“But a glass of wine would definitely help.” Though she tried to sound frivolous, he could tell it was forced.
He wanted to take her in his arms and sooth her pain, but this wasn’t Giselle Harrington his childhood friend. This was Giselle Harrington the global superstar. The specialness between them had long since leached away. That’s if it had ever been there at all. Giselle had left without a word. Maybe all that time she’d held his heart in her hands, but he’d never possessed hers.
“Right,” he said. “Chardonnay okay?”
“Perfect.” She walked to the far side of the room and stared out the window.
Right, then. This wasn’t about renewing old acquaintances. She didn’t want that. His house was a convenient place to hide out. That was all. But even as Jake walked the length of the hall to the kitchen, he hated the lengthening distance between them.
CHAPTER FOUR
Giselle opened her eyes. Blackness. Everywhere. No. No. No. Her heart raged like waves pounding on a wild open beach. Cold fingers of dread crawled over her body.
She would come and soon. A creak sounded outside her door.
“No,” she screamed at the darkness, scrambling to the corner of the bed that was furthest from the door. She always screamed hoping that this time someone would hear. Someone would come. Someone would save her.
The door crashed open. Light streamed into the room, blinding her. A body was lunging at her. She held her arms over her face but she knew they wouldn’t protect her. Gasping for air, she prepared for pain. But the pain didn’t come. The pungent stink of her mother’s signature fragrance didn’t invade her nostrils. The stinging strike from the cane didn’t land.
Strong arms wrapped around her. Warmth enveloped her.
“Giselle. It’s okay.” Jake’s deep voice sounded around her, stealing away the fear and terror. “You’re having a nightmare.”
She slumped in his arms. If only it was all just a dream. Just a figment of her mind that dissipated when the daylight arrived, but the memories still held a suffocating power over her.
“You’re shaking.” Jake switched on the bedside lamp.
Giselle hauled in a few deep breaths and steadied her body and her mind. She’d vowed to never let her history destroy her. She’d used all that anger and pain to drive herself harder, harder, harder. She’d vowed to be so rich, so untouchable, that no one could ever again have control over her to hurt her or let her down.
“I’m sorry.” Staying in his embrace, soaking up the support he so freely offered, was tempting, but she’d learned young to never rely on others. To fight her battles. Survival depended on never letting down her guard, never letting herself hope that someone would come. Despite not wanting to leave the safety of his arms, she made herself move away.
“Thank you, Jake,” she said with an attempt at a smile. “I appreciate you coming in to check on me, but I’m fine now.”
He frowned. “You don’t look fine.” He ran a hand up and down her arm, as if he could infuse her with his own brand of strength. But the effect of his touch wasn’t what he’d intended. She was suddenly intensely aware that Jake was nearly naked. Bare muscled shoulders. Bare ribbed torso. Bare tanned legs. The boy she’d known had definitely turned into a man. An erotic throb gripped her body, settling low. He wore a pair of black boxer shorts. So not naked, but almost naked. She yanked her gaze away. “Did I wake you?”
“No. I was already up.” Jake stayed seated on the side of the bed. His eyes traveled over her body. She wore one of his old T-shirts that settled at the top of her thighs. His gaze lingered. Her body warmed lusciously under his scrutiny.
His gaze snapped to her own as though he suddenly realized he was staring.
She pulled the curtain back to break the heat pulsing between them. The muted light of dawn tinged the landscape. She focused on the fields outside, trying to pull her body and mind away from the idea of pushing Jake back on the bed, dragging her T-shirt over her head and forgetting all the lingering remnants of fear in the comfort of his body.
“You fell asleep so fast, you left the light on,” he said.
She expelled a quick breath. That’s why she’d woken in the dark. Jake had turned off her light. She hated the dark and craved the light. Sunlight, daylights, bright lights, stage lights. She never, ever wanted to be in darkness. Never again.
But deep down, she knew it was more than just the dark. It was being back in this town, seeing the house where the abuse had taken place. It had been eighteen months since she’d had the nightmare, and this damn town had brought it all rushing back. It would bring her to her knees if she let it.
