by Ally Forbes
Grabbing her folio case, she left the car and headed round to pick up her little Fiat from the car pull-in at the back of the house.
There was no comparison between the two cars but Tara felt content and easy with her decision. She reversed the car out past the huge Mercedes and headed down the track to the garden.
It took about fifteen minutes to reach the Gardeners Quadrangle and she parked her car and made her way into the courtyard. She would have to speak to Arlen to get the keys for the store.
She knocked on his door but there was no immediate answer. She hung back a bit and pondered her options.
As she turned to leave, the door was opened and a flustered Arlen appeared at the door. He had just showered and had a white towel round his waist. Tara sighed inwardly with desire as her eyes quickly glanced down his beautifully defined body. The bruise from the punch he received was still red and sore looking.
‘Tara. Sorry, caught me in the shower.’
She smiled at him, ‘Just needed to pick up a machete from the store. Could you tell me where to go? Just point in the general direction and give me the key.’
‘Come in and have a cup of tea Tara. I’ll take you round to the store once I’m dressed.’
‘Well....,’ she hesitated.
‘Won’t take me long to get dressed, promise.’ He smiled and he turned to go back into the house before she answered. His back was broad, muscled and tanned.
Having no option but to follow, she made her way in after him and into his kitchen. It was a lovely cream country kitchen and dining room with huge oak dining table and French doors opening out onto the lawns that surrounded the Quadrangle. It 0">dranglewas light, airy and warm.
‘I’ll be right back Tara. Put the kettle on, make some toast.’
He disappeared out and left her in charge.
She felt completely at home in his house. He was so natural with her, so at ease. She filled the kettle and switched it on.
So where do you keep the bread Arlen? she thought to herself.
The kitchen was immaculate. She started to open a few doors. He obviously liked to cook. His cupboards were filled with vast ranges of spices, flours, yeast, dried goods. She found a loaf of uncut bread and pulled a knife from the professional knife block on the granite work surface, cut a couple of slices off the end and popped them into the toaster.
‘You’re a great sight Tara.’
She jumped when he spoke, realising that he had been standing watching her from the doorway. He was leaning against the door post, dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a white t-shirt. His hair was still damp and his dark eyes were almost black against his olive skin.
‘I didn’t realise making the boss his breakfast was part of the job description,’ she grinned at him.
He walked to the fridge and took out some orange juice.
‘Can I help you out today?’
‘Thanks but I’m just going to get to cataloguing the garden. I want to see what I can save, what kind of hard landscaping needs done. I think the next few days at least will just be reconnaissance.’
‘Sure. If you need me just call. I’ll give you my number.’ He looked disappointed but walked to the kitchen table and scribbled his number on a notepad that was lying there.
‘How’ve you settled in to the cottage?’
‘I couldn’t have wished for anywhere more perfect. I slept like a log last night. It’s peaceful, really beautiful.’
Arlen delighted in her enthusiasm for the cottage. She could see his pleasure in her delight obvious in his face.
‘Yeah, it’s a fantastic spot.’
Arlen had pulled a large tea pot from a shelf beside her and busied himself with making tea. He buttered a couple of slices of toast and popped a couple of mugs on the large oak table.
‘Sugar or milk?’
‘Just milk thanks.’
‘Arlen....there was one thing. When I left this morning, there was a new Mercedes at the door from Mr Ashwood. I was ....well...taken aback.......Is this what he normally does?’
The mood immediately changed.
Arlen sucked in his breath, grimacing. He pushed the plate of toast away.
‘I’ve lost my appetite.’
Silence hung betweenh="hung be them, a great fog of unseen hostility.
‘Arlen, please tell me what’s wrong?’ she almost whispered.
‘Come on Tara. I’ll show you the stores.’
There was to be no discussion and the easy informality was gone.
He pushed his chair out from the table and walked out the door. Tara took a quick gulp of her tea and followed him out.
Arlen was already at the opposite side of the courtyard and opening up a large set of double doors. He swung them open and revealed a gardener’s paradise. Racks of tools on the walls, huge potting benches, shelves and shelves of pots, a huge wooden chest filled with little drawers neatly labelled with seeds types, every type of machinery – drive on lawncutter, chainsaws.
‘This is just ..... awesome.’
‘Help yourself to what you need.’ Arlen walked out and back towards his house without even looking at her.
Perplexed and now feeling annoyed she walked after him.
‘Arlen. Stop. Stop!’ Her voice was raised and her anger obvious.
He halted and turned back towards her.
‘Look, I don’t care what’s happened between you and Ashwood but I don’t want anything to do with it. Please keep your feelings about the man out of our professional relationship.’
It was her turn to spin on her heel and head back to the store.
‘Tara. Please come over tonight. 8 o’clock.’ he shouted after her.
She didn’t answer or turn back and moments later she heard him close his front door.
This unsettled her once again and she was more than annoyed that the anger that existed between the two men kept over-spilling into her life. She decided that she would try to find out what the cause of the conflict was. She would get no information from either of the men but was sure someone around here would know something.
