The Great Escape (Dilbury Village #2)

by Charlotte Fallowfield

  The Next Day – Monday

  ‘I can’t believe you missed him jogging past, he was absolutely gorgeous,’ Abbie exclaimed with a yawn as she sank back down to stretch out on her sun lounger. She arched her back, hands over her head like a cat basking in the sun.

  ‘I’ve got gorgeous right here in my book, Charlie sure knows how to write a hot and sexy alpha-male,’ I observed, desperate to dive back in after being rudely interrupted during a key scene by Abbie’s insistence that I shouldn’t miss the supposed hot male that I had actually missed. I was still in shock that our neighbour and good friend, Charlie, wrote steamy material like this. I hadn’t been able to look her in the eye for a while after I’d read my first book of hers last month, despite her insisting that she hadn’t done all the kinky things her heroines had. I’d been so addicted though, I’d soon got over my initial discomfort and had saved this spin-off novel, along with a trilogy of hers, to enjoy on this vacation. It was the closest to hot and steamy action I was likely to see for some time.

  ‘Yes, the men in her books are smoking,’ she confirmed, ‘but book boyfriends aren’t tangible and don’t rock your world multiple times a night.’

  ‘A night? Crikey, it’s been that long, I’d be happy with multiple times a decade right now.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ she groaned, fighting her eyelids closing.

  ‘Don’t fall asleep in the sun, you’ll burn,’ I warned her as I stuck my nose back into the engrossing story.

  ‘Don’t turn into one of those wives who nag,’ she yawned.

  I shook my head with a giggle a while later when I pulled myself out of my book and looked over the top of my sunglasses to see that Abbie was open mouthed and gently snoring, totally out for the count. We’d stayed up last night far longer than we’d planned to, and she’d been working so hard and had been so stressed recently, it would do her good to catch up on a few more hours’ of sleep. I decided to leave her be, but got up to angle her parasol to keep her in the shade. The sun out here was relentless, and she’d scoffed at my offer to use my factor fifty sun lotion that I religiously applied every couple of hours. With my fair complexion, blue eyes, and red hair, I only had to look at the sun for my skin to fry, so I was taking no chances. I slathered another layer on, then sat back against my propped-up recliner, bending my knees up slightly to rest my Kindle against my thighs. I reached for my mojito cocktail, knocked back the dregs, and let out a soft sigh of contentment as I surveyed the stunning turquoise and white view in front of me from our position on the stretch of beach in front of our villa. This was the life, that was for sure.

  We’d tried to tell the hotel again that they’d made a mistake after they delivered us breakfast in our villa when we’d overslept, and reminded us about our inclusive daily honeymoon-package “couples massage,” but to no avail. We were doomed to be Mrs. and Mrs. Carter for the rest of the holiday. We’d explored for a while, checking out the various restaurants and bars, indoors and out, as well as the main hotel swimming pool and spa area, which included private cabanas over the ocean for treatments, where we’d already had our first massage. We’d gorged on fresh fruit in the air-conditioned restaurant when the sun had been at its peak, as I wanted to avoid the worst of it, then we’d come to lie and admire the view as we sipped on cocktails, again all complimentary. By the time I put my empty glass down, Alejandro, the waiter who looked after a couple of the private villas along our stretch of the beach, was at my side.

  ‘Another mojito, Mrs. Carter?’ he enquired.

  ‘Thank you so much,’ I nodded, a little too vigorously. Free cocktails in paradise? I could stay out here forever.

  ‘And another for Mrs. Carter?’ he asked, tipping his head in Abbie’s direction

  ‘Ah no, she’s resting, she didn’t get much sleep last night,’ I replied, then gasped and shook my head as a knowing smile spread across his face. ‘Not because we were … you know, because we were talking, nothing else, just talking.’

  ‘Just talking, yes, Mrs. Carter,’ he chuckled. ‘I be back with your cocktail soon.’

  ‘Honestly, just talking,’ I called after him, before plopping back against my sun lounger with a sigh. Abbie would have laughed and played up to his assumptions.

