‘Totty isn’t a very nice word.’
‘Have you any idea the lengths some of the girls go to so they get an invite? Nobody is going to take a dog.’
‘Poor Mabel.’
He looked at her through lazy, hooded eyes. ‘You’re funny.’
‘I have never ever spent this much money on a dress and pair of shoes.’ She hadn’t, despite being wined and dined in some very exclusive Barcelona nightspots and restaurants. ‘I feel like it’s not me, somebody else.’
‘Well pretend you’re a famous novelist, I’ll introduce you as one.’
‘Don’t you dare. If you tell anybody I’m writing a book I will tell them all about your melodramatics over a bit of smoke.’
‘I’ll do it next year then.’ He gave her a sideways look. ‘I’m sure lots of them will remember you anyway. I did.’
‘I told you, they don’t know me.’
‘Billy does, and I bet you’ve met his daughter, Lottie. Here we go.’
He opened the car door and Flo wondered just how the hell she was supposed to get into the four-by-four in this dress without causing a split that wasn’t supposed to be there.
‘I’ll give you a boost from behind.’
‘You touch my behind, Hugo James, and your days of shagging your way through Cheshire will be well and truly over.’
‘I do not shag my way through Cheshire. Whatever gave you that idea?’
‘You did. Go and get in the driver’s side.’ Flo took a deep breath and decided there was no other way. She launched herself into the large four-by-four with her eyes closed, hoping against hope there was no sound of ripping, and wondering whether she really had lost her marbles when she got dangerously close to landing head first in his groin.
It was breathtaking. The moment they walked from the imposing stone steps into the entrance hall Flo felt like she’d been hit in the gut. The hall was massive, wood-panelled and decked out with the most amazing Christmas decorations, just like the glossies had told her a stately home should be – but she hadn’t dared hope this would live up to, and surpass, her expectations.
The sweet smell of vanilla mingled with the earthy tone of pine cones and warm note of cinnamon so that all her senses were being teased at once. The large staircase was as wide as the cottage living room, and she nearly cricked her neck when she looked up at the high ceiling to examine the chandelier to beat all chandeliers.
‘Can I take your coat?’ She hardly noticed who had asked her as she slipped off her jacket, her gaze taking in her surroundings.
‘You look amazing.’ The whisper in her ear brought her back to her senses, and a rash of goose bumps down her arms. She shrugged her shoulders up in self-defence. ‘Although the hay in your hair rather detracts.’
‘Hay? Get it out!’
‘Kidding.’
She frowned at him.
‘You said not to touch,’ he held both hands up in mock surrender, ‘well I have to get your attention somehow.’
‘Childish.’
‘I can be very grown up if only you’d let me. Here, have some champagne and I’ll introduce you to a few people.’ He rested his hand in the small of her back, the naked small of her back. Oh hell, this dress really was a mistake. From the front it looked rather demure, well the neckline did, although the way it clung to her body like a wetsuit, it wasn’t exactly wallflower wear. But the trouble really started at the back, where it plunged down nearly to her bottom. Leaving any onlookers in no doubt at all about whether her tan was an all-over one or not.
‘Well, well, if it isn’t the Nightingale, who’d have thought you’d be here?’ There was a loud and unmistakable guffaw that took Flo straight back to being a teenager, and she turned round to see the slightly more portly but recognisable figure of Billy Brinkley. ‘Never thought I’d see you two on friendly terms.’ He laughed. ‘Where did you find her, Hugo?’
‘Breaking into my house.’ Hugo put on his best upper-class drawl, which sounded even posher against Billy’s gruff tone.
‘That isn’t fair, I wasn’t…’ She glared at Hugo, completely forgetting to be in awe of her surroundings and he grinned wolfishly back, suggesting he knew exactly what he was doing. He winked.
‘You want to watch him, love. Hasn’t changed a bit from the days when he used to be on my yard distracting the grooms. You did well to ignore him.’
‘Hugo, Hugo!’
He nodded as the excited squeal echoed across the room, as though that proved his point. ‘Bit old for your tastes that one, isn’t she?’
