by Ellen March
A semblance of a smile twitched at his lips. “I wouldn’t complain,” he said honestly.
“Good.” Pleased at his reply, she felt a burst of excitement flare deep in her stomach. “But what’s that got to do with sacking me?” She moved quickly away from the subject of her nudity.
“Because ….” He stumbled over his words. What could he say? Finally he threw up his hands in defeat. “Oh, never mind! Just get yourself ready for this morning.” He slammed his mug down and stormed out of the kitchen.
“What’s up with him?” asked Emily, bustling in as he charged past.
“Male hormones, I hope,” said Riley thoughtfully.
* * *
Jago decided that if he couldn’t sack her then he would maintain as much distance as possible. He even resorted to putting a bolt on the bathroom door. Over the coming days he spoke only when necessary. He did everything he could to keep his eyes off her, not wanting to look at what he couldn’t have.
And didn’t want, he reminded himself forcefully.
* * *
Riley resigned herself to the fact that Jago didn’t like her. Any hopes that he actually fancied her were now fading fast. She tried to get over her fixation with his cock, only too aware that was one route she wouldn’t be going down, literally.
Her nights were spent watching TV, alone, because he always seemed to find somewhere else to be. Anywhere, as long as it wasn’t with her. It would have been laughable if it wasn’t so obvious, she thought with a rush of anger. She wished he’d summon enough emotion to shout at her. At least then he wouldn’t be ignoring her.
Riley was so bored in the evenings that she had even taken up reading. She was also becoming an expert on the evening soaps. Her days were filled with activity, but her nights stretched out before her, long and lonely. She wondered how much more of this enforced solitude she could take.
It was relatively late, and she sat perched on the fence and peeked up at the sky, trying to work out the stars. After referring to the book she held in her hands, she attempted to spot Orion. She couldn’t believe the highlight of her evening was star gazing and speculated what other form of hedonistic excitement she’d find next to do in this barren wilderness.
Stuck as she was with a man who obviously hated her.
She toyed briefly with the idea of leaving. But no, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. That’s what he wanted, and no way was she going to make it easy for him.
When she spotted him on the path, she gave him a hungry look, taking in the sexy roll of his hips, the way they swivelled as he strode towards her. He looked good enough to eat, she thought wistfully, but she could forget the fine dining. He obviously didn’t think her worth a nibble.
His denims were indecently tight around his heavy thighs and slim hips, and she willed her eyes to look upwards.
“Where are you going—anywhere nice?” she asked conversationally as he neared.
“Out,” he replied tersely.
“Date?” Unfazed by his rude reply, she stubbornly kept trolling for information.
“Yes, actually.” He glanced at the book she held and could hardly believe his eyes. “Stargazing?” he said.
“Well, not much else for me to do around here, is there?” She resumed her nodding, looking down at the diagram then up at the sky. Only this time, she leaned too far back and with a screech, toppled over.
Automatically Jago dived forward.
He caught her in his arms but let go as soon as she was steady again. “Riley, why the hell don’t you look what you’re doing?”
She grinned. That was the Jago she knew.
She gazed up into his eyes, and her breath hitched in fascination as he paused. Slowly he lowered his head, his tongue stealing seductively across his lips. But at the last minute he spun away. For a fleeting moment she thought he was going to kiss her. What would that be like? she wondered. Would his lips be soft? What would they taste like?
“Don’t wait up,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I’ll be late.” Avoiding her eyes, he turned and continued down the path.
“Night,” she whispered softly, watching him go.
Would he turn round and give her one last look? Come on, baby, for me? She grinned when he did.
She knew then he didn’t dislike her as much as he made out.
Chapter Six
It was almost midnight when Jago drove back into the yard. Glancing up at the house, he was relieved to see it was in darkness. At last she’d listened to him, he thought with relief.
