Emerald Mistress

by Lynne Graham

  Fergal rang to tell her that he and Boyce were bringing two missing ponies up the lane.

  ‘Thank goodness…I don’t know how this has happened…’

  ‘It’s freakin’ odd,’ he agreed without hesitation. ‘This pair are so docile they came to find us, so they did. They must have had a fright to run as far as the road.’

  She collected the grey from the orchard, and put him and the placid old stager who had grazed the verge throughout all the excitement back in the field. Neither was injured. She could see nothing wrong with the stout bolt on the gate. From now on as an extra precaution she would tie the gate shut as well. Fergal and Boyce arrived, with her half-brother driving the car very slowly and Fergal on foot with the ponies.

  ‘You look frazzled, sis,’ Boyce remarked. ‘But there’s no harm done.’

  ‘If we get the last two horses back unhurt, I’ll agree with you,’ Harriet sighed. ‘As it is, Rafael is furious.’

  ‘The horses must have stampeded down the lane when they got out.’ Fergal grimaced. ‘I hate breaking bad news. But they’ve cut up the ground round the driveway up to the Court, and the lawns there may be damaged as well.’

  Harriet groaned and winced.

  ‘Who’s Rafael?’ her brother interposed.

  Fergal looked at Harriet. Beneath his scrutiny, which told her that Fergal noticed more that went on around him than he ever let on, she went pink. Digging her hands into her pockets, she contrived a non-committal shrug that implied that Rafael was nobody of any interest. ‘Just a neighbour…’

  ‘Young?’ Boyce prompted.

  ‘-ish…’ Hooves sounded on the lane. The dulled roar of a powerful car engine made her move forward even before the glow of headlights pierced the soft fading colours of dusk that had enveloped the landscape.

  Davis led the last two horses back into the field.

  ‘Are they all right?’ she asked the groom worriedly.

  The driver’s door of the Range Rover opened. Rafael sprang out with the lethal natural grace of a panther. ‘Unhurt, by the devil’s own luck, and you don’t deserve it,’ he told her icily. ‘Those horses have been loose for at least an hour.’

  Boyce emerged into view from behind the hedge. Rafael came to a sudden halt, ebony brows pleating. A full head taller than Boyce, he was as dark and powerful in build as the other man was fair and slight.

  ‘I don’t think you should speak to Harriet like that,’ Boyce told him stiffly.

  ‘Honestly, I’m fine. Not one bit bothered. Plain speaking never hurt anyone that I know of.’ Harriet angled an apologetic glance at Boyce and spoke very fast, in an instinctive attempt to prevent Rafael from saying something cutting and hurtful to her half-sibling. ‘I hadn’t got around to mentioning it yet, but Rafael and I are actually partners in the livery yard.’

  ‘Since when, sis?’ Boyce queried in open astonishment. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why the secrecy?’

  ‘It didn’t seem important.’ Harriet could not meet Boyce’s scrutiny as she told that little white lie. She had concealed her difficulties because she had known that he would be offended that she had not approached him for financial help.

  Having dismissed Davis with thanks, Rafael lounged almost indolently back up against the bonnet of the four-wheel-drive, his relaxation complete. He made no attempt whatsoever to join in the conversation. The blond guy staying with Harriet was not her ex, Luke. As soon as he’d seen the younger man he had realised that local gossip had got the facts wrong—for Harriet’s guest bore no resemblance to the photographs Rafael had seen. In fact it was obvious that her visitor, who shared the same fair skin and fine features, was a relative.

  Unexpectedly Fergal came to Harriet’s rescue by reminding Boyce that his new friends would be waiting for him in the back room at Dooleys.

  ‘Seamus has got hold of a flute for me, and I’m trying a reel or two with the boys tonight,’ her half-brother volunteered. ‘Will you be home in time? I’d like you to come.’

  Tense as she was, she was touched by his desire for her to hear him play, and she watched him depart with Fergal.

  Crazily conscious of Rafael’s unusually silent presence, Harriet threw up her head, but still contrived to avoid his intent gaze. ‘I’ve got nothing else to say about the gate, I’m afraid,’ she stated, with an air of flat finality. ‘When I saw it last it was firmly closed.’

