by Kalia Lewis
Smiling slowly at her, he was pleased with himself. Confusion was running across her face like a steam train. Over the years he had broken in many a wild skittish horse and she was showing the same traits of resistance verses trust. Now that the shock of the last few weeks was wearing off and he finally had Annabelle in his territory, the rules were about to change. “Goodnight Ma Belle.”
The door closed quietly behind him and she stood there in a trance. What has she done? In less than five minutes she’d been through a whirlwind of emotions! Even when she opened herself to him, he’d walked away. Damn him! She was no puppet to be played with. Resisting him was going to be an arduous task, but resist him she must. Either that or be vulnerable and that was not an option.
Chapter 10
“Urgh!” To be jumped on by your daughter after endless hours of tossing and turning, whilst trying to fathom out why Tristan pulled away was the last thing she needed.
“Mum, guess what?”
She yawned. “What?”
“Dad took me to the stables and I picked out my very own horse called Firecracker. It’s a dappled mare.”
“Uh huh, that’s nice.” Groggily, she climbed out of bed and did a slow stretch facing the window. Her muscles ached from yesterday’s travelling. A slight breeze from behind her caused her to look over her shoulder. Tristan was standing in the doorway with a case in each hand.
Gobsmacked, he drank her in slowly as she turned to fully face him. The sight before him was like a scene from an erotic dream and he carelessly dropped the cases at his feet with a loud thud. The light from the window behind her allowed all of her curves to be silhouetted through the flimsy material of the nightgown. Curvaceous hips, a tiny waist and heavy breasts with erect nipples poking through the silk. This was absolute torture. All of the blood in his body raced to his growing arousal and his mouth went dry. Gruffly, he spoke, “Erm, I erm, brought you your stuff.”
Cocking her head in confusion at the pink spreading across his cheeks, she couldn’t recall ever seeing him blush before. Then it dawned on her, he could see right through what she was wearing. “Eek!” Throwing her arms around her middle she darted a look around the room for somewhere to hide. There was nowhere to run to.
“Wow, mum, you have padded coat-hangers in your wardrobes.”
Shocked out of the intense moment by April’s voice, they both turned to where she was rummaging in the deep closets and when she turned back, he’d gone. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks.
After shooing April out and slinging her cases in the closet, she dived into the shower, staying under the spray until she felt relatively normal. But all that effort of bringing herself back into a calm state went down the tube the minute she stepped into the kitchen. Tristan had his back to her over the stove, cooking what smelt like pancakes, but it was the sight of his behind in a pair of Levi’s that virtually made her drool.
The last time she’d seen him dressed in jeans had been ten years ago. A stream of memories popped into her mind and all the feelings of longing that were tied into those pictures of the past smacked her in the gut. She couldn’t breathe.
At that exact moment he chose to turn round. Seeing her bent over with her hands on her knees wheezing wasn’t what he’d expected. “Are you okay?” he asked with concern.
“Uh huh,” she flicked her hand at him in response. Straightening up, she shuffled her way to the table and sank into a chair.
Shrugging off her mysterious bout of breathlessness, he smiled. “I hope you like pancakes. I’ve made enough to feed the whole ranch.”
Him standing there with a spatula in his hands, looking like a god and showing his dimples, was her final undoing. Ten years ago she’d closed a door on a part of herself. Shutting away the young girl who dreamed, hoped and lived for her prince charming. Somehow, the sight of him this morning had opened that door a crack. Bewildered, she absently nodded and he placed a plate of hot pancakes in front of her.
Not moving from her side he spoke, “April ate thirty minutes ago. She’s in the stables waiting for us. I thought we could do a horse riding tour of the estate this morning.”
She nodded and popped a piece of pancake into her mouth.
Highly aware of his body heat next to her, she took a quick glance out of the corner of her eye and she could see her face was level with his crotch.
“Have you lost your tongue?” he asked in an amused tone.
