by Ellen March
“Why not?”
“Thought you didn’t do men, unless of course you’re bi,” said Eve, carefully choosing her words.
“Oh that! Nah, I was teasing you.” She wiped her buttery hands on her jodhpurs, leaving a greasy stain. “And before you start spreading rumours, I’m def not bi, either. I have enough problems as it is being straight.”
“Really?” said Eve with a smile, her eyes cold. Riley’s fate was sealed as far as she was concerned. “You’ve got a strange sense of humour.” She picked up her glass of water and wandered out of the kitchen.
* * *
Riley was walking down the path to the yard at the same time the minibus drove in. Even from outside she could hear the noise emanating from it as a group of youngsters tumbled out, followed by a tall blond man. Judging by his looks, this had to be Steve, already deep in conversation with Jago.
He took a quick look up as she approached and was instantly fixated on her chest. She rolled her eyes in despair. If she had a pound for every time that happened, she thought, she’d be a millionaire.
Jago noticed the man’s obvious interest and his hands balled into fists. The conversation he’d had earlier with Riley still gnawed at him.
“And who do we have here?” asked Steve, moving forward, his attention wholly devoted to her chest.
“Riley,” Jago rasped. “She works here.” He wished she’d go someplace out of sight. The entire group of adolescent youths was silent, all eyes pinned on her. There’d be more than a few wet dreams tonight.
“Nice to meet you,” she smiled, giving Steve her most dazzling grin. He’s not in Jago’s league, she thought with satisfaction. The word ‘pretty’ came to mind, whilst Jago was as rough and rugged as the mountains that surrounded Tyrian. She took his hand, which felt smooth and soft, with none of Jago’s calluses.
“Maybe we can get together for a drink later?” he said.
Riley knew he was only here for a short stay and obviously didn’t believe in wasting time.
“Mmmm,” she agreed without committing, unsure what to say.
“Steve, can you get your lads up to the barn? We need to get started,” Jago smoothly intervened. “And Riley, get six of the horses tacked up.”
She took one look at his face and disappeared into the stables.
Jago watched her go, wishing she wouldn’t insist on wearing such tight jodhpurs. He recalled every sexy contour of her body and couldn’t blame Steve for coming on to her. His main concern was that she would take the man up on his offer. He really didn’t think he could cope with it. He’d either have to sack her or make love to her again. This was a quandary he’d never experienced before. His emotions were all in a spin.
Surprisingly, when he returned, she had all horses ready to go and was suspiciously quiet. Giving her a brief inspection, he took in the unusually grim expression on her face. “So, what’s wrong?” he asked. He stood beside the dappled grey pony, his hand casually resting on its rump.
“Nothing at all.” Her head bent, she inspected the ground and scuffed it with her boot, as if intrigued with the rising dust.
“So why the face?” he pressed. Placing a finger beneath her chin, he lifted it and was surprised to see her eyes rimmed with a drizzle of tears.
“I’m due on. I always get emotional before a period. It’s called hormone imbalance,” she muttered.
“Oh,” said Jago, not expecting that answer. But it was Riley he was talking to now. And one thing was certain: he never ever got what he expected from her.
“They’re coming. Do you want me to lead them out?” she asked. Her throat clenched and her voice was husky. With the back of her hand, she wiped at a solitary tear that had escaped from the corner of her eye and wished she wasn’t so emotional. For some reason Jago’s angry detachment after what happened last night was tearing her to bits. But she couldn’t tell him that; no way was he holding the trump card.
She’d drop sinful crumbs of sugar-sweet desire until he was forced to lick them up. She’d make him develop a taste for her if it killed her.
Jago gave her a brief, soul-searching look. He wanted to say more but the time was wrong. Shaking his head, he went to meet the group.
As he led the party on a well-worn route over the rock-strewn hills to Mynydd Du escarpment, he wished Steve would shut the hell up. The horses picked their way over the rugged ground, wading through the cold, gushing streams. They were manageable this time of year but impassable in the winter.
“So, how long has she been here?” Steve asked. He gripped a handful of mane, showing how uncomfortable he was on horseback.
