by Ellen March
“No, definitely not.” Riley’s wicked sense of humour rose and she decided to give Eve something to think about. “Since becoming a lesbian, I’ve given up men.”
Eve choked on her water.
Emily dropped the knife she was using to peel the onions.
An awkward silence filled the room.
And Riley struggled to hold down the chuckle that wanted to break free. “There, I think that’s ready now.” She stood back to inspect her masterpiece. Glancing out of the corner of her eye at a shocked Emily, she flashed a teasing wink.
Eve gave her a weak smile. “Well, think I’ll be getting back to my work.” With a final slow searching stare, she left.
“What are you like?” admonished Emily, waggling the knife at her, her eyes twinkling.
“I couldn’t resist it, the nosy cow.” She piled the filling into the dish then attempted the impossible—to cover it with one piece. But she knew that was just wishful thinking. Naturally it fell apart.
“So why isn’t a pretty girl like you snatched up then?” prodded Emily. Filling the sink with hot water, she doused it with a squirt of washing liquid.
“Me, pretty?” Riley’s face wore a startled expression, her eye wide. “Nah, the only thing men want to see are these.” She thrust her huge breasts out. “Nothing else counts. I think that’s all men have on their minds. Boobs and sex.” She sucked in a ragged sigh. “So when they don’t get what they want then I get a text saying I’m dumped. That’s what happened before I left London.”
“Sorry about that, love. Didn’t mean to make you relive painful memories.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m over him. I was considering at one point becoming a lesbian, but it’s like joining the library.” She stared at the ruined pie, wondering how to patch it up.
“I don’t get it, love.” Emily shook her head in confusion.
“Well, the idea sounds good, but do I really want to become a member?” She dabbed some extra pastry bits on until the pie looked like a patchwork quilt. Standing back, she tilted her head carefully, examining it.
Emily was lost. “If you say so, love. Pop the pie in the oven. They’ll be back soon, I would imagine.”
The smell of baking filled the kitchen, and Riley’s mouth watered at the thought of food. Then the phone rang.
“Answer that, can you, Riley?” Emily called out as she diced cucumber into the large salad bowl. The pungent aroma rose in the air—sharp, cool, and fresh.
“Hello?” said Riley, distractedly staring at the mess she’d left behind from her pastry making. It looked like a bomb had gone off in a bakery.
“What are you doing answering the phone?” Jago’s deep voice reverberated down the line.
Riley glared into the receiver, irritated at his tone. Obviously he didn’t think her capable of the simple act. “Okay, I’ll come clean,” she said. “I’ve killed Emily and she’s roasting in the oven.” She waited for his reaction, casually nibbling at her nails.
“Can’t you ever just answer a question?”
Riley could hear his frustration down the line.
“Well I would if it wasn’t such a stupid one,” she snapped back. “So what do you want?” She spat out a sliver of loose nail that she’d chewed off.
Picturing his face, Emily tried not to laugh. No one ever spoke to him like that.
Jago closed his eyes and counted to ten. And taking a deep breath said slowly, “Get down to the stables. We’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Okay.” She hung up.
* * *
“And …. Hello, hello?” Jago slammed the mobile back into his jacket pocket. Cursing her beneath his breath, he urged his horse into a canter, signalling to the group to keep up.
Riley was perched on the fence as the riders approached. The loud clatter of hooves broke the silence as they trotted into the yard.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Would have been better if you hadn’t hung up on me!” Jago stared at the white streaks in her hair, and wondered why she resembled a skunk. He pointed. “What have you done?”
“Oh, I’ve been making pastry.” She continued swinging her legs as she sat on the top rung of the fence. “And I didn’t hang up. I thought you’d finished speaking. Why, what else did you want to say?” She jumped nimbly down onto the ground, her breasts settling a few seconds later.
Jago groaned, wishing she’d cover up. “Nothing, nothing at all now,” he shot back.