  Rafael strolled fluidly forward, his steps crunching softly on the lush grass of early summer. ‘I don’t give a damn about the gate.’

  Harriet was bewildered by that blunt dismissal of the contentious subject. ‘I’m sorry…I don’t understand…’

  Rafael reached for her clenched fingers and straightening them engulfed her hands in the sure grip of his own. ‘For the past forty-eight hours I’ve believed that you were celebrating a cosy reconciliation with your ex at the cottage.’

  ‘My ex? You mean Luke?’ Harriet was astounded by that statement. ‘My only visitor right now is my brother. Why on earth would you think I had got back together with Luke?’

  ‘Popular report suggested that your guest was a lover. That I believed the story is really your fault.’ Stunning dark golden eyes liquid with teasing censure, he made that declaration smoother than silk.

  It was hard to keep a grip on challenging dialogue with Rafael, Harriet acknowledged inwardly. There he stood, spectacular in terms of sheer dark good looks and raw charisma. He had the advantage of taking her breath away while at the same time saying the most outrageous things.

  ‘It isn’t my fault that you decided to believe some silly rumour about me!’ As the sting of that arrogant assurance sank in, Harriet pulled free of his hold.

  His brilliant gaze narrowed with incisive cool. ‘You called me by his name in bed. That’s rather more substantial than a silly rumour. Next I hear you’re wrapping yourself round some blond guy at the airport and he’s moved in with you. You can’t blame me for adding two and two.’

  ‘I can blame you for a whole host of things!’ Harriet fielded in spirited disagreement. ‘You didn’t trust me. You made no attempt to check out what you were told. You didn’t even give me a chance to defend myself.’

  ‘Why are you making such a great big production out of this?’

  Believe it or not, she was tempted to hurl back, being dumped is really not a fun experience. His glorious indifference to the reality of the hurt he had inflicted with his rejection infuriated her. Indeed, she was shaken by the tide of rage that had come out of nowhere to fire her up to a pitch her even temperament rarely reached. The detachment of his unemotional calm only inflamed her.

  ‘It was a big production for me. But I suppose I should be grateful that you showed your true nature so quickly.’

  An ebony brow elevated. ‘Which means?’

  Harriet flung her copper head back, blue eyes defiant. ‘You let me down.’

  Rafael was incredulous at that accusation, and suddenly anger broke through his rigid self-discipline. No woman had ever accused him of such base behaviour. Men who let women down were cowardly, weak and untrustworthy, and he was proud of the fact that he was none of those things. ‘Where do you get off, saying that to me?’

  ‘I think it’s scary that you didn’t even mention that you’d heard Luke was with me.’ In spite of her attempt to match his cool, her voice shook slightly with the strength of her emotions.

  His strong jawline clenched. ‘It was a misunderstanding.’

  ‘I’m too ordinary for you. You think fantastic dates, flash gifts and the bedroom stuff is all that matters. And, yes, you’re right—all that is terribly exciting. But I would’ve been much more impressed if you had cared enough to ask me who my guest was. That you just ditched me says it all, really. Image was more important. Everything was more important than me or my feelings!’

  Rafael gazed steadily back at her, only the raw glitter of his bright eyes telling her that she was not saying anything that he wished to hear. ‘Whatever happened to your d
esire for a casual fling? That easy come, easy go attitude which you so admired?’

  ‘You happened…you’ve put me right off flings,’ she admitted with unhesitating honesty.

  ‘But I don’t do them…and I want you back.’

  Her strained eyes veiled. She was shaken, for she had not been prepared for that immediate declaration. Violent confusion and uncertainty seized hold of her. When they had been together she had felt amazingly close to him, and wildly happy, but he had turned into the coldest of strangers, retreating behind a wall of reserve where he could not be reached. He had hurt her, and she saw that hurt as a warning slap on the wrist for her own foolishness. ‘I’m not a toy you can chuck in the bin and get back out again when you feel like another game!’

  His expressive mouth twisted, for that was a rather apt description of the usual dealings he had with women. ‘That’s not how I would treat you.’

