The Escape

by Alice Ward

  Perfect. I would only have to see Mason during challenges.

  Our elevator led straight into the living area of our suite.

  The ceiling was made to look rustic with heavy wooden hewn logs angling to a peak above us. The rest of the room was composed of windows looking out onto magnificent mountains and an expanse of snowy white.

  My libido did a leap as I realized people might be able to see in those windows, especially at night when we’d be doing god knew what. A shiver sliced from my stomach up to my spine at the thought of what Ava and I would be doing in this room the next few days, the next month. I swallowed hard as the images dancing around in my head turned tantalizingly erotic.

  The attendant waved her arm in an arc. “This suite has been designed with a lot of unique elements. The first you might notice are the floor-to-ceiling picture windows. These windows were created as an eco-friendly mountain experience. They are reflective glass on the outside that mirrors the beauty of the natural environment surrounding the chalet while giving penthouse guests a sense of living in the trees. This provides privacy during daylight and nighttime hours and is a perfect complement to the majesty that is all around us.”

  “The glass is warm during cold winter nights and cool in the heat of summer,” I added, remembering now from a stay with the family when I was in college. That means your ass will be warm when I fuck you against them.

  Ava gave me a smile but still looked a little worried.

  Our guide moved on, and we followed her. I wanted to speed this up and tried to be patient as she showed us the kitchen. Next, she led us back into the living room and opened a nearly hidden door to a bathroom, which had an unexpected four-person Jacuzzi tub. “This is the master bath which is accessible from both here and the bedroom.”

  Ava gasped.

  “Hmmm, very nice,” I agreed with her reaction, thinking of the sore muscles we could soak in there… and other things. “It’s a good place for…” I eyed Ava with a purposely sinister expression to gauge where she stood, “getting wet.”

  Her face froze, and her jaw gaped before she shut it quickly. Fuck, her mouth was sexy.

  She took a deep breath. “Yeah and maybe add some bubbles or aromatherapy oils.”

  I looked at her for a moment, silent, my face a stoic mask. “I was thinking more along the lines of bath paint and body oil.”

  “Oh…” Her face froze, and she looked like she might bolt for the door.

  I tried laughing, but it came out more of a guttural groan. “Kidding.” Not really.

  “Ha-ha. You had me worried for a second there.” She laughed nervously, then stared at the tub.

  “Have you ever even looked at my uncle’s BDSM pleasure site?” I asked, unable to keep the disbelief from my expression.

  “Yes… um, on the plane, a few hours ago,” she confessed as her cheeks turned an attractive shade of pink.

  “Why did you enter this competition then? Do you really need the money that badly?” I tried to keep my voice from coming out as patronizing, but I could tell by the timid glimmer in her eyes that I wasn’t doing a very good job at keeping the man I really was hidden.

  Our guide shifted on her heels uncomfortably but said nothing.

  “I didn’t apply to the competition, my roommate did it for me. She’s an avid fan. Your uncle convinced me to accept his offer, even after he discovered that she’d entered me in the competition without my consent. Honestly, I’m terrified of what I’ve gotten myself into.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.

  Dammit. I was a jerk.

  “You have the option to leave anytime you want to. It’s barely started.” I held my breath. I’d love to teach Ava the finer points of my desires, but I didn’t want her unwilling.

  “No.” Ava blinked a few times and lifted her chin. “I want to stay. I’m open to… whatever.”

  Thank god.

  It wasn’t like me to show or even feel compassion, so I shocked myself when I walked over to her and gathered her into an embrace, then held her tightly. The guide tensed but didn’t separate us, and I inhaled the sweet, fruity scent of her.

  “It’s okay. Don’t be scared. I get where you’re coming from. Your fears are justified. You don’t know me, you don’t know the website hosting this craziness, and you’re smart to keep on your guard. A gorgeous woman like you needs to keep up her first line of defense.” I smoothed her hair away from her face, then let her go and held her at arm’s length. “I promise, I won’t hurt you. Anything I do… we do, will be strictly for pleasure. Okay?”

