by Sasha Morgan
Dylan closed and opened his eyes. Was this really happening?
‘Come, come, this way, lovie.’ Dickie then put his hand on his back and practically pushed him into a small, bright room, where apparently, ‘Tamsin was going to touch him up’. Dylan assumed he meant make-up, but on seeing Tamsin he was open to offers.
Tamsin smiled widely and held out a large brush. ‘Let’s apply,’ she said cheerily and patted the chair in front of her. ‘Make yourself comfortable, Dylan.’
Dylan plonked himself down and winced at the bright bulbs surrounding the huge mirror directly opposite him. Suddenly a massive pair of boobs faced him, nearly taking his eyes out. Tamsin was examining his hair, pulling at it from all angles. ‘We’ll just freshen this up a bit.’ She bent down to look at him. ‘I’ll give you a good blow.’ Dylan stared back, speechless. The next thing Tamsin set about him with a super-strength hair dryer, pushing his curls into place. ‘Right now, let’s look at skin tone.’ She moved closer, giving him a close-up of her cleavage. Dylan struggled to keep a straight face when seeing a cotton wool bud had lodged down there. ‘Hmm, let’s see…’ she moved his face back and forth, ‘I’d say medium to dark, wouldn’t you?’
‘I’m in your hands,’ he smiled back.
Unscrewing a white pot, Tamsin delved her fingers inside and started smearing Dylan’s face with it.
‘Just to give you a bit of colour,’ she explained, her chest shoving into him, ‘to make you stand out.’ Dylan was already starting to stand out. ‘Now then, let’s get those beautiful blue eyes to shine.’ She held a blue eyeliner; Dylan leant back a little. ‘Don’t be alarmed, I’m just going to gently stroke…’ she bent down again; Dylan sat still, ‘the insides of your eyes.’ He could feel her breath on his face as she lightly swept the pencil along the edge of his eyes. She had beautiful blue eyes, too, and full voluptuous lips. He glanced down her top again. ‘Right, face done, now for the body,’ she beamed.
‘Sorry?’
‘We’ll need to give you a bit of colour there, too.’
‘Pardon?’
‘It’s a shower scene. You’ll be wearing only a towel.’ She spoke very matter-of-factly. ‘Didn’t Dickie mention it?’
‘No… he just said I’d look amazing,’ Dylan replied faintly. Tamsin gave him the once-over and licked her lips.
‘I’m sure you will,’ she winked.
Damn Connor, thought Dylan as he stood butt naked, save for a small, blue towel only just managing to cover his modesty. Never any mention of this, he cursed under his breath.
‘OK, let’s roll, Dylan. So you’ve just come out of the shower, you make your way into the bedroom, pick up the bottle of aftershave, splash it all over and say…’
‘Never be pipped at the post,’ quoted Dylan through clenched teeth.
‘Oooh, a bit livelier, lovie!’ chirped Dickie, clapping his hands, ‘and then, you turn to camera three for that all-important close up and say…’
‘I always win, wearing Racer,’ Dylan supplied.
‘That’s it!’ Dickie clapped his hands again, ‘and what do you do for that final shot?’
‘Wink,’ replied Dylan flatly.
‘Magic!’ Dickie bellowed.
Tamsin was on hand with her brushes, powders and creams, ready to go at him in between takes. The lights burnt into his skin, making him perspire. Tamsin saw to that too, patting him down with towels and reapplying the toner.
Finally it was over. Dylan had given the performance of his life, for the whole two minutes the advert played for.
‘It’s a wrap!’ yelled Dickie, signalling all to pack up and go. Dylan was back in the make-up room, having Tamsin clean all the caked up foundation off his face. What an ordeal. Never again. The only consolation was the money he’d made for a few hours’ work – that, and Tamsin’s chest, which had been a welcome comfort.
‘You were fantastic, Dylan,’ she said, rubbing hard at his face.
‘Thanks.’
‘Are you heading straight back home?’ Her eye caught his and she gave him a sexy smirk.
‘Not sure,’ he answered, stalling for time.
‘I’m meeting a friend later. She’s a big fan of yours.’
