Maybe she’d been a disappointment? Mo bit her bottom lip. It had been a while, but surely sex was like riding a horse? Back in the saddle and all that? Or maybe Ashley had just gone back to Mariners and carved a notch in what was probably a very well-whittled bedpost, before scrolling through his contacts to pick the next idiot. He was probably still laughing about how easy it had been to win her over.
Frailty, thy name is Morwenna Tremaine, she thought bitterly. Well, she wouldn’t make that mistake twice. Ashley had made a fool of her once and that was once too often.
Summer put her cutlery down with a clatter. “Mo, that’s twice I’ve asked you something and had no reply. And if I wasn’t already worried enough, you’ve hardly touched your food. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just busy with the yard and stuff,” she hedged. “The calendar thing’s been a total pain too. I could really have done without having to take the time off today, especially now that Ashley Carstairs’ horses have arrived. My workload’s increased massively.”
Mo couldn’t look Summer in the eye as she said this. She really was the most hopeless fibber, not like her brother Zak who had a dubious gift for being economical with the truth. Mo liked honesty and knowing exactly where she stood. She guessed she had her grandmother’s influence to thank for this.
Summer didn’t seem convinced. “But isn’t it a good thing having Ashley’s liveries? They’ll pay a few bills surely?”
Mo nodded. She fully intended to charge Ashley the full whack for his horses – if she ever saw him again, that was.
“It’ll help,” she admitted. “Of course it will. But I can’t see him riding either of them. Bandy’s far too good for a novice and even the schoolmaster Alex managed to offload will be too much at first. I’ve no idea why on earth he’s bought them.”
Summer fixed her friend with a green-eyed stare.
“Haven’t you? Are you totally sure about that, Mo?”
Mo felt a hot blush start to creep up her neck. “Of course. It’s a typical show-off Cashley gesture, that’s all. He’s got the house, the cars and the bling so now he wants the horses too. You can’t ride a Rolex.”
“Seems a bit odd to splash out all that money on showing off, just to bury the horses down in Cornwall. Wouldn’t it make more sense to have them in some flashy place in Surrey?” Summer said thoughtfully. She dunked a chunk of bread in her white-wine sauce and munched, an expression of bliss on her pretty face. “Carbs,” she explained, seeing Mo’s bemused look. “I didn’t go near them for years and now I’m making up for lost time. I’ll be the size of one of your horses at this rate.”
Mo, who had never dieted in her life and generally ate exactly what she liked, couldn’t imagine how anyone could do without carbs for a few minutes, let alone several years. Still, she guessed this was why she smelled of horse and had a black hole of an overdraft rather than enjoying a successful career as a model.
“Anyway, some bread’s the least you deserve after putting up with that knob Justin for so long. Feel free to tuck into mine too; you’ve earned it,” Mo said.
Summer grimaced. “You’re not kidding. Anyway, enough of him. Did Jake tell you about our plans to update the marina?”
Mo recognised a change of subject when she saw one and she let the conversation drift to Summer and Jake’s future plans for the family business. This was by far a preferable topic to ex-fiancés or why Ashley had bought two horses he clearly didn’t need. When Summer’s mobile rang with a call from Jake (they really couldn’t bear to go for long without talking, Mo observed with a smile), she was more than happy to sip her drink and let her own thoughts float back to a warm afternoon not so long ago.
It had been perfect. Lost in thought and blissed out beyond anything she had ever dreamed possible, Mo had lain in Ashley’s arms with the sunshine dancing over her skin and his fingertips gently brushing her cheek. Beneath her ribcage her heart had still been racing from a heady cocktail of surprise and passion. Glancing up at Ashley, she’d been taken aback to see that his eyes were shining with emotion.
“I hope you don’t treat all your full liveries like this,” he’d whispered, his lips just a kiss away from her own.
“It’s all part of the service,” Mo had deadpanned. “I sleep with all my full liveries.”
