by Ros Clarke
‘I see you’ve met Benjy.’
Fliss extricated herself from the spaniel’s clutches and smiled up at Luke. ‘He’s gorgeous.’
‘He’s a nuisance,’ Luke said dryly. From the way Benjy was ecstatically jumping up around his owner’s knees, Fliss decided she could safely dismiss this comment. ‘Come through here.’
Fliss followed Luke into a cosy, if somewhat shabby, sitting room. He strode over to an old-fashioned desk where he switched on a bright lamp and started to examine her broken Manolo.
‘Is there hope for it?’
He didn’t look up. ‘You’re blocking the light.’
‘Sorry.’ Not remotely sorry, Fliss left Luke to it while she wandered over to the mantelpiece which held a series of family photos in heavy silver frames. She picked up the oldest one – a wedding photo. ‘Are these your parents?’
Luke didn’t answer.
Fliss brought the photo over to the desk so that she could look at it in the light. ‘You look like your mother.’
‘Hmm.’ Luke pushed the broken heel back into place and held it firmly for the glue to go off.
‘It’s the cheekbones. And the eyes. She’s very beautiful.’
Luke exhaled a long breath. ‘Yes, she was.’
Fliss glanced at him. His gaze was fixed on her shoe, but his lips had tightened and his eyes were cold.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said again, though this time she meant it. ‘Was it recent?’ She’d spotted pictures of Luke as a teenager with both his parents on the mantelpiece.
‘A year ago,’ he told her, through gritted teeth. ‘She left a year ago.’
‘Left?’
Fliss wanted to know what had happened but Luke pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘These need to stand for an hour or so. I have to go and check on things at the yard.’ Apparently that discussion was closed.
‘Oh. Well…’ Fliss was about to suggest she make a cup of tea. And if that gave her a chance to rummage through Luke’s kitchen cupboards, she wouldn’t object.
‘You’re coming with me,’ he interrupted. ‘I’m not in the habit of leaving strangers alone in my house, no matter how cute they are.’
‘Cute?’ Fliss raised an eyebrow.
He gave an exasperated sigh and gestured towards a door in the hall. ‘There are piles of wellies in the cloakroom. You should be able to find a pair that vaguely fit.’
Luke brought her a soft old sweater to put on over her dress and a thick pair of striped socks to go inside the wellies.
‘How do I look?’ Fliss asked, putting out her arms and doing a twirl.
‘Ridiculously adorable.’
She laughed. ‘Cute and adorable. You want to watch out, Luke Caldecott. A girl might start to think you fancy her with that sort of talk.’
Luke gave her a warning look. ‘I told you…’
‘No more kissing. Don’t worry, I remember.’
‘Good.’ He called Benjy up with a whistle and opened the door for Fliss.
‘I just don’t remember you giving me a reason,’ she murmured as she brushed past him.
Chapter Three
The blue dress had never been long, but somehow, the old jumper Luke had given her made it shrink to an almost indecent height on Fliss’s thighs. And although the wellington boots she wore came up almost to her knees, from Luke’s point of view, they only served to draw attention to the rest of her deliciously curvy legs.
She was adorable.
Ridiculous, but adorable and Luke walking a few steps behind her, couldn’t take his eyes off her. Couldn’t stop remembering how it had felt to have her lips working their magic against his. Couldn’t stop wanting to touch her again. And more.
One hour to show her round the yard while the glue set on her shoes and then he’d call her a cab and be done with her. If he still had the tiniest shred of self-control he would. Otherwise, he might just drag her up to bed and set about removing the ridiculously sexy combination of his clothes and hers that she wore.
‘This way,’ he told Fliss curtly, careful not to brush against her as he went past into the stableyard. ‘Hold onto Benjy’s leash and don’t do anything stupid.’
She gave a mock salute. ‘Yes, sir!’
He smiled but said, ‘I’m serious. These horses are worth a lot of money and incredibly highly-strung. This isn’t the Pony Club.’
Fliss shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know, I was never in the Pony Club.’