‘Is she?’ He could feel something start to stir.
‘Yes, she’d love to meet you. Why not join us for dinner?’ She winked at him again.
‘Well, if you insist.’ Maybe it hadn’t been too bad a day after all.
Chapter 33
Megan had been painting all morning and had finally finished the watercolour. Although she was pleased with the result, she was still a little hesitant to show it to Tobias. All morning she had been thinking about Ted. It was hard to believe he was her grandfather, yet that was undoubtedly what he was. Megan was left to contemplate whether her mum ought to know the truth, too. Surely she had every right to know her true parentage and, in all honesty, Megan resented having inherited the dilemma.
Tobias had been an absolute rock of support. He had shown nothing but kindness and patience. He had always made his attraction towards her clear, but had never pushed or forced her in any way. Megan’s insides tingled at the flashbacks of yesterday’s picnic. Even then he had shown constraint, whereas she would have lost herself in his arms. Despite her experience with Adam and all the warnings she’d tried to give herself, it was futile. She was falling for Tobias. He was so handsome, caring, good fun, and her body ached for his. How could she not?
She packed up her things and waited for the painting to dry before placing her picture in a carry case. Today she had walked to the estate rather than take her car. A footpath running from the back of the cottages led to the grounds of Treweham Hall.
She had borrowed a chair from the summerhouse and was returning it when she overheard voices coming from inside. Pausing, she waited before opening the glass door. She recognised one of the voices. It was Nick’s.
‘What was I supposed to do? You nearly ran into her, for God’s sake. You were driving like a lunatic!’
‘And why’s that?’ came a rasped reply. Megan shot to the side of the door out of sight.
‘Look, I’m sorry, Seb, please.’ Megan froze. She could just about make out the two figures through the gap in the glass door. Nick stood in front of a blond-haired man: she recognised Tobias’ brother from the pub.
‘You let her believe it was Tobias. How could you?’
‘Because I care about you.’ Nick’s voice grew softer, deeper. Megan’s eyes widened when she saw the two men embrace and share a long, tender kiss. Gulping, she dropped the chair on the grass and hurried home.
Nick and Sebastian? Kissing? Her mind spun. But Nick had had a fling with Finula and he’d flirted with her, too… Realisation dawned: he must be bisexual. And it must have been Sebastian driving the car that night, and Nick deliberately led her to believe it was Tobias.
Megan was still in shock later that day when working at The Templar. She was itching to speak to Finula, but they had been so busy behind the bar. Finally a quiet spell descended, and Megan grasped the moment.
‘Finula, can I tell you something?’
‘Sure, what is it?’ Finula was wiping down the bar and collecting glasses.
‘I saw Nick and Tobias’ brother in the summerhouse at Treweham Hall. They were kissing.’
Finula looked straight at her, opened her mouth to speak and was interrupted by a customer. Damn, thought Megan, wishing their shift would hurry up and finish. She was frantic to learn what Finula knew.
At last it was closing time. Locking the door after the last customer, Finula beckoned Megan over to sit by the inglenook fire.
‘Nick and I went out together for a few months last year. It was good in the beginning. He was very attentive, made me feel special. Then came the tell-tale signs.’
‘What do you mean?’ Megan sat forward slightly.
‘I’d notice him looking at other people – men, as well as women. I saw the way he looked at Sebastian. We all suspected
Sebastian was gay – not that it mattered. Then I found a magazine in his car. We’d been out for the day, and as he was paying for petrol at the garage I had a nosy inside his glove compartment. A semi-naked man from the front cover of a magazine stared back at me. I quickly put it back.’
‘Really?’ gasped Megan.
Finula nodded and continued. ‘Then it all came to a head one night when Nick got drunk. He got nasty, saying how inhibited I was. I retaliated, so he got nastier. Afterwards he was sorry, but I’ve never forgotten the things he said.’ She shivered in disgust.
‘What?’ whispered Megan.
‘He proposed a threesome,’ replied Finula coolly.
‘You’re joking! The cheeky swine.’ Megan was dumbfounded.
‘Denied all knowledge the next day when he was sober, but it was the end. I never dated him again.’
