Sommersgate House (49 page)

“As ready as
I’ll ever be,” she grumbled, reaching out as he taught her and
taking the reins and the pommel, putting her left foot in the
stirrup.

She was
pleased she’d heaved herself up to straighten her leg but it all
fell apart somehow and she began to fall backward. She didn’t go
down as Douglas’s hand found her bottom and gave her a firm push.
She ignored the hot imprint his hand left like a brand on her
behind, swung her leg over and forced her foot in the opposite
stirrup.

He continued
instructing her as he walked her and the horse around in circles,
his hand on the horse’s halter. She never took her hands off the
pommel but did as he said in every other way. When he suggested she
take her hands from the saddlehorn, she tried it but immediately
felt herself sliding off so she grabbed on again.

“You have to
use your legs,” he noted.

“You’ve told
me that already, like ten times,” Julia muttered.

“Then do it,”
Douglas suggested good-naturedly.

She tossed him
an irritated glance. “If I could, don’t you think I would?”

“Julia, I know
your legs are far stronger than that.” His voice was full of warm
familiarity and humour both of which played pleasant havoc with her
insides.

Nevertheless,
she wanted to clobber him.

She tried
harder, did better and he stepped away, allowing her free reign,
calling instructions to her. She was actually doing it and was
rather pleased with herself when she led the horse in a wide, slow
circle then back to Douglas where she successfully pulled the beast
to a halt.

“Well done,”
Douglas complimented her, his eyes shining with admiration, like
she’d just won Ascot.

“
Don’t
look at me like that. It’s more the horse than me.” She didn’t like
the way his compliment made her feel, all tingly and happy. Well,
she
did
like it; she
just didn’t want to dwell on it. “I can’t imagine why someone would
do this of their own volition. I’d rather pet him and feed him
apples than ride him.” She finished, leaning forward and running
her hand down the horse’s neck.

“Take your
feet out of the stirrups,” Douglas commanded unexpectedly.

She lurched up
and the horse danced sideways at her sudden movement.

The children
had wandered further away, Lizzie riding expertly in a gentle
gallop while Willie and Ruby were doing a sedate saunter.

“Julia, take
your feet out.” He was using that tone that brooked no argument and
was standing so close to the side of the horse that she felt his
heat through her calf. She was certain he would take her foot out
himself if she didn’t do as he said.

She did as he
said.

No sooner had
she done it, than he grabbed the saddlehorn in front of her, put
his foot in the stirrup, and, in one lithe movement, mounted the
horse behind her. Both he and she in the saddle pushed her straight
up the pommel as he put his other boot in the stirrup.

He
reached around her and grabbed the reins from her unfeeling
hands.

“
What
are you doing? This horse is going to collapse under the weight of
us. This is cruelty to animals!” she cried, somewhat hysterically,
wanting off, wanting to escape, wanting his lean body
not
to be pressing against hers
from her bottom to her shoulder blades.

“Swing your
leg to the side and straddle the pommel,” he ordered.

“
What?
” she
screeched then went on, “No…” Then she realised if she did, she
might be able just to hop off so she changed her mind and agreed
immediately, “Okay.” She swung her right leg to the side so she was
straddling the saddlehorn sideways just as he commanded but one of
his arms slid around her waist and tightened before she could slide
off.

Foiled,
she
thought.

“I’ll show you
why people like to ride,” he said, his voice low and husky in her
ear.

She was
staring intently at the ground and therefore saw his leg tighten on
the side of the horse and they bolted forward. She yelped, twisted
her torso and wrapped her arms around him. As they galloped, with
each beat of the horses hooves, she slid closer to Douglas.

“Are you
insane?” she shouted over the wind rushing in her ears.

He
subtly moved the rei
ns
and the horse turned gracefully to the left and she held on
tighter. She was face to face with his muscular neck, which was a
part of him she especially liked (not that there were parts of him
she didn’t like). To avoid it, she forced herself to face forward
and grab the horse’s mane. She tried to be gentle but she knew she
was holding on for dear life.

And
then, moments later, it swept over her. The realisation that
Douglas knew exactly what he was doing and that the horse knew too.
Horse and rider were in perfect synchronisation. She felt herself
and her fingers relax and began to enjoy it. It was a risk but the
risk was so thrilling and they weren’t going too fast, they weren’t
out-of-control, they were safe.

Julia was
safe, with Douglas.

Once she
relaxed against his body, she understood exactly why he loved to be
out on the horse, the wind, the crisp air, the speed, the strong
beast between his legs, completely at his command, it was
everything that was Douglas. And she began to love it too.

He was
rounding Sommersgate and when they were within sight of the stables
again, he slowed the horse to a canter then down to a roping
amble.

“That wasn’t
so bad was it?” His voice, again at her ear, asked quietly.

“I suppose
not.” She knew she sounded surly but her guard was down, he was all
around her, she could smell…

Her body
tensed.

She could
smell the Lalique cologne.

She closed her
eyes and sighed.

“I’ll buy you
a horse.” Douglas was either ignoring or oblivious to her warring
emotions.

His words
snapped her out of it.

“You will
not!”

One of his
hands captured her wrist and fiddled with the diamond watch, a
watch the like that no one should wear for a simple stroll in the
countryside.

She stifled a
groan.

“You like it
when I buy you things,” he murmured.

She wished she
could move her head so he wasn’t speaking in her ear. His voice
seemed to rumble through her like a shudder.

“I do not,”
she retorted sharply, lying through her teeth.

His stubbled
cheek slid across hers to move her hair out of the way. They were
nearing the stables now and she was glad of it. His rough cheek was
pressed against her smooth one and it felt nice, too nice.