  Shit, this was too Fifty Shades…

  She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

  “Shall we continue?” our guide asked with a note of caution in her voice then waved at the enormous shower and marble sink with two basins.

  She discretely motioned to a door for the separate toilet area, and we went to the entrance area before moving toward the hall that led to the bedroom.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Ava

  “Are you okay?” Lucas asked with a concerned lover look that had butterflies thumping in my stomach as we fell behind our tour guide.

  “Yes.” It came out as a whisper so soft I knew he barely heard it. “Let’s see the rest of this place,” I said, mostly to distance myself from the attraction I felt every time I laid eyes on Lucas. It was obvious already that he was raring to go, and I wondered at my own capability to hold him off.

  The guide led us down the hallway with doors on either side, each designated as mine or his with nameplates. I turned the knob of the one with my name and pushed it open. As the gap between the door and the jamb widened, the light clicked on. I gasped. A walk-in closet. I’d never had a walk-in closet, had always coveted them.

  I walked inside, the guide following as I took in the bare necessities hanging from the rods. I was stunned to see the few garments hanging there. A pair of jeans, an expensive t-shirt, a purple ski outfit, a barely-there negligée nightgown, which made me shiver, and two garment bags with mystery clothes.

  I was stunned until the guide handed me a red envelope with white-embossed vines looping into hearts running around the edges. I opened it and smiled at the instructions, glee filling my chest. I’d been hoping for something wearable with a little style, but this was even better.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucas peeking around the doorframe into my closet. “Whoa. There must be some mix up. You should practically have a closet full.” A hint of anger changed his face to an even harder countenance.

  I knew I had to be glowing, but didn’t care as I waved the note in my hand. This was significant.

  “What’d you find there?” Lucas asked, looking truly interested.

  “I’ve been given my personal request.” A note of excitement rang through my voice. “I spoke to your uncle about it in my interview. I need to design my wardrobe by midnight. Six outfits. Two evening gowns, two cocktail dresses, one casual outfit and one outfit that one would categorize as… um, more casual.” Actually, BDSM. My face flamed and I hoped Lucas would take that for excitement too. The card said I’d be paid another hundred thousand if I could complete the items by midnight, so I couldn’t very well not do it because of some kinky outfit.

  Lucas searched my eyes, surprise at the reflection of my happiness shining in his. “That seems like a tall order, but if it makes you happy…”

  It was strange how I could read every emotion that crossed his face, and I wondered if it was just me, or if he wore his heart on his thousand-dollar suit and just didn’t know it.

  Lucas turned to the guide. “Is there a similar envelope for me? A… um, request?”

  “No, sir. This is personal for Miss Durant and is not part of the contest challenge from earlier.”

  I lifted a shoulder. “All right.”

  The guide motioned us along, and the next thing I knew, I was staring down at a king-sized bed strewn with rose petals and trying to control my breathing. I could feel his
eyes on my back, and I struggled to hear our guide’s words.

  “…three entrances to the bedroom, one through the hallway with your walk-in closets, one through the bathroom and another coming in from the main hall.”

  I forced my attention to the vase of roses by the bed that was sitting next to a tray of chocolates, then ordered myself to check out the view from the window. The bedroom had the same lovely picture windows as the living room. Above the bed was a large skylight. You would be able to see the sky clearly while lying in it. Magnificent.

  A scenario of Lucas and I, our limbs tangled as we rolled together on the bed under the stars flashed through my mind.

  I stepped away from the bed just as the guide said her goodbyes. I was so hot. Was I coming down with something?

  I ripped my eyes away from the romantic scene and zeroed in on the fabric of the drapes. It looked luxurious from here.

  I’d become a fashion designer because I’d been swooped out of my ragtag living room by every season of “Project Runway” and saved my sparse allowance for fabric to make my own eclectic designs. In the small town of Witts Springs, Arkansas, I’d had the dreams of a city girl, but now, I felt like a country girl lost in a big city fantasy.

