Heaven Here On Earth

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘He’s yours, Ryan.’ Grant spoke huskily in the darkness.

  ‘I—You—I don’t know what you mean?’ she choked. ‘Alfred Cole—’

  ‘Mr Cole has relinquished all claim to him,’ Grant said icily. ‘Or should I say he’s been forced to relinquish that claim,’ he added grimly.

  ‘Ragtag—?’

  ‘Is all right now,’ he assured her. ‘But another few days with Cole and he might not have been. If you still want the dog, he’s yours.’

  ‘You mean it?’

  ‘Yes. He—Ryan!’ he gasped as she threw herself at him, knocking him back into the chair. ‘Ryan…!’ he suddenly groaned, turning in the chair to trap her beside him, his mouth covering hers possessively.

  Her arms went up about his neck as she pulled him down to her, her mouth opening convulsively to deepen the caress of his lips on hers.

  ‘I’ve missed you,’ Grant moaned into her mouth.

  ‘I’ve missed you too,’ she admitted huskily.

  ‘You have?’ He moved back slightly to look at her.

  ‘You must know I have.’ Her fingertips trailed lovingly down his hard cheek. ‘Oh, Grant…!’

  ‘Let me love you, Ryan. Please, let me love you!’ His body covered hers as he kissed her with increasing desire, the tautness of his thighs telling her that he was already aroused.

  She ached to touch him, smoothing the shirt from his shoulders to touch his bare flesh, her tongue flicking rivulets of pleasure over his body as her mouth moved erotically down, ever down…

  Grant groaned his pleasure, pulling her to her feet. ‘Not here, darling. I like to do my lovemaking in the comfort of a bed, at least.’ His arm was about her waist as they slowly walked up the stairs together.

  Ryan thought briefly, sadly, of all the other women he must have slept with, and then in the darkness of her bedroom he began to undress her, erasing all those other women from her mind. Grant was the man she loved, it would all be different between them, she would make it different.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SHE stood outlined in the moonlight as Grant removed her clothes one by one, first her blouse, then her bra, bending his head to kiss each pert nipple in turn once they had been bared to his avid lips, releasing the catch to her denims to slide them down her hips, coming down on his knees in front of her as she stepped out of them, then gently easing the bikini briefs from her body, pressing his face against her silken flesh as she stood naked before him.

  Then his lovemaking began in earnest, as he kissed the tautness of her stomach, knew every inch of her, from her head to her toes, quickly overcoming any lingering inhibitions she might have. She did not even notice the removal of the rest of his clothes as she lay before him, lost in a world where only his caresses mattered, where the only reality was his naked body moving forcefully over hers, aching for their final joining, longing for the fierce thrust of his body as he made her one with him.

  ‘Please, Grant,’ she begged as he caressed her inner thigh, drawing her ever near the edge of climactic pleasure and then retreating, allowing her to calm before the onslaught began again. Each time he caressed her differently, gently sucking her nipples until she cried out for mercy, kissing her thighs while his fingertips moved erotically over her breasts and stomach. Always differently, and always drawing back before the final release was hers.

  She was going insane with wanting him, couldn’t bear this torture another moment longer, hungry for the glorious surge of passion to merge into a vortex of giving, giving, giving…

  Suddenly she was controlling him, above him as he lay back with a groan, his eyes almost black as her caresses became as wild as his had been seconds earlier.

  His breathing became shallow, and within minutes it was obvious he was far from being as controlled as she had thought he was, his reaction to her kisses and caresses as wildly aroused as her own had been.

  ‘Now, Ryan!’ He suddenly stilled her hands on his body, her lips on his hard flesh. ‘It has to be now, darling,’ he groaned, once again the master, his thighs hard against her as he slowly slid down her body, gently parting her legs to accommodate him.

  Ryan never knew afterwards whether she cried out or not, but it didn’t really matter, not when pleasure followed so quickly afterwards, when the slow movement of Grant’s body within her caused that delicious melting feeling, that submergence to the purely physical, every particle of her being, every tingling sensation of her body belonging to him, only to him.

  The sensations were building now, piling in on top of each other, like the crashing of waves upon the sand, and suddenly with a mind-shattering explosion she felt she saw all life’s answers, knew herself, knew Grant, knew the very pinnacle of her existence, that she could have died in this moment and want no one to feel a moment’s regret.