  ‘I’m sorry…it wouldn’t work.’ Harriet rested troubled blue eyes on him. His gorgeous, dark deep-set eyes held her fast. He seemed totally stunned by the idea that she would not fall back into his hands like a ripe plum.

  Experiencing a horribly inappropriate desire to wrap her arms round him, Harriet clenched her hands by her sides and studied her booted feet with fixed attention. Where had her anger gone? She didn’t know. He hadn’t even apologised. She wasn’t even sure that he knew how to apologise. Perhaps those eager to curry favour with a very rich man had always rescued him from that necessity. Say sorry, she mentally urged him. Say sorry…Say sorry…

  ‘There’s something else you should know about me, a mhilis.’ Rafael regarded her with the ruthless resolve that was the backbone of his character. ‘I don’t retreat from a challenge.’

  ‘I have to go…I need to change before I head down to the pub,’ she mumbled, slowly but surely backing away towards her vehicle.

  ‘Harriet…’

  ‘What?’ Scarcely breathing, she hovered, her entire attention welded to him like top quality industrial glue.

  ‘You’re extraordinary…not ordinary.’

  Pleased pink blossomed in her cheeks. She could feel decent resolution and restraint seeping out of her like water swirling round a bucket full of holes. She could feel temptation knocking louder than thunder on her heart. And it spooked her into beating a very fast retreat back to the pick-up. She could still walk away because she had not allowed herself to get attached to him in any way, she reminded herself staunchly. She wasn’t out shopping for a broken heart, or a bored billionaire who would tire of her extraordinary ordinariness long before she tired of him.

  *

  At Dooleys, Boyce got up to play with the band. His talent with the flute was marked by the silence of an appreciative audience followed by prolonged applause. In high spirits, he came back to his sister. ‘I can’t believe I’ve only got a couple of days left in Ballyflynn,’ he confessed. ‘I want you to know that I’ve had a fantastic time and made some great new friends. Even if my offer to buy Slieveross is turned down, I’ll be a regular visitor.’

  ‘I’ve loved having you here.’

  Suddenly her brother set his drink down with a stifled exclamation and began to rise.

  ‘What’s up?’

  His frowning look of surprise evaporating, Boyce shook his head and resumed his seat again. ‘I thought I saw a girl I used to know, but it must have been my imagination. The lighting’s lousy in here.’

  Harriet looked across the crowded room just as a tall familiar figure appeared in the doorway: it was Rafael. Several people hailed him when he strolled up to the bar to order. Long fingers wrapped round a pint of Guinness, he swung round to view the room and her heart literally jumped—so hard she almost pressed a hand to it. In a husky dark blue sweater and faded jeans, his strong jawline roughened by dark stubble, he looked stupendously sexy. As he glanced in her direction, she whipped round again, her face burning.

  Rafael walked over and asked her with the utmost casualness to introduce him to her brother. She was astonished when he then sat down to engage Boyce in conversation. A ripple of perceptible interest passed round the room as attention centred on their table. His dark golden eyes amused by her wonder at his arrival, Rafael lounged back in his seat. A study in graceful indolence, he talked to her brother with sociable ease. Acquainted as she was with Rafael’s reserve, she was impressed that he had made the effort to meet Boyce.

  ‘You got some pulling power, girl!’ Fergal bantered in a whisper on his way past. ‘The man himself isn’t a regular here.’

  Boyce was invited back to the stage to play, but to Harriet’s surprise he demurred, pleading tiredness. A moment later he angled an apologetic smile at Rafael and asked Harriet to take him back to the cottage.

  ‘I’ll be in touch.’ Something that might have been amusement gleamed in Rafael’s keen gaze.

  Her brother turned to her in the car park and exclaimed, ‘Rafael Cavaliere…only Rafael blasted Cavaliere! You weren’t going to tell me either, were you?’

  ‘Tell you what?’ Harriet was astonished, for she had not realised that Rafael had been so upfront about his identity.

  ‘That the biggest womaniser in the Western World is your neighbour and your partner in the stables!’ Boyce snapped, tight-lipped with concern. ‘I almost fell under the table when I realised who he was. Let me tell you, no brother worth the name would let his sister fall into the clutches of a guy with Cavaliere’s reputation without saying something about it!’

