about sport. He was upset I didn't recognize him." We both laugh.
"Tell me more, Jen. What should I know about him." I lay to bed and start listening.
"Sainz is the son of double World Rally champion, also his namesake, and has brought some of Dad's driving skills to the F1 circuit. He was born in first of September 1994. He is from Madrid. He has two sisters, Ana and Blanca. His nickname is Chili. He drives for Ferrari, but after this season he'll change the team. His best friend is Lando Norris, which drives for McLaren, his-"
"Stop, stop. Google Lando Norris. Please," I stop her.
"But here is much more about Carlos."
"We'll return back to him later."
"Fine. Lando Norris. He is a british-belgian F1 driver, born in 13 November 1999,-"
"Show me the photo," I stop her again.
He hands me a phone. Gosh.
"I want to date him," I spill.
"You what? Why? Carlos is older, taller, and much your type, so-"
"You can have him. I want Lando. And tomorrow starts mission Lando. He is here with Carlos. I saw him by the pool."
"Okay, but don't forget. It's forbidden to make any contacts with our hotel guests."
"Don't worry. We'll make this smooth. Now lets go to sleep. Tomorrow has to be soon."