She choked on the pancake. A vision of what she’d like to do with her tongue and his crotch flashed across her mind and she choked some more. Finally, she gravelled out a husky voice. “Sure, would love to.”
****
The estate was vast and they’d only covered a small portion of it. Sweating in the rising heat, she wiped her brow with the back of her hand. For the last few hours they’d ridden with April in the middle of them on her new horse and now they were returning back to the stables. Conversation had been minimal between them, but it had flowed effortlessly between Tristan and April as he pointed out all the wildlife and history.
She sighed…again. On one level she was glad to be ignored, on another level it made her restless. There was a conflict warring between wanting him and rejecting him. If she gave in she knew it would be good between them, but it was the thought of her having to leave or him rejecting her at the end of the trip that made her keep him at arm's length. The real fear was in falling for him again. There was also another burning question that had her insides churning. If April didn’t exist would he have still married Cara? Biting down hard on her lip, she felt out of her depth. Perhaps she could ask him? But would he lie just to have a fling?
Watching the array of emotions flit across her face made him smile.
If she sighed one more time he was going to smack the rear end of her horse and send her off galloping! Secretly, he was pleased with himself. The plan was beginning to work and he could feel her inner battle of whether to trust him or not and he also knew she felt miffed by his lack of attention. Now it was time to turn the pressure up.
They arrived at the stables and as he dismounted he spoke, “I’ve arranged a welcome dinner this evening so that you can meet all the ranch hands. I didn’t know if you’d brought a formal dress, so I had someone fly in this morning with a few to select from. They’re in your room. Dinner is at eight.
Taken by surprise, she replied, “Oh, I erm, thank you.”
With a final nod, he handed his horses reins to the head groomsman and strode out of the barn.
Peeved that he hadn’t stayed to help her unsaddle, she shakily climbed down. It had been a while since she’d ridden a horse. Walking up to the house she felt completely thrown off kilter. One minute he was ignoring her and the next he was arranging a dinner and having dresses flown in especially! It seems that this older version of Tristan blew hot and cold.
After lunch she spent the afternoon in her room trying on the selection of outfits. Eventually, she settled for a red dress. It ended mid-calf and fitted tightly to her skin, cinching at the waist before finishing with a sweetheart neckline that showed off a peek of cleavage. She’d combined it with red stilettos and pulled back her hair into a Spanish style sleeked bun at her nape. The only make-up used was a smattering of mascara and matching red lipstick. The effect was understated, yet dramatic.
At eight she made her way down the wide staircase. A throng of two dozen people milled about in the open plan foyer and lounge of the ranch. She spotted Tristan or rather she felt his eyes boring into her from the other side of the room. Meeting those eyes was like walking into an inferno. It was one searing hot look! Warily, she lowered her eyes in response. It felt like déjà vu from ten years ago. Only this time she wasn’t a naïve teenager out to seduce him. No, there was no reeling him in like a fish with a Grecian style gown. This time he was reeling her in and she was fighting him all the way in order to keep her sanity.
Tristan stood rooted to the spot. Seeing her walk down those stairs in the striking red numbe
r nearly brought him to his knees. How was he going to remain aloof all night with her looking like that! He’d noted her reaction of fear to the feral look he’d given her. It was time to shutter it. If she got one whiff of how powerful his attraction to her was, she would run like a frightened doe.
Most of the men stood around him were also gawking and nudging each other. Taking a step in front of them, he felt like storming over there and taking her mouth in his, laying claim to her, so no-one in the room was mistaken about who she belonged to. Mentally, he kicked himself - that would be the quickest way to send her running. Pasting a slight smile on his face as she approached, he greeted her, “Good evening Annabelle. You look nice.”
Nice! I’ll give him nice! “And you look so sweet in your dinner suit Tristan.” She smiled as he grimaced. In truth, he didn’t look sweet at all. More like a tall, dark, powerful force of a man. Something primal, like a man on a hunt, out to devour. Without waiting for him to introduce her, she turned to the muscular man on Tristan’s right, who was good-looking in a Hugh Grant kind of way. She held out her hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Annabelle.”