‘Oh shit, it’s bloody Lucinda.’ Hugo rolled his eyes and Billy chuckled as a middle-aged blonde, waving fingers that were weighed down with what just had to be real diamonds, made a beeline for them.
‘This is your bloody fault, Brinkley, it was you who told her I’d give her daughter riding lessons, wasn’t it?’
‘Well I couldn’t be arsed trying to work out how to explain she’d got as much chance of riding internationally as she had of being a page-three girl.’
‘They don’t do that these days, do they?’ Flo frowned.
‘Maybe not, love, but with her flat chest the odds would have been the same if they did. Come on, let’s leave the charmer to wriggle his way out of that one. Lottie will be thrilled to see you.’
‘It’s a set-up.’ Hugo seemed to be looking for an escape route, but Billy had wrapped an arm round her waist and was already steering her away. Flo glanced back at Hugo. He put on a ‘help me’ face that made her grin and shrug her shoulders in a ‘what can I do?’ gesture.
Lottie did seem pleased to see her. ‘You’re not really going out with Hugo, are you?’
Flo laughed. ‘No, who said that?’
‘Well, he just kind of suggested…’
‘I’m staying next door to him, at Daisy’s.’
‘Ahh. I did wonder, I mean you weren’t one of his groupies, were you?’ She didn’t stop for an answer. ‘He is cute though, isn’t he?’
‘Cute?’ Flo glanced across the room at where Hugo was nursing a glass of what looked like whisky. He was nodding in agreement with the man next to him, but seemed to sense the second she was looking his way, and smiled back. Cute wasn’t a word she’d ever associated with him.
Lottie nodded vigorously. ‘Well yes, cute. He’s got this kind of, ‘I want somebody to look after me’ side. It makes you want to cuddle him.’
‘You’re potty, darling.’ Rory, who Flo vaguely remembered, wrapped his arm round Lottie’s waist. ‘He isn’t one of your bloody spaniels.’ He kissed her affectionately. ‘So don’t you ever dare try to cuddle him!’
Lottie giggled and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I’ve got you to do that to. But he is rather dashing as well, isn’t he?’
Rory rolled his eyes. ‘I’m off to find a proper drink and talk about something sensible.’
Flo took a sip of the bubbly and hoped she’d spot some food soon or she’d be too drunk to fend off Mr Dashing. ‘I think he brought me for protection, he said one or two other girls were expecting invites?’
‘Well he does flirt rather, lead them on.’ Lottie grabbed a canapé from a passing tray, and a bottle of champagne. She looked at Flo apologetically as she topped up her glass. ‘Last year he brought two girls, which raised a few eyebrows. Sorry, I didn’t mean, he’s just…’
‘Oh I know what he’s like.’ Flo smiled back and dared to peek over her glass at the man they were talking about. She’d begun to wonder if she did actually know what he was like, if anybody did. He was busy circulating on the other side of the room, but her eyes instantly picked his athletic figure out. And he did, as Lottie had said, look rather dashing. Definitely more dashing than cute.
‘He does seem to have eyes only for you tonight, though.’ Lottie had her head on one side and was watching him carefully, her eyes twinkling with laughter.
‘Sorry?’
She grinned. ‘He’s watching your every move.’
‘He’s not.’ Flo looked
again, shockingly aware of exactly where he was in the room. ‘Well if he is, it’s only because he’s checking I’m okay. I was worried I wouldn’t know anybody.’
The other girl chuckled, a lighter version of Billy’s hearty laugh, then linked her arm through Flo’s. ‘Oh really? Come and meet Xander – now he really is gorgeous. If you don’t remember him I’ll be shocked.’
Flo didn’t recognise Xander, but she could see why Lottie had him down as memorable. ‘Look after Flo and tell her about the first time you got on a horse while I go to the loo – won’t be a minute.’
He leaned in, so that she could hear his soft voice above the excited chatter and music, and he reminded her a bit of her friend Javier in Barcelona. Slightly brooding and serious, but sincere and gentle.
‘Enjoying yourself?’ The soft drawl on her other side brought a smile to her face, and she turned to find herself face to face with a rather serious Hugo.
