He’d not really been able to think about much else ever since.
While Ashley was deep in thought, Mo aimed Splash at the first jump and with a creak of leather and jingle of metal the horse surged into the air. The pair landed with a soft beat of hooves, followed by several strides before Mo gathered up all that power and energy again to launch them over a triple. She hardly moved in the saddle; just the slightest shift of her weight and the gentlest half-halt steadied the horse as they flew over the jumps together.
“Well done!” he heard her say to the horse as she patted the animal’s hot neck. “Good boy, Splash!”
Mo’s face was softer now and she was grinning from ear to ear. She yanked off her crash hat and shook her wild red curls free before leaning forwards and throwing her arms around the horse’s neck and showering it with kisses.
“What did you think?” she called.
I think if I’m jealous of a horse then I’ve really got it bad, thought Ashley despairingly as he gave her the thumbs up.
“It looked bloody good from here,” he said warmly.
“It was the best this bugger’s done lately, so I’m going to end on a good note and let him stretch,” Mo decided. “Would you fetch his cooler? It’s the red one hanging over the stable door.”
“What am I, your groom?”
She snorted. “Hardly. Any groom worth their salt would have fetched the cooler ages ago. But you’ll do for now, I suppose. Anyway, you’re a horse owner now, so you may as well learn the ropes. You could fill a bucket of water as well while you’re at it.”
“I love it when you’re bossy,” said Ashley, “and the whips-and-boots dominatrix look turns me on no end, but shouldn’t we have a safe word?”
“How about now?” suggested Mo but she was smiling at him, thank God, and his heart lifted. It looked as though he was forgiven.
Obediently, Ashley went to get the cooler, then busied himself filling buckets and chatting to the other horses. While he scratched Mr Dandy’s nose he wondered what on earth was stopping him from telling Mo how he felt.
“Why don’t I know what to say or what to do when I’m with your mum?” he asked Mr Dandy. But Mr Dandy just snorted and blew sweet hay-scented breath through his nose, and didn’t seem to have any answers either.
Ashley felt the same way himself. Usually he was so assured, so confident and knew exactly what to do. His entire adult life, Ashley had managed to handle women with a smooth charm and ease that had been the envy of many of his friends. From one-night stands to long-term girlfriends, he’d always managed to extricate himself with just the right amount of gentlemanly behaviour and kindness. Accordingly, none of them had ever had a bad word to say about him – and, as an added bonus, they were often more than willing to come back for the occasional night of no-strings fun, leaving him free to enjoy the bachelor life.
So what was making everything so difficult with Morwenna Tremaine? He’d done all he could to win her over, from the grand gestures of signing over Fernside to buying The Bandmaster back. But none of that seemed to impress her, and neither did the fast cars and status symbols that usually did the trick. He’d been at a total loss until their simple picnic in the field – and even then he’d half hoped, half feared that sleeping with her would get her out of his system.
Well, that had failed in spectacular style. Making love to Mo, a girl he had actually fallen for, was like nothing else he’d ever known. That afternoon had been incredible and as they’d lain in each other’s arms, Ashley tenderly stroking damp tendrils of hair from Mo’s flushed cheeks, he’d known that just in the space of a few hours his life had changed forever. Rather than sex being a means to get over his infatuation, it had only made his feelings stronger and moved everything to a whole new level. Feeling her heart racing against his as he’d held her close, Ashley had realised that he was in deep. He could blame the tumour as much as he liked, but he knew it wasn’t the reason why he felt all at sea with Mo.
The truth was that he’d never really cared enough before to want someone else’s happiness to matter more than his own. Falling in love with Mo had changed everything.
Ashley passed a hand over his eyes. A headache nagged at his temples, although whether it was from the oppressive humid air or something more sinister he couldn’t say. He’d spent the days in hospital thinking things over and over and over until he’d felt giddy but, no matter what, he’d kept returning to the same conclusion: he was head over heels in love with Morwenna Tremaine.
He really hadn’t seen this coming. Just as he’d told her, that afternoon on the cliffs had been about so much more than sex: it had been the beginning of something he hadn’t really understood until it was too late, something so much bigger than him.
