“Indeed.” He ran his finger around his collar and then tugged at his tie. His cheeks were red and she hoped his blood pressure wasn’t going stratospheric. “I’m going to take a shower before dinner.”
“Yes, you do that. Cool down and put something comfy on so you can relax for the rest of the day.”
“Is your mother here?”
“No, she’s playing bridge with the ladies from the golf club.”
“Oh yes, of course.” He frowned. “I forgot it’s their tournament this week.”
Carmel smiled. “She’s enjoying it and doing quite well.”
“Clever thing.” He gestured to the tennis court. “Those guys turn up again?”
“Yes, they’ve been working hard all day. Only just gone.”
“Looks like they made good progress.” He nodded. “Have to say I’m surprised.”
“Why?”
“Well, you know.” He stepped away. “Always a risk when you decide to give an unknown a bit of business.”
“They can’t go too wrong with a hedge though.” Why did she feel defensive on Harper’s behalf? It wasn’t as if it was anything to do with her.
“Not the hedge, letting them onto my property. Got a lot of valuables here.”
“So why did you?”
“I’m not a complete cynic yet. Getting there, but not beyond offering work to someone who clearly needs a few pounds in his pocket.” He walked across the patio, under the red canopy and towards the kitchen.
Carmel bit on her lip. She had no doubt that Harper wasn’t rich in money, but he was sure as hell rich in sex appeal, in freedom and in bad boy charm.
Bad boy. She huffed and shook her head. For all she knew he was a law abiding citizen. Just because he spoke with a knicker-wetting accent and had tattoos, long hair and an earring didn’t mean he broke the rules. That was crazy thinking and completely prejudiced.
***
After drying off and pulling on a plain white shift dress, Carmel wandered into the kitchen.
Her father was sitting at the huge granite island with the paper in front of him and a tumbler of whiskey at this side.
“Your mother just called,” he said. “She’ll be home within the hour with dinner.”
“Oh okay. I was going to cook.”
“No need. Grab a drink and relax. I’m guessing you’ve had your head in books all day.”
“Yes.” She pulled open the door to the wine fridge.
“How is it going? The dissertation?”
“Okay…getting there.”
“Good.” He dipped his head, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, and studied her. “Because this is it, right? The important stuff.”
“I know. I know.” She smiled to placate him. “And I’m on top of it, but right now I need a glass of bubbly.” Turning back to the fridge she saw they were out of champagne. “But we don’t have any.” She clicked the tongue on the roof of her mouth.
“Surely there’s a bottle or two?”
“No, nothing.” She shut the door. “I’ll go into the village, the shop should still be open. They sell chilled Lanson.”
“Okay, but don’t be long.”
Carmel touched the butterfly hanging from her necklace as she hunted for her car keys. She was terrible for leaving them in a different place every time but eventually found them sat beside a huge vase of pink and lilac peonies in the hallway.
Within minutes she was heading out of their long driveway onto the main road. She could walk into the village, it was only a mile away, but rarely bothered, not when she had a nice new Mercedes convertible.
Bowton was a moderate sized place, that boasted two pubs, a shop and a church complete with village hall. There always seemed to be something going on—Christmas fetes, summer balls, charity runs. It was a good place to live.
As she approached, though, she noticed the field to the right of The Sparrow pub, had been inhabited by caravans. Washing fluttered on lines, several horses were tethered, and half a dozen children kicked a ball about.
Travellers.
So that’s where Harper was staying.
She slowed and peered over the dense hedgerow, wondering if she might spot him. Next to a white van a few guys appeared to be tinkering with engine parts—bare-chested, cigarette smoke pluming from one of them.
No sign of Harper.
Beep! Beep!
She glanced back at the road and swerved quickly, she’d strayed into the middle frightening an oncoming vehicle.
“Shit.” Her heart raced and she gripped the steering wheel. “Concentrate, Carmel.”
There was no way she should be letting their travelling gardener get to her so much. It was not cool.
She crawled past the shop, but there was nowhere to park so she scooted down a side street, knowing there was an alley between two houses she could take a short cut through.
Smiling at a woman she recognised from events at the village hall, Carmel headed into the shop. Perusing the magazine section, looking for this month’s Vogue, she became aware of a presence behind her. It wasn’t a good feeling. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled and her stomach tightened.
“Hey, honey-pie.”
She bristled. Just hearing Cedric’s voice was like scratching her nails down a blackboard. And when he used that irritating pet name for her, it only added insult to her eardrums.
Steeling herself, she turned to face the man who’d cheated on her the summer before. Lied and used her, then finished off their relationship by giving her a black eye she’d had to hide from her parents.
A law suit wasn’t something she’d wanted, ending it had been all that had been on her mind. And she had no doubt about it, her father would have gone for the jugular.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Grabbing a drink at The Sparrow with my mates.”
“You don’t drink there.”
“It’s a free country.” He shrugged and gave a cocky grin.
Damn it, she’d hoped he wouldn’t be heading to Bowton regularly, living ten miles away was too close for comfort, but being in the village often…that didn’t bear thinking about. “I guess.”