‘Don’t blame you. Does Tobias know about this?’
‘Yes. I told him. Not long after Nick and I finished, he started seeing Sebastian, on the hush-hush. Only me and Tobias sussed out what was going on. The relationship’s been on and off for months.’
‘But Nick’s… quite flirty… he’s—’
‘A bisexual slag,’ Finula finished with bitterness in her voice.
Megan found it hard to take in. Who would have thought this sleepy Cotswolds village held such secrets? The next-door neighbour really being her granddad; Sebastian being the driver who nearly killed her; and now the local vet, who preferred ham and cheese on his toasties!
Chapter 34
After Dylan had spoken to Seamus, he was resolute: he intended to go ahead with his plans for the training yard. Seamus had been quite surprised by Dylan’s proposal at first. However, after listening to his friend and what he had to say about his father, although put as diplomatically as it had been, he could read between the lines. Seamus had also spotted Dylan’s buoyant spirit again, something that had been sadly lacking of late. Watching his face light up as he outlined his ideas, he saw the old Dylan return.
‘I wish you all the best, mate. Seriously, I admire you.’
‘You sure? How do you think your father will react?’
Seamus shook his head. ‘Couldn’t care less. Listen, Dylan, nobody knows more than me how hard he is to work with. I really don’t blame you for starting out on your own.’
‘Thanks, mate.’ Dylan shook his hand.
He had arranged to see Tobias at Treweham Hall to discuss renovating the old stable block to meet the British Horseracing Authority’s requirements. He had to prove to them that the premises and facilities were in full working order to train racehorses. He also had to apply to the BHA for a licence. This involved demonstrating he was fit and proper, with honesty and integrity. He paused when reading this stipulation. That bloody tabloid would hardly help his cause, but he was renowned for his care of horses, unlike some jockeys who had been suspended for overuse of the whip.
Dylan was geared up and excitement ran through his blood, building adrenaline, something he hadn’t felt for weeks. More than anything he longed to see Flora, tell her about his plans, ask her to join him in running a top-class training yard, to share his ambition. Was he being corny? So what? He was past caring. It had been six weeks since he had last seen Flora and every day she had haunted his mind.
At Treweham Hall’s door he was greeted by Henry, who showed him into Tobias’ study.
‘Good to see you, Dylan.’ Tobias was at his desk, the draft plans for the yard spread out before him. Dylan went straight over to survey them. His eyes narrowed, taking in all the details.
‘I need more stables. I want to be training at least ten horses, plus I’d need an office on site.’
Tobias nodded. ‘That can be arranged.’
‘There’s plenty of space, that’s the main thing.’ He looked out of the window behind Tobias. ‘All this land is ideal.’
‘It certainly is. Plus with the kudos of the Treweham Hall estate, you shouldn’t have too much difficulty in pulling custom your way.’
‘You’re right there. I’ve put a few feelers out and it all looks promising. Not sure how Sean Fox will react, though.’ Dylan looked wary.
Tobias shrugged. ‘Shouldn’t have too much of an impact on his yard. It’s been established for years. What did Seamus say?’
‘Wished me all the best.’
‘Good. I’ve a few contacts that might be interested.’
‘Thanks.’ There was something he needed to run past Tobias that he’d been delaying. ‘Tobias, about my assistant trainer…’
Tobias looked up. ‘Yes?’
‘I’m going to approach Flora.’
‘Flora?’
‘She works in your stables,’ Dylan answered with a slight edge. Didn’t he know his own staff? Especially given the amount of time and commitment she showed.
‘Oh, yes, very good with the horses.’ Then Tobias frowned. ‘But how do you know her?’
‘I… I… met her when looking round your stables.’
Tobias smiled wryly. ‘I see.’ An awkward few seconds passed for Dylan.
‘You don’t mind, do you?’
‘Not if you think she has potential. I can soon find another stable hand.’
‘Good. Good. Right then, I’ll… I’ll put it to her.’
Tobias grinned. ‘You do that, Dylan.’ Dylan coughed and made a hasty departure. Tobias laughed to himself: still the same old Dylan deep down.