He exhaled wearily. What a mess. He had nothing to offer her now, did he? These latest tests weren’t likely to yield good news, so how could he tell Mo how he felt and become involved with her when their time together might well be measured in months rather than years? And that was if he was lucky. It seemed the bitterest irony of all that it was only now that he’d found someone he wanted to share his life with, that his life was likely to be snatched away.
Mo was loosening Splash’s girth now. Slipping her feet from the stirrups, she jumped down to the ground. She looked tiny beside the big horse but exuded so much life and energy that Ashley was struck again by how tired and weak he was becoming. Even filling and carrying two buckets had been an effort, and the headache was growing like a dark swirling entity deep inside his skull. His hand slipped into his pocket and his fingers curled around the blister pack of tablets. If it got bad enough then he knew he could take a couple – but they would knock him out for hours and take him away from Mo, which was the only place he wanted to be right now. He didn’t want any more moments stolen because he didn’t know how many there might be left.
This was why he had to tell her how he felt about her and, his heart clenched at the thought, the truth about him. It was almost funny how scared of this he was. He’d masterminded takeovers, bought and sold millions of pounds’ worth of shares and still ran a highly successful company, but none of this had ever made him feel anywhere near as nervous as the pressing need to lay his heart on the line with Mo.
“I’ll just hose him down,” Mo called, slinging off the tack as though it was made of feathers rather than heavy leather, and leading Splash to the hose. “When I’m done, if you could bring the sweat scraper and grooming kit, that would help. You’re not just here to look pretty.”
He grinned wickedly. “Glad you think I’m pretty!”
Mo turned scarlet and he loved her even more for her embarrassment at this slip of her tongue.
“Feel free to give yourself a cold shower too,” Ashley teased. “Sounds to me as though you need it!”
Mo ignored him and, still laughing, Ashley fetched a grooming kit and located what looked like a scraper for window cleaning. He’d no idea whatsoever about anything equine, but this looked about right.
While Mo tended to the horse, spending ages hosing each leg in turn, Ashley sat on the mounting block and let his thoughts drift back to this morning’s warning from Stephen Oliver, his consultant.
Mr Oliver had been peering over his spectacles in that manner he had, which always made Ashley feel like a schoolboy being ticked off by his headmaster rather than a multimillionaire businessman who was actually paying for the best medical care possible. “Well, we already know the good news,” the consultant had said, “which is that it’s non-malignant. The biopsy should indicate that nothing has altered in that respect.”
Ashley had nodded. “We knew all this before, but the bloody thing’s grown back again. And, anyway, you said there was always a possibility that it could change and become cancerous. I do listen; it hasn’t destroyed my memory just yet.”
Mr Oliver had chosen to ignore Ashley’s barbed remark. “Indeed. It’s true, the biopsy results will tell us more, as will the scans, but I really don’t advise
that you travel far from the hospital. That was an invasive procedure and you need to rest. You may even find that your symptoms worsen. I’d be happier to keep you in for another twenty-four hours.”
“And the bad news is?” Ashley had tried to joke.
“That we may need to operate sooner rather than later. Benign or malign, the pressure this tumour exerts on your brain will only exacerbate the symptoms. We may need to begin corticosteroids too.”
Why the hell didn’t these people talk in plain English? Ashley had tried not to panic but his stomach had lurched like a roller-coaster ride.
“Are you telling me that the time may be coming to operate on this properly?” he’d asked. Christ, he hoped not. The operation was risky to say the least, not that he really had any choice in the matter. “I’ve lived with this thing for long enough now. Can’t it wait for a few months more?”
The silence this question was met with told him all he needed to know. Clearly not. It looked as though the final grains of sand in his egg timer were about to run out. To his surprise, though, his first thought hadn’t been for himself: it had been for Mo. He couldn’t waste a second more – he had to tell her how he felt. She had to know the truth.
Ashley hadn’t stuck around after that. Against all his consultant’s advice he’d discharged himself from the hospital early and caught the next train down to Cornwall. He’d not even stopped to change his clothes but had come straight to Mo’s yard. Now he had to find the strength to tell her the truth.