  I was raised with my sister, sharing a bedroom and bunk beds, the walls weeping with peeling wallpaper, so the opulence was a bit overwhelming. I wished she could be here to see me now.

  Except… I swallowed. There was only one bed. Which I would be sleeping in with Lucas.

  Okay, scratch the wish she could see me now.

  As the oldest, I needed to remember why I was here. No matter what it took, no matter what I had to do, I would procure what was needed to take care of her, make sure her belly didn’t growl from hunger and that she didn’t have to go off to a gigantic city all alone with nothing to chase but her dreams.

  I looked down at the blouse I’d made to remind myself of the reason I was really here. I’d created fabric from my memory of the yellowing wallpaper print of our room as it juxtaposed to the cracked cinder block walls.

  Taking a deep breath, I straightened my spine and turned to face Lucas.

  I knew I was well protected in this game, trusted Mr. Huffman and his stellar business record. Still, I didn’t trust the man standing before me, and I worried that behind those marvelously beautiful eyes, there was something nefarious.

  I’d agreed to do this, thought it would challenge every fiber of my small-town-girl being to be here. Toughen me up so I could come out more than just surviving the cutthroat fashion industry of New York. It’d all happened so fast. I’d been catapulted from a fairly normal existence… to this. Since we’d left dinner and the comfort of other people, even competitors, I recognized just how alone and isolated we were.

  Alone. With a stranger.

  A stranger who was studying me much the same way I was him. His dark hair was ruthlessly cut, his jaw not daring to show so much as a hint of five o’clock shadow. His shoulders were wide, and I’d bet his chest would be hard if I poked my finger into it. I wanted to… poke my finger there and run it downward, see if his abs stood out the way I thought they would, see if that was a bulge beneath his zipper or if I was imagining things. Had that website rubbed off on me?

  He cleared his throat. “Would you like to tackle your project in the kitchen? There seemed to be good lighting there, and we can open a bottle of wine.”

  “Oh, that sounds great. Thank you.” From what I’d seen of Lucas, he was very aware of his surroundings, and I admired a man who noticed what others would need or want.

  I couldn’t help but be amazed earlier when the elevator doors opened to the wide expanse of space we crossed now to get to the kitchen. The living room space was easily four times the size of my whole apartment in New York. Surely we could stay out of each other’s way.

  There was plenty of room for Lucas and me in this space, which made me feel more secure. Better. More like I had room to build a strategy. If I knew what the competition held in store.

  Sitting with Mason and Isabella and making small talk had been hard, and most likely would become more difficult over time. I wanted to like them, be friends with them, didn’t feel comfortable being pitted against them. But I had to think of them as adversaries. They stood in the way of my dream and my sister’s future.

  Continuing to be attentive, Lucas led me to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair for me, not stepping away until he was sure I was comfortable. I was a sucker for a gentleman and forced down the sigh that automatically came into my throat.

  A wine glass clinked onto the table as Lucas sat it in front of me. “Have you always wanted to be a fashion designer?”

  I smiled, remembering the botched outfits I’d made for Barbie out of things I’d salvage from the clothes boxes we’d get from the church. “Since I knew what a skirt was.” He smiled and sat down across from me, looking interested, so I continued, “I learned to design clothes that were wearable for my sister and me by practicing on my Barbie dolls. Barbie came out quite fashionable, but I’m afraid I lost interest in Ken early on. He’s probably still bumbling around in trousers that could fall off any minute due to faulty stitching.”

  That made me think of Lucas with his pants off, and my face grew hot. I had to stop thinking this way. I would have to sleep next to the man tonight, keyword being sleep.

  Lucas smiled and looked down at the formal dress my hand was practically sketching on its own. Because most of my focus was on him and I couldn’t seem to break it away.