Shaking her head, she wandered into the centre of the yard where the small group was gathered. “How did it go, gentlemen?” she asked brightly. As she stood there with hands on rounded hips, they circled her like bees to a honey pot.
“Give me a hand getting off, will you?” asked an overweight, red-faced man. “I’m so stiff I don’t think I can move.”
“Come on then.” She moved towards him and raised her arm to help him off, when she felt a vice-like grip on her wrist.
“There’s no need for that. I’ll do it,” said Jago, looking down at her. He slapped the reins of his horse into her hand. “Take him round the back and unsaddle him.”
His face was hard, and a slight muscle ticked at the side of his face. He knew damn well where the potbellied guy was coming from, and he wasn’t having any of it. There was only one thing stiff with him, and it wasn’t his back.
Turning to the men, he smiled. “Well, hope you enjoyed. Lunch will be served soon if you want to freshen up first,” he stated pointedly. They moved en masse to the converted barn.
Crossing to the stable where Riley rubbed his horse down, he looked in. “Do you think I can safely leave you to sort the horses out while I go and shower?” he asked.
“Well, that’s what you’re paying me for,” she muttered.
Jago went to speak, and then thought better of it. Spinning around, he strode thoughtfully back to the house.
* * *
Her stomach growling loudly, Riley closed the last stable door, wanting nothing more than to sink her teeth into that pie. She was starving.
Emily smiled at her when she skipped into the kitchen. It smelt of warm pastry and baking bread, mixed with a heady aroma of rich ground coffee. “Hungry?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“You bet.” She greedily eyed the golden crust of pastry, white steam rising from it.
Jago strolled in. “Food ready yet?” Pausing, he stared at the pie. “What happened to the top?”
Riley bristled with anger. “It’s my first attempt. I couldn’t help it.” She settled her hands on her hips, her chest stuck out defiantly. “See if you can do any better. Go on, I dare you.”
Jago raised his hands in self-defence, realizing he’d hit a raw nerve. “Hey, I think it looks really good. Honest,” he added at her doubtful look.
“You do?” She flashed him a radiant smile. “Wait till you taste it.”
Jago grinned and she stared back, thinking how beautiful he looked. That’s when it hit her that so far she’d only seen him scowl.
“You should do that more often,” she said, then kicked herself when she’d realized she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. But it was too late to worry about that now.
“What?” he asked in confusion.
“Smile.” She picked her plate up and helped herself to a generous portion.
Emily looked up, and Jago shrugged his shoulders. Then, shaking his head, he joined the party in the conservatory.
Chapter Five
Jago finished his lunch and went in search of Eve. He needed to check his diary before leading the party once more onto the beacons. His outdoor pursuits centre was a pretty lucrative business—not that he had to worry about money. His inheritance from a rich uncle had seen to that. And Jago had been canny, discovering he had a talent for making even more cash on the stock market.
He also happened to love his work.
Eve glanced up, smiling, when Jago strode into the tiny office she used, his huge size making it feel even smaller
. She stared hungrily at his heavily muscled legs that strained against the pale denim of his jeans. The T-shirt he wore moulded to his undulating pecs.
Quickly adjusting her top so that it was as revealing as possible, she leaned forward and pretended to reach for her pen.
Jago glanced down, his gaze skating over her. He knew what she wanted and had contemplated it, but then had squashed the thought. It wouldn’t last and that would mean having to find another secretary.
“Have you got the diary? I need to check when those kids are coming.” He rifled through the mound of papers strewn over the desk. Glancing out of the window, he saw Riley standing with the men. Her head was thrown back with laughter.
Eve turned to see what was interesting him and smiled. “They’re getting very friendly with her, aren’t they?” she purred, gauging his expression before dropping her bombshell. “Wasting their time, though.”
“What did you say?” Jago frowned, wondering what she was getting at.
“You mean you don’t know?” She handed him the diary.
