Maid for Marriage

by Sue Peters

  Luke cast her a long, considering look, assessing her tone as much as the words she had spoken. His eyes seemed to bore down into her head, probing her mind, but stubbornly Dee refused to look up to meet them.

  She was conscious of her own heightened colour, painfully conscious of Luke's nearness, which turned into actual contact as her pony took advantage of her temporary distraction to sidle close to its fellow.

  In the process it pressed her leg against Luke's. Instantly Dee checked the move with a quick pressure of her knees, but not before the sensuous feel of hard muscle pressing against the length of her calf sent tingles shooting through it, which dyed her cheeks to an even deeper hue, the brighter for the quick flash that lit the quartz-flecked eyes as they interpreted her desperate look.

  After what seemed a year of time Luke drawled, 'Bill Williams didn't leave me any option.'

  'Bill didn't?' Dee flashed a look of pure astonishment. 'Bill told me you'd telephoned him to make the offer. Out of the blue, he said.'

  'Not quite out of the blue.' The drawl was pronounced. 'I reckoned if Bill Williams was as careless of the safety of the exhibits as he is of the safety of his couriers then my choice of venue for the exhibition had got to be better than his, from a security angle. Some of the pieces in the Indian exhibit belong to people known to me professionally, and I decided it was time I took a hand in the arrangements myself.'

  The thought flashed across Dee's mind, He's concerned for the exhibits, and his business relationships. Not for me. Out loud, she exploded indignantly, 'Bill is never careless, either of his couriers or of the valuables in their charge. We all have the most thorough training in security.'

  'From where I'm sitting...' Luke's eyes slid over Dee's slight figure with insulting calculation. 'From where I'm sitting, to send a five-foot-nothing female to escort a priceless collection of gems is worse than careless. It's criminal folly.'

  'Female'! Not 'girl'. Not 'woman', or 'lady'. But 'female'. And she was an inch or two taller than five feet. Dee ground her teeth with fury.

  'I am quite capable of ‑'

  'Being hijacked, mugged, or worse,' Luke finished for her.

  Dee knew a swift relief that he did not detail what the 'worse' might entail. The relief died in mounting anger, and she flashed, 'Male couriers face exactly the same risks as the women.' Not the 'worse', but certainly the other two. And she refused to repeat the 'female'.

  Her retaliation produced no noticeable retreat on Luke's part. He commented blandly, 'A man is better able to take care of himself than a girl.'

  Of all the male chauvinistic...

  Before Dee could sort out her thoughts into suitably cutting words Luke added, 'Bill Williams seemed a bit reluctant at first, I thought. But I told him if he'd got another venue booked to cancel it. He agreed, of course.'

  'Oh, of course,' Dee agreed sarcastically.

  She sent a fixed stare between her pony's ears. She knew the reason for her boss's hesitation, if Luke didn't: Bill had the kind of integrity and care for his staff, in spite of what Luke might think, that would not accept this most marvellous solution to his problem until he knew that he could do so with a clear conscience.

  She swung in her saddle to justify Bill's hesitation, and the movement blinded her to the one on the ground. The snake struck viciously at the pony's hoofs, a split-second before Luke roared, 'Dee, look out! Look out..

  He was just that split-second too late. The evil head flashed out of a patch of rough scrub growing at the side of the track, and Dee's pony gave a shrill whinny of fright.

  Luke's hand shot out, grabbing for the animal's bridle. His fingers brushed leather and closed on air as the pony jerked its head away with a stiff-legged jump that would have done justice to a jack-in-the-box.

  Seeing its quarry in retreat, the snake struck a second time, and, giving a shrill scream of fright, Dee's mount bolted at top speed straight towards a shelter belt of trees which shaded the polo ground on their other side.

  Dee's rider instinct took over. The animal's ears were laid back flat against its head, its eyes glazed with terror, and it had the bit firmly fixed between its teeth.

  Dee didn't waste time trying to pull it in. The pony was a lot stronger than her own arms, and low-slung branches rushed to meet her, waiting to crash into her and sweep her out of the saddle. She leaned low across her mount's neck, and kicked her feet free from the stirrups.