“But it’s freer for some people than, others,” he said, stepping closer. “People like you, with an endless supply of money.”
She yanked a magazine from the shelf and lodged it against her chest. “Whatever.” She stepped away, towards the refrigerator. Cedric’s family had plenty of money, but he’d always had a thing about her father being super-rich, like it defined her and meant she had no problems of her own.
How little he knew.
When he followed, a familiar lurch of nausea dragged at Carmel’s belly and a shot of adrenaline hit her system. Cedric wasn’t a nice man and the last thing she wanted was his attention again. How he’d pulled the wool over her eyes for so long she didn’t know and she wasn’t proud of that fact. Just went to show what the right clothes, accent and schooling could hide.
She spotted the champagne and reached for a bottle.
“I see you still have expensive tastes.”
“I like what I like.” And that’s not you. She made a point of not making eye contact with him, or lingering, and walked quickly to the till.
He followed and stood close again, the heat of his arm radiating onto hers. He then set a pack of gum by the till, as though expecting her to pay for it.
“That yours?” the young cashier asked, glancing between them.
“No.” She shook her head and handed over her cash card. “It’s not.”
He smirked, an expression that made what could have been handsome chiselled features hawk-like and mean.
The cheek of him.
The cashier slid the card into the machine and Carmel keyed in her PIN. All the time she was aware of Cedric breathing next to her. What the hell was he doing here? And why was he hassling her? Was it a coincidence, or had he hoped to bump into her? Maybe he’d been hanging around for a while,
biding his time because he knew she was home from university.
Surely not.
Quickly, she pocketed her card and picked up her purchases.
The till beeped as his gum was scanned.
She stepped outside. The sun had slipped from the sky and dusk was stretching shadows over the pavement.
Walking quickly, she made her way to the alley. The sooner she was home the better.
Her footsteps echoed as she walked between the two high walls and she concentrated on getting through it, to the street, as quickly as possible. She’d hoped to never see Cedric again. The memory of him lashing out still woke her at night. And after bumping into him, she was sure the recurrent nightmare would sneak up on her soon.
“Hey, what’s the rush, honey pie?”
She gasped as a rough hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around. “Get off.”
Cedric increased his grip on her. “But I want to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Well that’s tough, because you’re going to.”
“There’s nothing to say. You cheated on me, you hit me. We’re over.”
“Oh, it was just a little misunderstanding, and you’re not seriously going to harp on about battery, that was a bit of fun, I thought you liked it rough.”
“There’s passion and then there’s a right hook, Cedric. And you don’t know the difference.”
“Aw come on.” He swivelled her so her shoulders hit the gritty wall, then loomed close.
Fear bolted through her. Not again. Surely he wouldn’t do it again. She didn’t want another black eye. “What do you want?”
“I need some cash.”
“But…” She frowned. “Ask your parents.”
“Let’s just say it’s to pay a debt they don’t know about.” His gaze slipped to the necklace he’d bought her. “Having that back would be a start.”
“You gave it to me.” She shook her head. Why the hell should she let him take a gift back?
“It was expensive, from a fancy place in London.”
“Well yes, but that’s—”
He slipped one hand around the back of her head and gripped her hair. With the other he held the butterfly hanging on the chain.
He yanked, hard. The necklace snapped. It hurt her neck.
She released the bottle of champagne and it slid down her body. An instant later it smashed on the ground, glass and cold fizzing liquid spreading over her shoes and splashing up her calf. “Ow…”
He grinned and his eyes flashed. “Aww, shame about that.”
“You bastard.” She slammed her fist onto his chest. “You can’t just do that. You can’t take my stuff.”
“Go back in there and buy more champers.” He chuckled. “And ask daddy dearest to buy you another necklace.” His eyes narrowed and he leaned in closer. “And I might be a bastard but you’re a little rich girl who has dirty kinks I could tell the world about.”
“You wouldn’t.” Damn! Why had she acted out a few bondage fantasies with him? They weren’t that horrific, in normal society, but they’d cripple her mother if rumours went around the golf club.
“Wouldn’t, couldn’t.” He cupped her chin and flared his nostrils. “Would, could.”
“You gotta problem here, lovely?” A deep, rasping voice with an Irish accent echoed down the alley.
Chapter Three
Carmel turned.
Harper stood at the entrance to the alley, his outline almost in silhouette with a cigarette dangling from between his lips, the lit end a bright red dot. He wore a black vest and his hair was loose, hanging over his bronzed shoulders. The outer edges of his arms almost touched the walls either side of him.
“No problem,” Cedric said, though he didn’t sound as confident as he had a moment ago.
“I wasn’t fucking asking you.” Harper took several steps into the alley, taking his cigarette from his mouth as he did so.
Carmel gulped. Damn the man was big, and the way he walked, with a confident swagger that looked unstoppable, he really was the definition of a guy you didn’t want to meet in a dark alley.
Except right now, she couldn’t deny she was really bloody glad to see him.
“What’s going on?” he directed at Carmel.
“Cedric was just leaving,” she said.
“Don’t look like it.” Harper swung his dark gaze to Cedric and puffed on his roll up. He then looked at the broken glass on the floor.
