“Couples resort,” the woman said with the same singsong voice. “Paradise for you and your loved one. All day, every day. So I’ll book you in for thirty minutes and your partner can join you?” she said to Janie.
“I don’t have…”
“That sounds fine,” Bevan cut in. “We meet the boat down at the jetty?”
“Yes,” said the woman. “Room number, please?”
He gave her his room number and frowned at Janie to keep her mouth shut.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said after the staffer had gone. But thank you thank you thank you!
“I know. It gets under my sporran when regulation overtakes reality. Did you know it was a couples resort?”
She puffed her cheeks out. “It was supposed to be a singles resort. My aunt Alexia did the booking, although she was super busy so it’s hardly her fault. And not that she’s really my aunt. But anyway. No, I did not know it was a couples resort. Shit. No wonder everything is set up for twos. And no wonder Tina and her husband were coming here together.”
Bevan looked around and then huffed a breath out through his teeth. “Must have been how I got a deal on the place. Slow season.”
Okay, so he sat with you, stood up for you, what does that make it, 80 percent interested? She was going with that. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. And if you don’t mind about coming to Phi Phi Leh, then I’d love the company. Unless you were supposed to be doing something else today.”
“I hadn’t actually got that far.” He pursed his lips. “Phi Phi Leh? It’s an island, right? Far away. Not very many people?”
Janie dug into her enormous beach bag for her guidebook. Flicking to the page, Janie scanned the guidebook and then handed it over. “Maya Beach. It’s where they filmed The Beach. You know, with Leonardo.”
“DiCaprio?” Bevan’s face fell. “So it’s a big tourist attraction? Lots of people?”
“It gets busy I think, yes. That’s why you go on the first trip. The boat gets there before the other tourists then it does a loop around the island. The other boats don’t do that.”
“So no other tourists?”
“Not none. But waaaay less. That’s what the pamphlet said. And we’re up so early we might strike it lucky and give them all the slip.”
“Right,” he said and stood up. “If you’ve already got everything you need, let’s make sure of it.”
Janie gave herself a little hug. McDashing had volunteered to go on a trip with her. A trip he was trying to make sure there were hardly any other people on. That was good. That was great even. Surely that counted as 85 percent interested?
Time to make it 100 percent.
Chapter Three
While Janie was stashing her enormous bag down below, Blaine had a quiet word with the boat driver and convinced him to not only leave straightaway without anyone else on board, but to also go to a couple of different beaches to make sure they didn’t run into the hordes. It wasn’t hard.
The guy had conceded to alter his route for the extra baht Blaine handed him, along with the sob story of needing to make it up to his girlfriend for losing her baggage. Luckily, bribing boatmen cost less than a dinner out in Glasgow in this part of the world.
“Many thanks, sir. You call me Tuan.”
Blaine nodded and smiled. “Call me…Bevan.”
You pick Bevan MacGreggor as a name? Half groaning, Blaine laughed at his idiot self. At least he’d picked a last name that had a connection. His clan name was the one thing he had to hold on to from his parents. His real parents. He looked down at where the MacGreggor clan tattoo poked out the bottom of his T-shirt sleeve. “Better to be safe than slaughtered,” he said, as if saying it out loud would make it so.
Now that the British press had a personal vendetta against him, determined to work out why the hell he was with Stephanie, he was wary of everyone. Every. One. And yet here he was on a boat with a complete stranger. Blaine looked through the hatch where Janie was still faffing about with her bag, and for the first time in a while, he wasn’t worried. She had no idea who he was. None. And sitting with her at breakfast this morning he realized how much he’d missed this. Missed talking to another human being, someone who didn’t care about what he did for a job or how much money he made, who just wanted to talk to him.
So you thought you’d take her on an island cruise? Okay, so that had been over the top, but he hadn’t been lying when he said he hated unnecessary regulations. Stupid paperwork had landed his brother and him in the worst foster home this side of, well, Thailand, but because their “parents” ticked all the boxes, there was nothing Blaine could do about it. Now that he could, Blaine fought idiots with clipboard-ticking mentalities whenever he could.