  The loose leathers flapped wildly, bouncing the irons up and down and serving to increase the animal's panic, but it couldn't be helped. It was better than the risk of being dragged, if she should become unseated.

  The wind rushed in her ears. The hammer of hoofs beat a tattoo of impending disaster upon her senses. The tattoo increased in volume. Perhaps the polo game was starting up again? And then Luke was beside her, the louder tattoo coming from the hoofs of his own pony.

  He rode with the agility of an Indian brave. Strong thighs clamped his tall body to his pony's back, as if he were part of the animal. As he raced up alongside Dee he leaned across, and even in extremis her frightened eyes could appreciate the supple arc of his body as he reached out both arms to grip her round the waist.

  Her pony tried to veer away, but with superlative skill Luke kneed his own mount round in a tight turn. With any other horse a spill would have been inevitable, but the nimble-footed polo pony, accustomed to such manoeuvres, took the abrupt change of direction in its stride.

  It did what Luke intended, and forced Dee's mount round, and then the two animals were racing shoulder to shoulder away from the peril of the trees, back into the open, running neck and neck up the steepest part of the already steep slope in a calculated bid of Luke's to slow the wild, uncontrolled flight of the bolting horse naturally, without any need to pull it in by force.

  It was a classic piece of riding skill, executed with the precision of a ballet sequence, and orchestrated by the drumming hoofs. Through a daze Luke's command penetrated Dee's ears.

  'Let go!'

  Her numb fingers obeyed his order automatically, without any reinforcing message from her brain. As the reins dropped she felt herself being lifted high out of her saddle, and shut her eyes as she floated for a moment on nothingness. And then Luke straightened in his saddle, and with one arm he moulded Dee to his own body, while with his other hand he sought for, and regained control of, his own reins.

  'That was a fine piece of riding, Ransom.'

  Dee opened her eyes. Men surrounded them. Young men, carrying mallets, and mounted on ponies similar to their own. The unseen polo team? Their spokesman confirmed her bemused guess.

  'We abandoned our game when we heard you shout, and came to see what was the matter.'

  'Weren't needed,' another observed laconically, and enquired, 'Are you all right, miss?'

  Dee managed to nod. Her voice refused to function. How could she say, in truth, that she was all right, when Luke's arm continued to press her against him, the clean, chiselled line of his jaw nestled lightly on her tumbled hair, sending electric signals to its very roots?

  Her nostrils caught the faint male smell of his exertions as her face pressed against his sweat-dampened shirt, injecting a liquid fire into her veins more potent than any snake bite, and infinitely more dangerous, since there was no known antidote.

  Dee's pulses raced. Their wild gymnastics caused the surrounding sea of faces to advance and recede in a manner which warned her that, if Luke was to set her down, her legs would refuse to hold her.

  Violent trembles shook her, and she hoped fervently that her rescuer would put them down to her recent fright. She didn't want to admit, even to herself, that her convulsive shivers were triggered as much by the vital attraction of the man who held her as by the emergency just past.

  The polo team crowded round, eyeing her anxiously, and, embarrassed, Dee made a small convulsive movement to free herself as pride came to her rescue and restored her voice.

  'I—I'm fine... really...'

&nbs
p; It was quavery, and uncertain, but it seemed to satisfy the riders.

  'That's the spirit,' they applauded. 'You're in no more danger now.'

  No more danger?

  Dee longed to shout at them, 'Luke Ransom is more dangerous than any bolting pony,' and had to grip her teeth tightly together in order to prevent the words from spilling out.

  Branches might lie in wait to sweep her from the saddle, but the impact of hard arms threatened to sweep away her senses, and broken bones were preferable to a broken heart. One experience in that direction was one too many, and not to be repeated. With a rising sense of panic, which equalled that of her blowing pony, Dee hissed at Luke, 'Loose me!'

  He must have heard her, but he didn't deign to answer. His only response was to tighten his grip round her midriff, and with mounting frustration Dee heard one of the polo players offer, 'Your pony still seems jittery. I'm going back to the stables now. If you like, I'll lead him in for you.'