Jago could see he much preferred the usual paint-balling for a group activity. He must have developed that muscular physique in a heated gym. With a hot coffee bar and plenty of eye candy to look on. An outdoors type he wasn’t, but Jago guessed the pay compensated him for the odd excursion.
“Who?” Jago knew damn well he was talking about Riley but preferred to play dumb.
“The girl. What’s her name again?”
“Riley.” Jago’s fingers were taut and white on the reins. The horse he rode responded to the tension, dancing restlessly beneath his saddle.
“That’s it. Where did you discover her, you lucky sod? I wouldn’t mind working with someone who looks like that.” He sighed, and his smile was dreamy and unfocused. “And those,” he drooled, making an outline of her breasts with one hand, “are to die for.”
Jago ignored him, only too aware that if he opened his mouth it would be to tell Steve to shut the hell up. He was a paying guest so he needed to stay in control.
He noticed one of the riders moving off the path. “Hey! Get back in line. There are shake holes out there. Don’t want my horse disappearing down one.” Personally he didn’t give a toss about the rider.
Steve cricked a brow at him, his scepticism obvious.
“Pits in the surface where the land has subsided into underground caverns,” Jago explained. “There are lots around here, so it pays to be careful.” Casually he glanced up at the weather coming in.
“Do you know if she’s free?” Steve persisted.
“Ask her. She just works for me,” Jago growled, still unable to banish her words from his thoughts.
“Yep, think I will. Come on, Jago. You’ve got to admit she’s got a cracking pair of tits. I couldn’t keep my eyes off them.”
Jago’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. He’d better keep his hands off them, he thought, or he’ll have to answer to me. With a shock he realized that he was acting jealous and possessive—a first for him. And, unfairly, he chose to blame Riley.
* * *
Riley felt her mobile vibrate. Levering it out of her pocket, she checked the number and saw it was her brother Rob.
“Hi, sis, how are you keeping?” said the familiar voice.
She perched on the top rustic bar of the paddock and said, “Great, couldn’t be better” with too much enthusiasm. “Everything okay with you?”
“Yeah, fine. Thought I’d give you a quick buzz, make sure you haven’t been sacked yet.” He laughed, swigging out of a can of lager. He lay on the settee, oblivious to the stale smell of the overflowing ashtray that filled the room.
“Not yet,” she replied with a smile. But it probably wouldn’t be much longer, she thought, if Jago’s dark mood persisted.
“So, come on … what’s it like?” he pressed.
“Rural, lonely, and I love it,” she breathed, realizing with a sudden start that it was the truth. She hadn’t been in this place long, but long enough to lose her heart to it.
And to Jago.
Too late, she realized she was falling for the man. Whether it was the fact that he’d relieved her of her virginity or just that his body was so addictive, she couldn’t decide. That sexy-assed walk he did smashed her to pieces.
But either way, wherever he was, she definitely wanted to be there too.
“If it’s that good, I’ll have to come and visit.”
“Whoa, not yet,” said Riley with a shock of worry. She had enough problems without her brother adding to it.
“Okay, stop the panic. I’m only joking.” He lit another cigarette. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. Catch you soon, sis. Luv ya!” The phone clicked off.
“Love you too,” she said quietly to the silence. She slid the phone back into her pocket just as the riders came into view.
* * *
Jago studied her from the corner of his eye as they unsaddled the horses and took them into the stables. He hadn’t spoken to her, unsure of his feelings or what to say. But he knew for a fact that if he heard one more sexual comment about Riley he’d knock Steve out cold.
He was about to walk up to the barn with Steve to discuss the afternoon’s activities when she trailed after them.
“Okay if I take Farley out?” she asked, trying to avert her gaze from either of them. Dropping her eyes down, she pretended to be fascinated by an ant crawling along the floor. It was safer than looking at Steve, who couldn’t keep his eyes off her chest. Or Jago, who for some unknown reason was a mass of seething hostility.
“Guess so, as long as you’ve sorted the rest out,” he replied curtly, barely sparing her a glance.
