Stranded by Pelaam
$2.99
Romance on the Go ®
Talented landscape gardener Rylan just had his world turned upside down.
He’s been forced to work for a beast of a man called Tudor West when his brother kills one of the TV personality’s prize orchids due to his negligence.
But Tudor’s reputation seems a little exaggerated once away from cameras and bright lights, and Rylan finds himself more than a little attracted to this version.
However, when a misunderstanding puts Rylan in danger, can he put his trust in the man he thinks betrayed his trust?
Be Warned: m/m sex
Excerpt:
Rylan waited with his back to the helicopter and watched as Eirian came jogging back toward them. He came straight to Rylan.
“I don’t know if this will help you, but I use it a lot. Rescue Remedy. Take a couple of the pastilles. I use them on longer flights. I have confidence in Tudor and in Bob, the co-pilot, but I get nervous on longer flights.”
“Thanks.” Rylan used the lozenges himself when anxious, and popped a couple into his mouth.
Eirian handed him the tin. “Keep hold of them. Just in case.” He winked at Rylan before settling himself in the back of the helicopter.
Rylan slipped the tin into his pocket and then watched while Eirian buckled himself in place, appearing to be completely at home.
“You ready?” Tudor called over.
Rylan nodded. “Yep. I’m good.” Rylan squared his shoulders and strode over to Tudor. “Ready when you are.”
“Bob will sit next to Eirian. You sit there. Next to me. I’ll help you get buckled in.”
“Okay.” Rylan followed Tudor to the helicopter’s passenger seat and sat in it as Tudor directed. Tudor leaned in close, fussing with the belt to secure Rylan and placing the earphones. Rylan inhaled deeply. Tudor smelled of heat and something musky. Whatever the cologne was, it suited Tudor perfectly.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” Rylan coughed to clear his throat. A mix of nerves and low-grade arousal made him sound slightly breathless.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.” Tudor’s breath was warm against Rylan’s cheek, and Rylan had an almost irresistible desire to turn his head, convinced if he did Tudor would kiss him. Instead, he resolutely stared ahead.
“There’s really no need. I’m okay now.” Irritated with his body’s responses to Tudor’s proximity, Rylan snapped the words, but Tudor only grinned as he moved away.
With his earphones securely in place, Rylan didn’t immediately notice the sound of the rotor blade, but the helicopter shuddered before rising into the air. Eirian and the co-pilot were chatting continually. Rylan tried—and failed miserably—to tune into what they were saying, and not what was happening. His heart hammered, and he swallowed hard.
“You’re safe, Rylan. I give you my word. I’m an accomplished pilot, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Rylan looked across at Tudor, who glanced quickly in his direction before focusing ahead.
The way Tudor spoke, more than what he said, helped calm Rylan down from the impending panic attack. But he still popped another couple of the Rescue Remedy lozenges. Then he nodded. It was just a thirty-minute flight, conditions were good. For fuck’s sake, people do this for fun. “I’m okay now. Thanks.”
“Good.” Tudor’s voice still held a quality Rylan couldn’t define but left him half-hard whenever Tudor used it. “I’m expanding my communication to include Eirian and Bob. Hey, Eirian, why not tell Rylan of your cooking catastrophes so he knows what to expect from the kitchen for the next few weeks. You know, a mix of burnt offerings and raw and sunken soufflés.”
“Oh, har, har.” Eirian made a rude noise and Rylan laughed despite himself. “Well, the lord and master over there can’t even boil an egg, so don’t think you can fall back on him at any time. You’re on your own if you don’t eat my food.”
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as Tudor makes it sound.” Rylan turned slightly and smiled at the blond who pouted and still managed to look drop-dead gorgeous.
“Well, I did have a soufflé catastrophe. It came out resembling a pancake. Still don’t know what happened.”
“What did you do?” Rylan was intrigued. It seemed to Rylan that Eirian was a talented cook, even if his soufflé sank.
“Whipped up several real pancakes, sautéed meat and veggies, whisked up a white sauce. Then I filled the pancakes with the meat and sauce and served them as if that had been my plan all along.”
“They sound delicious.” Rylan got a sudden desire for pancakes.
“They were.” Tudor’s voice came through. “In fact, I have a hankering for pancakes for lunch.” He made a loud smacking noise with his lips.
“Oh, yes?” Eirian cut in. “Suddenly my cooking’s not so bad, hmm?”
“It never was. But even the best slip up now and again.” Tudor chuckled. A rich, deep sound that made Rylan’s cock sit up and take notice. “What about you, Rylan? Fancy that?”
“Yes.” Rylan coughed to rid his voice of its sudden breathless quality. “Yes, I do. I rarely get to indulge. In food like that, I mean.” Rylan felt his cheeks heat and he hoped Tudor was far too busy flying the helicopter to notice.
“We’ll have to change that. I want you to indulge fully while you’re with me.”
“Thank you.” Rylan tried not to squirm. But that proved difficult when caught between a mix of arousal and embarrassment, both of which went up several notches at the deep, seductive chuckle from Tudor.
The rest of the journey passed uneventfully in a mix of funny anecdotes and stories from Eirian, and the odd comment here and there from Tudor. To his surprise, Rylan found himself relaxing, and he even enjoyed the rest of the flight.
All Rylan had to do now was get through the next few weeks without making a fool of himself over the dangerously attractive Tudor West.
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