Taking her outstretched hand, he brought it to his lips and left a butterfly kiss across her knuckles, making her blush.
“I’m Niall, main head ranchman at your service Miss Annabelle.”
Oh my!
Before she could blink several other men were taking her hand, kissing her knuckles and making introductions, all strong and muscular from out-door work.
Tristan was seething. This was not how it was supposed to pan out. The plan was to draw her in, not have men fawning all over her to distract her. Taking her elbow, he roughly guided her out of the accumulating male admirers and over to a group of chatting women. Promptly, he deposited her in the centre of the throng, mumbled her name and then walked away.
The women went silent before looking at each other and bursting into muffled laughter.
“So, you seem to have our Tristan all in a bother,” said one tiny elf-like woman.
“Erm, well, not exactly, I –”
“My Frank said he hasn’t been the same since he got back. Acts all primate as soon as he’s around you, and now I’ve just seen the proof with my very own eyes,” said a willowy blonde.
“Primate? I don’t know about –”
“Well, I heard from my Ethan,” said a curvaceous Spanish looking woman, as she pointed to a tall fair-haired ranch-hand on the other side of the room. “That Tristan called off his engagement to that cold-hearted ice-queen Cara for you. Is that true?”
They all looked at her expectantly.
What could she say? “Erm, it wasn’t quite like that.” At that moment she caught sight of April. “Oh, please excuse me. I can see my daughter coming down the stairs.”
Never was she as glad to see April as she was in that moment. Before she could reach her though, April was met by Tristan and Elsa came out of the formal dining room to call them all in to dinner.
Tristan waited for her and indicated to the seat next to his and she found herself seated between Tristan at the head of the table and Niall to her left. April sat opposite, next to a very pretty blonde called Lucile.
Tristan completely ignored her and spoke directly to April and Lucile.
Annabelle inwardly sighed. Not one to give up, she turned to Niall and asked, “So, how long have you worked here?”
Smiling openly, he replied, “I was born on this ranch, so I guess I’ve worked here from the moment I could walk.”
“Wow, so your family live here too?”
“All the people you see around this table are classed as family to me and we all live in homes dotted about the land. Most of us were born here from families who travelled over from England with the original Hemsley-Ford household.”
“Oh,” she replied.
He laughed at the amazed look on her face. “Tristan over there,” he nodded in his direction, “turned the ranch into a share-holding business about five years ago, so we all now own a share between us. I suppose that makes us more of a family.”
This was news to her. “Is that how he can work in the city with his oil business at the same time as running the ranch?”
“Yep, that was the general idea for shared-ownership. See, when you own something, you take better care of it. Tristan was real clever about that. He knew we’d make it work even if he weren’t here to oversee it.”
Stumped at Tristan’s generosity and business strategy, she turned to look at him and found him staring straight back at her. The glare in his eyes was fierce, making her gulp, then he shuttered it and his eyes became vacant. Looking away, she caught Lucile shyly glancing at Niall wistfully. There was a girl with a crush. She smiled to herself and turned back to Niall. Withstanding Tristan was a strenuous task, but matchmaking, now that she could do.
“So Niall, are you married?”
“No, I, erm, haven’t found the right girl yet.”
She caught him throw a quick glimpse at Lucile. How lovely. Maybe they just needed a little shove.
“April and I are going to the lake tomorrow, how about you join us and maybe Lu –”
“Are you hitting on my head ranchman?”
Tristan’s voice was icy cold and it had a tremor of anger laced through it. Glancing at Lucile she could see the tears in her eyes. Mortified, she turned to Tristan and threw him a disgusted look. “Actually, I was –”
“Annabelle’s already taken.” He nodded at Niall. “Goes by the name of Daniel,” he hissed.
The table went quiet.