He’d stared at her, his pupils so dark that his eyes had seemed almost black against the glare of the blue sky above them. Mo had discovered that she couldn’t tease him for long; she’d wanted nothing more than to feel his mouth against hers again.
She’d laughed, then arched up and brushed his mouth with her own.
“You’re my only full livery.”
Ashley had exhaled. “In that case, Red, I fully intend on insisting this is written into our contract. Special terms and conditions for me and me only. The lawyers may find it a little irregular but we can work around that.”
“We’ll do no such thing,” Mo had told him firmly. “Our livery arrangement is going to be totally professional. This was a one-off. I don’t know what’s got into me. It must be the sun.”
His mouth had curled into a grin. “I don’t think it was the sun that got into you, Red.”
A sudden flashback had snatched Mo’s breath away then – of hard earth, like iron beneath her back as he drove into her, while she pulled him closer. She’d had the feeling that Ashley could read her mind. The glitter in his eyes and the widening of his smile had certainly suggested so.
“Do you know something, Mo?” he was saying softly. “I love owning horses. I wish I’d bought one months ago.”
Then his mouth had come down over hers and all the teasing and banter had been forgotten. Mo had closed her eyes and thought about nothing else except for Ashley’s kisses and the pure joy of melting into him. It hadn’t mattered that she couldn’t stand him, that he drove her crazy or that he stood for everything she detested; when he’d stroked the curls away from her cheeks and his lips had trailed molten-lava kisses along her collarbone, nothing else had seemed important. Her body had ached for his, her nerve endings had tingled with his slightest touch and she’d thought that if she didn’t have his mouth on hers she’d die.
It was the most glorious and the most awful thing that had ever happened to her. Mo Tremaine, who always knew what she wanted and exactly how she would go about getting it, was totally and utterly out of control.
Later – so much later that the sun had started to slither from the sky to paddle in the sea – they’d managed to break apart for long enough to eat their picnic, and Mo had thought that nothing had ever tasted so good. The brie was practically running out of the paper, the tomatoes were warmed by the sunshine and the wafer-thin slices of Parma ham that they fed to one another tasted earthy and delicious. Then, hand in hand, they’d made their way back across the fields to the lane and driven back to the stables. Neither had spoken a word but somehow that hadn’t mattered; they hadn’t needed to.
By the time they’d parked at Fernside, the evening had seeped through the peaches and golds of sundown, and blue and violet shadows were pooling across the lane. Venus was rising above the treetops and somewhere an owl cried, its call trembling in the still night air. It wasn’t the only thing trembling, Mo had thought, looking at her shaking hands against the steering wheel. She was so afraid of the intensity of what had passed between her and Ashley. In fact, scrap afraid. Mo was terrified. Ashley had managed to duck under her defences and, beneath the barbed wire of her outer persona, had seen the real her. Not the spiky, feisty Mo who battled for the Polwenna Action Group, or the fearless eventer who tackled cross-country courses that struck terror into the hearts of most riders, but the real her, the Mo Tremaine who was as delicate as the freckled inside of a foxglove flower. She had laid herself open, quite literally, and now she was filled with panic.
This was not how Mo operated. She kept herself apart from others and safe. She never got too close and she always had the upper hand. Her swift wits and sharp tongue usually
saw to this, but these things hadn’t daunted Ashley Carstairs for a second. In him Mo instinctively knew that she had met her match.
“Mo.”
She couldn’t look at him. She was too full of tangled emotions to trust herself. She couldn’t do this, let somebody get close to her and then risk them walking away. She just couldn’t.
“Mo,” Ashley said again. “Look at me.”
His hand stole to hers, their fingers lacing together. Although she was staring ahead, Mo could feel his eyes on her and her skin rippled with shivers. She had never been so aware of another person’s physical presence. It defied all reason and all logic, but every part of her cried out to him in the pull of mutual attraction. She’d felt it at the St Miltons’ ball when they’d met in the garden at night-time, she’d felt it when they’d watched the dolphins dancing in the bay and she felt it now.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” Ashley said quietly.
