Danny’s Secret Desire

by Carter, Polly

  “Even so,” Sara persisted, “how have you not seen any photos on any social media or the papers or posters or… well, anywhere? Why haven’t you Googled him? Where have you been for the last three months?”

  “As I live directly under you and you drop in pretty much daily, I’d say you know where I’ve been - slaving over my keyboard earning a living and trying to write a book, unlike some people who have nothing better to do with their time than watch television.”

  “Well, here. I can show you a photo.” Pulling her phone out of her pocket, Sara started tapping at it.

  “Nope,” Danny shook her head. “Don’t bother. I’m driving and if he’s going to be at Henry’s anyway, I can see him in person then. It’ll be quite soon enough, thanks.”

  Sara shrugged, putting her phone away again.

  “Whatever. So, the book. How’s it coming along? Progress any quicker yet?”

  Danny sighed ruefully. “To be honest, not really.”

  Sara reached over and patted her knee. “Then it doesn’t matter that you’re taking this weekend off, does it?” But seeing her friend’s crestfallen expression she quickly added, “Aw, never mind, Dan. I’m sure you’ll finish it and it will be an immediate best-seller.”

  “Thanks, Sara.” Danny laughed. “I’m not sure you’re right, but I appreciate your vote of confidence.”

  “Have you ever thought that not having had any actual experience of romance yourself might be somewhat of a hindrance to writing about it?” she asked, referring to Danny’s oft expressed desire to be a romance novelist and the book she was currently trying to write.

  “I’ve had romantic experiences!”

  “Yeah, okay, so you went out with that guy, Tom, three times, but it was hardly a flaming passion, was it.” Sara observed dryly, her comment more of a statement than a question. “And apart from him? A few scattered dates here and there in the three years since you moved to London. Nothing to write home about, eh?”

  “I went out with Tom for nearly six months! And maybe I haven’t met the love of my life or anything, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what romance is!”

  As they lapsed into companionable silence, Danny thought about Sara’s last remark. She couldn’t deny the basic truth of it – her twenty-fifth birthday was looming ever closer and she was yet to experience the thrill of a sizzling, unstoppable attraction between her and a man.

  She’d been on dates, of course, and had even surrendered her virginity, but while the handful of sexual encounters she’d had could perhaps, at best, be described as pleasant enough, complete emotional and sensual abandonment was something which she had only heard about and imagined, not felt herself. Even with Tom, with whom she’d had a somewhat lacklustre romance until it faded away through lack of interest.

  She knew what she wanted, but it was a secret. A secret she’d had for a long time. She had no idea where it came from, but it was there, and far too embarrassing to tell anyone about, even her best friend and certainly none of the men she’d dated.

  She wanted a man who would be loving and kind. A man who would cherish her, and care for her as though she were a precious treasure. But a man who would also make firm rules that she would have to obey.

  Not pointless rules, but things which would be in her best interest, like getting her work done, exercising, not overspending, not losing her temper. All kinds of things. It excited her just to think about it, to imagine what such rules might be.

  And just as exciting was contemplating what might be the consequences of breaking the rules. In her imagination, she’d had to stand in the corner for thirty minutes for forgetting to brush her teeth, been sent to bed early for a week after staying out past a designated curfew, had to write fifty lines of ‘I must not lose my temper’, and when a transgression was deemed sufficiently serious having to submit to an over-the-knee spanking.

  She’d never told a soul, not even Sara. How could she possibly explain such an odd thing? Surely Sara would think she were completely mad were she to announce, ‘Oh and I’d like a boyfriend who will spank me for being disobedient or naughty’.

  Danny had never been spanked by her parents or teachers or anyone in real life, so she really had no idea what it would actually be like. And as she would never tell anyone about her secret desire and it seemed too far-fetched to be remotely possible that any man would randomly act out such a fantasy without prompting, she was certain she would grow old and die without ever finding out.

