Love on the Menu

by Ellen March

  “Not good enough.” The bat lashed out, demolishing the TV. A huge gaping hole winked from the screen.

  Rob’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m telling you the truth,” he pleaded.

  The youth paused, swept his cold gaze over Rob, then slowly nodded. “We’ll be back. Make sure you get it, or you know what we’ll take,” he threatened.

  Once they left, Rob lit another fag, his fingers shaking; he knew he was in deep shit. And now, it appeared, so was Riley.

  * * *

  Jago was still sleeping when Riley heard her phone ring from her bedroom. She peered down blearily at her watch. Sliding out of bed, she went to answer it, guessing it had to be her brother. No one else rang her.

  Riley sat cross-legged on her bed, her back to the door. She tugged a sheet around her naked shoulders in an effort to ward off the cold morning air.

  “What the heck are you phoning me so early for? What’s wrong?” she whispered impatiently, keeping her voice low. She didn’t want to wake Jago.

  “Why do you want that? No you can’t come here, no way,” she muttered. “Okay, I’ll text my address.” She paused, listening. “Great. I love you too.” She rubbed a hand tiredly across her eyes. “Yeah, I know how much you love me but ….” Another pause. “Okay, ring me later.” She turned and saw Jago standing in the doorway, his face a mask of fury.

  “Who was that?”

  Waking to find her gone, Jago had wondered where she was. Rising from bed, he followed her muted voice. Then he heard her words and felt as if someone had inserted a red hot needle through his heart.

  Riley glared at him, not liking the assumption he appeared to be making. “Why?” she asked stubbornly. She refused to give an inch where Jago was concerned.

  “I think I’m entitled to know who you’re swearing to love after getting me out of my bed, don’t you?” he said quietly. He was trying, and failing, to keep his temper in check.

  “Well, in that case you can keep your damned bed.” She glared at him, eyes flashing.

  “You still haven’t answered me.” His hand slammed against the wall in frustration.

  “And I’m not going to now. So go on, hit me, if that makes you feel better.” She dragged the quilt with her and jumped off the bed. She rounded on him, her own temper rising.

  “Don’t be stupid. Come on, Riley, just tell me,” he ordered.

  She shook her head.

  She was a stubborn bitch, he thought. But he had to know. Casting about for a way to make her open up, he said, “I’ll keep you from riding Farley.” He was willing to employ even the sneakiest tactics.

  Her eyes widened in shock. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me,” he shot back. “If you’ve got nothing to hide, then why the secrecy?”

  She dragged in a long suck of air. “I hate you. You’re nothing but a bully.”

  “I’m waiting,” he said, drumming his fingers impatiently against the door.

  “Rob,” she eventually hissed between clenched teeth, staring down at the floor. Her feet were bare, and she curled her toes uncomfortably.

  “Who’s Rob?” he asked softly. His blood boiled through his veins and the bile rose in his throat.

  “My brother,” she yelled. “Satisfied now?”

  He remembered her mentioning the brother and cursed his temper. “I forgot,” he said inanely.

  “I forgot,” mimicked Riley, her words dripping with sarcasm. “Well, I won’t forget. You’re always so ready to believe the worst about me, aren’t you?”

  Jago couldn’t respond because he knew it was true. He loved her body but hated what she did for a living. Or ‘used to do,’ he amended. Although she apparently had no morals, he knew damn well that he had double standards.

  “Well you can find another bloody dessert, dinner, or whatever you can find to get your teeth into. Because it won’t be me again.” Her eyes narrowed. Tears glazed them, but she wasn’t going to cry. “Just get out!” she screamed.

  Jago paused before turning and slamming the door behind him.

  Riley cried herself to sleep on her bed.

  Alone and angry.

  * * *

  A week had passed. Apart from one-syllable replies, she refused to speak to him.

  With each day of silence, Jago became increasingly frustrated with her stubbornness. He’d been convinced she’d come round, only she hadn’t. She’d simply gone about her chores, seeing to the horses. Getting them ready for the groups that turned up and spending the rest of her time with that damn stallion. He knew things couldn’t go on like this. Something had to give.

