‘Oh yes,’ a light of revenge entered her eyes, ‘especially your kindness late last night when you insisted on making me a cup of coffee. It was very nice of you.’
‘Grant…?’ Valerie gasped.
‘Especially as I was hardly dressed for it,’ Ryan continued with feigned innocence. ‘I felt a little conspicuous sitting with you in my nightgown. Still, we’re both adults,’ she looked at him challengingly, knowing by the angry glitter in his eyes, the rigidness of his jaw, that she had almost pushed him to the limit for one day. It was enough that she had shown him she wouldn’t be pushed around. ‘And I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of women in less,’ she added with a bright smile.
‘Grant!’ Valerie was openly angry now, her mouth tight.
‘Yes?’ He looked at the other woman coldly, daring her to question his movements.
Her gaze fell from his, and she shot Ryan a look of intense dislike. ‘Shall we go in to lunch?’ she suggested tautly.
At that Mandy walked into the room, changed from her riding clothes now, wearing a tailored silky dress in a particularly attractive shade of green. ‘Are you waiting for me?’ she said brightly, sensing none of the undercurrents of antagonism that existed between the other three as they ate their meal, conversation virtually non-existent.
But Ryan knew of Grant’s anger, knew there would be retribution for the way she had attempted to embarrass him in front of Valerie Chatham. And he hadn’t been embarrassed. He had been furious with her, but he felt he owed the other woman no explanation. Ryan felt sure he would demand one from her before the day was through.
When the other couple left shortly after lunch Ryan for one heaved a sigh of relief, and Mandy didn’t look too bothered by their departure either.
‘I wonder what they’ve argued about,’ she said uninterestedly.
The two of them were sitting in the drawing-room. Ryan looked at the other girl curiously. ‘Do they argue a lot?’
Mandy shrugged. ‘Quite a bit. Do you and Mark argue?’
‘Never,’ she answered without hesitation.
‘Do you love him?’
‘I—In a way,’ she amended her flat denial. After all, if Mark did marry Diana he would be an honorary brother-in-law, for she and Diana were like sisters.
Mandy grimaced and stood up. ‘Everyone seems to have someone to love but me. Sleaton isn’t exactly teeming with sexy-looking men,’ she derided.
‘There’s Peter Thornby.’
Mandy looked at her sharply, forcing the tension to leave her as she met Ryan’s deliberately bland expression. ‘He’s always too busy to notice anything but his patients. What are you going to do this afternoon?’ she changed the subject.
Ryan respected her wish not to talk about the young vet. ‘I thought I might bathe Ragtag.’
‘Not before time!’
‘No,’ she laughed lightly. ‘That’s what I thought.’
‘I should change out of those clothes if I were you,’ Mandy advised. ‘I’ve helped Grant with Rex and Riba in the past, and you tend to get in rather a mess yourself.’
She took the other girl’s advice, and put on her oldest denims and tee-shirt, both splattered with paint, not being really too worried if they were messed up. She secured her hair at her nape too.
She found Ragtag outside having his afternoon nap—in fact, he seemed to spend the whole of his life sleeping!
‘I have a lovely surprise for you,’ she told him as he looked up at her, and went into the stable to take down the metal bath from the wall that Mandy had told her Grant used for the Labradors.
The dog watched her movements with interest as she began to carry the water over in a bucket from the tap inside the stable, having placed the tin bath outside in the yard. Ragtag had an aversion to going into the stable at the best of times, and Ryan knew she would never be able to carry the bath outside once it had the water in. Nevertheless, after the fifth bucketful she was beginning to think Ragtag would have to take his bath where she put it. It was hell on her back carrying this bucket!
‘What on earth are you doing?’
Ryan looked up in the middle of carrying her eighth bucketful to the bath, glaring her dislike at Grant as he watched her struggles. ‘What does it look like?’ she said fiercely, emptying the water and straightening with an effort, every muscle in her back seeming to ache.
‘Why didn’t you use the hose?’ he drawled.
She blinked. ‘What hose?’
He strode into the stable, coming back seconds later with a coiled green hosepipe. ‘This one,’ he mocked.