  But it wasn’t over yet. Grant taking her through that fire again, joining her this time, quivering against her as pleasure hit every nerve-ending in his body. Neither of them returned to the reality of the world for several minutes, but clung to each other in the wonder of the moment.

  Ryan buried her face against Grant’s chest as he raised himself up to look at her, shy in that brief moment after passion. Had he known, did he guess that she had given him the gift of her love, of her innocence, that she never wanted anything but him, that he was everything to her?

  ‘Ryan—’

  There was a loud hammering on the door downstairs, breaking the spell that had enchanted them, reminding them that there was a world outside themselves, a world determined to intrude, as the knocking was repeated, louder this time, Ragtag beginning to bark at the intruder.

  ‘Are you expecting anyone?’ Grant asked gruffly, already standing up. Passion still lingered in the fullness of his mouth, the darkness of eyes that caressed as they touched on her bare shoulders beneath the sheet she had selfconsciously pulled over her.

  ‘No one.’ She shook her head, watching him as he moved with lithe grace to look out of the window, frowning heavily as he turned back to her, his naked body beautiful in the moonlight. ‘What is it?’ she asked anxiously as he hastily began to pull on his clothes.

  ‘Don,’ he muttered grimly. ‘Something must have happened.’ He touched her briefly on the lips. ‘I won’t be long.’

  Ryan didn’t care how long he was, knew that she would be waiting. But it must be something important for Don to have come looking for Grant this time of night. And how had the estate manager known where to look for him? Unless his car was parked in the lane next to the house; she had entered the cottage from the opposite direction, and so wouldn’t have seen it. What construction would Don put on Grant being here this time of night?

  She quickly dressed herself now, hoping Grant had remembered to pick up his shirt from downstairs before opening the door to Don. What had happened between Grant and herself was still too private to openly share with anyone else.

  Grant came back up the stairs before she had time to go down. ‘I’m sorry, darling,’ he picked up his shoes from under the bed where he had kicked them, ‘I have to go.’

  ‘What is it? She tentatively touched his shoulder. ‘Mandy—’

  ‘No, it’s the sheep,’ he said grimly, pulling on his shoes.

  Ryan paled. ‘The dogs again?’

  ‘Dog,’ he corrected. ‘Don’s pretty sure it’s only one dog. He even has an idea who it is.’ He stood up, pulling her roughly against him. ‘I’m sorry about this, my darling. It isn’t how I’d envisaged spending the rest of the night.’ His expression was longing as he looked towards the rumpled bed. ‘But I do have to go,’ he said ruefully.

  ‘There’s been another attack?’ she asked trembling.

  ‘Earlier this evening,’ he nodded. ‘Several sheep and ewes are dead.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Ryan felt sick.

  ‘Don’t worry, sweet,’ he kissed her softly on the mouth. ‘It will be all right. Get some sleep now, and we’ll talk tomorrow, hmm?’

  ‘Yes.’ She swall
owed hard, clutching at his arm as he turned to leave. ‘I’m sorry—about the sheep, I mean.’

  ‘It isn’t your fault,’ he chided. ‘Sweet dreams, my darling.’ He kissed her hard on the mouth before running down the stairs to join Don.

  Ryan moved slowly to sit on the bed. Wasn’t it her fault, at least partly? Hadn’t she known it could be Ragtag and yet kept quiet about it? Would Grant be quite so loving when Don told him who he suspected was causing the destruction?

  ***

  She hardly slept, thinking all the time that at any moment Grant was going to come back and tell her it was all Ragtag’s fault, that he was the killer.

  But he didn’t come, and by early morning Ryan was heavy-eyed from lack of sleep, knowing she had to go up to the Hall and find out what was going on, what damage had been done this time.

  ‘Stay here, Ragtag,’ she told him once she had fed him. ‘Maybe they don’t know it’s you yet.’

  He didn’t seem inclined to go anywhere; he was looking very miserable; these last few days with Alfred Cole had obviously been an awful time for him.

  It was still early when she got to the Hall, but nevertheless Peter Thornby’s Land Rover was parked next to Grant’s. Her heart thundered in her chest as she considered the implication of that.

