Danny’s Secret Desire

by Carter, Polly

  With a deep sigh, Danny pulled her hair back and secured it on top of her head. Through the window, she could see they were entering the village, and only a few minutes from the cricket ground. Mustering all the bitterness and anger she felt towards Brandon Carlisle, she felt strong enough to face him again.

  She had nothing of which to feel ashamed; he was the deceitful, cruel monster, and she would hold her head high. He would never know to what heights of excitement he had briefly raised her, nor how she had since been crushed and shattered by the subsequent fall.

  Alighting from the car in the car park, she closed the door firmly behind her, also shutting away all thoughts of Brandon Carlisle as anything other than a stranger. She couldn’t avoid him altogether, but he would find her polite and disinterested. Nothing more.

  Inside the clubhouse, players from both teams were happily partaking in some pre-game socialising. Good natured banter and raucous laughter greeted Henry as he announced that the opposing team, captained by Dean Holmes, the local doctor, was one man short.

  After a short discussion, it was decided that Brandon, who was apparently a fair batsman, would play on Dean’s team, and his place on Henry’s would be taken by George, who couldn’t play at all and had to set about finding a pair of white trousers.

  “Don’t worry, old bean,” Henry reassured him, clapping him on the back. “I’ll make you number eleven, so hopefully you won’t need to bat. At least that’s the plan. And I can hide you on the field somewhere. You may have to pick up and throw the odd ball, but I reckon you can manage that.”

  Outside, the grounds were filling with spectators. The news that Brandon Carlisle was at the game had travelled faster than a flu virus through the small, close-knit population, and a small army of fans was arriving. Most carried autograph books and secret dreams of being singled out for special attention: an extra word, the opportunity to touch him or, for the ladies, the ultimate prize – a kiss. More than one young, and not so young, woman even dreamed of his falling in love with her at first sight.

  Checking the team lists on the notice board, Danny was a little shocked to see she was the only female player.

  “Well it seems you might get the opportunity to throw something at me after all,” a voice chuckled in her ear. Spinning around, she found Brandon standing far too close for comfort, although, with the number of people crushed into the too small room, he didn’t really have an option.

  “The ball, I mean,” he explained. “You’re listed as a bowler, I see. And as I’m on the other team, I guess you could be bowling to me. Should I be worried?”

  “You can be what and whomever you want, apparently,” Danny replied coolly.

  He winced exaggeratedly. “Ouch.”

  “Excuse me, I need to join my team.” Blood pounding in her ears, Danny pushed past and lost him in the crowd.

  The other captain won the toss and chose to bat first, so Henry’s team took the field with their opening bowlers warming up.

  Off to a good start, they managed to take the first two wickets for only three runs, but then the other team settled down a little, adding twenty-seven more runs. The third wicket finally fell due to a mix-up in the middle which left one batsman stranded while the bales were casually removed.

  As the luckless player returned to the dressing room, a cheer went up from the crowd heralding the arrival of Brandon Carlisle to the crease. He waved his bat in acknowledgement to the crowd and gave an almost imperceptible bow to Danny as he strode past.

  “Show off,” she thought crossly. “I hope you get out first ball!” He didn’t, however, instead playing with flair and natural grace, and at no time looking like he might easily be dislodged.

  “Danny,” she heard William call. “Henry wants you to warm up.”

  “Oh no,” Danny cried. “Isn’t there someone else who can bowl? I can’t bowl in front of this many people!” Or to the one person that really mattered, she didn’t add aloud. But neither William nor Henry were listening, and she had no choice but to obey her captain’s request.

  “Come on. Get another run,” she silently urged the barber as he faced the final ball of the over. “Please,” she begged as the ball left the bowler’s hand and went spinning down the pitch. The batsman was forced to play defensively, and he watched in fright as the ball just missed his stumps on its way through to the keeper.

  “Over,” called the umpire as Danny nervously made her way to the pitch, and Brandon prepared to face her.

