Danny’s Secret Desire

by Carter, Polly

  His fingers were gripping her wrist tightly as he waited for her to answer.

  “What?”

  She was surprised both by his issuing orders to her, and even more so by the thrill which rippled through her.

  “Seven thirty. Don’t be late. Wear your hair in a ponytail. Did you hear that time?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, dropping her eyes.

  “Now go,” another order as Sara called again, this time from closer. He pushed her gently away from him and, as she turned, he slapped her firmly on her bottom.

  It stopped her in her tracks, but another slap and a growled, “Go,” sent her scurrying out of the stables and up the path towards the house almost colliding with Sara in the twilight shadows.

  “There you are! I’ve been hunting all over for you,” Sara chided her good-naturedly as they headed back to the house together.

  “I went to visit the horses,” Danny explained, keeping her face averted, afraid something there would betray her recent emotional encounter.

  “Yeah, I guessed as much when you weren’t in your room,” Sara said lightly as they reached the back door and entered the house.

  In the hall light, Sara’s own eyes were brighter than normal, and her cheeks flushed. Most likely the result of that one, two or maybe three stiff drinks. That, or Brandon Carlisle had arrived, Danny chuckled to herself.

  “Well, I’m off to bed,” she said, stifling a pretend yawn and hugging Sara, longing to be alone with these strange new feelings stirred up by the man in the stables. The last thing she wanted was to face the noisy merry makers she could hear in the sitting room. Despite the loud music, she could hear them talking and laughing over it.

  “It sounds like a good party, but I’ve had a really long day. I’m exhausted. And I’m going riding early.”

  “Aren’t you even going to come and say hello to the others? Come on. I came to find you specially because there’s someone I’m dying for you to meet.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Danny laughed.

  “No, not him,” Sara blushed. “Not Brandon Thingy. No, his name is George. George Dales. Don’t laugh,” she warned unnecessarily, “but I’ve always had a thing about Georges.” Adding quickly seeing Danny’s bewilderment, “I mean ‘George’ for me always conjured up the image of a drip. Like the last man who would ever be attractive or fun at all. Don’t ask me why. It just does – did,” she corrected herself. “Anyway, this George isn’t like that at all. Just the opposite,” she sighed dreamily.

  “That good, eh?” Danny laughed, used to Sara’s infatuations. “What about what’s-his-name then? You seem to have lost interest in him pretty quickly.”

  “Yeah, but what’d be the point?” Sara nodded a little unsteadily. “He’s brought his watchdog with him.”

  “What?”

  “His fiancée, the publicist. Vivienne Blackheart. Oh my God! She’s a witch, I reckon. Probably turns people into toads!”

  “Sara!” Danny was genuinely shocked by her friend’s vehemence. “I’m sure she can’t be as bad as all that.”

  “Oh yes, she is. Wait till you meet her. You’ll see. I pity any woman stupid enough to try and get past that gate-keeper.”

  “Thank goodness for George, then,” Danny smiled, giving her friend a hug. “And after that description, I’m definitely going to bed. Sounds like I need a good night’s sleep before I meet the virago.”

  “You sure you don’t want to meet the lovely George first?” Sara tried again, but Danny shook her head and kissed the other girl’s cheek.

  “Tomorrow’s soon enough. I’ll leave him in your hands for tonight.” She winked. “Apologise to the others for me, please?” she added. “I’ll see you tomorrow after my ride.”

  “Oh, okay,” Sara conceded, completely at a loss as to why anyone would rather go to bed at nine thirty instead of partying, but eager to get back to George.

  “Sara?” Danny called her back. “Did you know Forbes isn’t here anymore?”

  “Yes. Why?” Sara seemed surprised by the question. “He left a couple of months ago. Remember when I came with Crispin last time and you didn’t come. He wasn’t here then.”

  “Oh, I met the new guy.” Danny was fighting to make it sound completely casual and not important. “Did you meet him? I didn’t catch his name.”