Jake stood. “Go back to sleep. I’ll make breakfast when I get back from my ride.”
“You’re going horse riding?”
“Yup. I still take a horse out every morning. Want to come? If not, I’ll just skip today.”
What was the alternative, staying alone in this big house with the nightmare still drifting nearby? “Give me five minutes.”
“You.” He crossed his arms across his chest and smiled. “The great Giselle Harrington can be ready in five minutes?” He surveyed the room. “I don’t see any entourage to help you.”
She narrowed her gaze. “I’ll beat you to the stables.”
He laughed. “No chance.”
She shoved him to the door. “You want to bet?”
“Actually I do.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Really? What do you want to bet?”
“If I win, you come on a tour of your mother’s estate to see what the community has done. If I lose, you can pick where we ride.”
She considered his proposition. “No. If I win, you never mention my mother’s estate again.”
He studied her face as though discovering the Mona Lisa for the first time.
“Okay, just so we are clear,” he said slowly. “You need to be in full riding gear—all of it. Shirt, helmet, jodhpurs, boots.”
“Well, I wasn’t planning on riding in this.” She plucked at his T-shirt. His eyes moved over her body again. The intensity of his assessment made the thin cotton fabric feel transparent. She needed to get him out of her room. His smooth, tanned body just inches away and his eyes on her skin were causing a lot of crazy bed-centered thoughts to run through her mind. It certainly wasn’t a horse she’d been fantasizing climbing on top of.
“Borrow Sasha’s kit,” he said. Giselle had often used his sister’s gear when they were young. “It’s in the usual place. You can ride North Wind, the names are above the stalls. The first to be mounted, on a saddled horse, in front of the stables, wins.”
She tapped her fingers on her thighs, then reached out her hand. “Done.”
“Deal.” He shook her hand. “Go.”
He strode from the room. Giselle sat heavily on the bed. She’d been seconds away from making a big mistake. From ripping the shirt over her head and his shorts from his body. Skin on glorious skin.
She shook her head from side to side. Jake was pulling her back to Turtle Beach, to renewing ties. Well more than that. Making new intimate ties. It was a mistake to stay here. Jake was too big a temptation.
Mistake. Mistake. Mistake.
Giselle stripped all the stupid thoughts of Jake and hot sex from her mind and took off down the stairs. She climbed them two at a time the way she’d always done as a kid. She bolted out the door into the dawn light. Jake’s property was less than a few minutes from the beach and she could taste the salt in the air. Her bare feet were wet within seconds from the sparkling dew on the grass. Jake’s T-shirt hugged her body in the light breeze.
Pulling on the wooden bolt, she swung open the stable double doors. She walked through the stables. The strong smell of horse and hay hung in the air. North Wind stood in the last stall. Tall, black and majestic. She patted his nose.
“Hello, boy. Back in a minute.”
Running into the tack room, she pulled open the cupboard where Sasha kept her riding kit.
Immediately she realized she hadn’t thought this through. She was wearing knickers under the T-shirt, but no bra. Too bad. She whipped the shirt over her head and dropped it on the ground. Goosebumps peppered her skin. She smiled. Nowhere else in the world would she ever run outside with no makeup and then strip virtually naked. She hadn’t felt as free as this since … Since she and Jake had roamed Turtle Beach together in their teens.
Foot falls announced Jake’s arrival. She grabbed a riding shirt from the hanger but only had time to turn and hold it up in front of her chest before Jake rushed into the room. He wore tight-fitting riding jodhpurs and was shirtless. She sucked in a breath. He possessed a ruggedness that men in her world just didn’t have.
“Oh God. Sorry.” Jake turned to leave. “I didn’t …”
“I should think so,” Giselle said, faking indignation. “Give a lady some privacy please.”
“Of course.”
She smiled. She’d been counting on Jake being a gentleman. She’d win for sure now. “Wait outside. I’ll let you know when I’m decent.”