She made a quick tour of the store and delighted in what she found. Taking what she needed, she made her way to the garden. There was no sign of Arlen and she was glad.
She wanted the garden to herself. She was very excited about her little bit of undiscovered heaven.
The sun warmed the day enough for Tara to remove her cardigan early on and she relished the feel of the warmth on her bare skin. She lost track of time in the garden, entranced by the place. She documented the original structures around the site, tried to understand what the old gardeners had been trying to grow and where. The scents of the blossom and fresh foliage were intoxicating and the only sound was birdsong. She managed to find the original brick paths and wandered around as much of the site as she could, new discoveries round every turn of the path. The place was magical.
She sipped at her water bottle and it was only when she really started to get hungry that she glanced at her watch and realised that it was mid-afternoon.
Her graph paper sketch book was full and she decided to call it a day.
She climbed back into her little Fiat and headed back to her cottage. She didn’t meet a soul. The sun was sinking lower in the cloudless sky and casting long shadows over the track home.
Happy to get back to her home, she noted that the great big Mercedes was now gone from the front of the house. Her refusal of his gift would make a statement about her lack of interest in anything apart from her employment. She knew she’d made the right decision about it.
She opened the door and immediately felt that someone had been in the house. Something felt different. She checked the ground floor but nothing seemed untoward. Maybe she was imagining things. New house jitters.
Deciding to unwind, she made her way upstairs to run a bath and ease her stiffening legs.
With the bath running, she made her way to the bedroom to choose an outfit for tonight. She had decided th
at, despite their cross words this morning, she would have dinner with Arlen. She wanted to keep their professional relationship friendly and although nothing that had happened between them was her fault, she wanted to let him know that she understood that there was a tension between the two men which she would accept and that she would not enquire further.
She pulled off her jeans as she made her way to the bedroom but stopped dead in her tracks when she crossed the threshold of her room. Hanging from the small wardrobe was the most beautiful cream and black full length evening dress. Matching heels in a very expensive looking box sat underneath on the floor and a clutch bag beside them.
Her hand glided down the dress. Chanel. The shoes were too and they were her size.
There was another note on the dressing table under to the side of the window.
I want you at the house for 7:00. X
Tara was furious. He may own this house but he had no right to let himself or anyone else enter after she had moved in. And the note. A demand. It was no invitation.
This was stepping way over the mark. She did not want to leave this job – after spending a wonderful day in the magical garden it was the last thing she wanted – but this was in no way acceptable and the boundaries would have to be laid down most forcefully.
However, she wasn’t going to change her plans this evening. She decided to return the dress to Xander, tell him what she thought of his actions and what she expected going forward. If he didn’t like it, then he could fire her. Whatever happened, she was going to have dinner with Arlen afterwards.
Stripping off the rest of her clothes she had a long bath and got changed for dinner. She looked wistfully at the Chanel dress that hung so invitingly on her wardrobe but instead chose her navy blue halter neck top and wide straight leg trousers. She tied her long hair up in a loose pile. She hardly wore any make up during the day but now made the most of her deep brown eyes, making them smoky and sensual with dark shadow and liner. She turned in front of the full length mirror and liked what she saw. Soft tendrils of hair escaped from the loose bun on her head and framed her face. Slipping on a pair of dark wedge heels she took the dress, shoes and bag and made her way to the cafulay to tr.
She drove carefully down the track and road towards the big house not quite sure what she would say to Xander. She’d just make it up as she went.
As she approached the house she could see that there was some kind of function in progress. Cars were dropping off men and women in evening dress at the steps to the main door of the house. It was too late to turn back now. She had fed into the queue of cars making their way up to the house. She pulled her car in just before the house, grabbed the dress and made her way up the stairs joining the short queue of couples moving into the house.
She felt self-conscious and anxious now, not sure what she should say or do. There was a man in dinner suit welcoming guests and marking them off a list.
He looked at her expectantly as she approached and it was her time to get checked off the list.
‘Ma’am?’
‘I’m here to see Mr Ashwood. My name is Tara Applebee.’
‘Ah Miss Applebee. Mr Ashwood is expecting you. Please make your way up the stairs, first door on the left.’
Tara did as she was told, feeling very under-dressed and apprehensive. Beautiful people mingled over glasses of champagne and laughter and perfume filled the huge hall. Tara made her way up the huge curving stairway and knocked on the enormous door at the top of the stairs.
Xander Ashbrook opened the door. His eyes wandered down her body and a fleeting look of surprise raised his eyebrows. He was devastatingly handsome in his dinner suit. He turned from her and walked back into the room.
‘Tara. Come in.’ He could barely disguise the displeasure in his voice.
‘Close the door behind you.’
Tara did so and as she entered the room the noise from downstairs immediately was silenced. The room was a huge bedroom with a period four poster bed and dressing area. A fire burned in the large bedroom fireplace.
‘You decided not to wear the dress I chose for you.’
