She was an ordinary person just like him, not the fancy aristocrat she was pretending to be. He might be Henry’s employee, groundsman, gardener, groom, handyman and whatever else, and as poor as a church mouse for all Danny knew, but far from that making him less attractive to her, it made him seem more earthy, more sexy, more of a real man than if he were a rich playboy.
“Right then, seven thirty tomorrow it is. I’ll be waiting for you.” The last so low he made it sound like a promise. Or a threat.
“Move over, King,” he added, gently but firmly pushing the big, black, horse’s head out of the way as it reached out and tried to nip him to get some attention.
Danny marvelled how at ease he was around the horses, and how calm they were with him. He certainly seemed to have established a good rapport with them since he’d taken over from Forbes.
She only wished she could feel as at ease with him as the horses clearly did, but despite her attempt at coolness, her palms were damp and sticky, her throat dry and her knees altogether too rubbery. Scarcely able to breathe, she needed to get out of the stables and into the fresh evening air, but her feet had inexplicably become stuck to the ground and she found she couldn’t move.
To cover her acute discomfort, she buried her face into the mare’s neck and crooned softly. Even though she couldn’t see the man standing on the other side of Bella, her senses were completely alive to him.
She even had the strangest feeling that she could see him clearly through her closed eyes. He had moved slightly to be standing at Bella’s head, stroking her nose – she knew that, even though she couldn’t see him! And she knew those fiercely blue eyes were on her, willing her to raise her head so she couldn’t hide from him.
Resistance was pointless. If those big hands, at present so gently caressing Bella’s velvet nose, had taken hold of her head and tipped it up, it would be no more irresistible than the mental force of his will.
Still trying to fight against it, she felt her head slowly lifting, her eyes travelling over the taut curves of his chest so clearly outlined by the tightness of his shirt out of the top of which a small clump of black hair protruded.
Up her eyes went, up over his strong, slightly square chin with its deep groove visible through black, designer stubble. Totally rejecting any commands from her rational mind, her eyes paused momentarily, and she shuddered as the image of his mouth pressed against hers sprang unbidden to her mind. It was a generous mouth, the lips sensuous but firm, the partially revealed teeth, white and even.
Reluctantly, as though called away, her eyes detached themselves from his mouth, and passed over the long, fine nose with its slightly flared nostrils, up to the jet-black hair just long enough at the front to be charmingly ruffled, and then back to his waiting eyes. This time, the jolt that shook her as his eyes locked onto hers was enough to knock the breath from her.
For what could have been eternity, silent, motionless, he held her in his formidable grasp. Nothing existed but the depth and colour of those electric blue eyes against his olive skin and black hair.
Eventually, his sensuous mouth curving with a hint of amusement, he stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, tipped his head down and studied her from under his lashes as he rocked back slightly on the heels of his boots and spoke softly.
“From out of the night, the mysterious lady appeared, a pre-Raphaelite goddess whose mission it was to steal his heart.” In a voice as soft and smooth as a heady, scented-oil massage, he made it sound like poetry, and Danny felt herself drawn still further under his enchantment.
A tiny voice in the back of her mind warned her that bears caught trout by tickling their soft underbellies until the fish drift off into a blissful stupor, then the bears flick them out of the water to their deaths. Was this handsome stranger a bear? Was she his trout?
She felt if she didn’t break away from him immediately, she would be under his control forever. Fighting with all the resolution she could muster, she tore her eyes from his, and shuffled her feet.
“I saw you from the window, bringing the horses in, so I came to say hello to Bella,” she stammered, as much to remind herself of why she was here as to provide him with an explanation.
“You’ve ridden her before, you said.” His tone was friendly and relaxed.
“Yes, a few times,” Danny answered more confidently, the ordinariness of the conversation relieving some of the tension between them. “My friend, Sara, er Miss Woods, has been a friend of Hen… Mr. Fitzworthing for years. I’ve stayed here a few times.”
“I’m sure Mr. Fitzworthing is delighted to have Miss Woods and yourself to stay,” he said with a grin.
“We live in the same house in London. Sara, Miss Woods and me. Sara’s an old friend of Hen… Mr. Fitzworthing,” she gushed in an attempt to hide her confusion. Why was he laughing at her? She was sure he was. “She’s up at the house.”
“You’re here for the party tomorrow night?” he asked, watching her intently. “Have all the guests arrived?”
“They hadn’t when we got here,” she told him, glad to be on neutral territory and finding talking to him easier than the charged silence which had buzzed between them earlier. “I don’t think the famous actor has arrived yet.”
She couldn’t keep the slight distaste from her voice but suspected that her present companion probably had no more time for the airs and graces of famous people with exaggerated opinions of themselves than did she.
“You know,” she continued in a rush, wanting to make amends for her earlier superior attitude and feeling a sense of camaraderie with her fellow unknown. “The famous Brandon Carlisle that no one can stop talking about.”
“Oh him,” he shrugged. “He’s coming, is he? I take it you’re not a big fan of his then?”