He took a deep breath. There was no time like the present. It was going to have to be now.
Chapter 13
Mo was pleased with Splash. He’d jumped beautifully this afternoon and proved that, if in the right mood, he really did have the potential that she’d always suspected. She was impressed with herself, too, for managing to focus on the jumps even though every cell of her body had been leaping about and shrieking that Ashley Carstairs was over there! Truly, it was a double achievement to have ridden so well, given that she couldn’t recall ever being quite so distracted in her life.
Hosing Splash down, Mo stole a glance at Ashley from under her lashes. He was sitting on the mounting block, one ankle resting on the top of the opposite knee and the taut muscles of his legs enticingly outlined by the denim. One look at him was all it took for Mo to forget all her annoyance and the angst of the past fortnight. He was so ridiculously handsome. He wasn’t classically good-looking in the way that her younger brother Zak was (according to her female friends, at least) or athletic and rugged like her eldest sibling Jake, but there was a poise and dangerous grace about Ashley that reminded her of a panther. This, teamed with the sculpted high-boned face and intense eyes, made her legs shaky and her insides turn to gloop.
Sensing Mo looking over, Ashley smiled at her, a big smile that lit his eyes to warm cognac and made her own mouth curve upwards in answer.
Oh Lord, thought Mo as her heart turned to bran mash, this was bad…
“Would you throw the rug over Splash?” she asked quickly. If in doubt, bark an order, she told herself. Pull yourself back from the brink, Mo.
Without waiting for his reply, she slung the saddle and bridle over her arm and headed for the tack room. Once inside, where the still air was thick with the tangy scent of old leather and saddle soap, Mo lifted the saddle onto the rack, leaned her forehead against the cantle and closed her eyes in despair. What was happening to her?
At first she thought the arms that stole around her waist were just a figment of her imagination, her longing made tangible, but then a gentle hand lifted the heavy hair from the nape of her neck and she felt the rasp of stubble as a kiss brushed against the sensitive skin. A thousand butterflies fluttered in her tummy and Mo felt the tension of the past days vanish. Then she turned her head and their lips touched.
Mo gasped. His fingers were threaded through her hair and she couldn’t move; there was nothing she could do except kiss him back. As Ashley’s tongue danced against hers she thought that she could kiss him forever. Held tightly against his strong body, Mo could feel just how much he wanted her, and her pulsed raced in anticipation of what was to come. She could hardly wait.
“I need to put Splash in his stable,” she murmured when they broke apart.
“Is that a euphemism?”
His eyes glittered down at her, filled with such desire that Mo could barely breathe. Slipping from his grasp she stepped away and pointed to the yard, where the horse, swaddled in the red blanket, was scraping the cobbles with an iron-shod hoof and looking mutinous.
“He’ll get into mischief if I don’t put him inside.”
“It is a euphemism,” Ashley grinned, “and I totally agree. Although, just for the record, getting into mischief sounds very good to me. Maybe you could show me that hayloft you mentioned the other day?”
Mo stood on tiptoes and kissed his mouth. “I’ll show you more than the hayloft,” she promised, “but the horses have to come first, Ashley.”
“I could make a joke about coming second, but that would be in poor taste,” Ashley sighed, following her into the yard. “Maybe I’ll just show you instead?”
But Mo, no longer listening to his teasing, ground to a complete halt. While she and Ashley had been otherwise occupied in the tack room, a Persil-white Range Rover had pulled up in the yard. A tall, slim blonde was leaning against it studying her nails in a bored fashion. In her white skinny jeans, towering nude heels and strapless top she looked more dressed for an Ibiza nightclub than a stable yard in Cornwall. Mo’s heart plopped into her riding boots.
It was only Ella St Milton. What the hell did she want now?
“Oh, there you are, Morwenna,” said Ella, pushing her oversized Chanel sunnies onto her head and gazing at Mo through narrowed eyes that had all the warmth of an industrial freezer. Mo, suddenly very aware of her tatty jodhpurs and ancient tee shirt, felt her hackles rise. There was no love lost between the two women, that was for certain. The last time they’d spoken Mo had pleaded with Ella to give her one more month with The Bandmaster, and Ella had just sneered at her. Ella’s answer had been that, since Jake had turned her down, there was no further point in leaving her horse with his sister. Mo still burned with shame when she recalled how easy it had been for Ella to bribe her to put a good word in with her brother. She’d almost managed to wreck everything between him and Summer.