“Don’t play games, Eve. If you know something that you think I should be aware of then you need to tell me.” His cold eyes splintered across her. “Now!” His voice cracked like the snap of a whip.
Eve stared at him, her lips pulled into a pout. “She’s a lesbian.” For the first time since coming to work for him, she saw him struck dumb.
His lips moved tentatively before he could make any words come out. “Who told you?”
“Riley told me herself.” She played her trump card. “Ask Emily if you don’t believe me. She was there.”
Jago shook his head. A lot of what she’d said made sense now. The way she spoke—the ‘wet dream’ and other crude language—she acted more like a man than a woman.
But God, as a woman she had a body to die for.
“Don’t you want the diary?” Eve called out after his departing back. She smirked happily at the silence.
* * *
Riley watched them disappear through the gates and wondered what was wrong with Jago. He’d not spoken to her much, not even shouted at her, and that in itself was strange. Then, forgetting about him, she began mucking out the stables. By the time she’d finished every single muscle was aching, even those she didn’t know she had. Standing up she rubbed the small of her back.
All she wanted was a nice hot soak in the bath and bed. After all, she’d had only a few hours of sleep. She looked up into the bright sky, where the afternoon sun glared back at her. And cursed when she realized how long it would be before she could sink her weary bones into a soft mattress.
Ambling tiredly up to the house, she tried desperately to keep her eyes open, but her lids were having none of it.
“You look washed out, love,” commented Emily at her pale face and pinched features.
“I’m shattered,” she muttered. “Do you think it would be okay if I had a quick shower to wake me up?”
“Go on, up you go.”
Riley stared at the shower and then at the huge sumptuous bath. Her decision made, she flicked the taps on, tossing in the heady fragrance that Jago obviously wore. She didn’t care that it was masculine; she was desperate to remove the smell of sweat from her body. She swished her hands in the water, where the bubbles rose up, white and effervescent. Quickly stripping off, she left her clothes pooled in a heap on the tiled floor.
She stepped in and felt the scalding heat soak over her body. She sank down, relaxing beneath the hot water frothing over her. Exhausted, she rested her head back on the curved bath, designed for just that purpose. The steam rose and swirled. Her lids heavy, she closed her eyes.
Just for a moment, she thought tiredly.
Her head flopped to the side.
* * *
Jago rode into the yard looking for Riley, annoyed that she wasn’t there. She was paid to do a job and she couldn’t even be bothered to turn up for it. By the time he’d sorted the horses out, his temper was at boiling point.
And still no sign of her.
Finishing with the last, he slammed the door shut and stormed up to the house.
“Have you seen her?” he shouted at Emily.
“Er, not for a while, not since she said she was going upstairs,” she muttered, unsure what else to say. A quick glance at her watch and she gasped. That had been over two hours ago.
“Really?” He turned, and with long strides, angrily tore out of the kitchen. Taking the stairs two at a time, he paused outside her bedroom. He knocked briefly before throwing the door open. There was no sign of her and he wondered where the hell she’d hidden herself now. Then, noticing the closed bathroom door, he nudged it open slowly.
It was empty, the large mirror that hung over the basin misted in condensation. Obviously she’d had a shower, he reasoned, opening it and checking. Jago pulled it closed. He walked around the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. Oh, sweet Jesus!
Riley lay in the bath, fast asleep, her body partly covered with water.
He swallowed hard. His eyes feasted on her perfect frame, the huge breasts that jutted out of the water, resembling giant ice floes. A smattering of white foam frothed at the base. He stepped forward, his hands out, ready to cup them, until he got a hold of himself and pulled back. Then he gulped again, because her nipples were exactly the shade of dark chocolate he’d imagined.
Taking a deep breath, he noticed her dimpled skin and dipped his hand quickly into the water. Feeling the cold chill, he realized she had to be exhausted. Tiny puffs of breath skated out from her partly open mouth. He stood uncertainly, wondering what the hell to do. He couldn’t leave her there, and yet he felt guilty waking her.