Slamming the door shut, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked slowly up the path. He hadn’t been fair to Teresa tonight; he’d specifically gone to her, only too aware of how good she was in bed. Yet it hadn’t been enough. There had been no enjoyment, not even the release he’d hoped for. Just more pent-up emotions.
He realized the problem was Riley.
But how the hell did you get off with someone who doesn’t like men? he thought with frustration. And did he really want to? With her mouth and uncouth habits, she’d fit in better down the docks.
And that was the problem; it was what he disliked most about her.
Closing the door behind him, he listened to a strange tapping sound. Unable to work out what it was, he noticed a shaft of light filtering beneath the kitchen door. Walking curiously towards it, he pushed it open and peered in.
Riley was standing on the pine table with her back to him. She appeared focussed on the floor, her head bent. “Go on, get away,” she whispered.
She threw a hazelnut, which hit the tiled floor with a click then rolled away, joining the others that lay scattered.
“I mean it!” Raising one leg, she squealed, “Oh God, I hate rats.” She stared at the whiskered threat, its beady eyes steadily watching her.
She attempted to leave her perch, balancing on one chair and leaning across towards the fruit bowl for an orange. She just about managed to grip it. “Yes,” she yelled triumphantly, arriving safely back on the table.
Holding her prize she scoured the area. “Where are you? Come on ….” she coaxed.
Her eyes narrowed when she spotted it at the far end of the kitchen. She threw the orange hard at him. Her hands flew to her mouth when it hit the vase of flowers sitting on the window. She shut her eyes in horror as it crashed to the floor.
“Riley, what the hell are you doing?” asked Jago, unable to watch her any longer.
She spun round guiltily. “Trying to kill that.” She pointed to the space where the rat had been. Then bent down and peeped under the table. “A rat,” she whispered. “He was there, honestly.”
Jago leaned against the doorjamb, arms folded. “How long have you been up there?”
Riley studied her nails, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Not long,” she lied.
“In that case, I’ll just knock the light off and leave you here.” His hand came up, and the room was instantly bathed in darkness.
“Jago,” she screamed, so loudly that he hit the switch again.
“I’ve been here all night, if you must know. And I’m scared of rats.” She gulped back a sob, and a solitary tear tracked its way down her face. She hated to cry in front of him, but she was hungry, tired, and feeling sorry for herself.
Jago gestured to her. “Come on. It’s safe.”
Riley shook her head stubbornly. “Nah, he’s here somewhere. I can feel it.”
“Riley, it’s just a mouse for God’s sake.” He raked his hand through his hair, mystified by her fear.
“Its’ a rat,” she whispered, wrapping her arms round herself and shivering.
“For Christ’s sake, come here, or we’ll be up all night.” He grasped her roughly and tossed her over his shoulder. Carrying her out of the kitchen, he kicked the door shut.
“You forgot the light,” she reminded him. Riley found herself deposited abruptly on the hallway floor.
“Get to bed,” he ordered, wanting her out of his sight.
“
Okay, okay. Obviously you didn’t have a very good night then.” She looked expectantly up into his face.
“On the contrary, it’s the coming home that’s the problem,” he countered smoothly, convinced that would shut her up.
“Nah, don’t think so.” She smiled. “But if it makes you happy, you keep thinking that.” She ran lightly up the stairs.
Jago shook his head in frustration. How did she keep doing that? Always getting the last word in.
* * *
Riley was busy packing a mound of bacon in between her thick toast slices when Jago strolled into the kitchen. Most women he knew would delicately cut the fat off. Not her. She was stuffing it all in, making sure she didn’t miss one bit of the cholesterol-elevating substance.
“Anybody coming in today?” she asked, trying to talk and eat at the same time.
Jago swallowed and turned away, unable to miss the glob of red sauce that oozed out of her mouth. “Yes, but we’re not taking the horses out; we’re doing a hike.” A germ of an idea was taking hold. He was sure she’d pack her bags after this.
A devilish smile spread across his face. “In fact, I think it would be a good idea if you came along.”