  Sooner or later she’d be back in his bed, he swore.

  * * *

  Eve had watched the divide widen with satisfaction, putting any further plans for accidents on hold. She continued with her secret adoration of Jago, never letting him see it, aware that he’d get rid of her if he did. If there was one thing she knew, it was that he was a man of his word. She didn’t doubt he’d replace her, no matter the inconvenience. And so she bided her time. She was determined that he would be hers one day.

  * * *

  Emily sat in the kitchen with her guilty indulgence—a packet of shortbread biscuits.

  “Hi, Em,” said Riley. Beads of sweat gathered on her forehead, and her shirt stuck to her body. “It’s hot out there today—too warm for me.” She slouched into a nearby chair.

  “Why don’t you take a dip in the pool?” Em said. “He’s not around.”

  “Nah, I’m banned since I nearly drowned, and anyway, he’d probably turn up. You know what they say, ‘Think of the devil and he appears.’ ” She slurped her glass of water, crunching noisily on the ice cubes.

  “I never heard that one,” admitted Em, mulling over the words. Riley had some pretty bizarre sayings.

  “Think I’ll go and visit Tom,” Riley said with a wicked gleam in her eye. “He’s got a sheep dip. I could try that. At least I’d cool off.” She bounced to her feet, her decision made.

  “You can’t go doing that. You’ll catch something.”

  Riley shrugged her shoulders, uncaring. “So?”

  She was miserable and missed Jago, but couldn’t give in, much as she wanted to. She’d dug herself into a hole and could see no way out, unless she went back to London. But then I’d just be a boomerang, she thought miserably. In the country to forget one man, and back in London to forget another.

  Except she knew she’d never forget Jago. “See you later,” she said, strolling off to saddle Farley.

  Peeping down at the hastily scribbled map, she steered the stallion over the rough terrain, strewn with rocky boulders. Trotting upwards over the moorland, she hoped she was going in the right direction. A short distance away, a few mountain ponies scattered. They raised their heads quizzically, long manes matted, before lowering them again to munch on the harsh blades of grass.

  The sky was bright blue and cloudless. Halting Farley, Riley gazed at the barren landscape, and the huge mountains towering close by. She enjoyed the peace and solitude, having discovered a strange pleasure in the muted murmur of a few bleating sheep and the creak of her saddle.

  From her perch, the small farmhouse was easily distinguishable, sitting a short distance from the road. Urging Farley on, she headed towards it. The sun was hot on her bare head, and she hoped to God Tom knew somewhere she could cool off.

  Trotting down the short gravel lane, she saw the older man emerge, waving to her. His toothless grin was warm and inviting.

  “Was wondering when you were going to come round,” he said. His watery eyes dropped to the big chestnut. “How’d you get on with that devil?”

  “Who, Farley? Why, he’s a darling.” She patted the stallion’s huge neck and felt the heat and sweat on his coat. Remembering why she’d come in the first place, Riley was pleased that Tom led the conversation.

  “So, to what do I owe this visit?” He squinted up at her.

  Blushing, she played with Farley’s mane, the lon
g strands filtering through her fingers. “Well, I was wondering about that sheep dip.”

  Tom scratched his head in confusion. “What about it?”

  “Well, could I have a swim in it? I’m absolutely roasting and I can’t use the pool up at the house.” The words tumbled out in a rush.

  “Why not?” He scratched his head, still puzzled.

  “Because I can’t swim and nearly drowned, so I’m banned.”

  “You’re not going find much water in that thing this time of year. And what’s there is probably rank and smelly.” He didn’t miss her crestfallen face. “But I think I know of a place you can cool off.”

  “Oh, thank God for that.” She jumped nimbly off Farley, looped the reins over her arms, and looked at Tom expectantly.

  “Come on, lass, put your horse in the shed over there. It’ll cool him down. I’ll show you where you can paddle.”