When the men’s backs were turned, Riley gave him a silent two-fingered salute. She resisted the urge to poke her tongue out. Cantankerous sod, she thought as she ambled over to the stable.
“At least you love me, baby,” she cooed at the large stallion nuzzling her. She quickly slipped the bridle on and put the numnah in place, followed by the saddle.
“Hey, steady, lad,” she soothed at his unusual behaviour. His tail was twitching, and his ears were flat to his head. That display was usually reserved for Jago.
She gave the horse a mint, and he settled down and allowed her to lead him outside. Slipping her foot into the stirrup, she landed nimbly on the saddle. But before she managed to get the other foot in, he exploded with a screaming whinny.
* * *
Jago was about to enter the barn, deep in conversation—thankfully not about Riley—when he heard Farley. Spinning around, he saw him rear up, bucking wildly.
He took off at a run towards them, praying he’d get there in time to catch the reins and calm the stallion. Riley’s body slipped to the side in slow motion and she tumbled to the concrete, hitting the ground heavily. Farley continued his tirade, his giant hooves slamming down close to her limp body.
Jago sprinted towards her, his heart pounding. He couldn’t breathe; a fist gripped his intestines, twisting them tightly. All he could think of was Riley, lying on the ground like a broken doll. Farley reared again, his hooves smashing down inches away from her.
He reached out with a trembling arm, swearing he’d put a bullet in the crazy animal, but first he needed to get him away from Riley. Her safety was paramount. “Easy, boy, easy!” His voice was hoarse. He managed to get hold of the reins and calm him. He glanced at Riley, who hadn’t moved. He hoped she wasn’t badly injured. He took the horse and quickly led him into his stable.
Steve was kneeling beside her when he returned.
“Get the hell away from her!”
Taking one look at Jago’s white face, Steve discreetly stood back.
Jago knelt beside her, gently touching her forehead and checking for any obvious injuries. “Riley, Riley honey, are you okay?” He wished she’d come to. Then he spotted the trickle of blood on the floor, bright red and sticky. “Oh, dear God!” he groaned. He lifted her head and checked out the small cut on the back.
“Is she going to be all right?” asked Steve from over his shoulder.
“How the hell do I know? Do I look like a bloody doctor?” His heart still rapped erratically, and he felt a wave of nausea. Stroking her cheek with the back of his hand, he trembled. She felt so cold.
“Jago?” she muttered, trying to work out what the hell had happened. She struggled to sit up. One minute she was on Farley. The next she was sweeping the concrete floor with her head.
“Shh, I’ve got you.” His hands moved intimately over her body, checking for damage.
Peering up at his face, she saw the worry etched on it. His eyes were bright and glazed. Had the men been drinking? “Why, what happened?” she asked in confusion, trying to focus. She was puzzled as to why he was all over her. She raised a hand to her head. It felt like a hammer was inside, trying to break out.
“That damn horse. I’m telling you, he’s being put down,” he growled.
“No,” she groaned, unable to shout. “There’s something wrong. I know it.”
“Yes, he should have been destroyed a long time ago. I told you he’s unpredictable. All stallions are, but Farley’s dangerous. You’re not to go near him again. You hear me?”
Riley shook her head. Crystal tears scalded her eyes, before escaping and shimmying down her white cheeks. “Please, don’t do it,” she sobbed, clutching his arm in desperation. “I’ll buy him off you. But don’t destroy him, Jago. Please, I’m begging you,” she cried brokenly.
“For Christ’s sake! He nearly killed you.” He scrubbed a quivering hand through his hair.
Riley shook her head. “No, there was something wrong when I put the saddle on, but I didn’t pay attention.” She attempted to get to her feet. “I’ve got to see him!”
Jago held her close to him, and his arm slipped around her slim waist. She leant against him, grateful for his support as the world tilted.
“Please, Jago, check his saddle. Just this once, listen to me?” she whispered, clasping his arm with so firm a grip that her knuckles turned white. She looked pleadingly up at him.