Janie popped her head up out of the hatch and gave him a huge grin. And then there was that. Her smile was contagious. If Janie Milan wasn’t the definition of apple pie American, he didn’t know what was.
“I know I should have explored more of Ko Lanta first. I mean, it’s incredible here already. But I mean, I have always wanted to go to Maya Beach. I mean, that movie! It was amazing, don’t you think? Chilling.”
“I get what you mean,” Blaine said with a chuckle, but if she caught his laughing jab at her repetition, she didn’t show it.
Blaine had seen The Beach. Hell, if he managed to get half as famous as Leonardo DiCaprio he’d be walking on air. Making it on the Hollywood big screen would mean he could pay off all his brother’s debts and get Hamish out of the shit permanently, but it didn’t mean he bought into the hype that the film had brought to the Thailand location. Watching Janie’s animated face as she rattled off the description, however, Blaine got caught up in her enthusiasm, and he felt his shoulders lowering. She was contagious.
This break away was turning out to be a great idea, not just a good one. And spending the day with her wasn’t breaking Stephanie-Crazy-Lip’s rules—he wasn’t pursuing Janie; hell, he wasn’t even touching her. He was helping her, making sure she got to go to her island paradise. And making sure he was as far away from anyone who might recognize him as possible. That was allowed, surely.
As Tuan drove the boat across the unbelievably clear water, Blaine found himself squashed in close to Janie at the prow. Her legs were bare, the blue shorts she wore not hot pants, but brief enough to showcase the well-toned olive legs that revealed she spent plenty of time active outdoors. He pushed his hands into his pockets.
Women with a bit of muscle were much nicer than the willowy waifs who were usually cast to act opposite him. None of the leading ladies he’d worked with would be able to lug firewood, let alone lift a solid metal sword like they would have done in the real Scottish Highlands. Blaine tipped his head to get a different view of Janie; she’d make quite a good Highland lass, actually. More of the get-in-amongst-it type. And get-underneath-you type? Blaine closed his eyes. He needed a dunk in a Highland stream; ice water like that would sort him out.
He tried reciting lines from the next season of The Highlander’s Cure in his head, but that was no help at all. The next season saw him getting dark and dirty with an English nobleman’s daughter. The thought of playing out the scene with Janie sent a prickle of excitement into his bloodstream. No touching—you signed Stephanie’s contract remember. He blinked hard. He was on a retreat, and she was here on the trip of a lifetime. He would relax, that was it, end of story.
The motor eased up, and the noise dropped as Tuan nudged them through a shallow area. “Thanks for coming with me today,” she said over the low motor and the slap of the ocean against the paint-flecked hull.
“No problem.”
“I mean it. I’m the organized one. Usually. But things have been….difficult.” She laughed. “Okay, more than difficult, more like water in the tank and a python in the driver’s seat. I’m here now, so perhaps life’s going to sort it all out.”
Her smile was bright, too bright, and Blaine’s interested was piqued. Here she was, putting her heart on her
sleeve even though she had no idea how much she was sharing. There was darkness there, a hurt that hadn’t healed yet. He was an expert at recognizing those after years of scraping his brother off the bottom of a bottle of whiskey when his hurt got too spiky.
“Don’t fret, lass. I’m on holiday. No plans. This is good way to spend the day. Grand even.” He really wasn’t doing anything else today. Or tomorrow, or the next day. And there wasn’t any press about. Not anyone from the UK. If he was helping her out being her pretend partner while they were at the resort, that would be okay. Chivalrous even. Wouldn’t it?
Tuan revved the engine again and increased the speed, making talking impossible. The hammering of the motor and the sun on his back lulled Blaine, made him want to purr like a cat. This was the most relaxed he’d felt in he couldn’t remember how long. But when he stole a glance at Janie, he had an overwhelming urge to stroke a stray strand of hair from her face. Whoa, lad. Chivalrous, remember. Oblivious, she was still animated, keenly watching the water and the small rocky islands flickering by, and the glee on her face was just…radiant. The absolute antithesis of Stephanie, of all the women in his world back home if he was honest.
