Danny’s Secret Desire

by Carter, Polly

  “I guess I was a bit…” Danny tried to talk but her teeth were chattering so hard it was difficult for her to speak.

  “Shh,” he stopped her with a gentle finger to her lips. “It doesn’t matter. You have accepted we belong together. You are not going back on that, are you?”

  She gave a tiny shake of her head.

  “Promise me.” This time it was an order, the urgency in his voice matched by the tension in his hands as he held her face toward him. His eyes burned into hers as he awaited her answer. “Promise me.”

  “Yes,” she breathed unable to resist him. “Yes!” she cried again, this time louder, and in her heart, she knew that it was the answer to not just this question, but any he might ask her.

  A soft sigh of surrender breathed into the night between them as she calmly awaited her fate. The universe held its breath for the seconds they stood motionless.

  “Daniella.” His soft murmur of her name was as sweet as the truest lover’s kiss.

  “Yes,” she whispered again, exquisite agony coursing through her as his hands gripped her arms, lifting her up to him. His head bent toward her and with the softness of butterfly wings, his lips brushed hers sending a white-hot flash of ecstasy shimmering through her veins.

  Her hands fluttered helplessly against his chest, but whether to hold onto him or push him away she couldn’t tell.

  As exciting and tantalising as these new feelings were, they were also terrifying, and she whimpered against the feather light touch of his mouth as his lips ever so gently brushed hers.

  She heard him growl with thick desire, a desire heavily underscored as he quickly pulled her into his arms, one arm across her back, the other cupping her bottom and crushing her against him so she could feel the hardness of his erection pressed against her belly.

  As his mouth opened wider, he lifted her up higher against him, so only her toes were on the ground and his groin was perfectly positioned, level with the entrance of his desire.

  His lips moved hungrily against hers, and his tongue demanded she open to him. Incapable of resisting, she relaxed, allowing him access to her hot, wet mouth. She felt his urgency increase, the arm across her back slipping to her waist to hold her firmly against him, while his other hand slipped around the front to close over her breast.

  Danny felt herself swooning, in danger of losing consciousness altogether as Brandon masterfully claimed her body as his prize. His hand slid down the front of her dress and under her bra brushing roughly against her hardening nipple.

  “No.” The sob was a last forlorn effort to defend herself as an intense primal desire coursed through her body, stopping at the apex of her thighs, filling and swelling her with heat and juice. That single word was all she had; she was at his mercy.

  But at the sound of her voice, he took his hand from her breast and pulled back. Taking a step away, he kicked a nearby tree as he muttered a barely audible curse.

  Dismayed by his anger and sudden and complete withdrawal, tears of abandonment welled up, threatening to spill onto her cheeks.

  Quickly, whilst his back was still to her, she wiped them away and managed to regain some composure. Clearly, he wasn’t used to women resisting his lovemaking and just as obviously, despite his sweet words, he didn’t really find her attractive enough to warrant putting too much effort into seducing her.

  But even as this painful thought resounded in her head, he turned back, and, as if sensing she’d been about to flee, he placed his hands against the tree behind her, pinning her to it.

  “Brandon, don’t,” she begged.

  “Don’t worry,” he ordered her tersely, the tic at his temple beating in time with her pulse. “I’m not going to do anything.” He paused, wryly shaking his head as he studied her face. “Not that I don’t want to,” he assured her, removing one hand from the tree to gently curl her hair behind her ears. “My God, all I want to do is make love to you right here in the moonlight.”

  His finger gently traced the outline of the lips he’d so recently possessed, and she shivered at his touch. Her eyes half-closed expectantly; she might want to flee but was unable to resist.

  “But I’m not going to.”

  Danny recoiled as if he’d struck her. What a fool she’d made of herself, she thought miserably. Offering him total access to her, only to be rejected.

  She was just like all the rest of them, practically throwing herself at him, and he didn’t even want what she was offering enough to accept her proffered gift. Hot flashes of shame seared through her, and she tried to escape.