  I wondered when was I going to lose this inherent concern at what people thought of me? “It’s all about appearances and impressions, darling” came my mother’s well-to-do voice in my head. “One must be seen as a lady, beyond reproach, at all times.” It wasn’t like I was going to see anyone from here ever again, so what if they thought I’d been up romping with “my wife” all night?

  ‘Hello! Talk about romping, now that’s one specimen I’d be proud to admit to spending a sleepless night with,’ I murmured breathlessly to myself, as I looked over my sunglasses at the man jogging along the beach towards me. I wondered if it was the same guy Abbie had been talking about, because she definitely wasn’t wrong in her positive appraisal of him.

  Holy hell, all of a sudden the Mexican heat had nothing on the way my body was responding to the sight of a nearly naked, gorgeous male specimen. I gulped as I studied him, his toned muscles flexing as he powered his way along the sand. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him anywhere. He was cut and ripped without carrying bulk, and his bronzed skin glowed with a sheen of sexy perspiration, almost making him shimmer in the sunlight as if he’d had a pot of gold glitter tossed over him, Edward Cullen’s daytime vampire style.

  This man should have been cast in the starring role of the Baywatch revival. All he wore was a small pair of tight Lycra black shorts that hugged his hips, a little less tightly than I’d have liked to be hugging them right now, but tightly all the same. I took a few deep breaths, the scorching hot air doing nothing to help my suddenly dry throat. Greg had been a metro-sexual man, and while I’d had no problem with that at all, this guy was the epitome of a man’s man and that was doing things to me I’d never experienced from looks alone. Lean, powerful, exuding confidence and total awareness of his body and surroundings, he commanded attention with every strike of his bare feet on damp sand, every pump of his powerful biceps as his arms and legs moved to a steady, rhythmical beat.

  I was sure I wasn’t the only female admiring him as he ran, but he was completely focussed on his workout, only glancing down to look at a black watch on his right hand every few strides. I was unable to pull my eyes away from him, and as he drew closer, I saw that he had a number of tattoos on his biceps, ribs, and chest. None of the public school boy types I’d been out with had ever had tattoos, I’d never have imagined I’d find them attractive, but all of a sudden I was panting like a dog on heat, with visions of me running my fingers and tongue over them as I explored. Long-forgotten desire unfurled deep in my belly, flooding my senses, as I watched a trickle of sweat working its way down between those firm pecs, preparing to do battle with the undulating ridges of his abdomen.

  Don’t be a body whore, Georgie, I warned myself. There’s more to a man than a perfect body, even if it’s just made your ovaries go into overdrive. Hell, who was I kidding? I had no ovaries left, he’d just incinerated them. I dragged my gaze up to his face and heard a soft moan escape my lips. Hello, chiselled perfection! My God, that strong jaw with a hint of unshaven scruff, alluring tousled dark hair, and angular cheekbones I’d have killed for. Damn him for wearing sexy mirrored shades. Now I was going to fantasise all night about him having perfect blue eyes as well. Blue eyes were my weakness. Then again, I had a feeling anything on this guy could be my weakness. And that was when I noticed what he was packing as he drew almost level with me. Wow, I’d need an expert-level mountaineering qualification and grappling irons before trying to scale that peak. And quite possibly an oxygen mask for altitude sickness.

  ‘Holy shit,’ I squeaked, obviously a little louder than I’d anticipated, as he whipped his head to the left to look in my direction. Just as fast, I dropped mine back down to where my Kindle was resting against my bent-up knees, my chest heaving as I tried
to regulate my out-of-control breathing, and prayed he hadn’t seen me checking him out.

  I heard a “Damn it” in a gravelly tone, right as there was the sound of a heavy thwack. I gingerly lifted my eyes up to peek over the top of my sunglasses, then quickly looked back down again when I saw he’d tripped and landed face first in the sand opposite me. I held my breath as I forced myself to focus on my book, even though I wasn’t reading any of the words right now. My mystery runner had just displaced my book boyfriend as my primary focus. He didn’t look to me like a man who tripped. He looked so invincible and controlled up until that moment, and I didn’t want to embarrass him by letting it be known he’d been seen eating sand. Now if Abbie was awake and she’d witnessed that, she’d have roared with laughter.