Mo took a deep breath. This was it, the it was just a bit of fun speech that he was going to deliver before vanishing off into the darkness and probably seeking out the next skinny superficial blonde who, she might as well face it, would be far more his type than a small redhead who smelt of horses.
“It’s fine,” she said woodenly. “You don’t have to explain anything. It was just sex. I get it.”
His fingers tightened on hers. “So defensive, Red. Always so ready to fight. Why is that, I wonder?”
Mo said nothing. A mother who had died too young? A father who was handsome, charming and generally bloody useless? A lifetime defending herself against the likes of Ella St Milton? Ashley could take his pick. Danny was the one with a psychiatrist, not her.
“As for this being just sex, as you so romantically put it,” Ashley continued, his voice firm, “it’s certainly more than that to me. I’m not going to pretend otherwise, even if that would let you off the hook.”
“What do you mean, let me off the hook?” she shot back.
“Exactly that,” he said. His fingers kept their hold on hers. “It would suit you, wouldn’t it, Mo, to be able to write me off as the kind of man who’d just have some no-strings fun and then walk away? You could label me nice and neatly then as the kind who rocks up, does what he likes, has sex and then leaves again.”
Was he some kind of mind reader?
“Well, aren’t you?”
There was a pause. Then Ashley sighed. “I’m not going to lie to you, Mo. I’ve been that guy; of course I have. No-strings sex is what I do best. Christ, it’s certainly a lot less complicated. You don’t need to buy horses either – usually something glittery or a pair of shoes does the trick. You, Red, are a lot more difficult to please.”
Mo snorted rudely. It was easier than acknowledging the little bird of hope that had opened its wings when he’d mentioned buying horses. This is Cashley, remember? she told herself sternly. He plays with peoples’ lives. Their property. Their villages. Their woods. Their hearts. It was all the same to him. This was just another of his games and she’d been stupid enough to play.
“Come on. Each time you’re here there’s usually some kind of blonde in tow.”
There was the glint of a white-toothed grin in the darkness. “Been keeping tabs on me, Red?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
His grip grew tighter. “Were you jealous?”
“No! Of course not!” lied Mo, because now, and to her great distress, she realised that the twisty-turny annoyed feeling that she’d had whenever Ashley had waltzed into The Ship with a twiggy blonde draped all over him was horribly similar to jealousy. Shit. What was that all about?
“Fibber,” said Ashley tenderly, stroking the inside of her wrist with his forefinger. “You were eaten up with envy and that’s fine, Mo, because I’d feel exactly the same if it had been the other way round. Lucky for me that you’re only interested in horses. Although Mr Dandy does have equipment that makes even me feel inadequate.”
Ashley had no need whatsoever to feel inadequate, but Mo wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. She snatched her hand away. “You know where you are with horses!”
“It’s hard to know where I am with you, that’s for sure.”
Mo scowled. “We even don’t like each other. We have nothing in common.”
“Except great sex,” said Ashley.
Mo felt her face flame. Thank God it was getting dark.
And thank God he’d said great.
“Except, it wasn’t just sex, was it?” he continued softly. “You know it and I know it, Red. There was far more to this afternoon than that, even if I wish there wasn’t. Believe me, the last thing I want right now is to have feelings for anyone, let alone you.”
“Thanks for that,” said Mo, “and if it’s any consolation I’m not exactly thrilled by developments myself. You’re the last person I should ever be involved with too.”
“Never a truer word spoken,” he agreed. “But actually what I’m trying to say – and ballsing up quite spectacularly – is that if this was just sex that would make life a hell of a lot easier for both of us, wouldn’t it? We could write it off as a bit of fun on a summer’s afternoon.”
“Who’s to say that wasn’t exactly what it was?”
“Me,” Ashley said firmly. “Come on, Mo, you felt it too, I know you did. This was special. This meant more. Didn’t it?”
Slowly, Mo nodded. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears and the car seemed to be floating up into the star-filled sky.
Ashley reached out and traced the curve of her cheek.