  “I’m sure your pants stay up now. Or do for a time.” He winked, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended. But before I could decide, he jumped right in. “Tell me, is money a motivator for you?” His face was serious and stoic.

  A rock bottomed out in my stomach, and my brain scrambled around the things it wanted to say in response. I shot a sideways glance at him, afraid I couldn’t keep the how-could-you-be-such-a-dumbass look off my face.

  “I saved for years to go to New York School of Design, as I intend to own my own fashion boutique and brand one day. I’m pretty sure most women who enter this type of competition do so for the money.”

  He agreed, and for a second, looked mildly embarrassed as if he hadn’t realized money could be a strong motivator. He probably had never needed to do something he didn’t want to do for the money.

  Guilt wanted to stab me and shriek, you’re nothing but a prostitute, taking money for what is obviously going to involve sex with a stranger! But in the end, I could have mine and my sister’s dreams in my hands. And besides, wasn’t sex with a stranger a hot genre in the romance market? Hell, maybe I’d write a book — a fiction romance — so no one would know it was actually the truth.

  “Any other aspirations?”

  “In the spring I’m going to audition for “Project Runway.” I’ve been watching it for years, and it really built my confidence in being able to succeed in an industry so competitive. I’m not the most competitive person.”

  “Oh. You don’t seem to be the Hedon.com type. Am I right?” He seemed genuinely interested.

  “I can’t say I completely disapprove of Hedon. I mean, everyone has their outlet for stuff, and I’m glad it offers people a chance to get their freak on, but that’s not really me. I believe in love.”

  “And you think people who get their freak on, don’t?” It didn’t seem like he was judging, just asking.

  “Maybe not in the same way.” I danced around the insult, trying to lessen the sting since I was picking up on that maybe he was the Hedon.com type. I was also trying to think around my brain screaming for me to run.

  “In what way do you see love?” He leaned closer, his eyes in the overhead light looking as deep as a crystal clear well at twilight. I could fall into them and never surface.

  “I guess love is being attracted to the other person, of course, but beyond that, it’s accepting faults as well as the things that make us fabulous. It’s allowing ourselves to be
vulnerable to the unknown together. If a couple can brave the inevitability of life with each other and still want to get crazy in the bedroom or travel to Peru when they’re ninety, then I feel that’s love.” I was babbling, so I shut my trap and reached for the humor I usually got through life with.

  “Very astute, Ava Durant. Who did you learn that wisdom from?”

  “Ken and Barbie. They’re very in love and share all things. They also travel a lot in their RV.”

  Lucas’s eyes lit with delight, and I found I wanted to make them do that again and again.

  The truth was, that’s what I wanted love to look like. The light shining there in Lucas’s eyes.

  “I like it. I hope Ken and Barbie make it to Peru. I can see you’re grappling with the context of the contest, and I’m interested in what you have to say. I find your ideas refreshing. Please don’t think I find your motivation distasteful. It may look like I don’t know anything other than this lifestyle, but I do.”

  I felt myself flush and put more concentration into the evening gown I was sketching. I had to be more careful to guard my judgments, he’d obviously seen right through me.

  “Sadly,” Lucas continued, “just before my father died, he made a bad business deal which left my mother and me nearly destitute. Uncle Harv gave us a great deal of ‘get back on our feet money,’ but my mom objected, so she put it into a trust for me. I didn’t have a spoiled brat upbringing like Mason did.”

  “Oh?” That caught my interest. He thought Mason was the spoiled brat. I was suddenly glad I’d been paired with Lucas. I detested spoiled brats, and if Mason was even more spoiled than Lucas, then good luck to Isabella. “What did you do with the money? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “Of course not. The reason Uncle ordered us not to copulate, I’m assuming, was to force us to get to know each other. I used that money when I was twenty-nine years old to start a small investment banking business, which I’ve been running for four years now.”

  The clear, bottomlessness of his eyes clouded until it seemed as if a shutter snapped shut in them, not allowing me to see something he’d hidden deep.