Once Bitten

by Oliver, Marina

  ONCE BITTEN

  BY

  MARINA OLIVER

  Judy Morton doesn't want a man in her life. She breaks off her engagement to two-timing Mark Simmons, and is grateful to her sister Fay who asks her to look after her dogs while she and husband Paul have a long holiday in Australia.

  She is delayed starting out, arriving after Fay and Paul have left. Letting herself into the house she tosses some luggage onto the spare room bed only to find Justin Danby occupying it. He is Paul's cousin, offered a room by Paul until he can move into his own flat, which is being rented out while Justin, an architect, was working in Oman. He tells her Fay, an interior designer, often works with him and Judy suspects he and Fay could be closer than just colleagues. Justin is also recovering from a broken engagement from Barbara, who ditches him for a rich Texan.

  Justin offers to move out, meanwhile they agree they can co-exist. Justin suspects there is something worrying Judy. Walking the dogs Judy meets a neighbour, Ken, talkative and hospitable. Then their pasts begin to catch up with them. Late one evening Mark arrives, aggressive and attempting to resume the engagement. Barbara comes, having decided her Texan is not for her.

  Judy, meanwhile, is hoping to expand her small business designing and selling greetings cards, and Ken's wife Magda suggests she takes a stall at a local craft fair.

  Once Bitten

  By Marina Oliver

  Copyright © 2011 Marina Oliver

  Smashwords Edition

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  Cover Design by Debbie Oliver

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  See details of other books by Marina Oliver at www.marina-oliver.net

  Author note

  I couldn't resist giving Gypsy, a rescue dog I used to own, a small part in this story, and featuring her on the cover. A Collie/Saluki cross, she was nervous after being ill-treated, but amazingly gentle and affectionate once she came to trust us.

  ONCE BITTEN

  BY

  MARINA OLIVER

  Chapter 1

  The pounding on the door made Judy knock over her coffee mug. Who on earth could be wanting her so urgently at half past five in the morning, she wondered, as she tried to mop up the coffee from the counter top. Mark was unlikely to be awake so early.

  Nonetheless she peered carefully through the spyhole, then opened the door.

  'Kate? What is it? Are you OK?'

  Kate Baverstock, clutching a bathrobe round her, was leaning against the wall opposite.

  'The baby's coming,' she gasped. 'The pains are so strong,' she added, and winced, bending over.

  Judy tried to recall what one did. First try to calm the mother, she thought.

  'Right, have you rung the hospital? Are they sending an ambulance?'

  'Yes, but it's almost a month early, and I have no one to take the children.'

  'Your mother? Wasn't she supposed to be helping out?'

  'She's in Tenerife, not due back until the end of the week.'

  Judy tried not to panic herself. Kate's twin toddlers were delightful little girls, but she had only ever babysat for Kate when they were safely in bed. She braced herself. She had to offer. After all, she and Kate were friends, and Kate was a good neighbour.

  'I can stay with them until Bill gets home. When's he due back?'

  Bill was a flight steward, and Judy prayed he wasn't off on a three-day trip.

  'He'll be back mid-morning. Thanks, Judy. I have to go and pack my case.'

  'I'll be over as soon as I'm decent.'

  As she changed out of the overlarge tee shirt she used as a nightie Judy tried to feel sympathetic. She'd been planning to leave before six, partly to avoid the early rush hour traffic, partly so that Mark would not see her and resume the argument they seemed to have been having for the past three months. Now she might not get away until lunchtime. Well, at least he would not find her in Kate's flat. She put her cases close to the front door, ready to load into her car as soon as Bill was home, and checked everything was switched off, the fridge empty, her duvet pulled neatly across her bed. She had to leave the flat tidy in case the estate agents came round with a potential buyer. She heard the ambulance arrive as she locked the front door.

  *

  It was only a short taxi ride to the friend's house where he had left his car. Justin gratefully accepted a cup of strong black coffee, then set off for the flat his firm had rented for him until his own was ready. It was the top floor of an Edwardian villa, and would have to do for a month. It was his own fault for coming home earlier than he was expected, instead of staying for the full time he'd planned on the Indian trip, but he hadn't fancied more of that on his own. At least he would have time away from the office routine to work on the next house, a commission he had picked up while in Oman.

  As he tried to sort out the keys left for him, the front door opened and a plump, middle-aged woman looked him up and down.

  'Are you Mr Danby?'

  He nodded. 'I am.'

  'The new tenant of the penthouse apartment?'

  Justin stifled a grin. From the details he had seen he didn't feel a one-bedroom flat in the former servants' attics justified such a description.

  'I am. And you are?'

  'Mrs Wetherby. I live on the ground floor, and I offered to meet you and explain. I'm afraid, Mr Danby, there has been a slight accident.'

  Justin raised his eyebrows. 'Accident?'

  'Yes. A leak. The water tank burst last week. The apartment is, I'm afraid, quite unusable. You see, all the ceilings came down. We are fortunate the damage was confined to that floor.'