Horrified at him speaking about her like that in front of strangers, her response was fuelled with indignation, “Yes, I do like a man with manners and Daniel is very well-mannered, which suits me just fine.”
Rising to the bait he bit back, “Yes, he’s very mild and well-mannered, with about as much sex-appeal as a dead fish,” he said dripping with sarcasm.
Colour rose into her cheeks, but before she come back with another retort, April spoke, “But mum, Daniel's not –”
Panic cursed through her and she cut her off, “April, not now honey.” She smiled weakly at her.
“But mum, you’re not –”
“I said not now.” Lies always come back to bite you on the arse at the least unexpected moment and she could see Tristan bouncing a questioning look between her and April, but before he could utter a word, a commotion could be heard from the other side of the dining room door. All eyes and heads turned in that direction.
It swung open and a formidable man stood there, Tristan’s father, Preston Hemsley-Ford, followed by another man, Marshall Boone and his daughter, Cara Boone. Finally, coming in at the rear was the harassed looking housekeeper, Elsa.
“So sorry Tristan, but they wouldn’t wait in the foyer,” said a distressed looking Elsa.
“Be quiet woman,” barked Preston. “This is the house of my ancestral family. No-one has the audacity to keep me waiting!” he said more to the room than to Elsa.
Now standing, Tristan soothed, “It’s okay Elsa, I’ll take it from here.” He turned to his father. “What are you doing here? I’ve not invited you and I asked you on the phone to await my instructions as to a meeting.”
“I’ve waited all day,” Preston bellowed. “And I think that is long enough. I will not be kept waiting any longer. I require an explanation as to your unacceptable behaviour to Cara and to also meet my granddaughter.”
Preston was standing directly behind Annabelle’s chair and she could feel his anger penetrating into her back. Marshall had his hands on his hips and Cara, who looked like a super-model from the pages of Vogue, was smiling sickly sweet at Tristan. The hum of anticipation in the room was turning her stomach. No-one moved a muscle.
“Is that her there?” Preston was pointing at April, who was ashen in colour looking from Preston back to Tristan.
Tristan was now furious. No-one gets access to April without his approval and his father had not yet earned that right. The onl
y thing that gave him away as to his inner fury was the tic in his jaw. Calmly, he spoke, “Elsa, can you take April to her room.”
Annabelle nodded and smiled encouragingly at April as they left the room.
Tristan refused to take his eyes off his father, silently challenging him to defy his request of having April removed from the scene. “Father, we’ll take this discussion into my office. Annabelle, can you come with us.” Turning to the table, he offered an apology. “Please excuse us and carry on with dinner, we’ll be back shortly.”
Tristan towered his presence over his father, guiding him from the room, giving him no option but to move. Annabelle followed at the back behind Cara.
This was the first time she’d entered into Tristan’s office and it was huge, with banks of patio doors along one wall, leading out onto a garden. At any other time she may have wandered around and taken a book from the tall bookcases and perhaps dropped into a large winged padded chair near the marble fireplace, spending hours reading next to an open fire. The desk was down at the far end and Tristan was pulling additional chairs towards it. Nervously, she sat on the edge of one at the end of the line of four. Cara perched herself at the other end.
Several times his father tried to speak, but Tristan had put his hand up, stopping him until everyone was seated. There was no way Preston was going to lead this meeting. This was his daughter and his life. His father had lost all power over him many years ago.
“Now, what is so important that you storm into my house, disrupt my guests and make demands?” Tristan’s voice was alarmingly calm.
Preston’s fingers tapped on the chair. “Everything and I mean everything that we’ve worked on for these last ten years is being annihilated by this sudden decision of yours.”
“Nothing is being annihilated. Business is strong and stable. The way I see it is that you’re upset at not getting your own way with this idiotic marriage deal.”
Preston slammed his hand down on the arm of the chair, making Annabelle wince. “You can’t just make a deal and then back out of it when it suits you! This is a billion dollar deal, not just some flimsy whim!”
