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Ryanair’s 10.10 a.m.

At Carcassonne, all Paul Brusseque knows, as he boards a Ryanair flight he’s managed to find the fare for, is that there’s this hot chick in England who’s occupied his thoughts most of the time. Yeah, so she’s married, but so what – from what he can deduce from the little information she’s given him about husband and home, he reckons it must be on the rocks. Or else wide open. Something like that. Whatever. If she’s up for some no-strings action, he isn’t going to get his morals in a knot about it.

Tix. She had said something about sending him tix 2 uk. But she’s a tease, this Alice Heggarty, a playful, tease of a flirt. Her text sex has tantalized him to distraction, to desiring the real thing enough to go for broke and board a plane for it. So he’s her bit on the side, her bit of rough, her toyboy, her big boy, her fantasy incarnate. So what. It’s a damn sight better than being a boring old fart of a husband who most likely can’t satisfy her or probably cheats on her the whole time anyway. Is he in love with her? The husband? He’d be a crazy fucker not to be. Is Paul in love with her? Or is he just crazy about fucking her? Crazy enough to scrounge two days’ leave and scrape together an air fare to surprise her. Sit back and enjoy the flight. But it’s cool to go with the flow. It would be boring to always let your head rule your heart.

Freya North 3-Book Collection: Love Rules, Home Truths, Pillow Talk

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