“You love it,”
he whispered.

“
You are
truly
the
most
irritating man I’ve ever met,” she snapped in order to cover the
fact that he was absolutely right. He knew it and, worse, she knew
it.

He chuckled,
the sound so close to her, she felt it in the pit of her belly.

The children
were already back to the stables and were dismounting. Douglas
pulled his horse to a halt and quickly swung his leg off so he was
down before she could jump down. He grabbed her waist and she knew
she could not protest in front of the children as he slid her
slowly off the horse, the entire way down just inches from his
body. It was enough to be meaningful sexually but not explicit, for
the children.

She was back
to wanting to clobber him.

That or throw
her arms around his neck and promise to marry him.

“Irritating,”
she grouched because it was the only thing she could do.

She was
imprisoned between his body and the horse. He lifted her face by
placing the side of his gloved fist under her chin. If he was going
to say something, it was lost as the children interrupted.

“Now you can
come riding with us!” Willie called, having helped Ruby down.

She
pulled her chin from Douglas’s hand and sidled sideways, away from
him
and
his damned
horse.

“Great!” she
shouted back to Willie, trying to sound more enthusiastic than she
was.

Ruby ran
toward her. “You and me need horses!”

She took her
niece’s hand and without a backward glance, started leading her to
the house.

“We’re a
little ways off from that, Ruby-girl,” she said loud enough for
Douglas to hear and she knew he heard because she could hear his
chuckle.

It took every
bit of willpower she had not to turn back and, at the very least,
poke her tongue out at him.

Instead, she
set her shoulders, mentally shook off the warmth that had stolen
into her body, ignoring the ice that she knew was melting from
around her heart and headed resolutely to the house.

She still had
the scent of his cologne in her nostrils and she knew she was
losing ground fast.

In fact,
she knew she was just plain
losing.

The problem
was, it felt like winning.

* * * * *

Douglas was
not happy.

In fact, he
was angry.

Not at his
stubborn, pig-headed bride-to-be or at least not because she was
stubborn and pig-headed. That, he found, was actually a rather
endearing trait of hers.

True, he
would have preferred Julia to be spending her time choosing flower
arrangements, drafting wedding invitations and spending long nights
squirming under him as he did all of the delicious things he fully
intended to do to her. Not spending her time engaging in a
head-to-head battle with him for her body, heart and soul. However,
he was enjoying the battle, mainly because he knew he was winning
and the interim was just sweet anticipation. Anticipation that
caused a slow ache that he knew would be magnificently fulfilled
once he eventually triumphed.

No, he
was angry because of the unknown
Tony
.

And he was
further annoyed because of his mother. He’d just put down the phone
from talking to her.

She wanted to
come home to Sommersgate.

Now
was most
definitely not the time for Monique’s return.

In fact,
Douglas had decided, there was never going to be a time for Monique
to return.

Unfortunately,
when he told this to his mother and, considering the frequency he,
Julia and the children needed the Kensington house, informed her as
well that she would need to find elsewhere to live, Monique had
flown into a rage.

He listened to
her tirade without reaction and then said, “Sam will find a few
flats for you to look at in London, choose one.”

“
A flat?
You want
me to live in
a flat?
” she
snapped, acting as if he told her he’d find her a nice cardboard
box on a relatively safe street corner.

Douglas didn’t
answer.

“
Am I to
have any say on this
flat?
”
she seethed.

“If you have
requirements, call Sam tomorrow morning.”

He was
finished with the conversation and although she spluttered and
raged for several more minutes, he eventually finished the call.
Monique, being Monique, would not take his actions without a fight
but whatever she did, he knew he could handle.

However, he
had bigger things to worry about because, tonight, Julia was out
with Tony.

Tony,
apparently, was a friend from Indianapolis who was in Bristol for
some business.

Tony,
apparently, was a beloved acquaintance that had Julia in throes of
ecstasy at seeing again.

Tony,
definitely, was a man.

It was nearly
ten and Julia had left the house at five to meet Tony (the man) for
drinks and dinner. Carter had taken her and she was to call when
she wanted to come home. The children were all in bed and Douglas
felt that any responsible guardian should have long since returned,
preferably around six.

Therefore, in
Douglas’s mind, she was late. Very late. Even unforgivably
late.

He was just
about to go find Carter, ask where she was and bring her home,
kicking and screaming if he had to, when the man himself knocked on
the study door.

“Sir?” Carter
called.

Douglas’s head
came up.

“Miss Julia
phoned, she’s ready to come home. The problem is, the Bentley has a
flat tire. It’ll be awhile to fix so I wondered if I could use the
–”

Instantly,
Douglas surged to his feet and stated, “I’ll get her.”

He grabbed his
keys, Carter explained that she was at the South American
restaurant that Douglas introduced her to and she’d be waiting on
the pavement in twenty minutes.

It took all of
his willpower not to speed through the winding roads to Bristol. He
did this because the last thing Julia and the children needed was
for him to crash his car. Further, if he were to crash his car, he
would also miss the opportunity to wring Julia’s neck.

Or make her
pay in a decidedly more pleasurable way.

He parked his
Jag on the double yellow lines outside the restaurant and saw her
immediately, standing out on the pavement as she promised. She was
wearing a pair of her close-fitting jeans, high-heeled boots and a
military-style, cranberry-coloured, velvet jacket. She had a woolly
scarf wrapped round and round her neck and a matching fitted cap
pulled snug on her head, forcing her thick blonde hair to press
lushly around her face.

She also had
her arm linked through the arm of a tall, lean, bald man and she
was leaning into him like she wanted him to absorb her.