Sommersgate House

by Kristen Ashley

  “Take your feet out of the stirrups,” Douglas commanded unexpectedly.

  She lurched up and the horse danced sideways at her sudden movement.

  The children had wandered further away, Lizzie riding expertly in a gentle gallop while Willie and Ruby were doing a sedate saunter.

  “Julia, take your feet out.” He was using that tone that brooked no argument and was standing so close to the side of the horse that she felt his heat through her calf. She was certain he would take her foot out himself if she didn’t do as he said.

  She did as he said.

  No sooner had she done it, than he grabbed the saddlehorn in front of her, put his foot in the stirrup, and, in one lithe movement, mounted the horse behind her. Both he and she in the saddle pushed her straight up the pommel as he put his other boot in the stirrup.

  He reached around her and grabbed the reins from her unfeeling hands.

  “What are you doing? This horse is going to collapse under the weight of us. This is cruelty to animals!” she cried, somewhat hysterically, wanting off, wanting to escape, wanting his lean body not to be pressing against hers from her bottom to her shoulder blades.

  “Swing your leg to the side and straddle the pommel,” he ordered.

  “What?” she screeched then went on, “No…” Then she realised if she did, she might be able just to hop off so she changed her mind and agreed immediately, “Okay.” She swung her right leg to the side so she was straddling the saddlehorn sideways just as he commanded but one of his arms slid around her waist and tightened before she could slide off.

  Foiled, she thought.

  “I’ll show you why people like to ride,” he said, his voice low and husky in her ear.

  She was staring intently at the ground and therefore saw his leg tighten on the side of the horse and they bolted forward. She yelped, twisted her torso and wrapped her arms around him. As they galloped, with each beat of the horses hooves, she slid closer to Douglas.

  “Are you insane?” she shouted over the wind rushing in her ears.

  He subtly moved the reins and the horse turned gracefully to the left and she held on tighter. She was face to face with his muscular neck, which was a part of him she especially liked (not that there were parts of him she didn’t like). To avoid it, she forced herself to face forward and grab the horse’s mane. She tried to be gentle but she knew she was holding on for dear life.

  And then, moments later, it swept over her. The realisation that Douglas knew exactly what he was doing and that the horse knew too. Horse and rider were in perfect synchronisation. She felt herself and her fingers relax and began to enjoy it. It was a risk but the risk was so thrilling and they weren’t going too fast, they weren’t out-of-control, they were safe.

  Julia was safe, with Douglas.

  Once she relaxed against his body, she understood exactly why he loved to be out on the horse, the wind, the crisp air, the speed, the strong beast between his legs, completely at his command, it was everything that was Douglas. And she began to love it too.

  He was rounding Sommersgate and when they were within sight of the stables again, he slowed the horse to a canter then down to a roping amble.

  “That wasn’t so bad was it?” His voice, again at her ear, asked quietly.

  “I suppose not.” She knew she sounded surly but her guard was down, he was all around her, she could smell…

  Her body tensed.

  She could smell the Lalique cologne.

  She closed her eyes and sighed.

  “I’ll buy you a horse.” Douglas was either ignoring or oblivious to her warring emotions.

  His words snapped her out of it.

  “You will not!”

  One of his hands captured her wrist and fiddled with the diamond watch, a watch the like that no one should wear for a simple stroll in the countryside.

  She stifled a groan.

  “You like it when I buy you things,” he murmured.

  She wished she could move her head so he wasn’t speaking in her ear. His voice seemed to rumble through her like a shudder.

  “I do not,” she retorted sharply, lying through her teeth.

  His stubbled cheek slid across hers to move her hair out of the way. They were nearing the stables now and she was glad of it. His rough cheek was pressed against her smooth one and it felt nice, too nice.

  “You love it,” he whispered.

  “You are truly the most irritating man I’ve ever met,” she snapped in order to cover the fact that he was absolutely right. He knew it and, worse, she knew it.

  He chuckled, the sound so close to her, she felt it in the pit of her belly.

  The children were already back to the stables and were dismounting. Douglas pulled his horse to a halt and quickly swung his leg off so he was down before she could jump down. He grabbed her waist and she knew she could not protest in front of the children as he slid her slowly off the horse, the entire way down just inches from his body. It was enough to be meaningful sexually but not explicit, for the children.

  She was back to wanting to clobber him.

  That or throw her arms around his neck and promise to marry him.

  “Irritating,” she grouched because it was the only thing she could do.

  She was imprisoned between his body and the horse. He lifted her face by placing the side of his gloved fist under her chin. If he was going to say something, it was lost as the children interrupted.

  “Now you can come riding with us!” Willie called, having helped Ruby down.

  She pulled her chin from Douglas’s hand and sidled sideways, away from him and his damned horse.

  “Great!” she shouted back to Willie, trying to sound more enthusiastic than she was.

  Ruby ran toward her. “You and me need horses!”

  She took her niece’s hand and without a backward glance, started leading her to the house.

  “We’re a little ways off from that, Ruby-girl,” she said loud enough for Douglas to hear and she knew he heard because she could hear his chuckle.