  “Wait,” he ordered roughly. “I haven’t finished, let me explain.”

  “There’s no need,” she said, mustering what dignity she still had left. “I understand. You can have any woman you want.”

  “Apparently not,” he interrupted dryly, eyeing her with a glint of amusement. “Apparently not the only woman I want. But I will have you. I will make love to you, over and over again. But not tonight. I am going to prove to you that I am not the Casanova you believe me to be. That I’m not playing games. I’ve been waiting a long time for a woman like you, Daniella. Now that I’ve found you, I can wait a little longer until you accept that I am deadly serious and my dishonourable intentions are entirely honourable.”

  She giggled as he brushed her lips with his and continued.

  “As much as I want you, I am not going to pressure you into sex or anything else. You will give yourself to me, mind and body, freely because it is what you want more than anything in the world, because you accept that we belong together, and you accept what being my woman means—all of it.”

  His hand slid down over her breast and round behind to squeeze her buttocks. He looked deeply into her eyes, and the incident at the lake flashed across Danny’s mind. Her throat constricted, her mouth dried, and her eyes opened wide. She understood exactly what he was saying, he would not make love to her until she agreed to surrender herself completely to him, accepting his lovemaking and his authority.

  She clamped her jaws tight, afraid he would hear the clatter of her teeth, as a violent shiver shook her.

  “Come on,” he said firmly. “I’m going to get you back to the house and your bed. You’re tired and getting cold. You need to think, and I need to get away from temptation while I still can.”

  Gingerly, as if afraid he might frighten her, he leaned forward and gently brushed her cheek with his lips.

  “And you are altogether too much temptation, my beautiful girl. But I will be at the stables at eight in the morning for your answer. Come with your hair in two plaits and call me Jones. That will by my answer.”

  He kissed her once more on the lips, not hard and demanding, but sweetly and slowly until Danny felt her insides melt with longing and an aching desire for more.

  “Come on then,” he muttered thickly, taking her hand and without speaking again led her back along the path to the house. As they reached the lights, he swung to face her. “Until morning, sweet girl. Eight o’clock at the stables. Okay?”

  “Yes,” she murmured, dazed by the weekend’s events.

  “If you are not there,” he said crisply. “I will accept that as your answer and leave you alone forever.”

  Dropping a quick kiss on her forehead, he pointed her in the direction of the door and then strode off into the darkness on the other side of the dance floor.

  As she fled to the safety of her room, Danny smiled weakly at the stragglers still entwined to the music which was now coming from a play list on Henry’s computer, the band having packed up and gone home.

  That night was both the longest and shortest of her life. Feverishly tossing and turning, unable to sleep, her thoughts and emotions in chaos, the night seemed endless. Yet, as her phone told her the clock was ticking ever closer to the deadline Brandon had imposed, she felt she’d had no time at all to come to a decision.

  Only a few short hours after Danny had gone to bed, the bird chorus heralded the arriving dawn, and eight o’c
lock loomed like a cliff over which Danny couldn’t avoid falling.

  Her muscles aching from having been tensed all night, she slipped out of bed and stared out of her window, sat on her bed, and paced the floor.

  At last, as time to get ready and not be late was running out, she knew only one decision was possible. Of course she wouldn’t put her hair in plaits and meet Brandon at the stables. To do so would be a plain statement of total submission and surrender.

  Danny’s fists clenched into tight white balls. It was ridiculous to be even considering such a thing. Fantasies were one thing, she had discovered, but reality something else. She would go back to bed and sleep.

  She slipped back under the covers and began breathing deeply. Her decision made, she calmly closed her eyes. She would sleep, and when she woke, she would put this weekend behind her. She would never see Brandon Carlisle again.

  Her eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright, gasping for breath, a sick feeling of dread knotting her insides.

  She was panicking. Why? What terrible catastrophe was about to happen?