‘I....I won’t be wearing your dress and I won’t be attending this function.’
She could see that this took him by surprise but he hardly lost pace.
‘You’re my employee and on occasions I’ll need you to attend some functions. To talk about the gardens. I need you here tonight.’
‘Mr Ashbrook. You, or someone you employ, entered my house without invitation. You may own the house but please never feel you can come and go as you please. If it happens again, I shall leave. As to attending this function, I’m afraid I’ve already made other plans for tonight and two hours notice for this kind of thing is completely unacceptable.’
She laid the Chanel dress and bag with shoes on the chaise and turned to the door.
‘Tara. Stop right there.’
She had her hand on the door handle and felt the urgency to leave, awu mto leavare of her vulnerability to this powerful man, aware that the noise from downstairs would silence any noise from her.
She felt his hand on her shoulder and he pulled her back from the door and into his arms.
‘I want you here tonight Tara.’
He bent his head to kiss the top of her breasts and she could feel he was hard as he pulled her close to him. She felt scared and exhilarated, her desire for him making her breathing fast and ragged.
He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her hard.
His hands were fumbling with the catch on her trousers. Opening the button, he slipped his hand down into her trousers and into her sex, pressing for her opening. She gasped as he pushed into her. Pulling his finger from her he placed his finger to his lips and licked her scent.
‘No Mr Ashbrook....Xander..... No.’ She pushed him away, trying to button her trousers, turning from him.
His hands cupped her full breasts from behind and he kissed her neck.
Her desire burned for him and she longed to surrender to his overwhelming need for her. But this was not right. She felt like he wanted to own her, buying her favour with the gifts he had showered on her since her arrival.
He loosened the bow from the back of her neck and pulled down her top. He turned her to face him once again, pressing her into him.
‘You can feel it too Tara. I know you can.’
He lifted her off her feet and took her over to the huge four poster bed. He laid her gently down and turned to remove his jacket and bow tie.
Tara quickly tied her top back round her neck, jumped off the bed and moved swiftly to the door.
‘Sorry. This isn’t right.’ She didn’t turn back and opened the door rapidly, closing it immediately behind her, not able or willing to wait for his response, not sure she could resist him if he tried to persuade her to stay.
She moved down the stairs as fast as she could, breathing hard, wondering if the people at the bottom of the stairs could tell something of what had happened between their host and her as she passed.
She fled out the door and past the stragglers still entering the house. Getting back into the car, she grabbed the keys from the sun visor, started the car and drove away from the house, gasping big breaths of air, sobbing with the shock of her encounter with Xander Ashbrook.
She stopped before she reached the Gardeners Quadrangle and Arlen Emberline. Glancing at her watch she knew she was late already but could still smell Xander on her, feel his touch between her legs. She needed to pull herself together.
Climbing out of the car, she breathed in the cool night air. She tidied up the tie on her halter neck and checked the button and catch on her trousers. She undid her hair and piled it up on her head once again. From her handbag, she re-applied her make-up, more soft pinky brown lipstick and an eyeliner touch up. t>
‘As good as new,’ she said to her reflection on the rear-view mirror.
Still slightly shaky, she continued her journey to Arlen’s house, half an hour late.
/> 4.
Tara knocked on Arlen Emberline’s door. She absently pushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, feeling confused and guilty.
Arlen opened the door, his face pensive and sombre.
‘Tara. I thought you weren’t going to come,’ His eyes flitted over her body, ‘You look stunning.’
He swept his hand through his hair and looked at the floor, looking for a moment so lost that Tara wanted to take him in her arms and hold him. He wore a tan suit with a white shirt and looked striking.
‘Come in. Please come in.’
The house was warm and inviting and whatever he was cooking smelled wonderful.
She made her way to the living room. The fire was lit and crackled and popped enticingly and the lights around the room created a cosy, welcoming ambiance.
‘Arlen, I’m really sorry I’m late....I....’
He put his finger to her lips.
‘Shhh. You don’t have to explain. All that matters is that you’re here now.’
He stood close to her and Tara could feel her desire for him like a deep ache. His touch on her lips sent a stab of desire through her that made her heart dance in her chest. She felt small next to him, his smell fresh and soap clean. She inhaled his scent and felt almost dizzy.
‘What would you like to drink?’
‘I’d love a beer. I know it’s not very ladylike..’
‘Great choice. Be back in a second.’
Tara was gradually starting to relax, happy to be with Arlen, away from the huge house and the loss of control she had experienced with Xander. She stood by the fire, feeling the enveloping warmth and gazed into the orange flames.
‘Here Tara.’
Arlen handed her a tall glass of golden beer and she took a welcome sip.
‘That sure tastes great.’
They clinked their glasses together.
‘Well, here’s to a great working relationship.’ He smiled at her.
She smiled back at him but he sensed her preoccupation.
‘’Look Tara, are you OK? You seem a little distant. You know that you didn’t have to come tonight. Dinner is completely optional,’ and then added ‘I’m glad you did.’