  It took every bit of willpower she had not to turn back and, at the very least, poke her tongue out at him.

  Instead, she set her shoulders, mentally shook off the warmth that had stolen into her body, ignoring the ice that she knew was melting from around her heart and headed resolutely to the house.

  She still had the scent of his cologne in her nostrils and she knew she was losing ground fast.

  In fact, she knew she was just plain losing.

  The problem was, it felt like winning.

  * * * * *

  Douglas was not happy.

  In fact, he was angry.

  Not at his stubborn, pig-headed bride-to-be or at least not because she was stubborn and pig-headed. That, he found, was actually a rather endearing trait of hers.

  True, he would have preferred Julia to be spending her time choosing flower arrangements, drafting wedding invitations and spending long nights squirming under him as he did all of the delicious things he fully intended to do to her. Not spending her time engaging in a head-to-head battle with him for her body, heart and soul. However, he was enjoying the battle, mainly because he knew he was winning and the interim was just sweet anticipation. Anticipation that caused a slow ache that he knew would be magnificently fulfilled once he eventually triumphed.

  No, he was angry because of the unknown Tony.

  And he was further annoyed because of his mother. He’d just put down the phone from talking to her.

  She wanted to come home to Sommersgate.

  Now was most definitely not the time for Monique’s return.

  In fact, Douglas had decided, there was never going to be a time for Monique to return.

  Unfortunately, when he told this to his mother and, considering the frequency he, Julia and the children needed the Kensington house, informed her as well that she would need to find elsewhere to live, Monique had flown into a rage.

  He listened to her tirade witho
ut reaction and then said, “Sam will find a few flats for you to look at in London, choose one.”

  “A flat? You want me to live in a flat?” she snapped, acting as if he told her he’d find her a nice cardboard box on a relatively safe street corner.

  Douglas didn’t answer.

  “Am I to have any say on this flat?” she seethed.

  “If you have requirements, call Sam tomorrow morning.”

  He was finished with the conversation and although she spluttered and raged for several more minutes, he eventually finished the call. Monique, being Monique, would not take his actions without a fight but whatever she did, he knew he could handle.

  However, he had bigger things to worry about because, tonight, Julia was out with Tony.

  Tony, apparently, was a friend from Indianapolis who was in Bristol for some business.

  Tony, apparently, was a beloved acquaintance that had Julia in throes of ecstasy at seeing again.

  Tony, definitely, was a man.

  It was nearly ten and Julia had left the house at five to meet Tony (the man) for drinks and dinner. Carter had taken her and she was to call when she wanted to come home. The children were all in bed and Douglas felt that any responsible guardian should have long since returned, preferably around six.

  Therefore, in Douglas’s mind, she was late. Very late. Even unforgivably late.

  He was just about to go find Carter, ask where she was and bring her home, kicking and screaming if he had to, when the man himself knocked on the study door.

  “Sir?” Carter called.

  Douglas’s head came up.

  “Miss Julia phoned, she’s ready to come home. The problem is, the Bentley has a flat tire. It’ll be awhile to fix so I wondered if I could use the –”

  Instantly, Douglas surged to his feet and stated, “I’ll get her.”

  He grabbed his keys, Carter explained that she was at the South American restaurant that Douglas introduced her to and she’d be waiting on the pavement in twenty minutes.

  It took all of his willpower not to speed through the winding roads to Bristol. He did this because the last thing Julia and the children needed was for him to crash his car. Further, if he were to crash his car, he would also miss the opportunity to wring Julia’s neck.

  Or make her pay in a decidedly more pleasurable way.

  He parked his Jag on the double yellow lines outside the restaurant and saw her immediately, standing out on the pavement as she promised. She was wearing a pair of her close-fitting jeans, high-heeled boots and a military-style, cranberry-coloured, velvet jacket. She had a woolly scarf wrapped round and round her neck and a matching fitted cap pulled snug on her head, forcing her thick blonde hair to press lushly around her face.

  She also had her arm linked through the arm of a tall, lean, bald man and she was leaning into him like she wanted him to absorb her.

  Douglas gritted his teeth and did his best to control the rampaging jealousy he was experiencing as he exited the car and stalked toward them.

  Tony was one of those bald men who actually looked good bald, he was expensively dressed and exceptionally groomed.

  None of this benefited Douglas’s mood.

  Julia noticed Douglas approach and, to his shock, her face lit up in a smile.

  “Douglas! Yay!” she shouted and pulled away long enough to clap her hands several times, claps that were muted by the wool mittens she wore. Then she stopped abruptly and half-stumbled, half-collapsed into her friend.

  Douglas ignored her bizarre behaviour, figuring she was going to try to score a point by rubbing his face in her relationship with this Tony. But as he finally arrived at the couple, she surprised him by immediately disengaging from Tony and linking her arm through Douglas’s. She then leaned into him and he had to brace himself as he took on most of her weight.

  “Tony, now you get to meet Douglas!” she announced happily as if this was her most fervent wish and then she swung her face to his, her green eyes sparkling. “I’ve been talking about you.”