  Fortunate for her, Justin thought. He was exhausted from the overnight flight, and wanted only to collapse into a bed. He'd have to find a hotel.

  Mrs Wetherby was speaking again and he forced himself to listen.

  'The agents asked me to tell you that if you called on them they would be happy to show you what other apartments are currently available. You do have their address? You can park in the multi-storey by the station, and it's only five minutes away, just off the pedestrian part of the High Street.'

  Justin managed to thank her without giving way to his angry frustration. If the agents had not been able to contact him for a whole week, when they had his mobile number and his email, he was not going to waste time looking for their offices, and then, no doubt, be offered numerous unsuitable alternatives. He would make his own arrangements.

  *

  When Bill arrived home he was understandably anxious about Kate.

  'Can you stay while I go to the hospital?' he asked.

  Judy sighed. 'I have to be at my sister's today. She's going on holiday, and I'm looking after her dogs.' On what should have been her wedding day, she thought, she was instead going to spend a month with two dogs. 'Isn't there anyone else you can call on? What about that girl Gemma who sometimes babysits? Schools are closed, she may be able to come.'

  'I'll ring her.'

  To Judy's relief Gemma was able to come, so by eleven she was able, at last, to get away. She'd seen Mark leave in his car an hour earlier, so got her
cases downstairs and into her car, and was away before he knew about it. As she pulled out into the main road she heaved a deep sigh. She had made it, and Mark would be unable to find her. Maybe this time he would believe her, and she had four weeks of freedom to concentrate on building up her new business.

  Her relief was short lived. By now the traffic round Manchester was heavy, and then she hit the lunchtime rush hour on the M6 round Birmingham. There was no way she could get to Fay's before her sister had to leave for the airport.

  As she left the M5 for the M42 she pulled into a service station. She was desperate for a coffee, not having had any that morning. And she needed to let Fay know she would be late.

  Fay answered on the first ring. She sounded fraught.

  'Judy? Where are you? No problems, I hope?'

  'Fay, I'll be late, but I will get there this evening.' Judy explained.

  'I'll leave the house key in the dog kennel, then,' Fay said. 'No one will look there, even though the dogs never use it. I have to go soon. Sure you know how to get here?'

  'You sent directions, and I think I'm capable of following them. Go and enjoy your holiday. My love to Paul.'

  Fay huffed. 'If I get to see him!'

  'Why? What do you mean?'

  'He's gone off early, said he had something to do first, and we'll meet at Heathrow. But you know Paul, he has no idea of time once he starts talking about his photography. I just hope he gets there in time, but I'm going, whether he turns up or not.'

  'He'll be there.' Judy tried to sound confident, but she knew her brother-in-law. 'Now don't worry, it will all be OK, and you just have to forget work and enjoy Australia.'

  As she switched off her phone she knew her advice had been wasted. Fay was incapable of forgetting work. Her sister was a talented interior designer, and though Judy knew she had completed her latest job, on a prestigious new hotel, she would no doubt be thinking about whatever the next project was.

  She was more concerned about the state of her sister's marriage. If only she could have talked to Fay, properly, but she hadn't seen her sister for almost a year. Phone calls and text messages were not the same as a face to face conversation, and she was certain all was not well. Fay had refused to admit it, but Paul had been away from home much more than usual during the past year.

  It had seemed such an ideal marriage three years ago. Both were artistic, doing well in their careers. Fay had progressed from her first job furnishing show houses for a large firm of builders, to individual ones such as the hotel she had just been decorating and furnishing. Paul Morris was making a name for himself with his wild-life photography, but it had meant he travelled all over the world on his commissions. That was partly why Fay had adopted her dogs, abandoned ones she had found at a rescue kennels. She had once admitted to Judy that she felt lonely at times. And Paul, when he had once answered the phone one evening, had been unusually curt as he told her Fay was out.

  'Working, she says,' he'd added. 'Why that has to include dinners at fancy restaurants, I don't know. I'll tell her you called.'

  Was there another man in Fay's life? Was this what was wrong? Had she become involved with someone else just because she was left so much on her own? Judy shrugged. There was nothing she could do about it if Fay didn't confide in her, and perhaps this trip, arranged only a couple of weeks ago, would help. Or, she thought gloomily, finish it if they found they could not enjoy being together. Glancing at her watch she hurried over her coffee and set off again. It would take her hours to reach the south coast town where Fay lived, and though she had tried to sound happy about her ability to find the new house, things could easily go wrong.

  *

  It was dark when she pulled into the driveway alongside a smart sports car. Fay had not told her she had changed her car. She and Paul must be doing well, financially, able to take off on a month-long holiday to Australia, though Paul would no doubt make money from it with his photography.

  She got out of her Corsa and stretched. It had been a long and frustrating day, and she had eaten just a sandwich picked up at a service station on the M40 when it had been clear she would not get to Fay's until late in the evening. If it hadn't been for the dogs she would have given up and found somewhere to stay the night. There had been a massive traffic jam on the M40, and then another near Gatwick causing a long, tedious and slow diversion because an accident had closed the motorway.