Ryan could have cried. It had taken her almost an hour to fill the bath, with the use of the hose it would have taken a matter of minutes! ‘No one told me about it,’ she snapped badtemperedly.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘It was hanging on the wall just inside.’
‘Well, I didn’t see it!’
‘Obviously.’
She glared up at him, hating him for his superiority. ‘Has Miss Chatham gone home?’
His jaw tightened, the amusement leaving his eyes. ‘Yes, she’s gone home. That was rather a cheap shot you made earlier,’ he rasped.
‘About as cheap as the one you made last night,’ Ryan nodded.
Grant’s mouth twisted. ‘I don’t remember you thinking it cheap at the time. In fact, I seem to remember you liked it.’
‘I seem to remember a similar reaction in you.’ She scorned to hide her embarrassment, unable to deny the truth.
Grant didn’t deny it either. His stance was challenging, the black denims and black silk shirt giving him the look of the devil himself. ‘Maybe we should explore that—liking, at a more convenient time?’ he drawled softly, his green eyes caressing on the soft curve of her face.
‘Have you forgotten Miss Chatham?’ she mocked.
‘Have you forgotten Mark?’
‘Not at all,’ she flashed. ‘He’s always in my thoughts. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I intend bathing Ragtag.’
‘That might be rather difficult,’ Grant taunted.
She looked at him sharply. ‘Why?’
‘I think he’s realised what you’re doing, he just disappeared around the side of the stable!’
Ryan turned with a gasp. Ragtag had indeed gone! ‘Damn, damn, damn!’ If she hadn’t had an audience in the shape of Grant Montgomery she would probably have stamped her foot too! She glared at him. ‘I’ve just broken my back carrying that water out here, and you come along and frighten my dog off!’
His eyes widened at the injustice of her accusation, then he began to smile, the smile turning into a full-throated laugh, throwing his head back with obvious enjoyment.
Ryan dropped the bucket on the cobbles, breathing hard in her anger, too furious to notice how handsome he looked, his genuine humour making him appear younger, a cleft in one of his lean cheeks as he continued to smile, his teeth very white against his dark skin, his eyes a luminous green.
Ryan noticed none of that; her own face was flushed with fury. ‘What are you laughing at?’
He sobered with an effort. ‘You look like a little girl when you’re angry.’
‘Really?’ she said in a dangerously soft voice.
‘Really.’ He began to smile again.
This time Ryan did notice how devastating he looked, and her breath seemed to be knocked from her body. This man was lethal when he forgot to be cruel. She couldn’t possibly be becoming attracted to him! That wouldn’t help Mark at all. No, she mustn’t allow herself to be attracted to such a man. He could destroy her if he chose to.
She turned away. ‘I’d better try and find Ragtag,’ she mumbled, ‘or the water will be cold.’
‘Of course.’ He was once again the rigidly formal man she was used to. ‘I have some shampoo you can use, I’ll get it for you. I use it on the Labradors.’
‘Where are they?’ she frowned. Considering they were supposed to live here they were rarely about!
‘With my estate mana
ger.’ He gave a half smile. ‘I don’t think they’re quite sure which one of us they belong to. When I’m away he takes care of them.’
‘And do you go away often?’
‘Often enough,’ he revealed haughtily. ‘I’ll get the shampoo for you.’ He turned and walked away.
Ryan began searching for Ragtag, determinedly not thinking about the way Grant had briefly dropped his contemptuous attitude towards her. It could be too disturbing!
A few minutes later she heard a horse leaving the stable, and turned just in time to see Grant astride a black stallion, looking more like the devil as he rode away, bent low over the stallion’s back.
‘Was that Grant I heard just now?’ Mandy came across the yard towards her, once again in her riding clothes.
‘Mm,’ she answered absently, reading the instructions on the back of the bottle Grant had left out for her, hoping that Ragtag would return of his own accord. She certainly wasn’t having any luck finding him! When he wanted to disappear he did it without trace.
‘Laughing?’ Mandy sounded incredulous.