It hadn’t exactly been her finest hour…
“What do you want?” Mo demanded rudely. She couldn’t help it; Ella made her teeth itch. “If it’s about Jake, then he’s happy with Summer – but if it’s any consolation, Nick thinks, and I quote, you’re quite fit for an old bird.”
Ella’s tiny nose crinkled in distaste as though she could almost smell fisherman Nick in his oilskins and smock.
“I think I’ll pass on that offer, thanks, darling. My tastes are rather more refined these days. Anyway, it’s not a Tremaine I’m looking for. I’m here to see Ashley.”
Ashley, who’d cannoned into Mo, looked surprised to hear this. “Me?”
Ella’s eyes flickered over him approvingly. Mo recognised that avaricious expression. Was Ashley the more refined taste to which she’d referred? Painfully thin Ella with her designer bling and glossy blonde mane was certainly far more Ashley’s type. Mo’s insides tightened as though somebody had pulled them together with a drawstring. She glanced at Ashley just in case she was missing something, but he seemed equally bemused.
“Sorry, Ella, but I’m at a loss. What’s so urgent that you needed to track me down?”
Ella gave a light laugh, which Mo recalled from school was often the prelude to some particularly acidic comment.
“You are the owner of Polwenna Bay Hotel’s Bandmaster, aren’t you? Oh, don’t deny it Ash; we all know Morwenna can hardly afford to buy a pasty.”
“Technically I own the horse,” Ashley agreed calmly, “but actually he’s for Mo.”
Ella raised an eyebrow. “My goodness. What did Mo do
to deserve that, I wonder?”
“I’m a bloody good eventer, as you’d know if you’d left the horse with me,” Mo said furiously. “The truth is that Ashley’s my new sponsor, which makes the horse Carstairs’ Bandmaster now. The Polwenna Bay Hotel’s name can go, for a start.”
“Carstairs’ Bandmaster? That sounds like a stairlift for old folks!” Ashley grimaced. “Maybe we ought to rethink that one, Mo?”
“I don’t care what you call him,” said Ella. “It’s irrelevant to me, Mo. Anyway, I’m here to speak to the owner, not to you.” She delved into the big Mulberry bag slouched over the crook of her arm – a bag that Mo knew cost more than some of her saddles – and plucked out a sheaf of papers. “These need signing.”
“What’s all that?” asked Ashley. His hand rested lightly on Mo’s shoulder for a second before he stepped forward to take them.
“Breeding papers and passport,” Mo told him as she caught sight of the documents. “Bloody Alex; he was supposed to do all that for you. What a lazy git.”
“I’m the owner, which means I need to sign them first,” Ella said, “which I’ll do, of course.”
“I’ll get a pen,” said Mo.
“Not here!” Ella sounded horrified at the very idea. “This is the sale of an asset worth thousands of pounds! I’m not signing the papers in a smelly farmyard.”
“An asset?” Mo could hardly believe her ears. “Is that really how you see Bandy? He’s a horse, Ella! Not a commodity.”
Ella shook her head and raised her eyes to heaven. “Good luck, Ashley. The horse is a sound investment but I really do suggest you rethink your choice of rider. Mo’s far too emotional to be objective.”
“In your opinion, Ella,” said Ashley smoothly. “Personally, I admire Mo’s passion and her dedication. She’s my choice.” He glanced at Mo, adding softly, “In more ways than one.”
“Well, don’t blame me when it all goes wrong and she falls apart when the bloody thing chips a hoof or something.” Ella snatched the paperwork out of Ashley’s hands. “I’ll meet you tonight at seven in the hotel bar. We can complete the transaction then and you can buy me a drink. I think that’s the least you owe me. And don’t be late, not like the last time. I’m not a patient woman.”
A Time for Living: Polwenna Bay 2 Page 12