  'I can ride him back.' Dee tried ineffectually to struggle free from Luke's grip.

  'It's risky, miss. After bolting like that something might easily spook him again until he's calmed down properly.'

  His description could apply as much to herself as to her pony, Dee thought raggedly, and steeled herself to insist, when Luke cut in, 'Thanks. I'd be grateful if you would. We'll ride back slowly, in tandem.'

  In tandem.

  Dee stiffened in Luke's hold. How typical that he should choose such a phrase. Loosely translated, in tandem meant falling into line and following meekly behind wherever the person in front chose to lead.

  Her plans for her future did not include falling meekly into line behind any man, ever again.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The after-glow from the sunset seemed to linger for a long time.

  Dee lay back wearily in her chair on the veranda, and watched the glow slowly turn the distant snow-covered peaks from scarlet to orange to a delicate icing-sugar pink. Reaction set in from the afternoon's events, and she felt suddenly drained of energy.

  She had listened with a feeling of disbelief when Luke had recounted their adventure to their host and hostess during dinner and unexpectedly given her credit with, 'If Dee hadn't been such a good horsewoman the results could have been very much worse.'

  Big of him, she thought sarcastically. The last thing she expected was to receive an accolade from Luke. With an effort she resisted the temptation to bow an acknowledgement across the table, and answered instead, with matching honesty, 'If you hadn't steered my pony away from the trees it would have been disastrous.'

  Give the devil his due for services rendered. Like saving her life. Dee harboured no illusions as to what the outcome might have been if a branch had swept her to the ground at such a speed. At the very least, Luke had saved her from severe injury. At the worst... She shivered, and added, 'Luke turned him just in time.'

  It was an oblique way of offering her thanks to Luke, which she could not bring herself to make more fulsome. If he hadn't so highhandedly engineered the ride in the first place it wouldn't have happened. Now it had, and owing him her life and limb put her under an enormous obligation, which gravelled her pride.

  It also left Luke wide open to expect something from her in return, and so effectively closed the door against her planned attempt to get Bill to send one of the other couriers in her place to help organise the exhibition at Ransom Court.

  Manoj observed sympathetically, 'You look absolutely shattered, Dee. And no wonder, after such a dreadful experience. You should have an early night, to recover. You've got a long day ahead of you tomorrow.'

  It would seem even longer spent in Luke's company, Dee predicted gloomily, and consoled herself that at least they couldn't be alone together on an aeroplane.

  Going to bed early tonight would be the perfect excuse to limit the time still further. She raised her hand to smother a yawn that wasn't entirely fictitious, and confessed, 'I shan't need rocking tonight.'

  She had been rocked to the core already by her own unwanted reaction to Luke, and no matter how much she tried to convince herself that the fright and upset had made her extra vulnerable, and so lowered her resistance to him, she knew that, however tired she might be, rest would be hard to come by when she eventually went to bed.

  She envied the children their ability to drop into dreamless slumber almost the moment their heads touched their pillows. She had helped Gita to tuck up the two earlier in the evening, and as she'd bent down to kiss them goodnight the four-year-old had told her drowsily, 'We had a lovely afternoon, Dee. I played with the puppy. It went like this.' He gave a squeaky imitation of a puppy's cry, which ended in a wide yawn, and Gita smiled as she shut the door behind them.

  'They won't be any trouble for the rest of the night. I'll look in on them later in case they need tucking up again, but I don't expect they'll move after such a hectic day.'

  She got up from her chair now, intent upon her motherly task, and Luke rose with her, saying, 'I'll come, too. I brought the boys a jigsaw each from Calcutta. If I put the parcels at the end of their beds they'll find them when they wake up in the morning.'

  'You spoil them,' Manoj smiled, and got up too as the telephone shrilled a summons from the hall. 'I'll get it. You two go in to the boys. Will you be all right on your own for a few minutes, Dee?' he asked courteously, and she nodded.

  'Of course. You go and answer the phone before it wakes the children.'

