Secrets Dispatched Page 11

  She found an area of grass in the sunshine and settled down on it to read about her latest sex on legs hero and how he managed to convince his lady that he wanted her. Within minutes, Debra was engrossed. As a child she’d often been chastised for being oblivious to everything other than her book when she was reading.

  Today was no exception. It wasn’t until the sun moved behind the trees and she was sitting in the shade that Debra realized how much time had passed.

  The occupants of the park had changed. To one side, a tai chi lesson was in process and the jogging track was much busier. Debra checked her watch and groaned. She’d been oblivious for well over an hour and undoubtedly ought to move and think about getting ready for dinner.

  Getting up wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped. Sitting in one position for so long had given her pins and needles and she winced at the pain.

  I don’t mind nice stings and tingles, well I didn’t, but hey, it’s been so long, who knows? But this is bloody agony. She rubbed her legs and wriggled her toes to get the circulation back to normal.

  Debra collected her belongings and made her way across the grass towards the entrance to the park. To get there she had to cross the jogging track and dodge the joggers. Their numbers had increased considerably now and Debra waited to let a steady stream of people of all shapes and sizes go by. One guy, tall, fit and blond hair, caught her eye and her heart did a weird double pitter pat.

  It was the guy from the hotel. No snazzy suit, but black running shorts and a black sleeveless vest that shouted serious runner to her. As he approached along the track, she couldn’t help but admire—and drool at—the way he moved. His short hair had curled in the heat and the sheen of sweat over his body highlighted the muscles in his arms and the strength of his legs. She’d bet he had a washboard stomach and a cute ass.

  Dammit, cease and desist drooling, woman, you’ll embarrass yourself. Nevertheless, she took a step back to wait for him to pass.

  There was a grunt of pain from behind her. Deb turned to see an elderly lady, with perfectly coiffed white hair and wearing an elegant linen suit, rub her ankle.

  “Oh, heavens, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching what I was doing. Have I hurt you badly?” Debra was appalled at her clumsiness. First day there and injuring the natives wasn’t a good start.

  The lady laughed. “Don’t worry, no lasting damage and I wasn’t paying attention either. I was waiting for Gorgeous George to go by.” She inclined her head towards the guy who was a few yards away.

  “George?”

  The lady rolled her eyes. “No idea if that’s his name, but he sure is gorgeous. Sexy Steve, Hot Bod Harry, take your pick. I see him most evenings and it makes my day.” She waved at the man who grinned and waved back, before he slowed to almost a halt.

  “Hi, gorgeous, you ready to run away with me yet?”

  The lady cackled. “I’m too much of a woman for you, honey.”

  “Too true, my loss.” He looked straight at Debra and winked. “How about it?”

  Deb bit back a snigger. “Depends what ‘it’ you mean.” She blushed. Was she actually bandying innuendo with a stranger? A much younger than her stranger. Her kids would be horrified. Tough, it’s only a ships that pass in the night thing.

  He jogged in a circle. “Up to you, honey.” He waved, increased his speed and moved away.

  The older lady sighed. “See what I mean? Fit as hell. I think Gorgeous George has the hots for you. The Jie Jies will be disappointed.”

  “The what?” Debra hadn’t heard that expression before.

  “Jie Jies, sisters, people who look after the family. Like Ayis, or Amahs. It’s a very Hong Kong expression. My Jie Jie was a darling. Ah well, back to my Angus and a cuddle. He might not be as slim as Georgie boy, but he won’t wear me out. Mind you our Mr Mysterious does make me quiver and even wonder if I could take up jogging at my advanced age.”

  Debra knew just what she meant. Trust her to fancy a fitness freak. Debra was the first to admit that her idea of fitness was to abstain from eating three extra chocolate biscuits and run up the stairs rather than walk.

  She sighed. Ah well, she knew what the lady meant about having her day made. There was no two ways about it, the guy was sex on legs and the sort of man to make you roll over and shout ‘play your cards right and you can have me’.

  With a mental shrug at her fanciful notions, she took her life into her hands to cross the road and dodge pedestrians, cars and trams, and walk back to the hotel. As if someone like that would pay more than passing attention to a middle-aged overweight lady who could give him several years. Let alone listen to her telling him to play his cards right.

  Oh well, I can dream. But dreaming led to a damp crotch and a need for relief. Debra made her way into her suite, dragged her clothes off and indulged in a well needed self-induced orgasm that left her hot, sweaty and pleased that she was gifted with a great imagination. Her mystery man had featured heavily, as she used her hands to tease her clit and fall over the edge.