“There’s so much I need to say to you. But, not here and not now.” He took her hand again and this time pressed it to his lips, kissing each finger in turn. The touch of his mouth against her fingertips made Mo’s whole body dissolve with yearning. “Mo, I hadn’t expected today to turn out quite the way it did but I don’t regret a second of it and, whatever comes next, I need you to know that. This wasn’t just a bit of fun or a one-off.”
She said nothing. She couldn’t because the way his soft lips were playing with her fingertips was awakening all kinds of memories of their afternoon, and her stomach was flipping with longing. What was happening to her?
“I need you to trust me,” Ashley was saying. “I have to go away for a bit but when I come back there’s something I want to tell you.”
“Where are you going?” Mo asked. God, how needy did that sound? Recovering herself, she added quickly, “Only, the horses arrive tomorrow and there’s a lot to do.”
“I’m not spending time with you just because I have a sudden passion for all things equine,” he told her, “but because you’re the sexiest crosspatch I ever met. I have to go to London tomorrow and there’s no choice. Believe me, if there was I’d stay here, drag you back to Mariners and not let you out of bed for a month.”
Mo wasn’t quite sure what to say to this, only that it was probably one of the nicest things a man had ever said to her.
“I’d need to do the mucking out,” she said.
Ashley laughed. “Oh, Red! I’m Cashley, remember? I’ll just pay somebody to do that. You won’t have the energy left to lift a pitchfork when I’m finished with you! Besides, once I’ve got you to myself, Red, I’m not letting you go for a very long time.” He leant across and kissed her softly, and Mo closed her eyes and gave in to the heaven of feeling his mouth claiming hers.
“When I get back we’ll talk some more,” Ashley told her as they broke apart. “I promise.”
He’d opened the car door at that point and, as the interior light had flickered over his features, Mo had been taken aback to see how tired he’d looked. His sculpted face was pale, the skin taut over his sharp cheekbones, and there were purple hollows beneath his dark eyes. He was looking even worse than he’d seemed earlier in the day, when he’d claimed he’d had a hangover. Suddenly, it felt as though an icy hand was squeezing her heart.
“Is everything all right?”
The passeng
er door had slammed and all was shadows again.
“Of course,” Ashley had said easily, strolling to the driver’s side as Mo’s window whirred down. “Just a couple of appointments in the Big Smoke and a few loose ends to tie up.”
“You look really tired.”
She had seen his teeth flash, white in the darkness. “It’s been an energetic kind of a day!” he’d replied. “I’ve got a bit of a headache too. I’ll head back now but I’ll see you when I’m back. Then we can talk.”
Mo had nodded, but she hadn’t wanted to let him go. Everything in her had been screaming to keep Ashley close – which was nonsensical, of course. They hadn’t made any promises and they were nothing to each other. Still, once he’d kissed her goodnight and been swallowed up by the shadows of Fernside she’d sat staring after him for a long time.
And that had been the last Mo had seen or heard from Ashley Carstairs for nine days and twenty minutes – not that she was counting or anything. So much for the line he’d spun her about their afternoon being special. He obviously hadn’t meant a word.
She’d played right into his hands, hadn’t she? Yet he’d seemed so genuine…
“Sorry, Mo.” Summer ended the call and slipped her mobile into her bag. “Jake was just wondering what time we’d be back.”
See, that was what normal men did. They called the women they cared about and checked in with them; they didn’t bonk their brains out in a wheat field and then make cryptic comments before vanishing. Then again, Mo had to admit that if her recent behaviour was anything to go by, she didn’t have much of a brain for Ashley to bonk out. It was time to face the facts: she’d been taken for a fool. Ashley had probably laughed all the way to London and was even right now sniggering about how easy it had been to take in Mo Tremaine. No doubt he was chinking glasses of champagne with some blonde or other in his hot tub. That Mo’s mental image of life in London was an odd mixture of Austin Powers and the Playboy Club circa 1970 was by the by. Realistic or not, the stabbing misery she was feeling remained the same.
A Time for Living: Polwenna Bay 2 Page 10