Pausing, he stared down at her blue eyes blazing intensely from her pale face and nodded curtly. He sat her down on a nearby bench and shot a seething glare at Steve, who made himself available, sitting next to her.
Undoing the girth, he slid the saddle off and checked the underside. Nothing was apparent. She was clutching at straws.
Then he pulled at the numnah, and the stallion whinnied fretfully. Turning it over, Jago saw a glint of light. A small needle was inserted there. Touching the horse’s back, he stared down at his fingers, smeared with a faint tinge of blood.
Someone, somewhere, had wanted Riley to suffer a serious accident. And he intended to find out who.
Chapter Eleven
Emily slapped her hands over her mouth in horror as Jago carried Riley into the house.
“Oh my goodness, what’s happened?” she cried at the sight of the girl lying in Jago’s arms, her face ashen, almost ghostly white, her eyes closed, her head nestled trustingly against his chest.
“She had a fall,” Jago explained. “Nothing serious.” He deliberately played down Riley’s injuries, not wanting to worry Emily. “Some people will do anything to get an afternoon off work,” he added, attempting to inject a trace of humour into the situation.
“Yeah, whatever,” mumbled Riley.
“Shut up.” His words were tempered with a smile.
“Is there anything I can do?” asked Emily, her fingers worriedly screwing her apron into tight knots.
“I’ll take her up to bed, but can you fetch some tablets? I think she’ll need them. She’ll probably have a blinding headache.” He was glad the small cut had stopped bleeding. He put it down to the heat and the fact that it was a graze rather than a deep gash that needed stitches.
Pushing the door open, he laid her gently on her bed. He then looked around her room, which resembled a disaster area. Clothes were strewn all over the place, shoes scattered across the floor. Only one bag appeared to be undisturbed, standing unobtrusively in the corner.
“What the hell’s happened in here?” he said, speaking his thoughts aloud.
“I unpacked, why?” she moaned, holding her head. She wished for once he’d stop having a go at her. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. God, he was infuriating, even if he was wickedly skilful in bed. She fully intended on going back for more.
“Nothing,” he said at her grimace. “Are you sure you’ll be all right now?” He hovered over her, anxious and unsure what to do.
“Fine. Nothing a short sleep won’t sort out.” Her deep blue eyes were suspiciously bright, probing. “You won’t do anything to Farley, will you?” She was desperate for clarification. She couldn’t bear it if Jago had him destroyed.
He sighed, shaking his head. “No, the stallion is safe—for the moment, at least. But I’d like to know how the hell a needle got into that throw.”
“A what?”
“Never mind. You just rest.”
“Thank you, Jago,” she whispered, her eyelids already drooping.
His hand automatically came up to stroke her forehead, but he withdrew it quickly when Emily bustled in. “Here you are, love,” she cooed. “Take two of these.” She passed the tablets over to the girl, along with a glass of water.
“Do you think it’s wise to leave her sleep? She hasn’t got a concussion, has she?” asked Emily, her hands constantly fretting with her small apron.
“No. She hasn’t been sick, and the cut’s stopped bleeding. I’ll keep popping back to keep an eye on her,” he added. He wouldn’t be going far. The group’s kayaking could go ahead without him this afternoon.
Pulling the sheet up over her, he left her to sleep, and trod thoughtfully down the stairs. He was still trying to work out how the needle had got there.
“What’s happened?” asked Eve, coming out of her office with a look of surprise pasted on her face.
“Riley was thrown off her horse,” supplied Emily. “But thank the Lord she’s going to be fine.”
“Really?” Eve tried to keep the disappointment from her voice. The worry on Jago’s taut face was evident.
“I’m in this afternoon, so let’s make it productive and get the accounts done,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly. “I’ll go over and see Steve. I’m sure they can manage themselves.”
However, Steve was less than accommodating, arguing that the two days of pay included his services along with the activities. Jago would have to give in and take them out.
Before leaving, he checked in on Riley, relieved to see her sleeping soundly. He chuckled at her little grunts and snores. He’d have to tease her about them at some stage. Then he quietly closed the door.