  “Yeah. I met him briefly. Seems like a nice man, and I think Henry is more than happy with him. What was his name?” Sara scrunched up her face in an effort to remember. “I think it was Jones. Clarrie Jones, maybe. Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s it. Do you want me to ask Henry?”

  “Oh no. No. Don’t worry. It’s not important. Go on, go back to George.”

  Danny released Sara again to go party and made her way upstairs deep in thought. Clarrie? Like Sara and her George, Clarrie wasn’t quite what she was expecting. Did it fit at all? But, she reminded herself, as Shakespeare had pointed out ‘what’s in a name’?

  And what else had Sara said: “Seems like a nice man.” Nice? Not an adjective that had sprung to her mind, Danny thought. Gorgeous, definitely. Manly, oh yes. Dangerous, almost certainly.

  Upstairs in her room, Danny slipped out of her jeans and into a pale cream nightgown. Given to her as a present, and nothing like the practical pyjamas she usually chose for herself, it clung to her snugly and sensuously. Divesting her practical persona along with her day clothes, she loved the way it made her feel soft, feminine, vulnerable, even girly in the privacy of her room.

  Antique lace decorated the cuffs at her wrists and the low-scooped neckline, while gathers under the bust accentuated and supported her large breasts as the gown curved down over her belly and hips in sensuous folds.

  No man had ever seen her dressed in it; there had never been a man in her life she wanted to wear it for. That had changed tonight.

  She stood in front of the long mirror, imagining how he would react if he saw her like this. A shiver trickled down her spine as she relived the way his eyes had caressed her as they had brazenly, lingeringly travelled down her body, stopping appreciatively on the swell of her breasts.

  For the first time in her life, she had enjoyed being so appreciated by a man, more than that she had revelled in it, feeling a wantonness buried inside her she hadn’t realized existed.

  Her senses alive to new possibilities, her mind feverish and restless, she padded to the window to gaze out in the direction of the stables reliving the moment she had first seen him leading the horses in from the paddock. Silently she willed him to reappear, hoping, wishing, longing to catch another glimpse.

  The sound of the others floated up to her through the open French windows leading from the drawing room below. Peals of laughter mingled with the buzz of conversation and the occasional loud call. She pictured Henry and Semina so happy together and so much in love, Sara and the new man to whom she seemed to have taken such a fancy, Brandon Carlisle and his fiancée, Vivienne – it was definitely a night made for love.

  As the twilight deepened, a large yellow moon peered at her over the row of beech trees lining the circular drive. It seemed to reproach her for being alone on such a romantic night, and she sighed in wistful agreement. Having at last met a man who could set her pulse racing, her skin tingling, and her lips yearning for his, she was impatient to experience the thrill of his presence again.

  Reluctantly she climbed into bed, sure her excitement would keep her awake, but wanting the night to pass as quickly as possible. She snuggled down into the bed’s welcoming softness and closed her eyes. As clearly as though he was really still with her, she could see his face, feel his presence, hear his voice: “Seven thirty. Don’t be late. Wear your hair in a ponytail.”

  It was not a request; it was an order. No other man had ever issued such an order to Danny and, she thought grimly, they would have been wasting their time if they had. But this man was different. His confident assurance that she would do as he decreed thrilled her to her deepest being. Although she hadn’t yet decided if she woul
d wear her hair in a ponytail or not, she felt a surge of lustful pleasure imagining she had and picturing him noting her obedience.

  Despite her fears, and her excitement, sleep came easily but, as she slipped away, an unfamiliar thought crept unbidden and unexpected into her mind: “I could fall in love with this man.”

  In the instant it flashed through her mind, she knew that it was true.

  Chapter 3

  At seven twenty-five the next morning, as she approached the stables, Danny stopped briefly to collect her thoughts and drink in the heady exquisiteness of the morning. Although it promised to be quite warm later, a hint of the night’s coolness remained in the air caressing her slightly flushed cheeks.

  Her eyes fixed on the stables in front of her, she reached up and touched the band holding the long chestnut curls back off her face. What would be the consequences of her having so easily obeyed his command: Wear your hair in a ponytail?