  Never had a shower been so welcome. Debra let the lukewarm water stream over her, soaking her hair and body, and reveled in the tingles that still shook her.

  The water stung her climax-sensitive skin as she rubbed shower gel over herself. It was worth it and in lieu of the real thing, not half bad.

  Her tummy rumbled to remind her not to linger. Debra switched off the shower and toweled herself dry. It didn’t take long to dress and with her laptop under her arm, she made her way to the residents’ lounge for a welcome cocktail.

  She couldn’t help the way she scanned the room to see if a certain blond head stood out from the mix of people seated there.

  It didn’t. The lump of disappointment that hit her like a lead weight was way too over the top for such a few brief glimpses of someone who, for all she knew, could be a serial axe murderer.

  Ah well, obviously not a guest any longer. If he had been in the first place. Grow up and get over it. And quit thinking worst case scenarios. He might have been an eccentric millionaire on his way to Bora Bora or somewhere exotic, with a harem and thirteen Chihuahuas waiting for him in that stretch limo I saw in the street.

  The thought amused her all the way through her rum punch and dumpling nibbles, as she listened to an amazing duo playing and singing popular classics.

  It put her in a great mood as she elected to eat in the lounge and not bother with the dining room. It was one of the bonuses of an executive suite and she might as well enjoy it. The room was small and intimate and probably less intimidating to eat in alone.

  Not that it bothered Debra overmuch. As ever she had her laptop to write her diary on and catch up with her emails and her eReader with whatever she fancied reading at the ready.

  It didn’t stop her taking a surreptitious glance at every new occupant. None were tall, blond and drop dead gorgeous.

  Debra put him out of her mind and enjoyed her chicken and rice instead. Combined with a good dry Australian white wine and rounded off by fruit, she felt nicely full but not stuffed. Declining a liqueur or coffee, Debra took herself back to her suite. It had been a long day.

  It became even longer. So sure that she’d be tired and want an early night, Debra had clambered into bed before ten and turned the light off by half past. To lie awake with her mind buzzing.

  Half an hour later, she accepted that sleep wasn’t on her agenda any time soon and got out of bed and slipped on her sundress. She’d take herself up to the garden and spend a few minutes looking at the city by night. Maybe some fresh air and a circuit of the walking path would make her sleepy.

  The corridor was quiet and the lift arrived within seconds. Not much more than ten minutes since she’d thrown back the duvet, Debra opened the door to the terrace. The area was dimly lit with just enough light to show where the paths and flowerbeds were.

  She took a deep breath to savor the night-scented flowers and the warm air. From the street below, a car honked its horn and engines revved. The
clatter of a tram drifted up to where Debra stared over the parapet.

  The water of the harbor shone in the moonlight and the lights of the boats twinkled and shared their positions with each other. High above, a plane headed toward the airport and as more often than not, the Peak was shrouded in cloud.

  Debra acknowledged that there and then, she was at peace with the world. Maybe it was her earlier climax, maybe it was the thought that she would soon see her family again, but she had a perfect sense of contentment.

  She turned towards the pool area and leaned on the gate to look over into the water.

  The gate opened and nearly deposited her knees first on the floor. Either the lock was faulty, or someone hadn’t turned the key, because it stated in the hotel information booklet that the pool was locked from dusk to dawn.

  Tonight it wasn’t.

  Debra bit her lip and considered her options. On the one hand it should be locked and she didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. On the other, it was hot and sticky, the humidity seemed to have descended with dusk and she hadn’t kicked over the traces since the belly dancing and… She shut that thought off.

  Sod it, I always said I wanted to swim at midnight. Actually she’d said from a beach at midnight, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and it was a perfect opportunity. Debra looked down at her sundress. She wasn’t subjecting it to chlorine, but her underwear maybe. Before she had time to change her mind she pulled the dress over her head, flung it on a nearby chair, kicked off her flip-flops and dived in.

  Into water as soft as silk and as warm as a perfect bath.

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  About the Author

  A multi-published author of erotic romance, Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.

  She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge. As once she is writing she is oblivious to everything else, her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.

  Email: ravenmcallan@hotmail.co.uk

  Raven loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.

  Also by Raven McAllan

  Diomhair: Secrets Shared

  Diomhair: Secrets Uncovered

  Diomhair: Secrets Remembered

  Totally Bound Publishing