‘I am. It’s fabulous – thank you so much for bringing me.’ She leaned forward impulsively and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Do you know Xander?’
Hugo nodded. ‘I do. So do you, by the look of things.’
‘You can’t have her back yet, Hugo.’ Lottie had reappeared and very skilfully took Hugo by the elbow. She grinned. ‘Not jealous, are you?’ Then before he had a chance to reply she stepped between him and Flo. ‘Tab wants to talk to you, and she said you absolutely promised you’d dance with her.’
‘But I promised Flo…’
‘She’s having lots of fun without you – go on, shoo, go away.’
Flo found that it was strange to discover just how many people she did know in the village. She supposed she’d assumed that most of them had moved on, like she had, or wouldn’t recognise her, or be too posh. But she’d been wrong. She was whisked from group to group, with introductions made and laughter as they realised who she was and quizzed her about Spain.
She would quite liked to have talked to Hugo, but Lottie seemed intent on ensuring she’d spoken to everybody at the party, and it probably was for the best. She’d not had chance to see Hugo dressed up before, and he really was indecently good looking. Which just had to be bad for her good intentions of not getting involved with anybody.
At every turn somebody seemed to be topping up her glass of bubbly, and she wasn’t sure if it was that or the laughter that was making her feel a bit light-headed. The one thing she was sure of though, was that every time she glanced up, it was to see the reassuring figure of Hugo. Watching her. His gaze hooded, a slight lift to the corner of his mouth.
After chatting to a rather dishy polo player and his wife about the best restaurants in Barcelona, she was shocked to catch sight of the clock and see just how late it was. The evening had whizzed by, she was high on champagne and very little food, and her feet ached from being in high heels for so long. Murmuring an excuse, she dived off to find the washroom and check out if she really was as flushed and giddy as she felt.
‘Dance?’
It was Hugo, catching her as she wandered back into the main hall, wondering if she dared take her shoes off. ‘I’m not sure I can in these shoes.’
‘You can lean against me.’ He quirked an eyebrow.
She did actually want to dance; she loved dancing and it would be somehow liberating after all the talking to strangers, and explaining where she was staying and why.
She thought she’d got used to the feel of his hand on her back, against her skin, but it was different when she was turned to face him, when the hand wasn’t guiding but was drawing her close, even though his touch was ever so light. Tantalisingly light.
His laughing eyes dared her to object, but she didn’t actually want to. ‘Thanks for bringing me.’
Hugo danced like he’d been doing it all his life, which he probably had, she decided. Another social skill that his mother had made sure he had mastered, and something to concentrate on instead of worrying about the effect such close proximity was having on her body.
‘You’re welcome – thank you for coming. Although I had rather hoped to get a dance in earlier, Miss Popular.’
‘Mr Possessive.’
‘And what if I am?’ He took her hand in his spare one, held it between them, his hips moving dangerously close, as his other hand slipped lower down towards her bum. Was it in her dress or outside? She wriggled, then froze when her stomach brushed against what had to be his erection.
‘Can’t you keep your body under control?’
He grinned, dipped his face lower so that his nose was almost touching hers. ‘Impossible when you’re clinging to me.’
‘I’m not clinging.’ Oh blast, she was sounding like she wanted to.
‘I’d like you to be, later?’
‘Hugo,’ his thumb definitely was in her dress. ‘I admit I fancy you.’
‘I know.’ The upper-class drawl played with her mind; he leant in even closer so their foreheads touched. ‘Your nipples are digging into my chest.’ The grin was so naughty, so bad she should slap him.
His lips brushed hers as his hand pressed her closer and his body encouraged her to dance to the music. Dance to his rhythm.
Flo’s lips tingled from that feather-light touch, that brush of his dry mouth against hers and she wanted more. She wanted to taste him again like she had after he’d cooked for her. Wanted to feel his tongue exploring her mouth. She was already damp between her thighs, rocking her body closer to his, even though she knew it was a bad idea.
‘You are beautiful, you know.’ This time his lips settled on her own parted ones, his tongue traced along the tips of her teeth, and when she sighed he took it as acceptance.