“To be truthful, I’ve never watched his show. I’ve never even seen him,” she admitted, “but I’m sure with all the fuss that’s made over him he must be impossibly conceited. Even though he’s not really doing anything useful, just acting, I imagine he’ll spend the whole time parading around like someone special expecting to be fawned over.”
He laughed out loud. “Ha, no doubt he will,” he agreed. “Poor fellow seems doomed to disappointment where you’re concerned, though.”
“He certainly is,” she agreed adamantly. “I came to congratulate Mr. Fitz… Henry and Semina on their engagement, and to drive Sara who’s lost her license. Certainly not to boost some actor’s already over-inflated ego.”
Despite having just met him, Danny felt again, and even more strongly this time, a kinship with the handsome stranger because of their common birthrights and stations in life: he working for Henry as a factotum and her an ordinary working girl from an ordinary working family.
Excitement rippled through her as she contemplated him once again: there was no denying this man was devastatingly attractive – tall, handsome, strong, confident, physical and independent – all qualities she greatly admired. And judging from the expression in his eyes, he was also viewing her with more than a passing interest. Perhaps this weekend might be more exciting than she had dreamed!
“Tell me your name,” he demanded softly.
“Danny… Daniella Ravenshaw,” she breathed.
“Daniella Ravenshaw,” he murmured so softly she had to lean towards him to hear. “A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”
Feeling her breath catch in her throat, and the colour flame in her cheeks at his compliment, she quickly hunted for something to say to break the tension.
“You’re very good around the horses.”
He shrugged. “I’ve been around horses most of my life. And I love them. They are beautiful animals, strong and powerful, yet also gentle and trusting.”
He emphasised his words by gently rubbing Bella’s ear. Lapping up the attention, Bella lowered her head and laid it against his chest. Danny was mesmerised by the sight of this stunningly attractive man loving horses as much as she did. Realising she was starin
g, and all but drooling, she coloured and shuffled nervously, glancing at the stable door as if seeking an escape as she searched for something to say.
“Have you been working for Henry long?”
“No. It’s a very recent thing.” He cocked his head slightly and grinned lopsidedly at her.
Danny frowned, wondering again why he found her so amusing.
Bored with the conversation and lack of treats, Bella backed away from her stall door and wandered over to her feed bucket to see if anything had materialised in it while her back was turned.
With Bella no longer between them, the man took a step closer and leaned against the stall door, his physical size and commanding presence dwarfing her.
“What about you?” he asked. “What does Miss Daniella Ravenshaw… It is Miss, isn’t it?” He took her left hand in his and held it up. No ring. He lowered it but didn’t let go.
Danny shuddered at the feel of his skin, his hand holding hers gently but firmly. Her immediate instinct was to pull it away; normally she didn’t like strange men touching her, didn’t let them. But this was different. She stared down at her hand in his and felt like she just wanted to leave it there forever. It fitted perfectly. It felt right.
“So, Miss Daniella Ravenshaw–”
Danny jumped at the sound of his voice and snatched her hand away, blood rushing to her face. She took a couple of steps back, but he followed her.
“What do you do when you aren’t partying with annoying celebrities?” He grinned again, and Danny felt her heart skip in her chest. He really was so attractive, she thought.
Turning away to hide her reaction, she answered half over her shoulder.
“I’m a writer.”
He moved around so he was in front of her, between her and the exit.
“A writer, hey. What do you write?”
She crinkled her eyes at him, wondering why he was asking her so many questions, and was surprised and pleased to see he seemed genuinely interested.
“I do a monthly column for a magazine and I have my own blog. Also bits and pieces of freelance stuff.” She shrugged and paused. He nodded for her to go on. “I got another job today actually, rewriting the text on a website. And I’m trying to write a book.”
“A book, eh?” He sounded impressed. “Good for you. What sort of book? How far have you got?”
“Not far at all to be honest.” She ignored his first question too embarrassed to admit she was trying to write romantic fiction. “I try to put as much time into it as possible, but it’s easy to get distracted.” His silence and her need to fill it made her impulsively confess her sins. “And this month’s column isn’t even finished yet, either. It has to be in by tomorrow lunchtime. I was going to finish it tonight but then Sara made me come early because her celebrity crush is coming.”
She stopped, horrified. Why was she running off at the mouth? Far from being the self-possessed, in-control adult she wanted him to think she was, she sounded like a ditz who couldn’t keep her life in order.
“Oh yes, the conceited guy. So, you’ve had a month to finish your column and it’s not done? Why did you leave it to the last minute?”
She stole a quick peek at him. He was staring at her, no longer smiling.
“I… I was busy,” she stammered, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “I’ve never not got it done on time anyway,” she added with what she hoped was a confident swagger of her shoulders.
“And this time?” His eyes had narrowed, and his voice was hard.
“I’m going to finish it tomorrow, when I get back from my ride,” Danny said with as much assurance as she could. She was starting to feel uncomfortable under his interrogation. She knew she should have finished it earlier, but she didn’t want to have to admit that.
“Wouldn’t it be better to do it instead of going for a ride?”
“No! I can do both.” She couldn’t keep a tinge of annoyance out of her voice. “What?” she asked, as his eyes narrowed, and his lips pursed. “I’m not missing my ride on Bella. And it won’t be the first time I’ve sent one through at the deadline. And it isn’t like I haven’t even started it. I’ll get it done.”