  A bubbling stream dribbled down the mountain that fed the small pool, the one end dammed with a mass of old stones. They were blanketed with a covering of moss, and the trees hung over the stream, dappling the clear water. It reminded Riley of an oasis, cool and vibrant. Standing at the edge she looked in. It wasn’t deep, and the bottom was flat and smooth. It was perfect. She flashed Tom an excited grin.

  “Oh Tom, this is brilliant!” She tugged her boots off, and dunking a foot in, shivered at the icy chill.

  Tom nodded his head. “Take your time, lass. It’s private here in this glade, and I won’t come looking.” With a broad smile, he added, “You’d probably give me a heart attack.” Still chuckling, he ambled slowly towards the farm.

  Over an hour later, Riley sauntered back, her hair slick, her clothes sticking to her damp body. Casually she swung her underwear in her hand.

  “That was heaven, Tom,” she laughed, feeling refreshed. Then she noticed his focus on what she was carrying. “Oops, sorry! Didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  “I’m not embarrassed, lass. It’s nice to see, and fetches back a lot of memories.” He chuckled to himself. “Are you staying for a cuppa?”

  “Just a quick one then. His lord and master will be home checking his watch. I don’t want to push my luck.”

  * * *

  Jago strode into the kitchen. He’d noticed Farley’s stable empty and wondered where the hell she’d disappeared to now. He was seriously contemplating fitting a tracker to her. It wasn’t safe riding around the beacons unless you knew the area like the back of your hand.

  And she didn’t even know the back of her hand.

  “Where’s she gone this time?” he asked, coming straight to the point. Pulling the fridge door open, he helped himself to an ice-cold juice.

  “To find a sheep dip,” replied Emily, her voice sharp and cold. She didn’t bother looking at him.

  He stopped in his tracks, brows raised, the drink held midway in the air. “She’s what?” Jago was convinced he hadn’t caught her right.

  “You heard. You won’t leave her in your pool, so she’s gone to find one.” She bustled past him.

  “But a sheep dip?” He shook his head. “Where?”

  Without turning, she shot over her shoulder, “Tom’s. Assuming she doesn’t get lost.”

  Jago rolled his eyes. “Great! Well I hope she doesn’t, because I’ve got another party coming in this afternoon.” His smile was smug. “All women, so it should be interesting.”

  Emily scowled at him and carried on with her cleaning. Banging and clanking the dishes and pans, she blatantly ignored him.

  Jago duly noted her obvious hostility. No need to ask whose side she was on, he thought darkly as he strode outside into the bright sunlight.

  He was in the yard when a silver sports car pulled in, music blasting. Jago feasted his eyes on the long, shapely pair of limbs emerging from the driver’s seat. A tall brunette smiled up at him, her face like porcelain, a riot of curls cascading down her back. As she slunk forward, Jago’s eyes skimmed over her short skirt and fitted top, admiring her curves. Now that was what he called a woman!

  Definitely my type, he thought with a lascivious grin.

  “Hi, I’m Felicity, and this is Danielle and Chelsea.” She introduced her companions, and three sets of eyes devoured him.

  “Nice to meet you, ladies.” His bad boy smile shone on all three. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here.”

  Felicity moved forward. “I’m sure we will,” she purred. “I assume you’ll be taking us on our activities? Any extra curricula on the agenda?” She moved in too close, leaving no doubt as to what she wanted.

  “I think that can be arranged.” Jago hoped Riley would come to her senses by then. He intended to use the brunette to make her jealous. And if that didn’t work, well, he’d have fun trying.

  Jago stood by the large window overlooking the yard, waiting for Riley. He was worried about where she’d gotten to, if she was lost. It was early evening and she still hadn’t returned. He was about to get the keys to the land rover when the big horse came into view.

  Chestnut coat glinting from the rays of the setting sun, Farley ambled into the yard. The reins hung loose. Riley was slumped in the saddle, and something bright red dangling along the stallion’s flank caught his eye.

  * * *

  Riley unsaddled Farley and began to wipe him down. Engrossed in her task, she didn’t notice Jago standing at the stable door. His expression quizzical, he glanced at her sodden bra and knickers hanging over the side.