Flora had just finished riding Juke and was unsaddling him. Dylan approached her from behind, making her jump.
‘Sorry, Flora, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ He smiled, looking into her fresh, rosy complexion. How he’d missed her. Her hair had grown slightly, giving it a tousled look, and he longed to brush it away from her face.
‘What do you want, Dylan?’ she asked flatly, refusing to give him eye contact, but instead carried on tending to the horse.
‘A minute of your time,’ he answered.
‘I’m busy, in case you haven’t noticed.’
‘Please, Flora,’ he pleaded.
Turning to him, she saw his blue eyes filled with hope, which sparked her curiosity. Flora had thought of Dylan often – too often, if she was being honest with herself. Initially she had been heartbroken by his actions, but then pure anger had taken over. Now after six weeks of not seeing him she hated to admit it, but she had actually missed him. Keeping herself busy had helped, and there was always something to do in the stables.
‘I can’t speak now, Dylan, I’m working.’ The corners of Dylan’s mouth twitched. That had never bothered her before when they had romped in the hay.
‘Of course. Let’s have dinner,’ he held his hands out in surrender, ‘as friends. There’s something I’d like to ask you.’
Now she was more than curious. ‘OK. Meet me in The Templar at seven.’
‘Done.’ He held his hand out to shake hers, anything to touch her. She gave him a withering look and ignored it. Turning her back on him, she proceeded to take off the horse’s saddle and barged past him into the stables. What a woman, thought Dylan, wanting the evening to arrive quickly.
Later that evening, Flora dressed carefully for dinner. Not wanting to appear keen, yet still sexy was proving to be a difficult task. Finally she plumped for skinny jeans and a red sleeveless top with a neckline low enough to show a glimpse of cleavage, without showcasing too much. She wore her hair down, freshly washed and scrunched dried. Entering The Templar, she saw Dylan at the bar talking to Finula and caught her breath. He looked stunning in his dark suit, which matched his black curls, and a blue shirt the same colour as his eyes. Suddenly she felt underdressed in her jeans.
Turning to see her, Dylan leapt up from the bar stool and greeted her. ‘Flora, you look beautiful.’ He took her hand and kissed it.
‘Don’t overdo it, Dylan,’ she replied drily, commending herself for such composure.
Finula beamed at the pair of them. ‘This way. I’ve reserved one of our best tables
for you.’ She led them towards the restaurant area, to a secluded alcove. A table for two was prepared with a lit candle and champagne on ice. Flora was impressed, but refused to show it. ‘I’ll take your order shortly.’ Finula smiled at Flora as she eased her into a chair, then deftly opened the champagne and left them. Dylan poured them each a glass. The bubbles fizzed up Flora’s nose, making her splutter. So much for the composure, she cursed herself.
‘Flora, I’ve got a proposition for you.’ Dylan stared intently into her eyes, then outlined his plans to open a training yard at Treweham Hall and asked her to be his assistant trainer.
Flora was gobsmacked. She took another gulp of champagne to stall for time. Eventually she spoke. ‘But I don’t know what being an assistant trainer entails.’
Dylan, anticipating this response, was quick to reply. ‘Basically, it would mean being my right-hand man. You would plan the horses’ training schedules and be in charge of the stable staff. You’ve got a way with horses, an instinct. I’ve seen how they respond to you. You’ve also got a way with people.’ He looked deep into her eyes. ‘You care. You’re a sincere person and I trust you. The rest you can learn from me.’ He sat back and waited for her answer. He sensed her hesitation and added, ‘Give it some thought. Promise me you’ll at least think about it. And I know it’s not about the money, but I am offering a competitive wage.’
He was right, conceded Flora, it wasn’t about the money, more about working so closely alongside the man himself. Would she be able to resist those dark, gypsy looks every day? Feeling those piercing ocean-blue eyes burn into her? Seeing those capable hands at work, knowing how they had roamed over her body? ‘I’ll think about it,’ she answered in a cracked voice.
Dylan slowly smiled: he’d done it. The charm had worked. Now all he needed to do was back off a little, give her space and she’d come running.