  Sighing, she wondered if she should just resign herself to a permanently single, loveless life or be prepared to settle for something much less than the passion and excitement of her fantasy romance. And maybe Sara was right, she was forced to consider. The characters in the book she was trying to write felt dull and boring even to her, and the romance lacked spark. Could she write good romance when she was incapable of feeling it herself?

  Sara, on the other hand, had no such concerns. She regularly dated exciting, dashing, attractive men, falling madly in love with each one, but a few dates later the passion tended to fizzle out and she moved onto another while managing to keep them all as friends.

  From the corner of her eye, Danny could see her licking her lips, her eyes still closed, and there was no doubt it was not one of her regular consorts that was occupying Sara’s mind. As if she had spoken aloud, Danny heard that name again: Brandon Carlisle.

  “So, how come this Brandon Carlisle guy is going to be at Henry’s anyway?”

  “Oh, turns out he’s William Russell’s – Henry’s BFF – long-lost cousin or something, and Henry told Will to bring him along, and they are all going tonight, so that’s why we had to too.”

  Sara sat forward with a jolt, pointing to a fast-approaching sign.

  “Here, Dan! I think this is the turn-off. Don’t miss it.”

  Danny slowed the car down until they could read the sign – Coddenham.

  “Yes, this is it,” she agreed. “I remember that beautiful cherry tree over there. It was covered in flowers last time.”

  Danny eased the Bentley gently around the corner into a small country lane dotted with cottages and hedgerows. As their destination came ever closer, she wondered again how she’d let Sara talk her into coming this evening, especially considering how uncomfortable she felt around people she didn’t know, people who were ridiculously wealthy, and people who were famous, and together, that described almost the entirety of the people with whom she was about to spend the next two days.

  She glanced over at Sara, who appeared to be completely at ease despite her excitement.

  “Trust Sara!” she thought to herself with a small affectionate shake of her head.

  “So who is going to be here tonight? I’m not really into mixing with strangers. You know that. You’re the party animal.”

  “But there won’t be any strangers, silly! Henry’s practically my brother, and you’ve met Semina. Then there’s me. And you’ve met Will before, haven’t you? And Brandon Carlisle, and he’s famous, so he’s not a stranger.

  “Apart from that there’s just another of Henry’s friends, George, who I haven’t met before, but no one called George could possibly be scary, and someone called Vivienne, I believe, who tags around after Brandon. Probably some kind of PR or minder or something, so she doesn’t count. So you don’t have to worry about strangers.”

  Faced with logic like that, Danny should have felt reassured, but as she turned the Bentley into the drive leading to the beautiful, old, white cottage with its thatched roof dripping with pink and mauve wisteria she remained unconvinced.

  Chapter 2

  “Seven thirty on the dot,” Sara announced checking her watch as they collected the luggage from the boot and headed for the front door. “Well done, Dan. You made really good time.”

  “Welcome, welcome, beautiful ladies,” Henry greeted them, emerging through the front door and holding it open so they could enter. He bent down and hugged Sara as she stood on her toes to reach up to h
im, then turned to give Danny a kiss on the cheek as well. “Hi, Sara. Hi, Danny. It’s lovely to see you. I’m so glad you could make it tonight.”

  “Hello, darling,” Sara said. “Are the others here yet, or are we the first? Here’s a present from us. Where shall I put it?”

  “By the others, I suppose you mean Brandon Carlisle?” Henry chuckled, taking the gift bag Sara was holding out to him. “Thank you, ladies. And, no, he’s not arrived yet, but George is here – I don’t think you’ve met George, have you? He’s in the drawing room; Semina’s just in the kitchen getting us some snacks.”

  “Was,” corrected a sturdy, friendly-faced girl with closely cropped brown hair as she joined them, slipping her arm about his waist and looking adoringly up at him.

  “See that, Danny.” Sara sighed exaggeratedly. “True love! Doesn’t it make you sick? Why should they have all the luck?”

