Rory felt a twinge of something that resembled jealousy, mingled with relief that he hadn’t completely cocked up. ‘Give me two minutes, then we’re getting out of here.’
***
A luxury hotel was a definite improvement on an airport departure lounge. Once the manager had realised that the caller did actually want the junior suite immediately, that it wasn’t a joke, and that he’d be able to add ‘daughter of a gold-medal winner’ and ‘up-and-coming eventer’ into his autobiography as padding (he was convinced that he had a potential gold mine on his hands, maybe a film adaptation, or at least a mini-series once he neared retirement age and could spill the beans on all the celebrity guests and their strange and compelling habits), he sprung into action. By the time Lottie and Rory had made their way out of the airport (which was easier said than done), there was a uniformed chauffeur, complete with printed card, waiting to escort them to a limo and on to the hotel.
A bottle of champagne, complementary chocolates and a slightly pompous and very ingratiating member of staff were awaiting them, prepared to ignore the casual attire, which was not normally seen on their guests.
Lottie launched herself on to the bed. ‘Thank God he’s gone, I thought he was going to offer to undress me.’
‘Shag you more like. Why do people like that assume we don’t understand TVs or wifi.’ Rory grabbed the ice bucket and headed for the bathroom. ‘Bring the glasses, woman, I’m going to fill this enormous Jacuzzi and then give you the kind of sorting you won’t forget in a hurry.’ He was somehow managing to kick off clothes as he went.
Lottie giggled. ‘I’ve got an excellent memory, so I remember all of them.’
Two minutes later, glass in hand, and having her feet massaged, Lottie sank deeper into the water so that the bubbles came up to her chin. ‘Will Rio be okay while you’re here? I mean, who’s riding him?’
Rory, who hadn’t forgotten that ‘horse’ was supposed to be a banned word, guessed the rules could be bent if Lottie was the one who started the conversation. And anyway, Mick, Pip and Amanda weren’t there to hear.
‘I sent him to Dom’s for a couple of days.’
‘You what?’ She briefly popped up out of the bubbles so that he could admire her full breasts and tightening nipples. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’ He traced a finger lazily along her instep and wondered if doing it with his mouth would have been an arrestable offence on a Spanish beach; there were definite advantages to being where they were. It actually surprised even him that he had sent the horse up to Tipping House, but Amanda and Pip had suggested it (when the break in the horse’s training schedule at a critical point in the season had been his first objection to their mad plan), and then the man himself had rung to arrange transportation. He was amazed that either of the women had managed to persuade Dom but presumed that the name of his niece, who he was clearly baffled by but had a huge soft spot for, had swung it. ‘I hope he doesn’t give the horse ideas of grandeur so that he tries to piaffe his way over the cross-country course and make me look a twat.’
Lottie laughed and blew him a kiss. ‘You can do that yourself.’
‘Did you really go to Australia because I don’t listen to you?’
‘Nobody listens.’ She stared into her glass, watching the bubbles lose their grip on the side of the glass and spring up to the surface. And shatter. ‘I don’t want to be like Mum was with Dad, trying to get your attention. Either you notice me, or you’re not that bothered.’
‘I am bothered, you silly cow. And everyone knows Billy was mad about your mum.’
‘Except her.’
‘Maybe she just liked him to show it, prove it. She must have known.’
‘I think she did like to be the centre of things a bit, but how would she know if he didn’t say so? And I wanted to do something just for me. And not just be Billy’s daughter.’
‘He’s a big shadow to grow up under, Lots, but I’m not. I missed you when you were away.’ It had been a revelation to Rory just how much he had missed Lottie when she was away, at first it had just been annoying that things cropped up that he wanted to share and she wasn’t there. But then it had got worse; he’d wanted her back, wanted to know what she was doing.