  She placed a kiss on Farley’s muzzle. “You are so handsome, do you realize that? And the only male I can trust.” She continued to work on him. “Bet you fancied those mares today.” His ears flicked back and forth as she kept up her stream of words. “I wonder if you’ve ever had it.” She cocked her head, pausing thoughtfully. “But if not, then don’t go down that route. Trust me, you’re better off staying a virgin.” She dropped to the floor, sitting underneath him, and brushed the dried mud from his stomach, coughing when it sprayed over her.

  Jago closed his eyes. His breath hitched with fear at her precarious position. Silently he watched, his whole body stiff, his fingers clenched the stable door.

  She kept up her conversation with Farley. “Are horses called virgins then, I wonder?” Crawling out from between his legs, she held on to his mane and pulled herself to her feet. “I wish I was a horse. At least then I wouldn’t have any flaming problems,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Have you finished?” Jago’s voice cut through the air, startling her.

  Riley spun round guiltily, trying to remember what she’d said. “What do you want?” She tried not to look at Jago as she fiddled distractedly with the stallion’s mane.

  He glanced pointedly at her underwear, then looked back at her face, colouring bright red. “Any reason these are hanging here … wet?”

  “I’ve been swimming; water’s got a funny knack of doing that.”

  Jago let it go, eager to drop his bombshell, “I’ve got three women in. I’ll need you to tack up in the morning.” He waited to see how she’d react.

  “Really? So you’ve got starters, lunch, and dessert!” Her black glare crashed over him in an angry wave.

  “I never thought of it like that. But guess you’re right.” Jago grinned, and turning, he sauntered away, his hands in his pockets, whistling tunelessly.

  “I hope you get indigestion!” yelled Riley, trying to keep her focus away from that sexy-assed rolling stride that sent shivers down her spine.

  Jago smiled. That was the most she’d said to him in over a week. Things were looking up, he thought, already working out his next plan of action. He was convinced she’d be back in his bed by the end of the following evening.

  * * *

  Eventually Riley reluctantly wandered up to the house. She cringed at the sound of laughter, which spilled out from the conservatory, mixed with Jago’s deep baritone chuckle. Unable to help herself, she peeped in and caught a glimpse of the most stunning woman she’d ever seen in her life.


  The woman was unashamedly devouring Jago with her eyes. Her hand rested on his arm, her bright pink, perfectly manicured nails gleaming in the light.

  And he was lapping it up.

  There was no doubt as to where his thoughts lay or his intentions, she thought, observing the way his arm rested casually behind her.

  * * *

  “Have you seen that sorry excuse for a female?” Riley said angrily to Emily as she stomped into the kitchen. Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm herself, a roll of nausea gripping her stomach. “They’re all over each other.”

  Emily shrugged, not sure what to say. She glanced at Riley’s face and saw that her blue eyes were glazed with tears. They appeared almost navy against her pale face.

  “Well, I’m not staying here to watch that display,” Riley declared. Having made her decision, she raced up to her bedroom. Quickly showering, she was changed and ready to party. Two could play at that game. Touching the stick of gloss to her lips, she puckered them sexily in the mirror.

  She walked back into the kitchen. Her heels clacked on the stone floor, the short skirt moulded to her hips. A low-cut, figure-hugging top completed the ensemble. Her legs looked longer than ever in the high heels she wore.

  “Where are you going?” Emily’s brow was creased with worry. Riley was acting totally out of character.

  The girl gave a brief snatch of a smile. “If Jago asks—that is, if he can manage to drag himself away from that thing—tell him I’m eating out tonight. And it will be a three-course meal.”

  Scooping up her car keys, she let herself out of the front door and walked carefully down the path. She tried without success to ignore the tinkle of female laughter that drifted on the evening air.

  * * *

  Jago glanced up, noticing the security lights flick on, and caught a glimpse of Riley’s departing back. From where he was sitting, she was dressed to kill.

  Quickly he rose. “I’ll be back. Just need to see to something.” Jago rushed into the kitchen where Emily was washing up.

  “Where’s she gone?” His voice was hard and clipped. He already knew he wasn’t going to like the answer.