Watching the world go by would be enough for the moment, because what a world it was. Small rocky outcrops burst out of the water, brilliant green vines and bushes perched in impossible places, and all about, the water, which was the most clear, glistening thing he had ever seen. Clearer even than the water around the Scottish Isle of Skye, which was saying something. Translucent but full of its own aquamarine color, the water was alive, a shimmering expanse that promised the most welcome swim of his life.
“Oh my goodness!” she shrieked and pointed. A turtle was clearly visible in the water, and it was a whopper.
The engine dulled, and ahead of them, Ko Phi Phi Leh opened out to showcase Maya Beach in her resplendent coral-coated, white-sanded finery: a perfect expanse of sparkling golden beach, surrounded on all sides by towering cliffs and nibbled at by the crystal-clear ocean. Blaine nodded. Yep, Danny Boyle had done well choosing this place to shoot his film.
Best part? The place was deserted, at least for the moment. Textbook romantic tropical island setting.
“Wow.” Janie seemed to be in agreement.
“You go.” The driver waved his arms at them as the boat bumped up onto the sandy beach.
Jump off and sweep her into your arms? Blaine couldn’t help the thought sneaking into his head. Nope. But her hint at something dark and painful had gotten to him. Making her feel a bit special wasn’t hurting anyone. He spotted a palm frond freshly fallen from one of the trees lining the beach. That’ll do it. Stepping from the boat he grabbed the palm frond and pulled a length off, twisting it up into a circle as Janie clambered out of the boat.
“Your Highness,” he said, and put it on Janie’s head like a crown. “Your kingdom awaits.” He’d meant it to be fun, cheesy, something to bring a smile to her face, and it did that in spades.
Janie snorted about as gracefully as a toddler with a booger. “Your Highness?” she said and snorted again. “I mean, it works with your accent. But I’m about as far from royalty as Boston with his tongue hanging out.”
Blaine grinned. “Too much?”
“A little, but don’t stop. You’ve got me feeling like a princess and this place…” She spun around on the beach, arms out like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music. “If there were hills instead of cliffs, you know what they’d be alive with?” She stopped spinning and gave a little curtsy.
“The sound of the firing squad trying to shoot us for our cheesy one-liners?”
Her laughter combined with the gentle hissing of the water on the sand echoing against the cliffs was enough to make the world seem even warmer.
Chapter Four
“Wow, or have I already said that?”
“Only ten times. Say it again. I’ve run out of other adjectives anyway.”
Janie looked at the man she’d met only the day before and couldn’t quite believe it.
When she’d brought her trip forward to escape Two-Minute Tom’s nuptials, she’d been bummed. Doing it now meant she could only be here for ten days instead of the month she’d dreamed of. Still, the timing was just right if you looked at it a different way. Bevan wouldn’t have been here if she’d come at a different time and—oh my eyes—she tried not to stare as he pulled off his T-shirt… that was worth at least three nights of vacation time.
“Swim before the masses arrive?” he asked, and she nodded, suddenly aware of the fact that she had to put her body on display just as much as he was. Well, not exactly as much; her swimsuit was practically from the fifties with the amount of skin that it covered.
She tugged her blouse and shorts off as quickly as she could and ran into the water, her mask and snorkel in hand. The faster she got in, the less of an eyeful he saw. But when she surfaced he didn’t seem put off by her overflowing curves. Quite the opposite in fact.
“Nice to meet a woman who likes to leave a little to the imagination,” he said. She wasn’t sure if it was his accent or not, but it made her sound sexy for covering up. Though he could have recited the alphabet and she’d probably have heard a sonnet. Who knew she had such a thing for Scottish men?
“Over there.” He pointed, and she saw a flash of brilliant yellow.