  Grant and Peter weren’t anywhere to be seen, however, so she went up to the house to see Mandy.

  ‘They drove down to Don’s house with him,’ Mandy answered her query. ‘That’s where most of the damage was done.’

  ‘I see.’ Ryan frowned worriedly.

  Mandy was watching her closely. ‘You didn’t mind my sending Don down to the cottage last night?’ she asked. ‘Grant told me he was taking the dog back to you, and when he hadn’t returned by the time Don turned up here I thought he’d better come there.’

  Wild colour flooded Ryan’s cheeks as she avoided Mandy’s gaze. Could the other girl possibly realise what had happened between Grant and herself last night? She still wondered at that magic, so she was sure Mandy couldn’t know exactly what had happened.

  ‘I’d been out for a walk,’ she said jerkily. ‘Grant had to wait for me.’

  Mandy nodded. ‘I bet you were pleased to see him!’

  Ryan stiffened. ‘I’m always pleased to see your brother—’

  ‘I meant Ragtag,’ the other girl interrupted her awkwardly-spoken response.

  ‘Oh!’ the colour deepened in her cheeks. ‘Yes, I was pleased to see him. I—Grant said I could keep him,’ she added.

  ‘Yes,’ Mandy nodded. ‘Ragtag came back here, I think he was a little confused as to where you were. He was certainly hungry,’ she said angrily. ‘Grant took one look at him and drove over to see the man Cole himself. He was white by the time he got back, but Ragtag no longer belonged to that horrible man.’

  ‘You mean he just gave Ragtag up?’ Ryan didn’t believe that for a moment.

  ‘No,’ Mandy sighed. ‘Grant bought him.’

  ‘Bought him?’ she gasped.

  ‘Yes,’ the other girl confirmed huskily. ‘I think he gave him a choice—accept the money and give Ragtag over peacefully, or he could face a court summons and lose the dog anyway. I think Mr Cole decided something was better than nothing, and he took the money. Grant can’t stand cruelty, and that man Cole obviously hadn’t been feeding Ragtag. He ate two bowls of food while Grant was gone.’

  ‘No wonder he’s so sleepy this morning,’ she grimaced. ‘I gave him another bowlful late last night.’

  ‘He needed it,’ Mandy said vehemently. ‘There are some people who should be banned from having pets, and Alfred Cole is one of them. But Grant will keep a watch on him in future, and Cole knows that.’

  Ryan licked her lips nervously. ‘Has—has Grant been at Don’s long?’

  ‘About an hour. He wanted Peter to see the sheep.’

  ‘How many were—er—killed?’

  ‘Two ewes and three lambs,’ Mandy sighed. ‘Grant’s very angry about it.’

  She could imagine. After all, the estate was run as a business, just as his gallery was, and over the last couple of weeks Grant had lost a lot of stock. But she knew that wouldn’t be the reason for his anger, knew the gentleness in him, the warm compassion that would make him feel each sheep’s loss personally.

  ‘I think I just heard the Land Rover.’ Mandy stood up. ‘I’ll just check. Yes,’ she was looking out of the window, ‘it’s them. I’ll go and see if Peter wants to come in for coffee,’ and she hurriedly left the room.

  Ryan paced the floor once the other girl had gone, dreading what Grant was about to tell her. If he had proof that it was Ragtag…!

  The two men were out in the hallway, Mandy having supposedly disappeared to get the coffee. Both men were casually dressed, but Grant towered over the other man, and Ryan’s breath caught in her throat as she gazed undisturbed at the man she loved.

  She could still remember every vivid detail of last night, those long tapered hands on her body, his lips fevered against her skin, the hard nakedness of his body as—

  ‘He’ll have to be destroyed if what Don says is true,’ Grant’s grim tone interrupted Ryan’s daydreams, the harshness of his voice holding her immobile when she longed to run to him and throw her arms about him, to tell him of the love both of them had seemed afraid to mention last night.

  ‘Yes,’ Peter agreed heavily. ‘But it won’t be easy. You aren’t the only one involved—’

  ‘She’ll understand,’ Grant interrupted firmly. ‘I gave her the dog—’

  Ryan wasn’t listening any more. And she didn’t understand, she didn’t! Had Grant really bought Ragtag for her only to have him destroyed?