  Harriet got into the driver’s seat. ‘For goodness’ sake, Boyce…I’m a woman, not a kid—’

  ‘You couldn’t handle him. He’s into fast women. Don’t you read the tabloids? He’ll give you a fantastic time for a few weeks and then you’ll be history. If he’s hunting you, it can only be because there’s a shortage of supermodels and actresses round here!’

  Pain sliced through Harriet at that telling comment from her half-sibling. Boyce fell suddenly silent, as if he realised that he had been less than tactful. But Harriet could only acknowledge that it was true: she had no hope of ever falling into the supermodel category. Hadn’t she too wondered if the secret of her attraction for Rafael was proximity and lack of competition?

  ‘Harriet…I didn’t mean it that way…’

  ‘No offence taken.’

  Boyce released a measured sigh. ‘Luke really chewed you up, and you’re vulnerable right now. The last thing you need is a super-wealthy tycoon running rings round you and then forgetting your name the minute he gets bored!’

  ‘But I bet I’d enjoy myself…for a while anyway. Luke wasn’t much fun. I didn’t appreciate that until I’d got over him.’ Harriet switched off the engine outside the cottage and lifted her chin. ‘Life’s too short for regrets. Didn’t you like anything about Rafael?’

  Her brother regarded her in frank surprise. ‘When did I say I disliked the bloke? He’s clever, cool…a touch intimidating, I have to admit. But I’ve got nothing against him.’

  Harriet could not help laughing. ‘No?’

  ‘No. I just don’t want you to get hurt again. Let’s face it—you’re into steady relationships and he wouldn’t know what one was…’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  RAFAEL LAY in bed listening in resignation to Harriet’s bedraggled rooster bring in the dawn at Flynn Court. Familiarity with the experience did not lessen the full effect of Albert in full flow. In spite of Tolly and Una’s conspiracy of silence, he knew that the rooster belonged to Harriet’s menagerie since Davis had spilled the beans. Apparently Albert visited the stable yard for a second chorus every morning, and Davis was definitely not a fan.

  ‘I hear you’re a fine shot, sir,’ the groom had remarked hopefully. ‘Sure, who would ever know if that pesky bird was just to disappear into thin air?’

  ‘Albert is a pet,’ Rafael had murmured in quiet warning. ‘I want him to enjoy a long and healthy life.’

  Harriet rose early. With the gymkhana taking place within twenty-four hours, she had
a busy day ahead. The elderly farmer who owned Slieveross had agreed to meet Boyce, but had also intimated that he was not yet willing to discuss the possibility of selling it. The auctioneer had warned her brother that the old man would probably want to spend a few weeks, at the very least, mulling over whether or not he was prepared to part with any of the land.

  ‘Such a quaint way to do business,’ Boyce commented with immense appreciation over breakfast.

  The two women organising the gymkhana arrived about nine, with helpers to put up the jumps and rope off separate sections in the field so that more than one event could take place at the same time. Harriet had just sat down to finish off the bills in the office when a knock sounded on the door. It opened slowly to reveal Una.

  ‘It’s me…I suppose you’ve been wondering where I’ve been,’ the teenager said uncomfortably.

  ‘Yes.’

  Una reddened. ‘I thought you’d gone back with your ex-fiancé and I was really annoyed with you.’

  ‘But why did you think that?’ Harriet asked gently.

  Una hung her dark head and explained how she had reached that conclusion before saying, ‘You’re going to think I’m really sad…’

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘I just so wanted you to get off with Rafael.’

  Harriet was surprised. ‘You…did?’

  ‘I like you. I thought you’d be good for him. Please don’t tell him I said it, but left to himself he has really, really bad taste in women,’ the slender brunette confided in a guilty whisper.

  Harriet could barely keep her face straight. ‘Is that so?’

  ‘All they’re interested in is his money, and they’re dead fake and plastic. But you’re into horses, like he is, and you’re not always fussing about how you look. I knew he’d go for that. I was waiting on you two getting together and—’