  She would never see Brandon Carlisle again! It hit her like a brick thrown through her window. A wave of grief swept over her as she contemplated the consequences of failing to keep the appointment. She would never see him again, never hear his voice, never feel his arms around her, never taste his kisses, never make love with him.

  With absolute certainty she knew the only question she had to answer was not, could she live with Brandon Carlisle and his demands? It was, could she live without him? And the answer was a resounding no!

  Jumping out of bed, she hurriedly pulled on her jeans and shirt, rushed to the bathroom, cleaned her teeth, washed her face and plaited her hair. Already nearly five minutes late, she peeped out of her bedroom door and, seeing the way was clear, fled through the house, out the back door, down the path and into the stables.

  “Jones,” she cried in relief as she burst through the door.

  Chapter 9

  Utter silence greeted Danny as her eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the empty stables.

  “Jones,” she called out again, more softly and tentatively this time.

  No answer.

  Taking out her phone, she checked the time. 8:07. Surely, he hadn’t left already. Okay, so she was a few minutes late, but he would have waited, wouldn’t he? Of course, Danny thought, he was just running late too, what with the party and the late night and lack of sleep. Reassured, she plonked herself down on a hay bale from where she could see through the door and a little way up the path and waited. And waited.

  She checked her phone again. 8:10.

  8:15. Why was time passing so slowly?

  8:18. Why wasn’t he here?

  Her thick plaits felt like lead, silently weighing her down with her foolishness. Having made the decision to come, her body had burned with exhilaration but now that feverish excitement was turning to icy dread.

  What if he had come and when she hadn’t arrived by eight o’clock, he’d left? What if he believed she had forsaken him? She must go and find him, she decided, leaping up from the hay bale and making for the door.

  She stopped dead, hit by a wicked thought that pierced her heart like a knife. What if he’d never intended to be here? What if he were hidden, watching her from somewhere nearby? Laughing, seeing her running to the stables with her hair in plaits? Congratulating himself, while thinking what a gullible little fool she was?

  Completely gutted, Danny fell back onto the hay bale, and curled herself into the smallest ball she could manage as tears rolled down her cheeks and silent sobs racked her body.

  * * *

  “Danny? Danny? Danny, are you in here?”

  Danny’s eyes opened, but she had no idea where she was or when it was until the memory struck her like a kick in the gut. She was in the stables where Brandon had told her to meet him, but he hadn’t shown. He’d just set her up to make a fool of her.

  “Danny?” Sara’s voice called again.

  “Here,” Danny replied as Sara came through the door and found her in a huddled heap.

  “Danny!” Sara rushed over to her. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? What are you doing in here?”

  “I... I…” stammered Danny, keeping her face hidden. “I was looking for something and accidentally fell asleep. Late night.”

  “Goodness,” said Sara. “What on earth were you looking for here? The horses are a bit too big to lose, even in the dark,” she laughed. “We were all wondering where you’d got to. You’ve been distinctly strange and elusive this weekend, you know. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Danny lied. “What time is it? Who’s wondering where I am?”

  “It’s after nine thirty. Come on,” Sara said kindly, holding out her hand, ignoring Danny’s last question. “Hop up. You must have had more to drink last night than I thought, eh? You didn’t sleep here all night, did you? No, you’re not still in your dress so you must have been to your room. You missed breakfast – again!”

  Sara helped Danny up and pulled some loose bits of hay off her shirt.

  “Who even are you?” She grinned. “You sort of look like Danny Ravenshaw, but you’re not behaving like her. I mean, if I woke up dishevelled in a stable, no one would blink an eye, but it’s not exactly the sort of thing Miss Restrained Ravenshaw is famous for, is it?”

  Standing back, Sara contemplated her friend as Danny stripped the ties from her hair and pulled the plaits out, pretending she was doing it to get the hay out. She wanted to be rid of the masquerade she’d adopted for Brandon. She didn’t want to risk him seeing the plaits and having another laugh at her expense.

  “Are we leaving soon?” she asked. “I think I’d like to get home.”