Standing waist-deep in the water, she pulled on the mask and snorkel, then ducked under the surface. A whole new world opened up to her. Gone was her awkwardness, her self-consciousness around Bevan. This was what she had come for. Spreading out like a centerfold in one of the National Geographic subscription magazines her mom had bought her, the sandy bay was alive with tropical fish and splashes of coral on the rocks that dotted the ocean floor a little farther out.
She took a deep breath and came up choking as the water got sucked into her snorkel.
Bevan was beside her in an instant.
“I’m okay,” she said, mostly to stop him thwacking her again with his overzealous back slap.
“Sorry. I thought you were choking.”
“I was,” she said, finally regaining her breath. “I forgot what the guy in the store said about blowing out through these things.”
Bevan gave her a huge smirk. “You’ve never snorkeled before?”
She shrugged. “Texas isn’t exactly known for its tropical ocean.”
His smile softened, but didn’t dim. “Neither is Scotland so there you go, we’re even. But I had a good teacher. You breathe through it normally,” he said as he came up behind her and put his arms around her to take the snorkel.
Stay still. If she did, his smooth chest would stay brushed against her back. Forget goose bumps—the guy made her nerves want to leap out her skin.
Bevan was clearly oblivious to the giant lust-bumps breaking out all over her and continued. “But when you dive under the water, the snorkel is going to fill up, so you have to blow hard when you resurface.” His hands guided the snorkel to her lips, and she felt obliged to bite down on the mouthpiece, even though the last thing she wanted to fill her mouth with was a stupid plastic pipe.
“Need me to hold your hand through it?”
She could feel the heat from his chest, and the fine hairs on her arms strained trying to touch him.
She spat the snorkel out. “Probably. I’m such a klutz at this sort of thing.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” he said, and Janie almost kicked herself for slipping into useless maiden mode.
“You’re right.” She turned so she was looking up at him. “I’m not a klutz. I can change a tractor carburetor at a hundred paces, not that my pop likes to admit it. But I’m not very good at snorkeling. So yes, please tell me again. Or better yet, show me.” She proffered the snorkel, but he gently folded her hand around it. “You’ve already got it. You just have to remember to puff air out when you go under. Or don’t go under and stay on the surface. Come on, last one to that rock is a month-old haggis.”
N
ot about to be compared to a pile of rotting innards, Janie pulled her mask down and stuffed the snorkel into her mouth and swam her steady, if inelegant, stroke out to the rock he’d taken off to.
Clambering up after him, she wondered if she was ever going to get a chance to look elegant around him. But all thought of elegance disappeared when he took her hand and gently pulled her down to sit next to him. She was either getting used to his touch, or the water had thrown his robo-circuits into turmoil, as the charge from his hand was less than it had been the day before. Sitting next to him, every fiber of her being wanted to rub itself over him like a cat. She settled for leaning against him and letting the warmth from his skin enter hers like so many sun-kissed afternoons.
Must be at least 85 percent interested.
A bead of water dripped off his hair onto his chest and made its way downward, slowly gathering momentum with gravity. If a magic genie had appeared and she’d had only one wish, it would have been to be that drop of water, no question.
He looked at her. Really looked at her. “Your hair looks lovely when it’s wet. No, that’s not true. It looks lovely all the time.”
Dear gawd, was he trying to explode her blood vessels?
She bit her lip and tried to shuffle closer without being obvious. Instead, she scraped her ass on the sharp rock through her thin swimsuit.
Don’t show that it hurts, don’t show it.
“You were right about coming here,” he said. “This place is amazing. Not just postcard-perfect, it’s lifetime-perfect.”
The rest of Janie’s bodily functions deserted her, and she leaned in. This was it, surely—the cue for the kiss.
“Bollocks. We’ve got company.”
Damn. She straightened. “Oh well. That was going to happen eventually.”
“Still, I’d rather not share you.”
Stop it, stop it, stop it. Janie’s heart was trying its best to end her with a rate that would probably have alarmed any cardiologist worth their salt. “But we can’t go back yet. It’s too early.” And I haven’t gotten you over the line to interested 100 percent.
Her Scottish Mistake (A Perfect Escape) Page 3