Ryan gave a surprised laugh herself. ‘Don’t look so shocked,’
‘I’m not. It’s just—’ Mandy frowned. ‘He doesn’t laugh like that very often. Usually it’s just a twist of his mouth when he’s amused, or a cynical smile. It’s years since I heard him laugh like that,’ she revealed.
‘He seems to find me funny,’ Ryan said dryly. ‘Or at least, the fact that I have a temper.’
‘I don’t care what made him laugh, I’m just glad it happened. It was good to hear.’
Ryan shrugged. ‘Who knows, maybe he’ll find other things about me that amuse him.’
‘Ryan—’
‘There you are, you silly dog!’ Ryan pounced on Ragtag as he appeared back round the stable, holding on to him. ‘Help me get him in the bath, will you?’ she pleaded with Mandy.
‘I—Oh, all right,’ she gave in. ‘But I warn you, we’ll both get soaked.’
It was a warning that was to come overwhelmingly true. Ragtag fought all their efforts to bath him calmly, merely suffering the scrubbing of his fur, then he got out of the bath to shake his long coat all over Mandy.
She backed off with a squeal, but it was already too late, she was wetter than ever, her clothes clinging to her wetly, water literally dripping from her hair.
‘Great!’ she grimaced, starting to shiver despite the sun. ‘I think I’m wetter than he is!’
Ryan began to laugh, and soon Mandy was joining in, the two of them having dropped all hostilities while they bathed the dog, needing all their strength to keep him in one place.
Ryan began to rub Ragtag’s long fur dry, Mandy having found an old blanket in the stable she could use. ‘He looks better now, though, doesn’t he?’ she looked at him admiringly, having revealed a snowy white and smoky grey coat.
‘He looks beautiful,’ Mandy agreed, still smiling. ‘Now we’d better chase him round the yard a bit before you brush him. It will dry him off,’ she explained.
The silly dog thought it great fun to be chased round and round the yard, finally collapsing outside the kitchen door, looking up expectantly.
‘I think he wants feeding,’ Mandy said breathlessly.
‘Not until I’ve brushed him.’ Ryan collapsed next to him, the brush in her hand. ‘I think you should go and get changed, before you catch pneumonia.’ The other girl was still very wet, despite their mad antics.
‘You’re a little wet yourself,’ Mandy derided.
Mandy certainly was; her tee-shirt was now clinging to her, clearly outlining the curve of her breast in fine detail. ‘I’ll change when I’ve cleared away out here. You’re worse than me, anyway. Go on and have a shower, I shouldn’t be long.’ She began to brush Ragtag.
By the time she had finished he did truly look beautiful, a really regal-looking Old English Sheepdog. But he didn’t look quite so regal when he threw himself at his food-bowl!
Ryan left him to it and went over to empty the bath, carrying it back into the stable, reaching up to put it on the wall.
‘Let me,’ Grant murmured behind her, taking it from her shaking hands to put it on the hook.
Ryan stood uncomfortably within the circle of his arms; she could feel the warmth of his body against hers, the smell of horseflesh and human perspiration, a heady mixture in any circumstances, dangerously so with Grant.
She turned awkwardly in his arms, bringing their thighs together, and flinched back from him, but she only came up against the wall, looking up at him beneath lowered lashes. His hair was windswept, a healthy colour to his harsh cheeks, his breathing becoming shallow as he looked down at her.
‘Dear girl,’ he suddenly rasped, one hand moving to tentatively touch her breast, ‘what on earth have you been doing? You’re soaking wet!’
Ryan wetted her lips nervously with the tip of her tongue. ‘I—Ragtag was a little—generous with his bath-water.’ She could feel the heat of his hand through the thin cotton material of her top, and her breath caught in her throat as he hesitantly touched the hardened nipple.
He looked up as he heard her involuntary gasp of pleasure, his eyes like emeralds in the gloom at the back of this empty stall. ‘I thought about you while I was out,’ he told her huskily, releasing her hair so that it lay silkily on her shoulders.
Ryan was having difficulty breathing, his fingertips now teasing her body. ‘You did?’ she choked, pleasure threatening to spiral out of control.