Kneeling beside the bath, he pulled her limp body forward. Her head fell back, but she didn’t stir. Cursing, he closed his eyes and slid his hands beneath her. He lifted her easily, the water dripping downwards into the bath. Briefly Jago hesitated, unsure of what to say if she woke up now. Then, snatching at a large towel, he hurriedly carried her to her room and gently placed her on the bed.
His eyes never left her body. His gaze travelled across her exquisite face, along her massive chest, and down past her flat stomach to the dark V that stood out at the apex of her thighs. And, with shaking hands, he reluctantly covered her up.
Jago stayed for a moment beside the bed, and he knew with a certainty she couldn’t stay.
Not now that he knew what she looked like naked—so deliciously hot and sexy. His heart slammed into his chest. A hardness built up in his crotch, his arousal soaring. He was disgusted at his own lack of control. With one last longing look, he closed the door.
* * *
Riley woke early the next morning and rubbed her eyes. She was sure she’d last been in the bath. And then, looking down at the towel she was loosely wrapped in, she tried to figure out how on earth she’d gotten back to her room.
She stood and stretched tiredly. Surprised she was naked, she slipped on her thong panties, along with a T-shirt, and wandered across the landing into the bathroom.
Jago stood at the mirror shaving, enjoying the peace and solitude, yet he couldn’t stop thinking of how Riley had looked lying in the bath last night.
The door slammed open with a loud bang and Riley wandered in.
She stopped in her tracks when she saw Jago standing in front of the basin. Her eyes immediately dropped to his crotch; she wished she could get over her obsession with his cock. A secret smile snuck across her lips at the sight of it curled up, sleeping behind the thin material of his boxers. Come on baby, wake up for me.
“Er, morning,” she blurted out, uncertain what to say. She still wasn’t sure what had happened to the rest of yesterday. Riley forced herself to look up at his face. She was definitely enjoying the sight of him naked, apart from his neat boxers.
“You could knock,” Jago said acidly, his eyes penetrating her clothes.
“I could, but I didn’t,” she said with a shrug. “Should I, from now on?”
�
��If you don’t want to see me naked, then yes.” His voice was sharper than he intended. Seeing her again, he relived seeing every tiny detail of her body for the first time.
“In that case, I won’t knock,” she promised wickedly.
Turning, she closed the door behind her, leaving Jago with a glimpse of a perfectly shaped naked ass. Staring back at his reflection, he shook his head with frustration, unable to work out the signals she was sending out. His cock stirred restlessly.
* * *
Sitting in the kitchen, Riley rested her elbows on the table and waited for Jago to put in an appearance. She slowly sipped her coffee, still pondering the mystery of how she’d gotten to bed.
Jago sauntered in and poured himself a cup. He stared at her, not saying a word, simply looking.
Riley glanced down at herself, checking to see if she’d left anything exposed. “So?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
He took a deep breath, biding his time, trying to phrase the words just right. “Riley, it’s not going to work,” he said eventually.
“What do you mean?” Her voice was rising in desperation. “I haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t sack me!”
“I need a man around here. If I wanted a woman, I’d have advertised for one,” he said firmly.
“Where, in the back pages of the paper?” she spat out.
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Look, don’t make this any more awkward than it already is.”
“And another thing, how the hell did I get to bed?”
“I carried you,” he replied automatically, too late realizing what he’d said.
Riley felt her colour rise, a scorching fiery red. “You saw me naked?” she choked. Holy shit. One tiny bit of her wondered what he thought of her body. She was aware that it wasn’t bad; it was just that no one else had ever seen her without a stitch on.
Jago nodded tersely, not giving anything away. “I couldn’t wake you up. So it was either leave you in the cold water till you shrivelled up like a prune, or carry you to bed.”
“Well, I hope you liked what you saw.” A red-hot flush stained her face and she turned away, unable to look at him. She prayed she hadn’t been drooling or snoring.
