Reckless Runaway at the Racecourse (8 page)

     ‘You panicked,’ he said in resigned tones. ‘Why? I wasn’t expecting you to be scared.’

     ‘I don’t like heights,’ Fliss muttered.

     ‘Heights? But it’s only a few feet.’

     ‘I can get scared standing on a chair.’

     ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

     Fliss bit her lip. ‘I thought it would be okay.’

     Luke put an arm round her and gave her a hug. ‘It
is
okay. You don’t have anything to prove. Not to me.’

     She smiled tentatively. ‘Sorry. For being an idiot.’

     Luke was looking down at her in sympathy. As Fliss watched, his expression changed perceptibly. Desire flickered in his eyes and his breath quickened. She waited, letting him take his time to work out what to do next.

     He groaned softly. ‘You kill me, do you know that?’ But since he dragged her close and kissed her thoroughly, Fliss didn’t bother to think of an answer.

     Several minutes later, they were lying entwined in each other’s arms, staring up at the pale blue spring sky in comfortable silence.

     ‘See that cloud?’

     Luke squinted upwards, following the direction of Fliss’s pointing finger. ‘The one over the poplars?’

     ‘Maybe. The tiny one that looks like a rabbit.’

     ‘I think so.’

     ‘See where its tail fades away?’

     He was struggling to follow her. ‘What about it?’

     ‘That’s the colour of your eyes.’ She said it as though it was a profound observation.

     ‘Blue,’ Luke agreed.

     Fliss shook her head. ‘Silver and grey and azure and cornflower. Like an impressionist painting.’

     Luke kissed Fliss’s hair softly. ‘What if you didn’t go back to London today?’

     He had no idea what had made him say it.

     Fliss must have bewitched him somehow. It was the only explanation. But his dad was right, he did need a secretary. And Fliss needed a job. It would only be for six weeks, and then he’d have enough time to find someone permanent.

     She sighed. ‘I only brought one pair of knickers.’

     ‘I do have a washing machine,’ he pointed out. ‘With a delicates cycle.’

     ‘I need to find a job.’ Luke wasn’t at all sure why Fliss was suddenly getting cold feet. Hadn’t she been angling all weekend for an invitation to stay?

     Still he found himself trying to persuade her. ‘There are jobs in Newmarket.’

     Fliss frowned. ‘I don’t know, Luke.’

     ‘I thought you wanted to stay.’ Suddenly it mattered that she did. He needed her to feel the same irresistible compulsion he did. If he was making a fool of himself for this woman, he wasn’t going to be the only one.

     ‘Another night, sure. A week, maybe. But get a job? Move here for good? It’s a bit sudden, isn’t it?’

     Luke turned his head to look at her. ‘I’m not in the market for permanent, Fliss.’

     She sat up and shifted so that she didn’t have to look at him. Her hands were randomly pulling up handfuls of grass. ‘What are you in the market for?’

     ‘A few weeks. Nothing serious. You could help me take my mind off work when I need it.’ A few weeks couldn’t do any harm. Provided he was clear about the ground rules. Work took priority. Always. No matter what.

     ‘I thought you never took your mind off work.’

     ‘Apparently I do when I’m with you.’

     ‘Oh. And that’s a good thing, right?’

     Luke flopped back on to the grass. ‘Sometimes. It’s less than six weeks to the Derby and I’ve gone through every minute of that time in my head more times than I can remember. I know what needs to be done and I need to stay calm.’

     ‘I’ve never lived with a boyfriend before,’ Fliss told him. ‘It scares me.’

     ‘Nothing scares you.’

     She laughed. ‘Riding scares me.’

     ‘Right.’

     ‘And moving in with you scares me.’

     ‘Why?’

     It was her turn to sigh. ‘It’s the way I’ve always been: no commitments, no ties, no responsibilities. It’s how I like it.’

     ‘What are you scared of?’

     She took a deep breath. She’d never admitted this to anyone before. But this was Luke. He didn’t do emotions. He wouldn’t go all soppy on her. ‘I’m scared that I’ll start relying on someone else to be there. And then, one day, they won’t be. It’s better to be independent. That way, if I let myself down, I won’t have anyone else to blame.’

     Luke took hold of her hand and squeezed it. ‘Who let you down, Fliss?’

     ‘No one, really.’

     He didn’t say anything.

     ‘I mean, it was my mum, not me.’

     Another pause.

     ‘For as long as I can remember, she had one man after another. They moved in with us and stayed - sometimes for a few days or weeks. Some for months. One or two for a couple of years. But they all left, eventually.’

     Luke squeezed again. ‘That must have been tough for you.’

     She shrugged. ‘I was used to it. Mostly.’

     Only she hadn’t been, not really. Not when she’d been frying eggs and bacon one Sunday morning for the three of them and her mother had waltzed in to announce that Steve had gone. Steve, who Fliss had secretly started thinking of as her dad, after he’d been around for a year. Steve, who Fliss had hoped was going to marry her mum and adopt her, and make a real little family. Steve, who’d broken her heart and shattered all her illusions when he went without even saying goodbye.

     After that, Fliss had tried to stay detached. She had tried not to care when any of the men took time to get to know her a bit or gave her presents. They would leave one day, she reminded herself. She mustn’t start to rely on them.

     Ironically, after Fliss had left home, her mother had finally settled down. For the last five years she had been living with the same man. Hugo was lovely and kind and had been divorced before. He was wonderful to her mother and had tried his best to welcome Fliss into his family as well. But the memories were still too strong. Fliss didn’t go to visit her mother at Hugo’s house. She arranged meetings on neutral ground - lunch in restaurants, shopping trips, visits to the cinema when Hugo was working late. She knew her mother wished that she would make more effort to get to know Hugo, but Fliss just couldn’t do it.