  Douglas didn’t know what to say because he had no clue what she said.

  He regarded the pair warily, uncertain of her mood.

  She gestured vaguely between the two men. “Tony, Douglas,” then she paused and said, “Douglas, Tony.” And then she giggled as if this was tremendously funny.

  Tony was smiling indulgently at her and came forward to give Douglas a warm handshake.

  “Mojitos,” he said in an effort to explain Julia’s strange behaviour.

  “Ah,” was the only way Douglas could reply.

  “If you’re trying to say I’m drunk, Tony Harrison, then… well, you’d be right!” Julia cried, turned to Douglas, pressed her breasts against his arm and lifted happy eyes to his. “I love mojitos.”

  “I’ll have to remember that,” Douglas murmured, trying to ignore her soft body and failing miserably.

  His comment made Julia giggle which made Tony’s grin widen.

  “You better get her home, I’ll be seeing you,” Tony said and Julia jerked awkwardly away from Douglas and lurched back into Tony’s arms, hugging him tightly with her arms around his neck.

  “I miss you, Tony.” Douglas could hear the catch in her voice and, for some reason, it made his chest tighten.

  “I miss you too, babe,” Tony gave her a firm squeeze and then let her go, guiding her carefully back to Douglas who again felt her clamp onto his arm and lean into him heavily. “You bring her back to Indiana sometime soon, would you?”

  Douglas found it somewhat odd, and pleasingly telling, that this man was expecting him to be able to do anything with Julia. He nodded, said his good-byes and started to lead her away.

  “Oh, and Douglas,” Tony called and Douglas turned back to Tony who was grinning madly at him. “Good call with that kitten,” he finished then he tipped up his chin sharply.

  For the first time in his life, Douglas found himself in an exchange of meaningful masculine nods with another man. And after this, his earlier bad mood evaporated completely and he felt at peace with the world.

  Julia, cheerfully ignoring all this, waved gaily at Tony and hummed happily to herself as she walked somewhat unsteadily to the car and he helped her in. By the time he’d joined her, she was strapped in and babbling enthusiastically.

  “I just love that place. I’m so glad you introduced me to it. You’ll take me again soon?” Before he could answer that startling request she cried out, “Oh!” And again, before he could react she asked, apropos of nothing, “Do you know any gay men?”

  “Um… no,” Douglas replied cautiously, uncertain where she was going with this new topic of conversation and mentally reminding himself to make certain Mrs. K stocked the ingredients for mojitos in the house. He started the car and pulled away, heading toward home.

  “I’ve just had an idea!” she exclaimed brightly. “Tony said he might be here for business once or twice a year, isn’t that fabulous?” Again, she gave him no time to respond and carried on. “So, we find him an Englishman and then maybe he’ll stay here forever and we can all have barbeques again and Super Bowl parties.” He glanced at her only to see her face fall. “You don’t have the Super Bowl here, do you?”

  He didn’t answer, he didn’t need to, she reversed her displeasure and happily babbled all the way back to Sommersgate planning Fourth of July outings, fondue parties and what she called “Oscar Nights”.

  For his part, he was pleased – no, thrilled – to learn that Tony was gay.

  When he parked the car in the drive, she got out and did not hurry to the door but waited for him. Further, when he took her hand, thinking she still might need steadying (and because he damned well wanted to), she didn’t resist but walked with him, hand-in-hand to the house.

  “I’m so glad you came to get me, I hate calling on Carter,” she admitted and he found himself slowing their pace, making the walk longer so he could draw out this moment. She would come to her senses soon, her mind would kick in, t
he walls would come up and he found he was enjoying this too much to let it go.

  “Why?” he asked as he pushed the door open and they walked through it together.

  “Because it seems so, you know, servant-y.”

  Douglas laughed quietly, closing the door behind them. “Darling, essentially he is a servant.”

  She gave a faux shudder. “I can’t get used to it. To me, we’re all just family.”

  At her words, something inside him shifted and along with it the ache for her intensified, turning into need. This need was so consuming, it blurred his vision, it wiped his thoughts, all that existed in the universe was her scent, her hand holding his and the sound of her voice saying those words that still hung in the air.

  Her hand tightened in his as she tugged it gently, pulling him to a halt.

  As he looked at her upturned face, he was experiencing something he’d never felt in his life.

  He was dazed.

  Her happy face turned concerned.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” he answered distractedly.

  “Douglas?”

  “Hmm?”

  She laughed, that sexy laugh she had, low in her throat and he focused on her.

  “Why do I have the impression you’re looking at me but you aren’t seeing me?” she teased.

  She actually teased.

  He felt his body tighten as the yearning intensified.

  “I see you,” was all he said but what he meant was he saw her everywhere, in his thoughts, in his dreams, in his home, in his car, in his bed, everywhere.

  She interrupted his preoccupation. “I never properly thanked you for Fred.”

  “Fred?” He was losing it, losing the thread of the conversation, losing everything with the overwhelming desire to lift her in his arms, shackle her to his bed and do things to her that would force her to agree to bind herself to him legally and in the eyes of the children, her family, her friends and God.