She waited for him to say something. He silently folded his arms. She scratched a non-existent itch on her thigh.
“Well,” he said. “I think you are being irresponsible leaving it so late. What does your boss think?”
“Sam’s absolutely fine.”
“Does he keep an eye on you?”
Danny felt her heart leap and then take off as though in fear for its life.
“Sam’s not a man,” she giggled nervously. “It’s short for Samantha.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “I see. But is there a man somewhere else then keeping an eye on you?”
“No,” she shook her head and screwed up her face in scorn. “I don’t need a man to keep an eye on me,” she added, ignoring the images of her secret fantasy of having a man watching over her which had popped unbidden into her mind and sent a rush of blood to her lower regions. “I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed, like risking not getting your work done on time?”
Danny sighed with exasperation and threw her hands up. “But I haven’t missed a deadline yet in over a year even if I’ve had to finish a couple at the last minute – like this one. I’m good with deadlines.”
The man standing in front of her was unmoved and apparently unimpressed with her argument.
“And have the columns you’ve rushed been as good as they might have been if you’d taken more care?” he asked levelly.
“They were good enough!” she blurted out without even considering the question. But were they? a little voice inside her head asked, and is ‘good enough’ really good enough?
“‘Good enough’, eh? But not as good as they could have been.”
Feeling like a schoolgirl answering to an authoritarian teacher, Danny creased her brow in a small frown, wondering how she’d found herself in this position and how he’d manipulated her into confessing she was sometimes more slapdash than she would really like.
“Well, Miss Ravenshaw,” he spoke abruptly. “I think you should skip your ride in the morning and get your work done.”
“No way! I’m not missing my ride. I’ll finish the column after.”
“I see. Well, maybe I should check to make sure you do, and that it is done properly.”
Danny blushed feeling a strange excitement flowing through her as she shuffled like a naughty schoolgirl in front of this big, gorgeous man who, there was no longer any doubt, was acting exactly like the men in her fantasies.
“And what if it isn’t?” she wanted to ask. What would be his answer, she wondered, feeling the heat pulsing between her thighs.
“Now you’d better get going,” he said briskly, stuffing his hands in his front pockets. “But it’s too late to party if you’re going to be up early enough to go for a ride and still have time to finish your work. You’d best go straight to bed.”
“But…”
He moved closer, taking his big hands out of his pockets and putting them gently but firmly on her shoulders.
“I don’t want to argue with you. I want you to go inside, straight to your room and to bed. Will you do that?”
Hypnotised by his mesmerising stare again, Danny licked her dry lips.
“But, the others… I should… Sara…” She managed to tear her eyes away from his and down to the floor.
“Look at me, Daniella,” he demanded. She obeyed allowing him to impale her again with his hypnotic eyes. He leaned forward; his face so close to hers she could feel his warm breath. “I want you to go inside and straight upstairs to bed without talking to anyone. And I want you to do this for me. Okay?”
Caught in his spotlight, she nodded uncertainly. “But –” she stammered again. He put a finger on her lips to stop her talking.
“Will you do this for me? Because I have asked you to?”
He moved his f
inger from her lips and cupped his hand around behind her head.
Her mind was whirling. Why was he doing this? Why was it so important to him that she go straight to bed? Did she want to? Did she want to obey him? Did she want to please him? The answer to that question was easy: she most definitely wanted to please him.
She nodded.
“Promise?” he pressed her. “Say it. Say you will do it because I said so.”
“I promise,” she whispered, feeling like she was someone else.
He waited. She could feel the tension from his taut muscles.
“Because you said so,” she whispered.
He gave a small nod and visibly relaxed.
“Right then, beautiful lady.”
Instead of letting her go, the hand which had been sitting around the back of her neck, gently caressed her, as he continued to hold her eyes with his.
“You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen,” he murmured. “So dark around the edges, the colour of grass and sunshine in the middle, and then black and mysterious at the very centre. Is that who you are too?”
She didn’t move, as an unspoken demand in his eyes held her captive and an irresistible force drew her toward him.
“Daniella,” he murmured, entrancing her with the sound of her name from his delicious lips. Slowly his head moved downwards towards her.
“He’s going to kiss me!” As his mouth moved closer, she felt her heart stop as her eyelids languidly drooped shut in submission, anticipating the sweet pressure of his mouth on hers.
“Danny? Danny?” The unexpected and unwanted intrusion of another voice broke the spell. She leapt back from him.
“Danny? Are you out there?” the voice called out again from the back door.
“Sara,” Danny managed to squeeze out through her suddenly violently chattering teeth.
“Quick. You’d better go,” he growled urgently.
Assuming he was afraid he might compromise his job if he were discovered seducing Henry’s guests, she turned to flee, but at the last second, he caught hold of her arm and swung her back towards him.
“Wait,” he growled. “Come tomorrow. Seven thirty exactly. I’ll be waiting. Don’t be late. I don’t like tardiness. And wear your hair in a ponytail.”
Danny’s Secret Desire Page 3