‘You’ve never ridden?’
She winked at him. ‘Well, I’ve never ridden a horse.’
Luke gave a rueful grin. He’d walked into that one. ‘Touché.’
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d reacted to a woman in this way. Maybe never. Luke prided himself on his self-control around beautiful women. He didn’t do wild, uncontrollable lust. He didn’t have unsuitable affairs with impulsive girls. He had brief, casual flings with women who knew the score from the start and who were as unlikely to get emotionally involved as he was.
There was nothing controlled about his response to Felicity Merrick. The tilt of her head, the twitching smile on her lips, the sparkle in her eyes all made him want to fling caution to the wind, throw her over his shoulder again and take her up to his bed.
One night, he decided grimly. He could allow himself that. Curiosity would be satisfied and then he would be able to let Fliss Merrick go without a second glance.
One night was all he was prepared to give her, though. Anything more was just too dangerous. Luke had seen exactly how much damage one high-maintenance woman could do to a man and his career, and there was no way he was going to fall into that trap. Luke had seen his father utterly broken by a lifetime of trying to please his mother. And for what? For her to run off with a younger, richer model after almost thirty years of making their lives a misery.
When he’d told Fliss that his mother was beautiful, he’d meant just that. She had been incredibly beautiful once, but all her natural good looks had disappeared under the regime of cutting, tucking, and plumping. The last time Luke had seen her, he’d barely recognised her.
At least his dad was free of her now. He had a moderate pension and a nice little semi on the other side of Newmarket where he was enjoying retirement with a newfound enthusiasm for life.
It had been just the spur Luke needed. He’d been working all hours in the city for almost ten years and was more than ready to come home. A few judicious property investments had come good, and Luke was able to put up the cash injection needed to turn Orchid Park Stables around.
With a young, energetic trainer at the helm, several prestigious owners had been persuaded to send their horses to Orchid Park and Luke had begun the task of building a reputation based on his own abilities. Today’s winner, Chrysanthemum, was by far the classiest horse in his string. Luke was in the habit of talking down the horse’s potential, in case it backfired, but he knew they had as a good a chance at this year’s Derby as he could ever hope for.
It would make his name and cement the reputation of his yard. Success bred success in racing – owners would be queuing up to fill the empty stalls of which there were still far too many at the moment.
Ogling a pretty girl who cared more for her designer shoes than the safe running of a race was not going to fill them.
‘Here.’ Luke wrenched his gaze away from Fliss and nodded towards the horse in the first stall. ‘Land Girl. Two year old filly. She’ll have her first outing in a few weeks time. Bags of speed but temperamental.’
Fliss walked up to the dark horse. ‘That’s the prerogative of beautiful women, isn’t it darling?’
Luke shot her a glance but Fliss’s attention was fixed on the filly. He let out his breath. ‘Hold your hand out flat and give her these.’
‘Polos?’
‘Try it.’
Land Girl eyed Fliss beadily but the scent of the mints was too tempting. One swoop of her tongue lifted the sweets, and with a quick crunch they were gone. She nudged Fliss’s
hand, asking for more.
‘That’s quite enough,’ Luke told her, leaning round to pat her neck. ‘Greedy girl.’
Fliss was enchanted. Luke led her around the yard, introducing her to each horse as he checked that they were all fed and watered, and safely tucked in for the night. They were
all glossy and gorgeous, clearly very well cared for, and all of them greeted Luke with pleasure. She had enormous fun handing them all their polos and stroking their necks until they whinnied with delight.
‘How do you know all their names?’ she asked, after she’d met the fourth identical brown horse in a row.
Luke raised his eyebrows. ‘It’s my job.’
‘Yes, but they all look the same. How do you know which is which?’ She was surprised that there were no names over the stable doors, but Luke had told her it was a security measure in case anyone attempted to nobble a particular horse before a race.
He shook his head. ‘They don’t all look the same. Not if you look carefully.’
‘Oh.’ Fliss peered into the stall where she had just met Dangerous Liaison. ‘What am I looking for?’
