Beyond Romance: Even though she knew he was a scoundrel... #NewRelease #Yorkshire #MFRWHooks

Welcome to this week’s MFRW Book Hooks blog hop. Today I’m celebrating another new release, a short contemporary erotic romance with a bit of light bondage entitled Getaway Girl. This is one of the first romance stories I wrote. Now it has been sliced, diced and given a new lease on life.

Check it out! All the buy links can be found at https://www.lisabetsarai.com/getawaygirlbook.html

Blurb

Be careful what you wish for

All Peg wants is a break, a bit of adventure, a relief from her mundane existence in the bucolic but boring Yorkshire hamlet of Kirkby Malzeard. When dashing, sophisticated journalist Lionel Hayes saunters into the pub where she's tending bar, Peg suspects that he was just the sort of man to fulfill her fantasies of escape.

The seductive Lionel, however, is not what he seems. Before she knows it, Peg is a hostage, roped and gagged, speeding away from the scene of a daring crime. Lionel is armed and dangerous, but somehow Peg still wants him – regardless of the consequences.

The Hook

“Freeze! Don’t make a move, chickie, or that pretty face of yours will be splattered all over the mirror.”

“What?… Who?”

The guy pointing the gun at her was a complete stranger. He had greasy blond hair and a pointy face that reminded Peg of the rats she sometimes saw in the dustbin behind the pub. He dropped his heavy-looking duffel onto the floor, kicked the door shut, and aimed the revolver with both hands.

“Shut up. Back up to the bar. Slowly. Put your hands on your head.”

Peg couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

“Now! Before I get annoyed. I just shot that idiot guard, don’t think I won’t shoot you, too.”

Guard? Did he mean Rodney? Oh, God!

The door opened once more. Peg was about to yell for help, but the scream died in her throat. Into the pub, lugging an identical bag and breathing heavily, walked Lionel.

“Hey, Jack. There’s no need to talk so roughly to the lady. I’m sure that Margaret will help us. Won’t you, darling?”

Everything became crystal clear. “I—you—you bloody liar! You crook!”

“Now, Peg, be reasonable. I thought that you liked me.”

“You slimy toad, you took advantage…”

“Stow it,” Jack snarled. Lionel smiled, half apologetic, half mocking. Then he turned, put out the ‘Closed’ sign, and locked the door.

Peg’s phone lay on the bar, just two feet from where she stood. She lunged for the device, but Lionel was quicker. Snatching it up, he slipped it into his jacket pocket.

“Come on, Peg. You’re smarter than that. Smart enough to know that you’ll be better off if you cooperate.”

“Cooperate how?”

Jack scowled. “We need a place to hide out. Somewhere quiet and out of the way, where the cops won’t think to look.” He strode over and pressed the gun barrel to Peg’s temple. “You got any ideas?”

Peg gave Lionel a desperate look. He shrugged. “It will go easier for you if you help us. We need to go to ground, fast.”

“I can’t think with that thing pointed at my head. Tell him to put it away.”

Lionel nodded at Jack, who lowered the gun but still kept it trained on her. She racked her brain, trying to come up with a plan, some way she could escape and raise the alarm. Lionel watched her, a half-smile playing on his sumptuous lips. Damn, even though she knew he was a scoundrel, he still attracted her. He reminded her, just a bit, of Gary, the wicked, red-headed teenager from the States that she’d fallen for, ages ago, at her grandmother’s place…

That was it! Gran’s little house would seem like the perfect place for them to hide. Meanwhile, she’d have the advantage of being on familiar territory.

“There’s a cottage, northwest of here, where we used to go on holiday. It belonged to my grandmother. No one’s lived there for several years now. The country’s very wild, and it’s the only house for several miles around.”

“Sounds perfect.” Lionel was trying to reassure her. “How far is it?”

“I’m not sure. Less than two hours, certainly. You take the A65 from Skipton, then get onto the M6, but not for long. Most of the trip is on back roads, which is why— ”

“You’ll show us,” interrupted Jack. “Bert, find some rope or something. She looks like a strong girl. We don’t want no problems with her.”

Bert?

Lionel disappeared into the back of the pub. Peg could hear him rummaging around in the storeroom. Before long he was back, holding up the ball of twine they used to secure cardboard for recycling, and a pair of scissors. “This should be acceptable. And there’s a back door and a path that leads right to the field where we parked. No one will see us leave.”

Jack grunted his approval. “You tie her. Gag her, too. I’ll cover you.”

Lionel motioned Peg to one of the benches. “Sit down, and put your ankles together.” Peg obeyed, moving as slowly as she could. She figured that every minute she could delay them increased the chances of rescue. The counterfeit journalist knelt in front of her and began to wind the twine around her ankles. Once again she could smell that cologne of his, the breath of fir trees on some distant mountain. Her nipples tightened. Her contempt for him did not seem to affect her physical responses.

He hardly touched her, but every time he did, she shivered, whether from fear or desire she truly couldn’t tell. He felt it, though, and looked up, searching her face. She looked away, pointedly focusing on the revolver aimed at her heart.