  The argument she had had with herself when she’d first got out of bed about whether to obey or defy his command had been surprisingly short. Although the thought of complying had thrilled her—how often had she fantasised about being in the control of a gorgeous, strong, confident man?—her independent side had vetoed doing a complete stranger’s bidding.

  Besides, her common sense whispered, could she trust him? She knew nothing about him other than Henry thought him sufficiently trustworthy to employ. He must have come with good references, mustn’t he? Surely.

  But, walking out of her bedroom with her hair curled around in a knot on her head she was less certain and, as she pulled the back door behind her, she also pulled her hair out and retied it in a ponytail finally unable to resist seeing what would come next.

  Inside the stables she could hear the horses moving around, and the low sound of his voice talking to them. ‘Don’t be late’ he had warned her. So, despite the pounding of her heart and the knot scrunching her stomach into a ball, Danny steeled herself to face him again and went in.

  “Good morning.”

  “Morning.” He turned immediately at the sound of her greeting. His reply was casual but, as they had done the previous evening, his eyes sauntered boldly and appreciatively over her body, sculpted by tight jodhpurs and a fitted, open-necked shirt which accentuated the swell of her breasts and provided a tantalising hint of cleavage, and then up to her hair. He finished his silent inspection and gave a slight nod of approval.

  “Perfect. Exactly on time, and even more beautiful in daylight.”

  Crossing the few steps that separated them, he raised his hand to stroke her cheek and then ran his fingers across her trembling lips.

  “Succulent,” he murmured. “I just bet these are delicious, and I can’t wait to taste them.”

  Danny felt the strength drain from her. Whatever happened next, she doubted she would be able to resist. Would he kiss her? She so wanted him to.

  But he took a step back.

  “First things first. We’ve promised the horses a ride, and besides a pleasure delayed is a pleasure doubled, eh, Miss Ponytail?”

  The ponytail had been all that was needed for him to know how easily he had bent her to his will but, as he released his hold on her, the butterflies in her tummy, which had settled a little since her initial entry into the stables, flapped their wings anxiously again. She needed to assert herself and regain some of her power.

  Besides, she worked herself up crossly, why did he feel he could take for granted that she had worn her hair in a ponytail just because he had demanded it of her? How could he be certain she wouldn’t have done so anyway?

  She needed to put him in his place, remind him that it was actually she who was in charge here while she was Henry’s guest and he just Henry’s employee.

  “Miss Ravenshaw,” she corrected him tersely, reaching up and twisting her hair into a knot on her head.

  The small smile playing about his lips didn’t falter.

  “I think I’ll take Bella out now. Is she ready, Jones?”

  “Jones, eh?” She thought she saw him start, then relax again, his grin broadening.

  “I know you didn’t introduce yourself last night, but Sara mentioned your name when I said I’d been at the stables,” she explained matter-of-factly as though it had been of no interest to her.

  “So you didn’t go straight to bed without speaking to anyone.”

  She ignored his question.

  “So, is ‘Jones’ satisfactory? I don’t remember Forbes being called anything else but ‘Forbes’. I don’t think I even knew his first name, but I can call you Clarrie, if you’d prefer.”

  “Clarrie? Yes, I like the way you say that. Call me Clarrie. Or Claz maybe.”

  For a disconcerting moment, she thought he was about to burst out laughing. Because he wasn’t fooled by her pretence of disinterest? Danny wondered uncomfortably, annoyed with him for finding her so amusing.

  “‘Jones’ will do,” she said in as haughty a tone as she could manage, unthinkingly tossing her head. The makeshift knot on her head came loose, releasing her hair and her ponytail swung back and forth.

  He stepped in front of her, blocking her path. He was so close she had to tilt her head up to see him.

  “So you didn’t go straight to bed like I said last night?”

  “I did go to bed straight away as a matter of fact.” She was trying to peer down her nose at him, but him being so tall made it difficult. “Because I was exhausted. I’d had a long day.”