Riley swallowed and then coughed as the bacon caught in her throat. Spitting a piece out, she tossed it casually into the bin. “What, me go walking with you?” She eyed him suspiciously.
This most definitely wouldn’t be a social outing, she thought, not with her along, anyway.
“Well, it’s what I hired you for,” he reminded her, taking the neat pieces of toast that Emily put in front of him. The china plate clacked on the wooden surface.
“Where?”
He hadn’t spoken to her for days and now he wanted her company? Nope, she knew he was up to something.
“Does it matter? It’s not as if you know the area.” As he leisurely sipped his coffee, he checked the time. “They’ll be here in an hour, so feed and water the horses and get changed.”
She glanced down at her tight jodhpurs and knee-high boots. “What’s wrong with what I’ve got on?”
“You’re hiking now, not riding. So dress accordingly.” His green eyes scored over her. “You have got walking boots?”
“Nope,” she answered honestly. And gave him a smug smile. “So sorry, I can’t come.” She had a real bad feeling about this so-called hike.
“It’s okay. I’ve got several pairs in the stores just for people like you.” He looked at her feet. “Four and a half?”
“Five,” she said. “Guess they won’t work.”
“Perfect,” he said. “It pays to be prepared.” Eyes twinkling, he rose and left her sitting at the table. Whistling a tuneless ditty, he strolled down the hallway and out of the house.
“Bloody great,” muttered Riley, finishing her breakfast then looking to Emily. “How long does this normally take?”
“Depends, love, on where he takes you and how fit the people are. Sometimes it’s moderate, other times hard. A lot of hill work. Could be a few hours or the whole day.” She didn’t miss the look of horror that crossed Riley’s face.
“What about food?” Until coming to this place, she’d never been farther than ten feet from a fast-food outlet. She was pretty certain there wasn’t one where they were going.
“You’ll be carrying it in your rucksack.”
Riley swallowed, and shaking her head, went down to the stables, then over to the stores and collected her boots, as well as a rucksack that looked enormous. She sized it up warily. The only plus side was that she could take plenty to eat.
* * *
Jago greeted his guests, a family of three. They were all geared up for the walk, but he couldn’t help noticing how new everything was. He feared they weren’t as fit as they’d made themselves out to be, especially when his gaze fell on the distinctly plump son, who obviously spent more time in front of a computer than exercising.
Still, he wasn’t bothered as long as they were paying him. He put his original route of Pen y Fan on hold, opting for an easier path.
It was a shame, though, because it might spoil his plan to be free of Riley. Still, Jago was convinced she’d be handing in her notice after this. Then he’d also be free of the vision that visited him on a nightly basis. He sucked in a sigh, again remembering the sight of her naked body, and what he wanted to do to it. As his cock stirred to life, he forced his thoughts to shift.
“Nice to meet you,” he told the family. “I’m Jago, and I’ll be your guide.” He shook hands that felt soft and smooth. “I hope you’re all looking forward to it?”
The slight woman nodded her head earnestly. “I can’t wait! We’re really excited, aren’t we?” In her sweeping gaze, she included her husband and son, who didn’t appear to share her enthusiasm.
“Good, glad to hear it.”
He turned, following their curious looks, and briefly shut his eyes.
“Morning,” greeted Riley, a huge smile brightening her features. She struggled with her backpack, the straps refusing to sit right. “Ready when you are.”
She’d checked her essentials off her tick list. Lipstick, sun cream, mobile and food, plenty of it, along with a bright pink umbrella, complete with a frill that dangled from the end.
Jago looked her up and down in disbelief.
She wore the same tiny shorts she’d arrived in and a strappy T-shirt, complete with a pair of vivid pink socks. A pair of fake designer sunglasses sat jauntily atop her head.
“What’s wrong?” She stared back, thinking that everyone else seemed overdressed. Then she dismissed the thought, raring to go. Well, not entirely, but she wasn’t going to admit to Jago that she couldn’t do it. He wanted to see her fail, but she’d show him, she thought stubbornly.