“Piss off, this is nothing to do with you,” Cedric said with a huff.
“I’d say a woman gettin’ shit from a bloke is every guy’s business.” Harper shot a stream of smoke out the side of his mouth. It hovered in the air in front of Cedric.
“She’s my girlfriend, this is private.”
“No, I’m not.” Carmel tutted in indignation.
Harper raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly. He then dropped his cigarette onto the ground and ground his boot onto the scarlet end, smearing it into the champagne.
“Get away from me.” Carmel shrugged Cedric’s hand off her shoulder. “And give me my necklace back.”
Suddenly Harper reached out and gripped Cedric’s wrist. “You stole her necklace?”
“Oi, get off, pikey,” Cedric snapped.
Harper squeezed harder and Cedric seemed to crumple. His face contorting as though bones were being broken in his arm and his spine curving.
“What’d you call me?” Harper snarled.
“You’re a fucking pikey, get outta here, you thieving lot aren’t welcome in this area.”
“Don’t call him that,” Carmel said. She wasn’t sure how much of an insult it was to be called a pikey but it certainly didn’t seem pleasant.
Harper appeared to increase the pressure of his hold on Cedric.
“Ah, fuck!” Cedric gasped.
Harper winked at her, a smile tugging his lips.
How can he smile at a time like this?
“You’re calling me a thief?” Harper said, peeling Cedric’s fingers apart, and revealing Carmel’s necklace. “It’s the posh tosser who’s the thief around here, not me.” Harper plucked the butterfly into the air and dangled it near Carmel. “This is yours, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Thank you.” There was a shake in Carmel’s voice as she took it.
Cedric suddenly dropped, quickly, and tried to throw a punch at Harper. But unlike when he’d hit Carmel, this time he didn’t land it.
Instead Harper shoved him up against the wall beside Carmel. Air whooshed from his lungs and the back of his head smashed against the brickwork. “Ah…fuck man.”
Harper leaned into him, his forearm beneath Cedric’s chin and his knee at his groin.
“Argh.” Cedric groaned and gritted his teeth. “Get the hell off me.”
“Not until you apologise to the girl.”
“What for. She’s asking for it, walking around here with fancy stuff and looking like wank fodder.”
“You’re an arsehole, Cedric.” Carmel gripped her broken necklace in her fist.
“How well do you know this eejit?” Harper asked with a quick glance at Carmel.
“We…we dated.” How she hated admitting that, especially to Harper.
“Dated.” Cedric sneered, spittle forming at the corner of his lips. “That might be what you call it, for me it was a few shags with a kinky bitch. “Urgh…”
Harper pressed harder into him, extending Cedric’s neck to the point he had to go onto his toes to keep his head attached to his neck.
“You’ll fucking pay for this,” Cedric gasped. “I’ll make sure you do, I have connections you know. I am a someone, not like you.”
Harper didn’t even seem out of breath, and certainly not concerned about having Cedric pinned up against the wall and threatening him. It was almost as if it were an everyday occurrence.
“I see you picked a bloke with class,” Harper said.
“Wolf in sheep clothing,” Carmel replied. “And a mean
temper to go with it.” She rubbed beneath her right eye, remembering the pain that had lasted weeks after he’d thumped her.
“He hit you?” Harper frowned and combined with the shadows of the alley his expression turned from irritated to downright menacing.
“She…asked for that…as well.” Cedric squirmed.
“Yeah, well, you had no choice then, did ya.” Harper suddenly released Cedric. “But to go ahead and hit her.”
Cedric dropped to the flats of his feet and placed his hand around his neck, as though checking all was still in order. He didn’t appear to even see the punch that hit him in the right side of his face.
It propelled him backwards into the wall, then he staggered several steps to the left, cupping his cheek and bending double. “What the…fuck?”
“Hitting a woman is never okay, arsehole,” Harper said. “And giving one a black eye is unforgiveable.”
“I’ll fucking sue you for this.”
“Yeah, try and find me.” Harper kicked out at him, not with the toe of his boot but the base, shoving Cedric further away, toward the shop end of the alley. “Now get the hell out of my sight before your head parts company with your neck.”
Cedric swung a glare at Carmel. His right eye was already swelling and a slit gaped on the rise of his cheek, a single drop of blood spilling from it.
A bloom of joy at the sight of his marked face filled her chest. Now he knew how she’d felt. He’d look in the mirror for days and weeks to come and be reminded of how it felt to be a victim.
“Does daddy know what rough company his princess is keeping?” Cedric snarled, then spat onto the ground, blood mixed in with the white blob.
“My father will know exactly what you tried tonight,” Carmel said, tipping her chin. “So don’t threaten me or approach me again. I’m not keeping your secrets any more.”
“This eejit won’t hurt you again.” Harper pulled a small roll up from his pocket and balanced it between his lips. “’Cause he’ll have me to deal with if he does.” He flicked open a square silver lighter and touched the flame to the end of his cigarette. The orange glow danced over his face and made his eyes flash.
“We’ll see about that.” Cedric scooted away from them, using the wall for support.
British Bad Boys: A Bad Boy Romance Boxed Set Page 43