  Had I distracted him with my vocal objectifying of his … everything? I was mortified to think he knew I’d been openly ogling him if that was the case. I heard a noise and sneaked another quick surreptitious glance to see him jogging away, wiping sand off his firm thighs as he went, so I let out the breath I’d been holding and lifted my head right up, cocking it slightly to check out the peachy tight globes of his sexy backside. Wow. Talk about instant and explosive attraction. Fireworks were detonating in my stomach as I watched him go. Those fireworks were suddenly overtaken by embarrassment, my cheeks heating up, as he cast a look over his shoulder at me and flashed me a smile, making me quickly look away again. Damn it, he had heard me, and what was with that gorgeous smile that made my heart race and the fireworks crescendo to a grand and violent finale inside me?

  I put my hand over my rapidly beating heart and swiftly knocked back the cocktail that Alejandro brought for me, then just as quickly ordered another and a jug of water. I needed something to douse this fire raging inside of me. I’d never had a physical reaction to any man like that, which told me only one thing. A man like that spelled trouble with a capital T for me. If my judgement in men, relationships, and love was already impaired, I stood no chance of retaining any sense of reason around a man who made me dizzy with desire. Not when the overwhelming desire to drag him back to my bed and spend the night getting acquainted with his body, and not his mind, was surging through my veins. And it was totally against everything I’d been taught or believed in. Right now, though, I so wanted to ditch the ladylike image I’d carefully perfected and become the naughty girl that broke all of the rules. I had a feeling that he’d be totally worth it.

  When I spotted him heading back my way about half an hour later, I deliberately stuck my head down, pretending to read as I tried to regulate my out-of-control breathing. Shit, what if he stopped to talk to me? I’d always been articulate in conversations with the opposite sex, except for Dai Owens, the farmer’s son who’d worked the fields near my parents’ holiday cottage in Dolphin Bay. I’d had such a crush on the rough and ready, slightly older guy who’d spent all of the summer topless as he’d hauled bales of hay in just a pair of old combat trousers, that my mouth had spewed incoherent word salad at him the first time I’d tried to talk to him. I’d made such a fool of myself that whenever he’d spoken to me after that, I’d become tongue-tied and was hardly able to say anything, so he’d started avoiding me. I should have known that Greg and I weren’t meant to be by the fact that we’d been able to converse eloquently the first night we’d met. It showed my lack of instant attraction to him, he’d grown on me over time.

  I pushed my glasses up my nose, hiding my eyes as I angled them to see where Hasselhoff Junior was, and took in a sharp breath to see he’d slowed down and was looking my way. He flashed me another insanely sexy grin, which made me avert my eyes again. What if he came over and I made a fool of myself? Why was Abbie sleeping when I needed her to protect me? By the time I cast a discreet look back up, he was powering away from me at speed.

  ‘Get a grip, Georgie,’ I muttered as I watched him disappear. ‘No point crushing on some random guy you’re never likely to see again, and couldn’t talk to even if you did.’

  ‘What? Huh? What?’ mumbled Abbie, sleepiness filling her voice as she stirred on her bed.

  ‘Hello, sleeping beauty,’ I laughed as I set my book on the table and twisted onto my side to face her as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. ‘Chin, you have drool.’

  ‘How long have I been asleep?’ she moaned as she rubbed around her mouth furiously. ‘Why didn’t you wake me up?’

  ‘A few hours, and because you obviously needed it.’

  ‘Georgie!’ she scolded.

  ‘Oh sorry, and I thought I was being nice letting you rest and making sure you were in the shade so you wouldn’t burn. Next time I’ll just let you sizzle like a pound of bacon.’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be snappy. You know I’m not good in the morning.’

  ‘It’s the afternoon, or rather early evening. It’s time we packed up and went to get ready for dinner.’

  ‘You should have woken me. I didn’t drag you here just to leave you on your own while I snoozed the holiday away.’

  ‘You didn’t drag me, and I’m here to be whatever you need me to be, sweetie. This holiday is for your benefit, so if you need to sleep, you sleep. Don’t mind me, I’m more than happy to relax and read. You know when you’re ready to talk, I’ll be all ears.’

  ‘Did I miss any excitement?’ she asked, avoiding my subtle reminder that she needed to talk. Burying her head in the sand wasn’t going to resolve her relationship problems.

