Sommersgate House

by Kristen Ashley

  She took a deep breath and considered his ridiculous command to calm herself when he was lying on her bed bleeding from a gunshot wound. Regardless of his title, station or whatever else, she decided to ignore it. And it took every ounce of courage she possessed because this man, who could go from bland and unmoved to seductive lover to roaring aristocrat to dangerous, predatory deity, scared the living daylights out of her.

  Still, none of that changed the fact that Douglas was bleeding from a gunshot wound on her bed.

  “Nick, go get the whisky from his study and the first aid kit that’s in the kitchen,” Julia ordered and when Nick didn’t move she whirled on him. “Go!”

  Nick glanced at Douglas who obviously gave him the go ahead because Nick left the room.

  “Lay back, relax, when he gets back, I’ll, well, I don’t know what I’ll do but I’ll figure out something,” she told Douglas.

  Douglas was watching her and she watched him right back, steeling herself against his glittering, intense eyes whose depths she couldn’t read.

  Obviously unable to win one of his staring contests, she finally asked, “Are you in pain?”

  “Not when I don’t move.”

  “Then don’t move.”

  “Good advice.”

  Julia stopped staring at him and started glaring at him and Douglas just accepted her glare. Nick arrived back and just to do something, she grabbed the whisky decanter and gave it to Douglas.

  “Drink,” Julia commanded and Douglas gratefully lifted the decanter to his lips.

  “Doesn’t alcohol thin the blood?” Nick asked.

  Like lightning, Julia jumped forward and snatched the decanter from Douglas’s grasp.

  “Get her out of here, Nick, before I kill her,” Douglas said through gritted teeth, his angry eyes gleaming darkly at her.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Julia boldly declared and cut her eyes to Nick who was advancing on her. “You touch me, I’ll scream bloody murder. Just try me.”

  Nick stopped.

  Douglas sighed.

  “I’m cleaning the wound,” Julia announced into the void.

  “Well, Doug, that sounds like a good idea, doesn’t it?” Nick asked, sounding like he was trying to placate a wounded beast so he could draw out a thorn. She’d never heard anyone but Tamsin call him Doug and she wondered who this Nick character was. He looked rough and, regardless of his height, he looked like a man you wouldn’t mess with. Lastly, he was also obviously trusted implicitly by Douglas.

  Douglas didn’t reply.

  She searched through the first aid kit and found only minuscule cleansing wipes that were smaller by half than your average handi-wipe.

  “What,” she turned slowly and showed the wipe to the men, “am I supposed to do with this?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned back to the kit, rifling through it. “Don’t you have any rubbing alcohol, any hydrogen peroxide? This kit is a joke.”

  “She’s trying to kill me, Nick. She wants me dead so she can take the children back to America.”

  Julia whirled around “Rubbing alcohol won’t kill…” but she stopped when Douglas’s head shot up.

  “Doctor,” Douglas muttered and Nick immediately left the room to fetch the doctor.

  Julia and Douglas surveyed each other like opponents on a battlefield.

  Julia broke the silence. “Douglas, is there something you want to share with me?”

  “Not now, Julia.”

  “I’ll tell you something for nothing,” she said, her anger taking over her nerves and making her lapse into the Midwestern twang her mother tried for years to breed out of them. “If you die, I’m going to kill you.”

  To her shock, her idiotic threat made him grin. What he thought was worth grinning about in this grim situation, she could not imagine. Furthermore, she had to steal herself against just how devilishly sexy his damn grins made him, gunshot wounds or not. Before she could respond to the wickedly handsome look on his face, the doctor was at the door.

  Julia watched as he inspected the wound then looked up and spoke to Nick and Julia.

  “One of you stay to help me, the other one, leave us.”

  “I’ll do it,” Julia immediately offered.

  “No!” both Douglas and Nick shouted.

  “You’re outvoted, luv,” the doctor said kindly and Julia, without a fight so the doctor could see to Douglas without delay, left.

  Instead of going toward the house, where the kids might hear or see her, she went to the chapel.

  The chapel, as it was unused nearly all the time, was unheated. She hadn’t put on her robe or slippers and only had on a pair of thin, knit, mint green, drawstring pyjama bottoms and matching lace-trimmed camisole.

  She paced through the darkness to keep herself warm and she counted to keep her mind busy. She did not want to think of what her life had become. She did not want to list in her mind the many reasons her life had descended into sheer, unadulterated madness.

  But as the minutes ticked by, her control slipped and she started listing. She couldn’t help it, it was habit.

  There was Monique, the Super Bitch, out there somewhere, Julia knew, conniving to make Julia’s life a living hell. There was Douglas, lying on her bed with a gunshot wound in his shoulder. That same Douglas who wanted her to marry him for what had to be nefarious reasons and kept kissing her for no reason at all. There were the ghosts of separated lovers haunting this creepy old house. Then there was the house itself, spooky beyond belief and…

  “Doc’s done,” Nick said from behind her, making her jump.

  She rushed through the chapel, down the hall and back into her room.

  Douglas was lounging back on her pillows and the bloody towels, shirt and overcoat had disappeared. His chest was cleaned of blood and his shoulder was wrapped expertly in bandages.