  “I’m sure you’ll meet someone special one day,” Semina laughed at the good-natured ribbing and patted Sara’s arm reassuringly. “Unfortunately for you, though,” she turned to kiss her fiancé, then turned back, “he won’t be as nice as Henry. Will he, darling? Because, bad luck for you girls, I got the best one. Sorry.”

  “I don’t believe you’re at all sorry,” chided Sara, then assumed a nonchalant air. “I suppose I’ll just have to keep my eyes open, won’t I? Who knows? Perhaps I will meet someone this weekend.”

  “She means Brandon Carlisle again,” Danny butted in. “Be prepared to be bored to death; she talked about nothing else for the whole trip.”

  “That’s not true,” Sara defended herself.

  “Oh dear,” Henry and Semina chorused sadly, shaking their heads.

  “What?” demanded Sara.

  “I’m afraid there’s no hope in that direction,” Semina explained. “Brandon is already taken. I gather he’s engaged to Vivienne Blakemore, his publicist who’s coming with him. I haven’t met her, but according to William she’s quite the femme fatale. Us mere mortals wouldn’t stand a chance. I hope you girls won’t be too disappointed.”

  “As I never had the slightest interest in him anyway, I’m not remotely disappointed,” Danny assured her with a good deal of feeling. “I’m far more interested in getting out of these uncomfortable clothes. Sara was in too much of a rush to let me change once she heard who was going to be here.”

  “Well, I’m completely devastated,” moaned Sara draping the back of her hand against her forehead. “The only thing that can possibly save me is a good stiff drink.”

  “Sweetheart, would you like to try and revive Sara while I show Danny to her room,” Henry suggested, taking Danny’s bag from her and holding the gift bag out to Semina. “And, here, these kind ladies have brought us a gift. Will you put it with the others, my darling? Sara, give me your bags and I’ll take them up for you. You’re both in your usual rooms.”

  * * *

  A short time later, clean and refreshed, her clothes unpacked, Danny slipped her long, slim legs into a pair of well-loved black jeans, pulled a pale-green, light woollen jumper over her head, and then stood in front of the full-length mirror brushing her hair until it gleamed in the light. Her thick, unruly curls, now free, tumbled orange, red and blonde down her back in a glorious blaze of colour and bounce.

  For a moment she contemplated her tall, slim reflection in the mirror thinking about her hosts. She envied their obvious devotion to each other and wondered again if she would ever find a man for herself, someone who would look at her the way Henry looked at Semina.

  Sighing, she put thoughts of romance from her mind. That was not why she was here in this beautiful part of the country, and she doubted she would have even thought about it had not Henry and Semina been so obviously deeply in love, and she’d not had to listen to Sara gushing over Brandon Carlisle all the way from London.

  Crossing to the window, she gazed out over the lovely garden. The evening shadows had begun to lengthen across the flowerbeds ablaze with mimosas, primroses and rhododendrons.

  Beyond the gardens were the stables, and as she watched, a man, the factotum Danny presumed, was leading Henry’s horses, Bella and King, in from the paddock to the comfort of their stalls for the night.

  Danny couldn’t see the man clearly, but it didn’t appear to be Forbes, the man she’d met on her previous visits. He must have left. She felt a small stab of disappointment. He’d been a friendly and pleasant man, down-to-earth like Danny herself, and he’d been happy to help her with Bella.

  “I hope the new guy is as nice as Forbes,” Danny thought to herself. “And I guess there’s no time like the present to find out and let him know Henry’s given me permission to take Bella out in the morning.”

  Slipping out the back door to avoid being detained by the others who seemed to be having a lot of fun judging by the music and laughter emanating from the room at the end of the hall, Danny made her way down the path to the stables as the horses disappeared inside.

  “In you go,” she heard a male voice command. She stepped inside where a tall man, quite a bit taller than her she noted, was shutting the stall door behind Bella and opening the adjacent stall for King, Henry’s large black gelding.