“Okay.” He took a step toward the door and stopped. Turned and shot her a knowing smile. “No. That’s not going to work.”
Damn, he was onto her.
“I’ll give you ten seconds to make yourself decent, and then I’m going for my locker.”
“Jake, that’s not appropriate,” she said, trying not to grin but probably failing. “I’m practically naked over here.”
“One. Two. Three.”
Giselle slipped on the shirt and pulled it across her chest. She buttoned it up. The seconds ticked down. She grabbed the jodhpurs.
“Eight, nine, ten.”
Jake spun around. His gaze ran over her. Fire ignited in his eyes. He moved slowly toward her. Suddenly breathing was a little more difficult.
“Giselle,” he whispered.
“Yes?” She could hardly form the words.
He walked slowly toward her and came within an inch of her body. She had nowhere to go. Her back was pressed up against the locker.
“I need …” he said. “I need to …”
She held her breath. He reached over her shoulder.
“My helmet and shirt.” He whipped them over her shoulder and threw her a cheeky smile. “You’d better hurry.”
He’d already turned to leave before she realized her error.
“You bastard.”
He laughed. “See you out there.” He strode from the room.
She dressed quickly, thinking murderous thoughts. Sasha’s clothes were a half-size too small. The shirt strained across her breasts and the jodhpurs left nothing to the imagination. Oh well.
From North Wind’s stall she could hear Jake saddling his horse a few stalls down. She’d never catch him. Time for some drastic measures. She fell to the ground.
“Ouch!” she screamed.
Jake was beside her in a second.
“What is it? Have you hurt yourself?”
“My ankle.” It was the first thing that came to mind. “I think I’ve sprained it.” She gripped her ankle with both hands. She felt a tinge of guilt, but this was not a bet she was prepared to lose. And anyway, Jake had tricked her a thousand times when they were kids. It was time for a bit of delicious payback.
“Let me look,” he said, gently peeling away her fingers and examining her skin. “It hasn’t swollen yet.”
“Do you have any ice? I’m doing an appearance in New York next week. I can’t hobble onto the stage.”
Jake upended a bucket and elevated her foot onto it. “Keep it up until I get back.”
“Okay.” She grabbed his hand for extra-dramatic effect. “Thanks, Jake.”
He smiled. “Sit tight.” He strode out of the stables.
Giselle waited until his footsteps faded and then paused for a heartbeat. She leapt up, raced to the stable doors and peeped out. Jake was halfway back to the house. Excellent. She returned to North Wind’s stall and slid her hand down the stallion’s neck.
“You’re magnificent,” she whispered into the animal’s ear. “Now, we’ve got a bet to win.”
She moved as efficiently as she could. Bridle first. Then blanket on, followed by the saddle. The rich aroma of leather and hay filled her nostrils.
She heard something scrape. She stilled and listened. Nothing. She quickly and carefully tightened the girth, gave North Wind a pat and led the beast from the stall. The stable was still empty. She smiled. Game. Set. Match.
“Tck, tck,” she encouraged North Wind into a walk. Now she wouldn’t need to worry about complications with her mother’s estate. She could sell it and move on. Finish what she’d come here to do.
She led North Wind out into the magnificent Australian morning. She blinked. The light was so different here in her home country. In London, the sunlight was insipid for most of the year. In Australia, it was as though the light danced and shimmered, as if it was so thrilled to arrive in such a beautiful place.
Her eyes focused. What the—? Jake sat straight and triumphant on his horse. Horse and rider fully kitted and raring to go.
“But,” she looked behind her as though the answer would ride out through the stable doors. “How?”
“You always thought you could outtrick me but you never did. Well, not until …”
“The night I left.” The words tumbled out.
“Yeah.”
The sunshine stopped dancing and became harsh like a badly positioned spotlight. Jake had begun to get under her skin. She kept most people well and truly outside her protective defenses, but the moment she’d seen Jake, she’d suffered a nearly fatal emotional blow. She fiddled with the bridle and the stirrups longer than necessary, then lifted herself into the saddle.