  “Are you his intended?” the doctor asked her.

  “What?” she forced her gaze away from Douglas who had his eyes closed and seemed to be sleeping.

  “His intended? He said you were getting married,” the doctor explained.

  Thinking that he may not tell her important information if she said no, she said, “Yes.”

  Douglas’s eyes opened and he grinned again.

  She wanted to stamp her foot in frustration but she forced herself to turn calmly to the doctor. “How is he?”

  “He’s fine. Didn’t hit anything major and went clean through. I’ll want to have a scan of it tomorrow but he needs rest tonight. No moving the shoulder. I’ve given him something for the pain.” He looked at Douglas. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He clasped his case closed and Nick left with him.

  Julia stared down at Douglas suddenly deflated and overcome with relief that everything was going to be okay. Not relieved that he’d shown up in the middle of the night with a gunshot wound, a wound which somehow didn’t send him into shock and a wound which he would not allow her to phone the police to report, but that particular discussion would have to wait for tomorrow.

  “Well, now that I know you’re okay, I’ll go upstairs and sleep,” she announced.

  “Why don’t you sleep here?” Douglas suggested, his voice slightly slurred making her think the painkiller was working.

  “As comfortable as that chaise lounge is, I don’t want to sleep on it.” She was grabbing her slippers and robe but she heard him pat the bed.

  “No, not there, here.” He was watching her, his eyes half-shut and she had to admit, he looked unbelievably sexy. He had a very nice chest, well-defined abs and she just noticed the snug black jeans…

  She tore her gaze away. “I’ll find a bed upstairs, there’re plenty.”

  “No,” Douglas returned. “Mother keeps them unmade. Doesn’t like the sheets gathering dust. Only made up for guests. The children will hear you if you make up a bed.”

  “Then you stay down here and I’ll sleep in your bed.”

  His eyes went from half-shut to fully-open, regar
ding her sharply. “Julia, you don’t sleep in that bed until I’m in it with you.”

  Her stomach flipped at his words, his tone and his look.

  To hide her fluster, she said with false bravado, “Well, at this point, I’m not entirely certain what you’ll do about it considering the… shape… you’re…”

  She trailed off as he stood up and stalked, absolutely stalked, toward her.

  He didn’t stop until he was towering over her.

  “If I have to, I’ll open this wound and carry you back down, or join you up there. Your choice.”

  She stood there, stunned.

  “I’ll find a couch,” she offered.

  “Julia, I’m tired, I’ve been shot, for Christ’s sake, just get into the bed.”

  “Why?” she asked shakily.

  “Because I want you to. Because I need something warm and soft and alive beside me tonight. Something that smells good and feels good. After what I’ve seen…” he stopped when her eyes widened in curiosity at his words. It was then the shutters closed over his features, he gave up and turned away from her. “Forget it, find your couch.”

  She stood there and stared at him as he fell back on her bed and closed his eyes.

  And she couldn’t help but wonder, what exactly had he seen? What on earth could make Douglas Ashton’s renowned composure slip?

  Pulling herself from her thoughts, Julia went around turning off the lights and making up her mind (or making up excuses, depending on how you looked at it).

  It wouldn’t hurt, just tonight; he’d had a painkiller which eventually should kick in.

  And he’d been shot, for goodness sake.

  And he needed human companionship and gone so far as to admit it. She couldn’t say no as she knew exactly how that felt.

  She decided tomorrow she could go back to being aloof and unaffected by him.

  Tonight, she was going to give Douglas what he wanted.

  Just this once.

  She climbed into bed cautiously and no sooner had she begun to lay back, his arm shot out and pulled her closer.

  Then he hissed, “Bloody hell, your hands are like ice.”

  Hastily she explained, “I was in the chapel, I didn’t want to children to hear me pacing. It was cold.”

  “Get under the covers,” he ordered and she jumped out of bed as he rolled off the other side. He carefully took off his boots as she ran to put on a pair of socks so her feet wouldn’t freeze him, returned and got under the covers where he already was.

  Just as before, the minute she lay her body down, he pulled it towards him. The way they were laying she had no choice but to rest one hand on his chest and her cheek on his good shoulder. She felt his muscles tense at the coldness of her hands but he said nothing.

  She felt like a fool.

  “I’m sorry my hands are cold,” she whispered.

  He made a noise that sounded a lot like a grunt.

  Then, silence.

  She tried to relax and couldn’t.

  So she asked, “Where’s Nick?”

  Another grunt and no further reply so she assumed Nick wasn’t coming back.

  She waited another moment.

  “Who is Nick, by the way?” she inquired, not able to stop herself.

  “Julia, if you don’t shut up, I’ll be forced to shut you up and although I have a feeling we both would very much enjoy what I have in mind, it might cause me to bleed to death. So, I’m asking you please, just be quiet and go to sleep.”

  “Okay,” she relented, too terrified to say anything else.

  “And don’t be scared of me,” he demanded in that tone that again said he expected her to obey even though his demand was impossibly ridiculous.