  She must ring the hospital tomorrow and find out how Kate was. Tonight she was too weary, longing only for something to eat and bed. Looking round the Close, Judy admired the setting. Fay and Paul had bought the house six months ago, and she had seen only photographs. A dozen detached executive neo-Georgian houses were clustered round a patch of open ground on which several small trees had been planted with mathematical precision. It wasn't her sort of place, but for a month Cherry Tree Close suited her very well. She could relax, free of the constant expectation of seeing Mark and having to try and convince him their engagement was over.

  Fay had, as promised, left the keys in the dog kennel. The lights in the Close didn't spread into the back gardens, but Judy had a torch in the car, which miraculously had batteries still working. She grinned wryly. That was something she had to thank Mark for. He fussed continuously, frequently infuriating her as he tried to organise her life, but occasionally, she thought, his fussing could be useful.

  Judy found the keys, then, heaving two suitcases out of the boot, her laptop and a heavy tote bag from the back seat, she went to the front door. Inside the house she dragged her suitcases into the hall, and dumped the laptop on the hall table. Behind what she assumed was the door to the kitchen at the back of the hall she heard snuffling noises. Two eager dogs emerged when she opened the door, jumping up and trying to lick her face.

  'Fat lot of good you pair are as guard dogs,' she muttered as she patted them. She liked dogs and was happy to help out. Fay would not consider putting them in kennels, and given their early somewhat chequered lives, Judy sympathised. She promised them food and walkies later, and took the tote bag upstairs. It had what she'd need for the first night, and as she must give the dogs a short walk, she'd be too knackered to unpack the rest tonight. All she wanted was a cup of tea, some food, and bed.

  Upstairs she pushed open the door of the spare room, the one with the en suite which Fay had told her was all ready for her. The curtains were closed, but she could see the outlines of furniture, and slung the tote bag onto the bed.

  There was a scuffle and a few choice expletives.

  'What the blazes?'

  For a moment Judy froze. Burglars? No, they hadn't found the keys, she had, so they must have broken in, but they weren't likely to sleep on the job. Had Paul for some reason not gone on the trip? If so why was he in the spare room? Surely Fay would have said. Squatters, who'd known the house was empty? It hadn't been her fault she'd been delayed, and Fay had had to leave to catch the plane. Trembling, she reached for the light switch just as the bedside lamp was switched on.

  A man was sitting up in the bed, his dark hair tousled, and, as far as she could see, wearing nothing to cover up impressively wide shoulders and muscular arms.

  'Who the devil are you?' he demanded, irritably shoving the tote bag off the bed.

  Judy took a steadying breath. At least he didn't look like a burglar, and he was older than she imagined squatters would be. Nor did he have the sort of untidy facial hair the squatters who appeared on TV seemed to sport.

  'I think that's my question,' she managed. 'What are you doing here?'

  He shook his head as if to clear it, and pushed back the duvet. For a horrified moment, as long brown legs emerged, Judy thought he was naked, but when he stood up, his more than six feet looming over her five feet and a bit, she breathed a sigh of relief. His briefs were skimpy, but decent. But that didn't explain why he was here.

  *

  'Go downstairs, I'll come and we can introduce ourselves when I'm decent.'

  Judy bristled at hi
s air of command, but she had no desire to remain in this bedroom, and she was still hungry and desperate for a cup of tea. She retrieved her tote bag and left it on the landing, then went down to the kitchen and switched on the kettle.

  As she was getting bread and the makings of a sandwich out of the fridge she heard a crash upstairs, and some furious imprecations, the words 'idiotic women' floating clearly down the stairs. Then he appeared in the kitchen. He'd put on a towelling robe, one Judy had given Fay some years ago which had Snoopy pictures on it, and which Fay had relegated to the guest room. It was straining across those shoulders and gaped at the front to reveal a discreet triangle of chest hair. Judy couldn't stand men with a fur mat, nor those with naked chests. His was just right. Her faint admiration took a dive, though, at his next words.

  'Did you have to leave that bag just where I would trip over it?'

  'Perhaps you should look where you're going! And now, who are you and what are you doing in my sister's house?'

  'Your sister? Fay is your sister? You don't look much like her.'

  Fay was tall, with long blonde hair and a willowy figure. Judy was short, plumper than she liked, and had dark curly hair.

  'What on earth does that matter? I'm Judy Morton, and I'm here to look after the dogs,' Judy snapped, snatching her attention back to his questions. 'Who are you, and why are you here?'

  He grinned, and Judy tried not to let her anger disappear. His dark hair, too long for tidiness, had a slight wave. His cheek bones were high, almost Slavic, and his eyes were a vivid blue. His face was tanned, and from what she could see his legs and chest were tanned too. She felt a frisson along her spine, and tried to damp it down. What on earth was she thinking of, assessing this man and his attractiveness when she had just got rid of Mark, and had no desire to get involved with anyone else, for a very long time, if ever.

  'May I have a cup of tea, please Miss?' he asked, deceptively meek but with a twinkle in his eyes Judy tried to ignore. He pulled a chair out and sat at the table.