  “Hey, they’re giving a girl a bowl,” called a group of young men from the boundary breaking into raucous laughter. “Hey, Carlisle, this should be an easy six!”

  The good-natured but rather tasteless catcalls from the crowd fired up Danny’s determination. Wiping the perspiration from her hands, she began her run up, but as soon as the ball left her hand she knew it was over-pitched and could do nothing except watch as Brandon easily dispatched it to the boundary for four runs. The crowd cheered their hero’s runs as he moved to twenty-nine on the scoreboard.

  The next two balls were better, and he managed only two off each. By the fourth ball, however, Danny had found some rhythm, and Brandon was able to score only one more run from her over.

  “I’ll get you yet,” she mouthed as Brandon gave her a congratulatory nod in appreciation of the duel.

  Although she bowled a second and third over, and succeeded in dismissing the barber, she didn’t get another chance to bowl to Brandon until her fourth and final over. She bowled the first five balls, and whilst he was forced to defend two of them, by the time she turned for the final run-up of her spell, Brandon had made another five runs and was on forty-seven.

  “Six. Six. Six.” the crowd chanted, willing Brandon to score his half-century.

  “Out. Out. Out.” Danny countered to herself.

  Running in to bowl her final ball, she caught Brandon’s eye and a sudden picture of him humiliating her by the lake exploded in her brain at the precise moment she swung her arm over and released the ball. Brandon, caught off guard by the sudden extra pace, attempted to hit it to the fence but misjudged it and got a top edge.

  Up the ball went in too steep a trajectory, and when it finally fell short of the boundary Henry had positioned himself right underneath. Danny clapped with glee as down it came, straight into Henry’s safe waiting hands.

  As the umpire’s finger went up, Brandon gave a small clap of congratulations in Danny’s direction, which she ignored, and walked back to the dressing room to deafening applause from the spectators.

  Meanwhile, Danny’s team crowded around her, slapping her on the back and congratulating her on taking the wicket.

  * * *

  The rest of the afternoon, Danny managed to avoid any further contact with Brandon Carlisle. She’d been dreading the lunch break, but Vivienne had apparently become fed up with the attention he was receiving from the locals and whisked him away to the nearby town of Needham Market. They arrived back just as his team were taking their places on the field for the start of the second innings.

  Danny sat with the rest of the Farthingale Cottage party to watch her team bat and cheer on Henry who had opened. The target to win was eighty-eight runs, and once he’d made his fifty and William had joined him at the crease, they did it easily.

  Henry received a hero’s welcome as he returned to the clubhouse. Few people actually cared who won; they were happy to celebrate either way, and the after-party generally lasted most of the evening. Tonight, however, the party would be at Farthingale Cottage, and Henry and Semina were eager to get back to oversee the final preparations.

  “Hey, you chaps haven’t seen Brandon and Vivienne, by chance, have you?” Henry asked Sara, George, Danny and Will who were finishing off their drinks at the bar while waiting for the others. “Semina and I are pretty much ready to go but we seem to have lost our passengers.”

  “I could come with you if that helps,” Danny offered, happy to leave straight away and reduce the risk of bum
ping into Brandon Carlisle again any earlier than absolutely necessary.

  “Someone else will have to go, too, though,” Will pointed out. “Or it won’t work.”

  Sara raised her hand. “I’ll go with Danny.” She turned to George adding, “Is that okay, Georgie?”

  He nodded his head and smiled. “Sure, sweetie.”

  Danny stood and picked up her bag. Henry passed her his keys.

  “You go and unlock if you like. I’ll find Semina and let her know what’s happening and meet you at the car. It’s in the same row as the Merc but closer to the gate.”

  “Okay. I’ll find it. You coming?” Danny asked Sara, but Sara pointed to her drink. “Just give me a minute. I’ll be there in a jiff.”

  Waiting in the Range Rover, Danny’s heart sunk as she saw Brandon approaching on his own, waving away a few sticky fans.