‘I’ve never been anywhere but Tippermere, you know. I just wanted my own life, to do what I wanted, rather than what you all thought I should do, just for a bit.’ She missed out the ‘and you didn’t care anyway’ bit, because she was beginning to realise she’d been wrong on that count, and maybe he was right. With Rory she wasn’t in a shadow; she could do, and be, what she wanted. ‘What if,’ she shifted her gaze and studied his dark, familiar face, ‘I’m missing out on something better?’ There was always that, even if so far she hadn’t found it. In fact, her world trip had proved a bit of a flop, in more ways than one.
‘Thanks.’
‘I don’t mean you. I mean, you know, all we do is horses.’
‘So, is that the dream? Barcelona, beaches, was Todd what you were looking for?’
Lottie didn’t need to even think about the truth. It had always been there like a shining beacon in front of her. The dream since hormones had kicked in had been Rory. Rory who she’d idolised, Rory who had let her help him out with the horses, Rory who was a best buddy, Rory who had casually slipped into the role of protector and occasional date. Rory who would have run a mile if he’d realised just how stupidly infatuated she was. So she’d done the running instead.
She did her best not to look embarrassed. ‘No, I wasn’t looking for Todd. We just bumped into each other and he was a bit of a laugh, that’s all.’ Well it had been more or less all. ‘But do you know why they arrested him?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘He had three wives already. Three! Can you believe it?’
‘I’d say one was enough for anyone.’ Rory shifted his emphasis from her feet, further up her calf. He was not really interested in Todd, but determined to at least look like he was paying attention.
‘Do you think he was after my money?’
‘Have you got any?’ Rory grinned, forgetting the serious soul-searching stuff he’d been instructed on. ‘’Cos I might have jumped in quicker if I’d known.’
‘Cheeky bastard. You know I haven’t.’
‘Shame. And I was going to take you all that way, and now I’ve splashed out on this place…’
‘Nasty. You know I’m broke, but maybe he thought ’cos of dad and everything. See, I go all the way to bloody Australia and I still can’t escape my flaming dad.’ She sank back and stared up at the ceiling, which she hadn’t realised until now was mirrored. ‘Why would you have a mirrored ceiling in a bathroom?’
‘I’m going to show you in a bit. So you weren’t in love with him?’ Rory tried to look like the response didn’t matter as much as it did. After all, he’d asked, and he needn’t have.
‘Love? With Todd?’ She giggled, and for the first time didn’t feel like gritting her teeth when she said his name. ‘You’re kidding me.’
‘Good. Would I have got arrested if I kissed your boobs on the beach?’
‘Yes.’
‘Thank God for that air traffic control strike then.’ He lunged forward, sending a wash of water over the side of the bath and kissed the parts in question.
Lottie was suddenly glad they’d not made it onto a plane too. He might be super-fit, and his torso might have a reasonable tan, but she just couldn’t picture him spending all day spread out on the sand.
And much as she liked him naked, she loved to see him in his figure-hugging clothes; they just suited him. And he looked ten times sexier than any of the men that had surrounded her on the beach, even Todd, and particularly those dressed only in budgie smugglers. Men’s bits were wonderful when they were attached to the man you fancied; not quite so much when they were part of a beer-bellied, nut-brown wrinkly.
‘When I was in Barca, I kept thinking about all the things I could be doing, but I forced myself not to move and to chill.’ She sa
nk a bit deeper into the water and realised that for the first time in ages she was actually following Todd’s instruction. Chilling. Which brought his four S’s to mind, but she was only interested in the fourth one. Sex. Right now. With Rory.
‘You’re funny. So, it wasn’t your idea of heaven?’
‘Nope. But I did try. Very hard.’
He laughed, a rich carefree sound. ‘You’re not supposed to make yourself enjoy it.’
‘I make myself enjoy you.’ She grinned.
‘Cheeky madam.’ He pulled abruptly on the leg he was holding and Lottie disappeared under the bubbles, still holding her champagne glass aloft. ‘You’re going to pay for that, young lady.’ And when she’d surfaced, still laughing, he deposited the glass on the side of the bath, and deposited her very firmly astride his lap. ‘And I’m going to show you why there are mirrors on the ceiling.’
Chapter 24
Tiggy clutched the flowered quilt under her chin and wondered how on earth she’d ended up in bed with Billy Brinkley.