His tongue played with hers, demanded a response and she gave it. Letting him in, resting against his firm body and tipping her head back as he explored every bit of her mouth, the fingers of one hand tangled deep in her hair as the other slipped deeper into the v of her dress, one long finger reaching out to stroke the dip at the bottom of her back, right at the bottom of her back so that she wanted to part her legs, invite him in.
Swaying now, incapable of moving her feet because all she wanted to do was taste him, she cupped the side of his face with her hand, closed her eyes, and let the smell and taste block everything out.
He dragged his mouth away and her eyes shot open. She looked at him, feeling drugged. ‘Christ, Flo. I can’t do this.’ He pulled further away, leaving a gap of cold air between them, but his hand was on her waist, his other holding hers. ‘Have you any idea what watching you from the other side of the room all evening has done to me? I’ve never ever fucked anybody on a dance floor, but it is going to happen now if we carry on. Come on, we’re leaving.’
Hugo was out of the car and round to her side before she even had the seatbelt off. He grabbed her. ‘Sorry, can’t wait for you to totter across in those bloody heels.’
‘Are we going to—’
‘Mine’s nearer.’ He was panting as he stumbled towards his front door. ‘Bloody hell, you’re heavier than you look.’ He pushed through, kicking the door shut behind them, then staggered on into the lounge, falling to his knees so that she rolled onto the rug. ‘I’m having you here.’ He was leaning over her, his hair flopping as he kissed her lips and she laughed. ‘Then I’m having you on the kitchen table.’ He put his hands on the shoulders of the dress then roughly pulled it down and kissed her throat, kissed a trail down her chest, took her nipple between his teeth.
That was bad, so bad. The throbbing need between her legs made Flo gasp. ‘I need your clothes off.’ She reached up, didn’t even think about undoing buttons, just ripped the two sides apart as hard as she could. His skin was surprisingly soft, the smattering of hair across his chest teased her fingertips as she traced over his body.
‘Shit, you need to stop that.’ He tried to crush her body with his, but the second he stopped kissing she carried on, tiptoed her fingers down, following the trail of hair that was leading down to his waistband.
Flo undid the
button of his trousers, tugged at the zip, and then lost track of what was happening.
Hugo could stand it no longer. Years of desire was trying to burst out; he pushed his trousers down to his hips, then lifted the thin chiffon of her dress and groaned at the lacy scrap that covered her.
He paused, looked up to see what was in her eyes and when he saw dark-eyed lust that mirrored his own he eased her legs apart and sank between them.
‘Jesus Christ, Flo, I need you.’
‘So, that was interesting.’ Flo turned her head so that she could look into Hugo’s eyes, and grinned. ‘What was that you said? You’ve been waiting nearly twenty years?’
He groaned and wiped a hand over his face. ‘Hell, I didn’t actually say that, did I? It was worth the wait though.’ He rolled onto his side, and started to circle one boob with a finger, spiralling closer and closer until her nipple hardened, and then he moved onto the other one, his face serious as he studied the effect. ‘I’m going to have to do it again, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh you think you are, do you?’ His face stiffened and Flo laughed, then swung her body over his, straddling him. ‘I think it’s time we did it my way, don’t you?’
‘I’ll do it any way you want, darling.’
‘I’m not normally that bossy.’ Flo collapsed onto her back and stretched her arms up, before flopping one over Hugo’s waist.
‘You can be as bossy as you like.’ He reached over, groping for a pack of cigarettes that wasn’t there. He sat up and scoured the room, spotting them, and then returning to her and rearranging them so that he was propped up against the sofa and she was lying across him. He lit the cigarette, drew deeply, then wafted the smoke away.
‘I was never very bossy about anything, actually, until I split with Oli and realised,’ she glanced up to see the reaction to her ex’s name, but he just shrugged and looked down at her, his eyes hooded.
‘Go on, I’m interested to hear about this Oli chap – sounds a bit of a wanker.’
‘He is. But I didn’t realise at the time. You don’t always, do you?’
The Holiday Swap Page 21