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Nothing at all.”
They left Tyrian and crossed the road, heading straight onto the moors. The sun was high—a huge yellow orb against a canvas of baby blue—its rays stroking the ground below.
Riley’s face burned a sheer sheet of scarlet.
She struggled to keep up, wishing she didn’t have to carry the backpack. She was envious of how easily Jago strode ahead. In fact, he was so far in front she almost couldn’t make him out.
“Ouch,” she cried for what had to be the hundredth time. The long yellow reeds slapped with a snap of a sting against her bare legs, leaving a crisscross of narrow red welts. Too late she realized that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to wear shorts after all. She cursed at the gorse bushes bullying her skin, the thorns digging in and leaving a ragged trail of blood in their wake.
They were now in two distinct groups—Jago and the couple ahead, herself and plump son whose name was Colin lumbering behind.
“This is supposed to be a bonding day for us,” he muttered, struggling through a boggy patch. “Mother’s idea.”
Riley closed her eyes, her feet sinking. She squelched through the sticky mire, grimacing as the mud sucked at her legs. Her pink socks were stained with sludge—dark, thick, and rancid. She wrinkled her nose at the stench and glared after Jago in the distance.
“Could think of better ways to bond than this,” she muttered. And wondered privately if Colin’s mother was after Jago.
“How much farther?” panted Colin.
Riley checked him out and decided he was beginning to look even redder than she felt.
“God knows! Just be glad when we can stop,” groaned Riley, struggling to keep going.
She tripped over a clinging tendril and fell heavily, the sharp stones slicing through her knee. “Shit, that hurt!” She attempted to struggle to her feet, but the weight of the pack held her down. “Hey, Colin, don’t just stand there. Can you give me a hand?” She was pretty pissed off that he made no effort to help her.
Eventually getting to her knees, she saw the others sitting down in the distance. Even from here she could feel Jago’s mocking gaze as she limped towards them. Your turn will come, she swore. Riley dreamed of a variety
of tortures she intended inflicting on him.
* * *
Jago watched her stagger up the incline. Looking at the mess she was in, he actually felt sorry for her. But he was determined not to show concern at her mud-splattered appearance or the bloodied cuts and grazes.
“Oh God, I’m starving.” She flopped down onto the grass and fought with her rucksack, unable to get out of it. It clung steadfastly to her body like a second skin.
“Come here,” said Jago, his voice gruff. He pulled at the straps, trying not to touch her. Lifting it off, he was shocked at the weight.
“Riley, what the hell have you got in here altogether?” He was amazed that she’d managed to walk as far as she had.
Opening it up, he stared in astonishment at the assortment of food, drink, and tins. He reckoned it contained most of the contents of the kitchen cupboard.
“Woman, you’re crazy,” he said when he could finally speak. Finally, all patience spent, he snapped, “How many days did you think we were going for?”
“Well, I didn’t want to get hungry.” Ignoring him, she dug into her stash, sharing a bar of chocolate with Colin.
He shook his head in despair. She was absolutely unbelievable.
As they readied to move on, Jago took half the contents and put them in his own rucksack. He couldn’t see her staggering over the beacons carrying that weight. Christ, he thought angrily, even the SAS carried less than that.
“Let’s get going,” he said. “That’s where we’re headed.” He pointed at the mountain looming in front of them.
Riley stared at it in shock, then at him, her mouth moving but not connecting with her brain. “We’re going to walk up that?” she finally managed to sputter.
“Yes.” Jago grinned and started up the steep incline that would take them to the top. And for once he’d had the last word.
* * *
Riley’s eyes watered, her legs burned, and she ached in every part of her body. But she wouldn’t give in. Pausing and gasping in the cool air, she looked back down at Colin, who’d wisely decided to wait at the bottom. She’d left him happily munching on a bar of chocolate—his second, she noted. She was keeping count.