  “Yes, if you don’t mind, that’s what I was hoping to do. I’m ready,” Sara answered, and Danny hid a sigh of relief. “George has just left, but we organised to meet up this afternoon in town for a late lunch, so I thought we could head off soon as you’re ready?”

  “Suits me,” Danny replied. “Is everyone else still here?” She tried to make it sound casual but had to know if she was likely to bump into Brandon. She didn’t want to do that.

  “Only Henry and Semina,” Sara replied.

  Danny felt a sharp stab of grief. How she could feel such a sense of loss when she had been so deceived and betrayed? Her first opinion of him had turned out to be right after all, despite his pretty words and award-winning performance.

  “And the others,” Danny finished lamely, unable to speak his name.

  “Will, Brandon and Vivienne left early, I believe, well before I got up. He certainly is a dish, isn’t he? Good thing I had George to keep my mind off him. You got to talk to him quite a bit, didn’t you? Lucky you! Next to him in the car yesterday after cricket, and is it true you danced with him? Spill the beans, what’s he like?”

  “I had one dance,” Danny said off-handedly. “And that was quite enough. Like you said, he’s not that interesting.” Wanting to avoid Sara asking any more probing questions, she headed for the door. “Let’s get going then, shall we?”

  “Okay, but he is steaming hot, you have to admit that,” Sara insisted picking her way carefully, on her six-inch heels, into the daylight. “Shame he’s a bit dull. Oh well. Eye-candy, nevertheless. You go up and pack. My stuff’s in the car already. I’ll meet you in the kitchen in, say fifteen minutes or so – is that long enough? I’ll make some coffee to take with us.”

  The sky had clouded over, blocking the warmth from the sun, but the greyness matched Danny’s mood. An icy shiver from a cool breeze wafting over her enhanced her melancholia as she made her way inside and back upstairs to pack.

  Just over thirty minutes later, having thanked their hosts for the weekend and the party, and congratulated them again on their engagement, Danny and Sara were on the road to town.

  Brandon had been gone by seven o’clock, Henry had mentioned in passing. Danny’s stomach was achingly tight, and she
felt sick. Despite pressuring her for an early morning tryst in the stables and threatening to never see her again if she didn’t show, he knew he wouldn’t be there, knew he would already have left Farthingale Cottage.

  She felt sicker still when she remembered he hadn’t even asked for her phone number, address, social media contacts or anything. It was obvious he never intended to take the game further than the weekend. How could she have been so gullible? Such a fool? At that moment, she hated Brandon Carlisle with as much passion as she had wanted and desired him a few short hours ago.

  Danny and Sara had barely seen each other since they’d arrived on Friday evening but, fortunately for Danny, Sara was much more interested in talking about her own weekend than finding out about Danny’s.

  “I feel really bad,” she began even as they headed down the drive. “I feel like I’ve completely neglected you. I hope you weren’t too bored, but,” she said and giggled, “George insisted on monopolising me, and to be honest, I didn’t mind at all. Oh Danny, he is so lovely, don’t you think?” And on she went without bothering to wait for an answer.

  Happy to not have to contribute anything, Danny managed to keep up with Sara’s stream of consciousness about George sufficiently to make the right noises when appropriate, or slip in a question if Sara seemed to be in danger of switching the conversation to more dangerous ground, which happened when Sara remembered the earrings.

  “Ooh, Dan! The earrings! Did you find out who your secret admirer is?”

  “There is no secret admirer,” Danny assured Sara quite truthfully, adding slightly less truthfully, “The person who left them outside my door made a mistake. So,” – changing the subject as quickly as possible – “tell me more about George’s exhibition and the one he has planned for you.”

  In reality, the earrings were burning a hole in Danny’s bag. She wished she’d thrown them at Mr. Brandon Carlisle last night, but too late for that now. She wasn’t going to keep them, of that she was sure. She was just less certain for the moment exactly how she would get rid of them.