The why wasn’t a problem. Good Lord she’d been lusting after him for enough years, but the fact that it had actually happened was a bit of a shocker. And the fact that she didn’t quite know what to do next, in the broad light of day, was another problem.
Whilst Tiggy was trying to work out how to get out of bed without showing any of her wobbly bits, Billy was pondering the fact that he couldn’t remember feeling quite so randy since he’d won his gold medal. And he was trying to work out whether to tease Tiggy out of the duvet as though she was a teetering newborn foal, or whether the direct alpha male route would get her over the hurdle, and out of the sheets, quicker.
With years of experience successfully coaxing young horses and riders to face their worst fears, Billy was fairly confident he’d find a way that worked. It just had to be before the horses started to kick their feed buckets and wonder where the hell breakfast had got to.
Ten minutes later, with a softly whimpering, fully uncovered Tiggy begging him to finish what he’d started, Billy realised he’d not lost his touch.
‘You need to talk to Dominic.’
Maybe he had lost his touch. That really wasn’t something he should be hearing just as he worked up to a climax.
‘Oo don’t stop.’
Which sounded better. ‘I hadn’t been planning to.’
‘Pleeeeeease.’
Billy wasn’t sure if the ‘please’ was connected to the Dom issues, or the not stopping one, until the silky softness of her inner thighs closed in tighter around his waist. But it wasn’t her skin, gorgeous as it was, it was the look of need in her large hazel eyes as she gazed directly at him that made William Brinkley feel, for the first time in nearly twenty years, that making a woman truly happy was what he wanted to do.
‘Oh Billy, Billy, Billyyyyyyy.’
It took considerable willpower to stop his trembling arms from giving way beneath him, and for a fleeting moment Billy felt like maybe his passion days were numbered, and then she smiled. He collapsed on to the bed beside her, and ran his fingers through his hair.
‘I know. I will do.’
Tiggy didn’t say a word, she just leaned over, kissed him and wrapped an arm around the broad chest. She’d known he’d go eventually. It was just when that was the issue, and Tiggy believed that the sooner you faced your demons the sooner they dissipated into the mist of memories. ‘That was nice.’
‘Aye. But I could kill a cup of tea, though the horses might not appreciate it.’
‘Stay there, I’ll get one and how about a fry-up?’
‘It’s not a Sunday is it?’
‘No, but it would be nice, wouldn’t it?’
Tiggy was suddenly worried that she’d overstepped the boundaries, but Billy leant over and gave her the type of resounding smacker on the lips that made the world wobble. ‘It would. What on earth would I do without you, Victoria Stafford?’
***
‘Pistols at dawn is it?’ Dominic raised an eyebrow and completed the almost-perfect half-pass across the school, spoiled only by a slight break in stride as Billy plonked himself on the bench that ran along the side and put his feet up on the rail with a heavy clunk.
‘I always did say you were crap at keeping track of time.’ He flicked dirt out from his short fingernails with an old nail that he invariably had in his pocket and watched the man with whom he’d once done just about everything two heterosexual men could do together. They were chalk and cheese, as Tiggy would say, but Alexa had bound them together. Made it work. Without her, they hadn’t stood a chance, they’d fallen on different banks of the stream and the deep rift between them had been unbreachable. Not that either of them had tried to build bridges. ‘So, do you still deny it?’
‘Deny what?’ He circled the horse around its haunches, each bounce so slow the world seemed to be holding its breath.
‘I don’t mind spelling it out, if that’s what you want. It’s no skin off my nose. I’m not the one who’s got anything to hide. Do you still say that you and Elizabeth haven’t been meddling and advising Amanda James on what she should do?’
‘I do.’
‘You lying bastard.’
Dom pulled the horse up, with perfect precision, inches from Billy’s feet, and his eyes were as hard as the nail Billy held in his hand. ‘You’ll apologise for that.’
‘Like hell I will.’
‘What Amanda does with that Estate is her business, and what would I have to gain anyway? Mother likes to meddle, but I don’t.’