Luke stood behind her and pointed. ‘It’s the same as people. Size, shape, colouring, distinguishing marks, mannerisms. Look at his ears.’
‘They’re a bit darker,’ she said doubtfully.
‘Yes. And the mane and tail, too.’
‘Right, I see. What else?’
Luke clicked his fingers and made a noise to call the horse towards them. He took hold of the bridle and turned him so that Fliss could see his shoulder.
‘There’s a mark!’ She traced her finger along the jagged path.
‘Yes, a scar. He had an encounter with some barbed wire when he was a young foal.’
‘Poor thing.’ Fliss gave him an extra pat. ‘You must love them all very much.’
Luke crossed his arms and gave Fliss a stern look. ‘They’re not pets.’
She frowned. ‘Yes, but still.’
‘This is my business, Felicity. My livelihood. I know these horses. I understand them. I train them to get the best out of them. Emotions don’t come into it.’ His voice was cold and business-like, but Fliss had seen the way he talked to the horses and she wasn’t convinced.
She turned back to look at Dangerous Liaison. ‘Not at all?’
‘No. I can’t afford to get emotional.’
‘How sad.’ She put another polo on her hand and watched as the horse took it gratefully, stroking his neck.
Not that she believed him. Luke had as many emotions as the next person, even if he kept them well hidden. Fliss had felt the way the electricity sizzled between them when he kissed her and she was very keen to see just how deep those particular emotions ran beneath his skin.
The next stall was empty but as they passed it in silence, Fliss heard the faint sound of miaowing.
‘I don’t suppose you care about your cat either,’ she teased Luke.
‘I don’t have a cat.’
Fliss turned to him. ‘Yes, you do. I heard it.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘In here.’ Fliss dragged open the stable door and went to investigate. In the dim light at the back of the stall, she found what she was looking for. Curled up in the straw, with huge frightened eyes gazing up at her, a tiny kitten was mewling in distress. Fliss instantly dropped to her knees and placed the little cat in her lap.
The straw rustled as Luke followed her into the stable. Fliss looked up at him, with wide, pleading eyes. ‘Can we keep it?’
Luke raised an eyebrow. ‘We?’
She ignored this irrelevance and bent her head over the kitten, stroking its fuzzy orange fur with one finger. ‘It needs a home.’
‘Maybe it has one. Is there a collar?’
‘No.’ The kitten had relaxed into her hold and closed its eyes in a satisfied sleep. Fliss raised her eyes. ‘Luke?’ He was leaning against the stable wall, watching her with an unfathomable expression.
After a long pause, he levered himself upright and nodded at Fliss. ‘Bring it into the house. I’ll call the vet and see if anyone’s reported it missing.’
‘And if not?’ She scrambled to her feet, cradling the kitten carefully in the crook of her arm so as not to wake it.
Luke drew in a long breath. ‘If not, we’ll see.’
She gave him her widest smile and reached up to press a kiss on his cheek. ‘You don’t fool me for a second, Luke Caldecott. Underneath that cool, controlled façade you’ve got a heart like a marshmallow.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He held the stable door open for Fliss and whistled for Benjy to follow them home.
It wasn’t his heart that resembled a marshmallow, it was his head. Every time he decided that he was done with Felicity Merrick, she found some way of clinging on just a little bit longer in his life. Now she had that infernal kitten in her lap, she was fending off Benjy’s over-enthusiastic advances, and looking completely at home in his kitchen.
Luke went to ring the vet.
‘Answer phone,’ he told Fliss curtly when he returned. ‘He’ll ring back in the morning since it’s not an emergency.’
Fliss shrugged. She’d obviously convinced herself that the kitten was staying. Luke stared at it resentfully. Presumably he was the one who was expected to pay for its vet’s bills and feed it and stop Benjy from attacking it.
Unless she planned to take the cat home with her. ‘I expect I’ve got a basket somewhere you can use,’ he offered.
‘What for?’
‘To carry the cat on the train.’
Fliss looked up at him in bewilderment. ‘Where to?’