  “Oh,” he said surprised as he opened the door and saw her sitting in the back seat. “I thought you were Vivienne. What are you doing here? Are you coming with us? You’ll have to sit on my knee.”

  “No, I won’t,” Danny snapped. “You and Vivienne are going with Will and George because Henry couldn’t find you and was ready to leave.”

  “Well, I’m here now.” Brandon spread his arms and climbed in.

  Danny could feel her face burning as she squashed further over against her door. She felt sick.

  “Too bad.” She turned to look at him with all the loathing she could muster. “Sara will be here in a minute, so you’ll just have to leave.”

  “But I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you on your bowling,” he grinned. “Quite the surprise package, aren’t you?”

  “Why? Because you didn’t think a woman could bowl you out?” she snapped.

  “No, you little vixen,” he laughed as he held up a hand to mimic defending himself against her attack, then added in a softer voice. “I am all too aware of how easily a woman can get through a man’s defences, but I thought you were a sweet and gentle girl. I didn’t know how hard you throw things when you get mad.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she replied coldly, hiding her trembling hands and avoiding his piercing eyes, knowing how easily they could transfix her. She was not going to fall under his spell again!

  “It’s true,” he murmured, his voice as soft and hypnotic as his hand had been gently caressing her breast earlier that morning. “And I am thoroughly enjoying finding out. You are more fascinating by the minute, and I intend to learn as much as I possibly can about you.”

  At that moment, Henry, Semina and Sara arrived at the car denying her the chance of shooting back an angry retort.

  “Congratulating the victor, eh, Brandon?” Henry joked amiably as he opened the car door for Semina, then made his way around to the driver’s side. “Danny’s told you about the changed transport arrangements for the trip back, I take it.”

  “Aye, she did, but I’m here anyway. Will can escort Vivienne back and you don’t mind going with George, do you, Sara?” He gave her a little wink, and Sara beamed.

  “No, I don’t mind at all. That okay with you, Dan?” Sara was keen to get back to George, and as she was still totally unaware of the current flowing between Danny and Brandon, assumed Danny would get a kick out of travelling with the gorgeous, famous TV star.

  Without even waiting for an answer, she gave a quick wave and tottered off to find George.

  Danny’s heart sunk. She just wanted to get away from this man sitting next to her. Only a couple of hours ago, she had thought he might be the answer to her dreams: a strong, unbearably handsome man, with a similar background, and hopes for the future that matched hers. But that was before she had discovered the horrible truth.

  Instead of being a down-to-earth man doing an honest day’s work, he had turned out to be a vain and spoilt celebrity, and clearly a playboy to boot. Maybe it would be unfair to totally condemn him on that ground alone, but worse, far, far worse, was the shabby trick he’d played on her.

  If he were a gentleman, as soon as it had become clear that she had mistaken him for Henry’s employee, he would have tactfully explained her error and saved her from further embarrassing herself. Instead, and her face turned rage-red at the memory, he had led her on, pretending to be someone, something, he wasn’t, and pretending an interest in her just so he could amuse himself while degrading her further. All the while engaged to another woman!

  If she had been prepared to believe the worst of him when she hadn’t even met him, she now felt she had actually been way too kind. He was, without doubt, the most horrid and despicable person she had ever met.

  “Great,” said Brandon with a triumphant grin, clipping on his seat belt.

  “Will Will be all right with Vivienne?” Semina turned her head to speak to Brandon, then blushed and stammered when she realised how that had sounded. “I mean will Vivienne mind you leaving her with Will? She won’t be angry?”

  Brandon laughed. “Don’t worry. Will’s known Viv nearly as long as I. They get on like a house on fire. They’ll be fine.”

  Leaving the grounds turned out to be a slow process as swarms of people crossed the car park, and cars lucky enough to have got a spot in the grounds inched toward the exit.

  “This is all your fault, I hope you realize, Brandon?” Henry pretended to growl. “I can’t remember the number of times I’ve been to charity cricket matches here and there’s never, ever been this many people before.”