  “Okay,” she repeated meekly, trying to get him to relax as she could tell by the muscles flexing under her hands that he wasn’t. “Goodnight. I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered.

  At that, he pulled her closer.

  And, much sooner than she ever expected, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Fire and Ice

  Douglas awoke in an empty bed, moving his head to the side to see Julia was gone. He looked at the clock and it was seven forty-five. The children would have left for school and he was wondering where the hell she was when he heard the shower.

  He felt his body involuntarily relax.

  The painkiller hadn’t started working until after Julia had fallen asleep. He could tell when she finally dropped off and the tenseness went out of her body, the weight of her settling against his side.

  He very much enjoyed that feeling.

  He awoke sometime in the night to feel that Julia had settled in quite well. The freezing cold hand she’d laid tentatively on his chest was now a warm arm that draped across his abdomen. Her face was snuggled deeper into his shoulder and she’d crooked her leg, the knee settled just under his groin, her calf falling between his legs. Her body was remarkably warm in sleep and he found her heat strangely comforting.

  Hearing the shower stop, he tested his shoulder cautiously and winced at the pain. He should get up and leave but none of the staff knew he was home and he didn’t relish exiting Julia’s room first thing in the morning, bare-chested and wrapped in bandages.

  She strode into the room wearing her long, lilac cashmere robe and wrapped around her hair was a towel that had obviously been confiscated from another bathroom. Douglas’s mother was particular about the colour coordination of towels and Julia had used all of hers on him last night.

  She walked straight to the desk, the front of the robe parting to accommodate her stride showing a shapely length of leg. She hadn’t noticed he was awake so he took advantage of this opportunity to observe her.

  Douglas watched as she stood by the desk and reached down. He could tell by her movements that she was using the touchpad on her laptop and was clicking through something. She stopped, leaned over the screen to have a better look and smiled softly. He felt his chest tighten at the smile, an instantaneous reaction the cause of which he felt it best to ignore.

  One of the many reactions he’d been having to Julia lately that he felt it best to ignore.

  She sat down to give whatever it was her attention, crossing her legs to the side of the desk and the robe fell away, exposing them fully to his gaze. Her fingers flew over the keyboard with astonishing speed but before she was finished the handle on the door rattled. He watched her head shoot up then she exited the chair and flew across the room.

  She caught the door as it was opening and whispered, “Ronnie…”

  Douglas heard his maid murmuring and Julia responded quietly, “I got up a little late… didn’t get a shower before breakfast. I’m sorry, can you come back later? I’ll find you, okay?”

  He heard the affirmative noise from Veronika, Julia closed the door and turned toward the bed. He saw her head peeping around the draperies and closed his eyes, feigning sleep. When he heard her move off, he opened them again.

  He watched her stroll down the hall of her dressing room. She sorted through some drawers and he saw her pull out a wisp of white.

  This was when any chivalrous man would either close his eyes or let her know he was awake.

  Douglas, however, was not the kind of man to let chivalry stand in the way of seizing an opportunity.

  She bent down to step into her underwear, her back to him, the robe hiding anything but a brief flash of leg, which, Douglas thought, was damned disappointing.

  At that point, he found himself tiring of the game and wanting her attention instead. He rolled cautiously out of bed, walked silently across the room and stood in the doorway to her dressing room, leaning his good shoulder against the door jam.

  “Good morning, Julia.”

  She let out a small, stifled scream and whirled around, her hand flying to the opening of her robe.

  “You’re awake,” she noted the obvious.

  He crossed his arms on his chest and winced. She noticed
his grimace and came forward.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked gently, her eyes were on his bandages.

  How was he feeling?

  That was an excellent question.

  His shoulder was burning with pain but that he could handle.

  His feelings about last night were quite a bit different.

  She’d been extraordinary. Throughout her performance he didn’t know whether to order Nick from the room and throw her on the bed or strangle her.

  In his life, only one woman had ever even attempted to care for him and that woman was his sister. His mother had never bothered. He’d never had another woman who cared for anything other than his money, his title, the enjoyment he could give them in bed or the number of photographs she could appear in at his side.

  While they were growing up, Tamsin had been just like an angry lioness protecting her cub, albeit she was a powerless one.

  Last night, he watched Julia do the same, but she wasn’t powerless. She was dazzling and formidable, bent on controlling the situation and looking after him, even when she had no idea what she was doing and even when he ordered her not to.

  Her behaviour only served to strengthen his resolve to have her as his wife. Outside of that, he wouldn’t allow himself to contemplate.

  “It hurts like hell,” he answered her question.

  He watched with no small amount of fascination as her eyes melted and she closed the space between them.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice low and gentle.

  “I’ll survive,” he told her, his tone just as soft.

  She looked in his eyes and hers became startled as realisation dawned that they were sharing a tender moment. Douglas watched, registering a vague sense of disappointment when the guard went up and Julia carefully controlled her features.

  “Well, never fear,” she stated airily, the moment lost, she was moving back into the dressing room and waving her arm for emphasis, “Carter had a quiet little chat with me this morning and apparently your friend Nick called him. You have a doctor’s appointment today at nine. Carter is going to bring some clothes down for you and he’ll be taking you.”