He shrugged. ‘Wherever it is that you live. I thought you said you wanted to keep it. If Charlie can’t find its owner, you might as well take it with you tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow?’
Luke spelled it out for her so there could be no mistake. ‘When you go home. You can stay the night while we find out about the kitten, and then tomorrow you can take it home. You’ll need to make an appointment with your local vet to get its injections and have it sterilised.’
‘Oh. Right. Of course. Only my landlord doesn’t allow pets.’
‘Of course.’ He might have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
‘He might make an exception for little Marshmallow,’ she offered. ‘But if not…’
Marshmallow. Luke decided to ignore that dig. ‘If not, what will you do?’ Once again, he made it clear that the animal was her responsibility.
Fliss opened her eyes wide. They were cat’s eyes, Luke suddenly realised, with that golden-green gaze. ‘I don’t know. Find somewhere else to live?’
Great. She’d be out of a job and out of her home. As much as he told himself that he wasn’t responsible for either situation, Luke couldn’t help but worry.
They ordered takeaway for dinner which Fliss tried to pay for but Luke brushed her attempts away crossly. Once Marshmallow was settled into a makeshift bed in the warmest corner of the kitchen near the range cooker, Benjy followed them into the sitting room.
Fliss tucked her legs up underneath her and curled comfortably into the corner of the dark red velvet sofa with Benjy at her side.
‘He’s not allowed on the furniture,’ Luke said in a resigned tone.
Fliss merely winked at him and made no attempt to remove the dog. ‘Am I allowed on the furniture?’
Luke rolled his eyes but didn’t comment.
They drank their coffee in more or less companionable silence. Fliss scratched Benjy’s stomach so that he rolled ecstatically onto his back, but her eyes kept glancing over to Luke. His gaze was steadily fixed on the unlit fireplace but his jaw was tight and the muscles in his forearms were tense. She wondered how long it would take for him to crack.
Eventually, Luke reached over to remove Fliss’s empty cup and set it to one side. He shoved the dog off the sofa and sat down next to her.
‘I have four spare rooms,’ he muttered.
‘Okay.’
‘Nice rooms. Comfortable beds. You’d like them.’ Luke shot her a despairing glance.
Fliss bit back her giggle. ‘I expect so.’
‘Though I’d need to find some clean sheets for you.’
‘I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble.’ His tanned, strong forearms rested along lean, long thighs.
‘No trouble.’
She didn’t answer. He already knew exactly what she wanted. He just needed to convince himself that this was a good idea. She waited.
‘One night,’ Luke bit out eventually.
‘One night,’ she agreed. ‘If that’s all you want.’
‘That’s all that’s on offer,’ he said harshly.
‘Well then,’ She trailed a finger down his arm, ‘Let’s not waste any more of it.’
Luke groaned and dragged her onto his lap. He twisted his hands into her hair and held her face inches from his own.
‘I’ve been wanting to do this again all day,’ he admitted.
‘You have admirable self-control,’ she teased.
‘Witch.’ Luke pulled her mouth down and showed her just how much self-control he still possessed as he kissed her softly, briefly, tantalisingly until Fliss was whimpering with frustration and need.
When he tipped her off him and told her to wait, Fliss groaned in agony.
Luke shooed Benjy out of the room and reappeared moments later with a silver foil packet that he chucked down on the coffee table. ‘Now where were we?’
‘Not nearly far enough along,’ Fliss told him. She got up and stood in front of Luke, a challenge in her eyes as she undid each button on his shirt, taking a moment to press a kiss on the warm, tanned skin revealed beneath. He shrugged the shirt off, letting it fall to the floor, while Fliss’s busy hands dealt with his belt and his flies.
‘Enough,’ he said, placing a hand over hers to still her actions. ‘My turn.’
His gaze roamed over her with such heat that, though she was still fully dressed, Fliss felt her skin burning up with desire. It took every ounce of her self-control not to rip her clothes off and wrap herself around Luke’s semi-naked body. But his eyes held hers and she forced herself to wait.