  “Ah well,” countered Brandon with similar mock earnestness, “I don’t believe it was me that advertised that I’d be here, so unless somebody used my name for publicity without my consent, I think it must really be you they all came to see.”

  “Ahh,” Henry intoned weightily pretending to have been caught out. “Yes, well then, perhaps you’re right after all. What do you think, darling?” he asked turning to Semina and posturing proudly. “Do you think the throng were here to marvel at me?”

  “I think you are a lovable idiot,” Semina told him fondly, “and I can’t imagine that anyone could not adore you as much as I do, but, in this case, I’m sorry, sweetheart, I suspect you probably were not the major draw card.”

  Throughout the bantering going on around her, Danny had pretended to be watching out the window. The truth was, however, that every nerve in her body was tuned into the man sitting beside her, and she couldn’t think of anything else. Angry and hurt as she still was by his deception and his humiliating treatment of her, she was nonetheless as vulnerable as ever to his nearness.

  Although her head was turned away, she had the same eerie experience of feeling she could see him even when she wasn’t looking at him. As he chatted with the couple in the front, he turned back to her now and again, and each time he did she felt a chill run down her spine and the tiny hairs at the base of her neck spring up with a warning of danger.

  Far from finding this reaction exciting as she had done previously, she just felt disgusted with herself. At no other time in her life, ever, had she allowed a man to treat her as she had allowed him to, not even after dating them for a while. What a pushover he must think her. No wonder he was hanging around, sensing an easy conquest, another notch on his bedpost.

  And she could hardly protest her innocence, that she wasn’t ‘that kind of girl’. She had been exactly ‘that kind of girl’, undressing for him, allowing him to fondle her breasts, and then… she shuddered with shame, and hated him more as she imagined what she must have looked like bent over the tree, her knickers pulled down, her bottom glowing from the hard slaps from his hand. How could she have submitted to him so easily?

  She desperately just wanted to get away and forget him, forget the last twenty-four hours had ever happened, but with him only inches away, like a star-struck teenager her senses were still overwhelmed by him.

  From the corner of her eye she could see his right hand resting by his leg. She marvelled again at its beauty: big enough to be protective, gentle enough to be tender
, hard enough to be punishing.

  As he chatted easily with Henry and Semina, her ears drank in the sound of his voice, and her nostrils inflamed with the musky, sweet aroma which emanated from him. Never had she smelled so intoxicating a scent, and she was powerless to prevent a sudden image of herself held tight against his hard, sculpted chest as his mouth came down and…

  “Danny?” The sound of her name brought her back to reality.

  “Sorry,” she stammered breathlessly. “What was that?”

  “I was just saying,” Semina repeated, “that I think they’re both wrong. I think word got about that there was going to be a great woman bowler playing, and it was really you they came to see. And you are something of a celebrity yourself, are you not?”

  “Hardly,” Danny chided her, feeling her cheeks colour again as Brandon turned to face her. Not enjoying having the spotlight turned on her, Danny tried to divert the conversation.

  “I suppose there’ll be hundreds of people at the party tonight,” she said airily, but Brandon was not to be so easily put off.

  “What’s this about you being so repugnant a thing as a celebrity?” he teased. “I thought you such an honourable girl, but it seems you were deceiving me about your true identity.”

  “I’ve done nothing of the sort,” she retorted hotly. How dare he? After what he’d done to her? He was insufferable.

  “Yes, you have,” he continued, refusing to let her off the hook and apparently finding great enjoyment in her discomfiture. “You have an unfair advantage. You know all about me,” he said and grinned to remind her of the morning they’d spent together as well as her unflattering description of him the previous evening, “but I have been kept in the dark about your true identity. What if I were to inadvertently say the wrong thing?”

  “My Bluestocking column. That’s all Semina is talking about,” Danny said, her anger dissolving into a mixture of frustration and sadness. How could he be so cruel? He was intent on tormenting her as if she were no more than some poor tiny creature caught in the merciless grasp of a heartless schoolboy.