  Like her, the man with his back to her and as yet oblivious of her presence was dressed in jeans, and well-fitting jeans, she thought wryly, taking in the hard, lean lines of his thighs and the roundness of his buttocks. Travelling further up his long muscular torso, her eyes noted the smooth curves of his well-developed upper arms exposed by a white, sleeveless T-shirt, the olive skin of his neck, and his short, jet-black hair.

  Unable to take her eyes off him, Danny felt her heart flutter in her chest in recognition of the fact that, at least from behind, she was currently staring at the most attractive man she had ever seen. The flutter became more pronounced as the seconds flashed by, and Danny found her breath had caught in her throat.

  “This is ridiculous,” she told herself crossly. “I can’t possibly be overcome by attraction to a man when I haven’t even seen his face! This is just more idiotic, romantic nonsense.”

  There was one easy way to put an end to this. She needed to see his face. Then she’d see he wasn’t as attractive as she was imagining, her pulse would stop throbbing in her neck making it impossible to breathe and she would stop being so silly.

  “Good evening,” she forced herself to say in a business-like tone. Startled by her voice, he swung around as she prepared herself for a disappointment that never came.

  “Oh,” she inhaled sharply, helplessly conceding that far from dulling the primal response the first sight of him had generated in her, the front view had only inflamed it. She found herself looking into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. In the dim light of the stable, they mirrored the deep blue of the ocean depth, but she imagined on a cloudless sunny day they would lighten to reflect a summer sky.

  To make matters worse, after registering his initial surprise at discovering he wasn’t alone, he had taken the few steps separating them to be standing right in front of her and those magnetic eyes framed by long black lashes and thick, black brows were currently in the process of conducting a minute appraisal of her in a most disconcerting manner. Danny had heard the expression ‘mentally undressed’, but this was the first time she had experienced it first-hand.

  “Um, good evening,” she repeated nervously in an effort to break the tension.

  “Good evening, indeed.” His voice was deep and pure, with a hint of a southern accent. One side of his mouth curved lazily up; his obvious appreciation of her female charms reflected in his eyes as they returned to hers after an over-long stay at her more than ample bust straining against her thin jumper.

  Although Danny normally had an abhorrence of people who lorded themselves over servants and had always approved of the way Henry ensured that people who worked for him felt like part of the family, desperate times called for desperate measures.

  Drawing herself up to her full height, which still left her
feeling quite small as the top of her head barely reached his nose, she assumed her most imperious and haughty expression and swaggered past him to Bella, who was watching them over her stall door. Reaching up, she rubbed her hand under the chestnut’s golden mane ignoring the man who had followed her and, tall enough to see over Bella’s neck, was studying her from the mare’s other side.

  “I’m just here to organise taking Bella out for a ride,” Danny said to break the uncomfortable silence. “Forbes always had my horse ready promptly when I required it; I presume you will do the same.”

  The ‘always’ Danny spoke of was, in reality, ‘twice’, the only times Forbes had actually been present when she’d left for a ride, but she wanted to give this newcomer the impression that she was a frequent visitor to Farthingale Cottage, and one who was waited on during her stays.

  Surprised by a muffled snort, her eyes shot up in time to see something, she wasn’t quite sure what, flash across the man’s face. It passed and the suggestion of a grin which had been hovering around his mouth since he’d first seen her broadened as he lightly touched his head in a sign of deference.

  “Certainly, Madam. I can have her ready for you in a few moments, but I feel I would be neglecting my duty if I didn’t caution you against going out alone in the dark.” His voice dropped suggestively. “I could accompany you.”

  “I didn’t mean now.” His deliberate misunderstanding and subsequent offer had flustered her, and she found herself speaking more sharply than she had intended. Embarrassed further by her apparent rudeness, her cheeks flushed hotly.

  “I meant seven thirty in the morning. Or would that be too early? Eight o’clock, if that is more convenient,” she stammered, silently berating him for having thrown her so off-guard she was behaving quite out of character.