  “But you discussed me with someone? Clarrie Jones?”

  “Oh.” Danny let her breath out. “No. Yes. Sara told me. It was her that was calling me last night. But I was too tired to join in the partying.” Just so he didn’t think he was the reason she’d gone straight to bed.

  For a moment, he studied her. She couldn’t move without pushing past, so she had to wait.

  “Is that right?” he almost whispered. Then he stood aside to allow her access to Bella’s stall.

  As she took a step towards the stalls, she noted with surprise and sudden panic that both horses were saddled and bridled. She turned to him.

  “Why is King saddled?”

  “I’m coming with you. Make sure you’re safe.” It was a statement, not an offer.

  “I’m a good rider. I always go on my own. I don’t need looking after.”

  She was proud of her riding prowess and hadn’t ever given a second thought to riding alone, but as terrifying as was the thought of his accompanying her, it was also exciting, and she was secretly tickled pink.

  “I’m sure you are,” he answered firmly, “but nonetheless I’m coming whether you like it or not. I’ve told Henry I’d take King out for him this morning, and besides what would the boss say if ‘Jones’ didn’t take proper care of you and something bad happened to one of his guests,” he added with a grin.

  Confused again by why he found her so amusing, and disappointed that he was apparently only accompanying her because he regarded it as part of his job, she moved to turn away, but he reached out and stopped her.

  “Look at me.” It was an order she couldn’t refuse, and she raised her eyes to his.

  She felt a frisson jolt through her as she was captured again by the blue depths of his eyes. His voice had told her to mind herself, but she sensed something else too, a gentleness that she didn’t quite recognise, couldn’t put a name to, but which made her heart aching and heavy in her chest.

  “Okay, let’s get going.” Another order. “Before I decide to do something else.”

  Danny had no idea what that ‘something else’ might be but wasn’t sure she wanted to find out either. She scurried into Bella’s stall, took hold of her reins and watched as King was led from his stall and out through the stable door into the morning sunshine.

  Following behind, she could again feast her eyes on this gorgeous being who’d materialised so unexpectedly into her life. His broad shoulders were unmistakable under the long-sleeved button-through black shirt he wore
loose over his denims. She loved the casual way he looked in his tight blue jeans, so sexy, so manly but was glad that, as they would be riding, conversation would be difficult.

  A thrill rippled through her each time his eyes met hers, and her discreet admiration of his strong arms, slim hips and tight thighs was pleasurable in a dangerous and disconcerting way. But she was so inexperienced, so out of her depth, she seemed to be tongue-tied in his presence and was glad she could be in his company without having to speak.

  Danny checked and tightened Bella’s girth one more notch, then gathered her reins to mount. Coming up behind, he offered her a leg-up as she took hold of the saddle.

  “I can manage, thank you,” she said coolly, ignoring his attempt to help her.

  “Give me your leg. And don’t argue.”

  For a brief moment she was conflicted. She wanted to argue. She wanted to ask, ‘or what’? She wanted to say nothing and obediently do as she was told.

  Both horses, eager for an early-morning ride, had begun to dance and toss their heads impatiently.

  “Quick now,” he growled.

  The moment to argue had passed. She bent her left leg backwards allowing him to take hold, and as she gave a little jump, he helped her up into the saddle.

  “There,” he patted her thigh as she settled in and put her feet in the stirrups “that wasn’t so hard after all, was it? You right then?”

  She nodded, her thigh burning from his touch, and then watched in admiration as he swung himself easily and gracefully onto King’s tall back, blushing when he caught her staring.

  “You lead the way,” he told her, holding King back so she could go first. “I’ll stay a bit behind. That way I can keep an eye on you. Don’t go faster than a trot unless I tell you to.”

  Stunned by his last command, Danny turned to him, but meeting with an unflinching challenge to object she decided against it. Instead, she silently led the way from the stables back through the gate into the horses’ paddock and down to another gate in the far bottom corner. Once through that gate, they were on a bridle path with a stream on one side and, after a short distance, woods on the other.