  Silence dropped round her as the others went about their tasks, and Dee let herself relax. She hoped Luke wouldn't return before Gita and Manoj. She didn't feel equal to coping with any more of his sole company today. If he did come back, she promised herself she would plead tiredness as an excuse to go to her room. She would have Manoj's advice to back her up, and Luke could not argue with that.

  Long shadows had stolen the icing-sugar pink from the mountain peaks, but there was still sufficient reflected light left in the sky for Dee to be able to make out vague shapes in the carefully tended garden of the bungalow.

  Something stirred in the shrubbery, and alerted her attention. Another snake? She strained her eyes anxiously. As she watched, a thin whine broke the silence, followed by a shuffling sound, and. a small, pale shape, on four unsteady legs, blundered among the bushes. It sank down under one of them, near enough for Dee to be able to recognise what had made the sound.

  She could have laughed out loud. A dog! It must be the one the children had spoken of, which they had been playing with that afternoon. Evidently it had followed them back from their friends' bungalow, and had got itself lost in the garden. Dee ran down the veranda steps, forgetting her tiredness.

  'Here, boy! Come to me.'

  She held out her hands towards it coaxingly. It seemed to be having some difficulty in extricating itself from the tough stems of the closely packed shrubs. Perhaps its collar had caught on one of them, and was holding it back? She bent forward to see, just as Luke grabbed her up in his arms and held her clear of the shrubs and of the whining dog.

  Unconsciously her mind had registered his footsteps, racing at top speed towards her across the lawn, but, intent upon the animal, she had taken no notice.

  And then he was upon her, like a whirlwind, his arms scooping her up and carrying her high off the ground, back towards the bungalow.

  'Have you gone mad?' she cried angrily. 'Put me down this minute.'

  He ignored her. Without pausing, he whirled round and ran with her towards the bungalow steps. She saw the dog lunge forward and sink back again, and then she had no time to notice anything more as Luke took the steps in one heart-stopping bound, and didn't release her on to her feet until they were safely back on the lamplit veranda.

  'Are you crazy?' Her eyes blazed up into his.

  He shook her words to a stop. 'Did you touch the dog?'

  'I didn't get anywhere near the dog, thanks to your grabbing me up as if I were a sack of potatoes.'

  'You make a very pretty sack of potatoes.'


  His flippancy was the last straw. 'How dare you haul me in from the garden in that manner? Who do you think you are?'

  'Would you believe, your guardian angel?'

  Gaoler, more like. Dee pulled in air through clenched teeth, but before she could draw in enough to propel a vehement 'No, I wouldn't' back into his face, Luke hurried on, 'It's high time you were in bed. You heard what Manoj said. We've got an early start tomorrow.'

  His arrogance was insufferable. 'What right have you got to tell me to go to bed? I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, without your help. Since when did you turn ayah?'

  'I will if you want me to. Just say the word,' Luke invited her softly.

  Dee's breath was a sharp hiss that resembled the sound of the snake, but her churning mind was incapable of drawing comparisons.

  Luke's teeth were a white flash above her, and coming closer. His parted lips were a mocking invitation, but for some reason, his smile failed to reach his eyes.

  Even through her anger, Dee was quick to notice that the quartz flecks remained unlit, leaving his eyes curiously cold and bleak, and there was a taut rigidity in his body as he pressed her to him that was at odds with his jaunty manner.

  'Well?' When she didn't answer Luke put two fingers under her chin, and tilted her face up to meet his, refusing to allow her to take refuge in silence, and, cornered, Dee stammered, 'No...I...you...'

  What right had he to fling impossible questions at her, and then demand answers which she did not want to give? Anger came to Dee's aid, and she grasped control of her stumbling tongue, and forced it to answer firmly, 'I went to get the dog. It must have followed the children, and now it's lost.'

  The dog wasn't the only one that was in danger of getting lost. Trapped in the tight circle of Luke's arms, she was rapidly losing her own direction, and wandering around in a darkness of his making. She needed to get back on course fast, before her reeling senses lost sight of her resolve.

  Luke said, and his voice sounded oddly rough, 'Manoj is looking after the dog. Leave it to him. That's what his telephone call was about. You've got better things to do.'