‘You’d get rid of me, once and for all, wouldn’t you?’ Billy’s voice was soft, but it carried across the still air of the school like a ripple across water. ‘The perfect solution.’
‘You fool.’ Dom shook his head slowly, the cool anger melting as he looked at the man who’d once been like a brother. ‘I don’t want to get rid of you. And mother would die if Charlotte ever left. I couldn’t do that to her, not even if I wanted to. Not again.’
‘But she was here. Lottie saw her, other people have seen her.’ Through narrowed eyes, Billy tried to work out if he was hearing the truth or not. Neither man nor horse moved a muscle. ‘She told Lottie you were helping. And why else would she be here, eh? What the hell do you have in common? And then that developer was over.’
‘I didn’t advise her to do that.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘That’s because you don’t want to. Just like I didn’t want to believe that I was partly to blame for what happened.’
‘Blame, you?’ Billy gave a short, unbelieving laugh.
Dom slid from the horse, slowly pulled the stirrups up and ran the leathers through them. ‘It was my horse.’
‘It was my dare.’
‘This isn’t a competition, Billy.’ He loosened the girth, then rested his forearms on the saddle and looked straight at Billy, for the first time in years. ‘I do blame you, I admit that, but I know part of it was down to me. And,’ he paused, let the sigh reverberate through his long frame, ‘part of it was just her. I do know that. I could have tried to stop her, but Alexa was pretty hard to stop when she put her mind to something. I gave her the means, you gave her the reason.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She was jealous, jealous of your flings and your partying, she was used to being the centre of attention and I think she suddenly didn’t feel like she was any more. I do blame you for that. I will always blame you for that bit, Billy.’ He took his riding hat off and studied the other man. ‘I hated you for a long time, because it was easier than taking the responsibility myself. And I did try and tell you, but you wouldn’t listen. You were too busy playing the martyr, too busy drowning your sorrows.’
‘You tried to take my daughter, the only thing I had left.’
‘How else were we supposed to bring you to your senses? You were losing it, permanently pissed, it’s a wonder all your owners didn’t pull out, man. That house was a hovel and you were a self-pitying idiot who
couldn’t even look after a bloody dog.’
‘Say it like it is, don’t pull the punches, will you?’
‘It was true. And it was no way to bring up Alexa’s daughter.’
‘My daughter.’
‘Your daughter. Alexandra loved you, Billy. I loved you for God’s sake, but you’d pressed the self-destruct button.’ He pulled the reins over the horse’s head. ‘I haven’t told Amanda James to do anything; if she sells up it isn’t because I told her to. It’s up to you whether you believe me or not.’
‘I believe him, Dad.’ Billy half-turned, to see Lottie silhouetted in the entrance of the school, looking an eerie replica of her mother.
‘So do I.’ Rory slipped his hand into hers. ‘He’s not lying, Bill.’
***
Lottie had been more than a little alarmed to get back to Folly Lake, still on a sexual high, to find it deserted, well, apart from Tiggy, who didn’t really count and was behaving in a very strange manner. She was mopping the kitchen floor, which was weird. One, because she didn’t do cleaning (as far as Lottie had ever been aware), and two, because it wasn’t her floor. It was Billy’s. And she was humming. Tuneless, but happy.
‘Where’s Dad?’
‘Oh, you’re back. Did you have a lovely time?’ She all but pinched Lottie’s cheek, which was a step too far.
Lottie retreated to the safety of Rory’s side. ‘Great thanks. Dad?’
‘He’s gone to see your Uncle Dom, dear. They needed to chat.’
‘Oh, God.’ Lottie all but shoved Rory back out of the door. ‘He didn’t take his shotgun did he?’
‘Don’t be silly. It’ll be fine. You aren’t staying for a drink, then?’
Lottie wasn’t so convinced it would be fine. And she definitely didn’t want a cup of tea. She was seriously worried that somebody had sneaked ketamine or some hallucinogenic drug into Tiggy’s mug when she wasn’t looking. She really must check – she wouldn’t put it past Tab if she was being egged on by one of the other grooms.
The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights Page 125