‘Yes,’ he ground out. ‘But I never thought I’d be doing this,’ his hands moved beneath her tee-shirt as he stepped closer to her. ‘I didn’t imagine you’d be waiting for me here.’
‘Oh, but I—’
His mouth on hers stopped any more talk between them, and soon, very soon, she had nothing to say, her senses singing as dizzy pleasure shot through her body, a wild sensation of longing for even closer contact between them.
Grant’s mouth still moved over hers as he lowered her down into the sweet-smelling hay, his lips moving against hers, each telling of their full arousal.
Ryan’s mouth moved in fevered caresses over his jaw and throat, feeling the probe of his lips against her earlobe, going lower, lower…The air felt cool against her naked breasts as Grant smoothed the wet material back, the slight dampness of her skin heightening the sensations as his mouth claimed one taut nipple, caressing the nub, desire coursing through her body at each silken caress of his tongue.
‘You’re perfection!’ he gasped against her flesh. ‘Silky, smooth, oh, I could devour every inch of you!’ He claimed her mouth again, his lips moving druggingly against hers, his hands continuing their exploration of her body, releasing the fastening on her denims to caress the softness beneath, the lacy briefs posing no problems to his questing hand.
She gasped as he touched her inner thigh, the surge of passion that engulfed her taking her breath away. She kissed his bared chest, having dispensed with the buttons on his shirt long ago, her nails digging into his back as she caressed him beneath the silk material.
A sensation such as she had never known before, a delicious pleasurable ache was taking over her body; her limbs felt weightless, only the touch of Grant’s hands and mouth were important to her, nothing and no one else mattered any more.
‘Touch me, Ryan,’ he encouraged with a groan, moving her hand to the belt of his denims, aiding her with the fastening as she fumbled with the task. ‘Dear God, yes!’ he arched against her hand as she touched him.
‘Ryan? Grant?’ Mandy called out uncertainly. ‘Are you in here?’
Grant’s hand over her mouth prevented Ryan’s gasp of dismay being heard. ‘Quiet!’ he ordered through gritted teeth. ‘She’ll go away in a moment,’ he hissed.
‘Ryan? Grant?’ Mandy repeated impatiently.
All the time they were waiting for Mandy to leave Ryan stared up at Grant with shocked eyes, his hand still over her mouth, her eyes her only means of expression.
To say
she was shocked was an understatement—she was mortified! Here they both lay, both partially unclothed, their bare flesh still entwined, although desire had ebbed for both of them, leaving only stark reality in its wake. She had almost shared the ultimate physical experience with Grant Montgomery, had almost given herself to him in a bed of straw!
Finally Mandy’s footsteps could be heard leaving, and Grant rolled away from Ryan, removing his hand from her mouth at the same time. She was afraid to move as he stared sightlessly up at the ceiling for several long minutes.
‘No post-mortems, no recriminations,’ he rasped finally. ‘I think you should just go!’
So did she, and she scrambled inelegantly to her feet, straightening her clothing as she did so. She ran to the door, turning briefly, her last sight of Grant as he still lay in the straw, the disarray of his clothes caused by her own impatient fingers.
Luckily she saw no one else as she ran to her room, where she leaned back weakly against the door, her pulse-rate refusing to slow. What had just happened had totally bewildered her, left her with a lack of faith in herself. She would never have believed she could behave so wantonly, never have guessed that Grant Montgomery would be the man to have such an explosive effect on her. She still ached for the fulfilment she had trembled on, still wanted the hardness of his body entwined with hers. If Mandy hadn’t come along and interrupted them…!
A lukewarm shower did nothing to dampen her senses, and it was with hot cheeks and trembling body that she left the house to walk with Ragtag.
How could she have let that happen? How could she have stopped it! That awareness had been between them since the previous night, and there had been no way either of them could have denied that heated response to each other.
Grant might have been using her last night, teaching her a lesson, but there could be no denying that today he had been as deeply affected as she had.
She still blushed when she thought of how she had touched him, of how he had touched her, having no explanation, not even to herself, for the way she had behaved. No post-mortems, no recriminations, Grant had said, but what about to herself? Could she simply forget what had happened between them? She didn’t think so.
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