     She’d made the same rule in her own relationships. She never let herself start to rely on a man. She never trusted that he would stay around for long. So she’d never taken the step of moving in with a guy. She liked the safety of distance.

     ‘A few weeks?’ she checked.

     ‘Until after the Derby. Middle of June. Will you?’

     ‘What would I do with myself?’ Fliss wasn’t prepared to be anyone’s kept woman. ‘Do you know anyone looking for a temporary secretary?’

     ‘Yes.’ Luke grinned. ‘I am.’

     She shook her head firmly. ‘No, you aren’t. You said so. I’m not going to be a charity case, Luke.’

     He took hold of her hands. ‘I lied. I’ve been in need of a new secretary for months. Since my old one left in February. I just haven’t got round to advertising and interviewing and all that. But if you could do it for a few weeks, that would be amazing. Then I’ll have a breathing space to look round for someone more permanent.’

     A few weeks. She could do that. There wasn’t time for her heart to get broken in just a few weeks. Luke had been very clear that he wasn’t looking for anything serious either. They would just enjoy this short time together and then go their separate ways.

     Fliss watched a wisp of cotton wool cloud drift through the sky above them. In the distance there were sounds of horses neighing and birds singing. It was blissful. Just then she couldn’t bear the thought of going back to the city, ever.

     Luke tickled her nose with a blade of grass. Fliss giggled and pushed his hand away.

     ‘Say yes,’ he prompted her, tickling again, this time under her chin.

     ‘Or you’ll torture me into submission?’

     ‘Right. Say it?’

     ‘Oh, fine!’ she retorted in mock exasperation. ‘But only because you made me!’

     Luke rolled on top of her, trapping her body beneath his. ‘Fine.’ He took a moment to gaze at her, releasing one hand while he pushed the tangled hair gently back from her face. He traced the curve of her jaw, then cupped his hand beneath her chin and lifted her face to be kissed.

     They walked slowly back to the house, hand in hand, leading their horses. Fliss had enjoyed watching Luke’s nonchalant attempts to recapture her mount, eventually resorting to sheer bribery with the production of the end of a packet of mints to lure the animal within reach. His expression dared her not to tease but she couldn’t help a little grin.

     ‘I’ll see to these two. Will you let Benjy out and feed the kitten?’

     It seemed so normal. As if this routine had always been part of her life. Fliss kicked off her boots and called for the spaniel to let him out into the garden. She put the kettle on and felt Marshmallow rubbing up against her while she reached for mugs and tea bags. She fitted in this house, and that scared her.

     ‘Only a few weeks,’ she repeated to herself firmly. ‘Not forever.’

     She didn’t have to move back to London at the end of the few weeks, though. Maybe she could go travelling for a while? Backpack around Europe or Australia, working in bars or on farms or wherever she could pick up a temporary job to see her through to the next place.

     She could take the time at Luke’s to plan the first steps of her expedition. Save up for a ticket and look at maps to see where she’d like to go. Make sure her passport was up to date. That would be a good way of making sure she didn’t get too settled in this place, no matter how beguiling it became.

     Luke drove her up to London to get her things from the flat. Fliss insisted she only needed an hour to pack and that he would be much better off in the pub at the end of the street than getting in the way in her tiny bedroom. An hour later he appeared with a bag of chips which she ate while he carried her piles of luggage down to the car. She had warned him that the sports car wouldn’t be big enough so he’d brought the jeep down.

     ‘How many pairs of shoes do you own?’ Luke asked after the third trip down to the street.

     ‘No idea,’ Fliss said. ‘Would you like to count them for me?’

     ‘No. Do you have a decent pair of boots among them?’

     ‘I have several indecent pairs,’ she teased.

     ‘Wellingtons?’

     ‘Sorry.’

     ‘Riding boots?’

     She raised an eyebrow and shook her head.

     ‘You’ll need something,’ Luke insisted. ‘The yard can get pretty mucky and you won’t want to ruin your stilettos.’

     ‘You could mend them for me,’ Fliss pointed out.

     ‘Next time you can mend your own.’ Luke stole a chip on his way past. ‘I think these are the last, by the way. You might want to check your room just in case I missed anything.’

     Fliss did a quick scan, then scrawled a note to her housemate with a forwarding address and phone number. She wrote a cheque for a month’s rent with an extra amount for bills, then stuck both under a vase of dead tulips in the middle of the kitchen table where it couldn’t be missed.

     ‘Ready?’

     ‘Yup.’

     Luke kissed her. ‘Come on then, let’s turn you into a proper country girl.’

     She screwed up her face. ‘Will I have to make jam and wear puffa jackets?’

     He laughed. ‘Only if you want to. Mostly, I’ll need you to field phone calls from disgruntled owners who all think I have nothing better to do but sit and chat about their horses all day.’

     ‘I can do that.’

     He grinned. ‘I’m certain you can. There’s some paperwork, too. And occasionally I’ll need you to provide coffee and biscuits for a meeting.’

     ‘Of course. I can do shorthand and I type at eighty words a minute. I’m experienced in using various kinds of word processing, database and spreadsheet software. Filing, however, is my nemesis.’

     Luke laughed again. ‘I’m sure you’ll manage. I’ve been coping on my own for two months and it’ll be good to have another pair of hands.’

     ‘Though yours is a particularly nice pair of hands,’ she observed, watching them casually and gracefully changing gear and take a corner.

     ‘Thank you,’ he replied gravely. ‘No one’s ever commented on my hands before.’

     ‘Well, they should have. They’re lovely.’ They really were. Long, lean fingers which hinted at their underlying strength. They were the kind of hands that sent a girl’s imagination flying. Clever hands, gentle hands, powerful hands.

     ‘I’m not sure my secretary should be noticing things like that.’