  ‘No, none,’ I replied a little too quickly, as I felt my cheeks heat up again at the thought of my mystery jogger. ‘Come on, let’s go and get prettied up to eat in public tonight, before everyone thinks we’re never going to leave the villa, we’re that into each other.’

  ‘Ha, still calling you Mrs. Carter, then?’ she giggled as she scooped up her belongings.

  ‘Yes, and I’m worried I’m starting to like the sound of that and won’t want to be Miss Basset again when we get home.’

  ‘Not as worried as I am,’ she laughed.

  Three Days Later – Thursday

  I spotted him jogging towards us again, not that I lay here every day with my eyes peeled waiting for him, of course. Though my lack of actual reading since I first spotted him would totally disprove my protestations. I waited until the last possible moment, when I was at risk of being seen objectifying him, then put my head down.

  ‘Hello again,’ Abbie purred, making me shoot her a jealous look. I didn’t like the idea of other women looking at him the way I did. She raised her eyebrows as I put my head back down, staring at the words blankly as memories of his buff body made my skin prickle. ‘Cat got your tongue?’ she enquired.

  ‘What?’ I replied, deliberately ignoring her, knowing my cheeks were at risk of betraying my thoughts.

  ‘Hot totty alert. He just jogged right in front of us, looking like some kind of bronzed Olympian, smiled at you, again, and you didn’t bat an eyelid. Again. He’s gorgeous, so your type. Didn’t you see him just now? Or all the other times he’s jogged past in the last few days?’

  ‘Hmmm,’ I nodded, trying to act disinterested as I pretended to read. ‘He’s ok, I guess.’

  ‘You guess?’ she exclaimed. ‘Ok, what’s the deal?’

  ‘No deal,’ I shrugged. Damn it, she’d shifted to face me. She was going to break me if she caught my eye. I grabbed my cocktail and chased the straw around the glass before catching it and slowly sucking a load of the cold drink down. Hopefully she’d get bored waiting for an answer and move on to another topic.

  ‘You little liar, Georgie Basset! I know you too well, what gives?’ she demanded forcefully, making me groan. She was like a dog with a bone when she wanted an answer to something.

  ‘Ok, I saw him. Every. Single. Damn. Time. He’s gorgeous. So hot I had to check my bikini hadn’t burst into flames from where my body heated up. Happy now?’ I retorted with a huff.

  ‘No. Why were you trying to hide the fact that you fancy him?’ she asked, confusion written all over her face.<
br />
  ‘Because … oh, you wouldn’t understand.’ I flicked my hand at her, then set my cocktail back down and picked up my Kindle again, but she leaned over and snatched it out of my hand. Damn it. No hiding my lustful feelings from her now.

  ‘Uh-uh, sweetie. This is one discussion you’re not wheedling your way out of. Come on, talk.’

  ‘Fine,’ I sighed. ‘You know me really well, Abbie.’

  ‘Well, I should hope so, best friend and all.’

  ‘And you are, you so are, but you’ve only known me with Greg, or the Georgie who’s single and totally uninterested in men.’ I hesitated, not sure if she’d understand my logic.

  ‘Your point being?’ She finished her cocktail and waved Alejandro over.

  ‘You don’t know Georgina, the girl who’s super shy when she sees a guy she likes. Who gets so flustered that she can’t speak, let alone look him in the eye,’ I stated, memories of that awful incident with Dai Owens coming back to haunt me. ‘That’s why I haven’t smiled back, because I think he’s gorgeous. I got butterflies in my tummy the first time I saw him,’ I added, downplaying the explosion of fireworks I’d actually felt.

  ‘Ok, colour me confused here. When you like a guy, you make out that you don’t, thereby ensuring he won’t approach you and saving you the embarrassment of admitting you fancy him? Hold that response,’ she suggested when I went to reply. She ordered two more cocktails and some slices of watermelon, then gestured for me to continue.

  ‘Seriously, Abbie. I’m totally bashful when a guy I like comes to talk to me. I say stupid things and make myself look a fool, and they can’t back away fast enough. Best to just save myself the humiliation and not let them know I like them.’