“That was a long time ago,” she said.
“You never get over some things, Giselle.”
She shifted in the saddle. Well, wasn’t that the truth? “You knew I was never going to stay here, Jake. I made that very clear. I talked about leaving all the time.”
“Yes, that I knew. What you failed to communicate was the imminence of the get-out-of-Turtle-Beach plan.”
“Things changed.”
“And you didn’t think to mention that you planned to disappear?”
“It wasn’t what you’d call a well-thought-through plan.”
“There have been a lot of years since to address that. A letter. A phone call. An email.” Jake’s voice was harsh and raw and anger singed the edges.
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“Funny, words and communication have never been your problem.”
How could she tell him? My mother hurt me. My mother hit me. My mother nearly destroyed me. The way he’d spoken about Faye Harrington in such glowing terms, he’d be like everyone else and not believe a word.
“Maybe I just didn’t know … don’t know … how to say what needed to be said.”
“Do you know now?”
Looking away, she grazed her teeth over her bottom lip. The seconds ticked by. But the words wouldn’t form.
“I take it that’s a no,” he said. “Let’s go. It’ll get too hot soon.” He hitched his horse to the north and surged it into a gallop.
She watched him grow smaller and smaller as he melted into the distance.
“My mother abused me,” Giselle whispered, the words lost to the ocean breeze.
Jake galloped toward the Harrington property. The border of the Harrington place was only a ten-minute ride across his fields. He’d run it many times as a kid to ask Giselle over to play. Mrs. Harrington had always been a stickler for etiquette and he’d always had to come to the front door and knock. Faye’s permission was a strict requirement. Many times he’d been turned away. Giselle had often been sick as a kid. Never hospital sick, but often away from school for days at a time, sometimes for more than a week. Always with some ailment or another.
He slowed his horse at the gate to the Harrington land. Normally, he would have jumped the fence, bu
t he wasn’t convinced Giselle had kept up her riding skills. Knowing her fearlessness, she’d follow him over, skill or no skill.
He dismounted and opened the gate. The ride had mollified his anger. He shouldn’t have snapped and ridden off. It was childish. Giselle’s disappearance was a long time ago. Why did he still care so much about what had happened when they were kids? She’d moved on. Maybe now he could move on. Seeing her had ensured he knew that his lingering fantasy that somewhere deep inside she still yearned for him was ludicrous. It was a sad and tragic delusion.
Giselle reined up her horse next to him. Her face was red and her eyes burned with molten fire.
“How dare you.”
“Before you get all fire and brimstone, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my cool back there.”
“You’re damn right. You need to understand, Jake Carlton, that just because we were friends when we were kids, doesn’t mean I have to explain myself to you now.”
If North Wind had kicked him, Jake didn’t think Giselle’s harsh words could have hurt him more.
She turned her horse. “I’ll be packed and gone by the time you get back.” She dug her heels into North Wind’s flanks. “Goodbye.”
“That’s it,” he said, not bothering to hide his disgust. “Run away again. Is that your answer to everything? And breaking a promise while you’re at it.”
She wheeled her horse around. “What bloody promise?”
“The bet. If I won, you promised to tour the property. But I suppose being the great Giselle Harrington means you can do what the hell you like and damn the consequences. That’s a kids’ crèche over there.” He jabbed his finger toward the old barn. “The only one we have in this town. And you know as well as I do that some developer isn’t going to honor our agreement with your mother. Your mother kept promising to put everything in writing but she never did. This could all be demolished.” He cut his hand through the air.
She looked across the community buildings but didn’t say anything. Had she changed so much that she really didn’t care about the place that had been her home?
“It took hundreds of volunteers’ hours to build this,” he said. “Hundreds of volunteers doing back-breaking manual labor to restore those buildings. Hundreds of hours fundraising. Losing this will rip the heart out of the community. But, hey.” He threw his hands up in the air. “You just run away and leave destruction in your wake. You’re quite the expert at that.”
Hot Christmas Nights Page 53