  She turned and ran out of the open french doors. Grant wouldn’t get the chance to take Ragtag. She would take him away now, would get him away from here, to London, where there were no sheep to tempt him.

  She missed the bottom step down to the yard, her ankle twisting beneath her on the cobbles as she landed heavily, pain shooting through her as she hit her head as she landed.

  She came round to find herself in the back of the Jaguar, her head resting on Mandy’s lap, a dull thump in her forehead, her ankle aching abominably.

  ‘Lie still,’ Mandy encouraged as she tried to sit up. ‘We’re taking you to hospital.’

  ‘We…?’ she echoed weakly.

  ‘Grant is driving us.’

  ‘Grant!’ Her eyes opened wide in panic, fighting Mandy’s efforts to keep her down, groaning as she sat up.

  ‘What is it?’ Grant turned to her briefly, very pale. ‘Darling, what’s—’

  ‘Don’t call me that,’ she flinched away from him. ‘Don’t come near me!’ She remembered it all now, Grant being her lover, Grant callously intending to kill her beloved Ragtag.

  ‘Ryan!’ he ground out, very puzzled.

  ‘Leave me alone!’ she told him vehemently.

  ‘Ryan, calm down,’ Mandy soothed in a shocked voice. ‘She’s suffering from shock, Grant, she doesn’t know what she’s saying.’

  ‘Oh yes, I do,’ Ryan insisted heatedly. ‘I know exactly. I want to get away from here, I want to leave Sleaton—’

  ‘Do you also want Mark?’ Grant bit out harshly, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering-wheel.

  ‘Yes,’ her eyes were fevered. ‘I want him with me, I want him to protect—’ As the car went over a bump in the road it jarred her ankle, and the pain was so severe that she passed out once again.

  When she regained consciousness this time it was to find herself in a hospital bed in a room on her own, the bright sunshine telling her it was still day, although what the actual time was she had no idea.

  ‘So you’re awake, Miss Shelton.’ A pretty young nurse came into the room with a vase of flowers. ‘From an admirer, I think,’ she said coyly, bringing Ryan the card.

  There seemed to be a box or something under her bedclothes, making it impossible for her to see her legs, and the panic was evident in her face as she looke
d up at the other girl.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ the nurse laughed, handing her the card that came with the flowers. ‘We haven’t done anything drastic. You’ve broken your ankle, so you have a plaster on your right leg. We’ve put a cradle in the bed to keep the weight of the clothes off you.’

  She moved her legs tentatively under the bedclothes, the right one feeling very strange.

  ‘That’s the plaster.’ The nurse straightened the bedclothes around her. ‘When the time comes we’ll give you some crutches to help you walk.’

  Ryan frowned her consternation. ‘How do you know what I’m going to say before I even speak?’

  The girl stepped back with a laugh; she was young and pretty, about Ryan’s age, with lovely auburn hair and mischievous blue eyes. ‘They’re questions I usually get asked, I just thought I would give you the answers.’

  ‘Maybe you can give me some more. How long have I been here? What time is it? When can I go home? What—’

  ‘Whoa!’ the nurse stopped her with a laugh. ‘That’s enough to be going on with. You’ve been here, in the ward, about an hour. It’s two o’clock. And you can go home when the doctor says you can.’

  ‘Which is?’

  The nurse shrugged. ‘A couple of days.’

  ‘I can’t stay here that long!’

  ‘It’s the normal thing to do after a knock on the head and unconsciousness. Shock could set in later. And concussion can be very nasty.’

  ‘I can’t stay here,’ Ryan said stubbornly. ‘I have a dog to look after, and—’

  ‘A young woman came in with you—Mandy, I think her name was. She said you weren’t to worry about a thing, that she would take care of everything.’

  No, Grant intended doing that, and he would have ample opportunity with her here in hospital. She had to stop him.

  ‘Where’s Mandy now?’ she asked.

  ‘We insisted that she go home and have some lunch. But we have strict instructions from Mr Montgomery to call him the moment you wake up.’ She had obviously seen Grant for herself, a look of dreamy adoration in her face.