by Orla Bailey
“Great idea.” He opens the passenger door for me and I don’t argue about who drives. We bump over every pothole down the farm track. “I’ll get repairs done on this road,” he muses.
“You’re planning to keep the place then?”
He glances across at me. “Who else would want it?”
He’s being cryptic again. He must know by now how much I love Lassec. It’s my last connection to the past. To Harry. And now it’s my last connection to Jack too. It’s too sad to contemplate.
We leave the car behind the farmhouse with the keys in the ignition and stroll back through the empty fields.
I know he wants to talk about recent events. I can feel him leading up to it as he comments on the land and what we have growing in the fields, the weather and every unimportant little thing he can think of to say instead. The last time we confronted the newspaper story it led to a row and separation. I promise myself things will be different now. Leaving Lassec for the final time is not an occasion for squabbles.
I invite him to begin. “What happens next?” I ask.
“I didn’t sell you out, you know. Advance get a couple more weeks to familiarise themselves with my company. It prevents them alleging unfair advantages for CaidCo in the bid for the permanent contract.”
“Sounds fair. I’m not afraid of competition, you know.” I’m talking about more than an advertising contract here.
“I didn’t think you would be. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. Did I ever tell you I have high hopes for you, Miss Caid?”
“Once or twice.” I lift my chin to read his expression from beneath my floppy hat. “Does our deal still stand?” I want to know if I’m to continue being mentored so he can teach me to be a more efficient CEO, in return for the chance to bid for Zee-Com’s account or whether being a fake fiancée changes all that.
“Recent events have rather superseded previous arrangements.”
I screw up my face. “Does that mean no?” Why is he talking to me like we’re in a boardroom already?
He laughs. “It means no, Tabby.”
“But I’ll still get the chance to bid?”
“In a couple more weeks, CaidCo and Advance will go head to head and present their proposals to my management team. You’ll be ready.”
“What happens to our weekend deal?”
“I’ll still teach you anything you need to know.” He stops and looks at me gravely. “You just won’t run from me anymore.”
“And after the bid?”
He pauses for a beat then walks on. I catch up with him.
“Whatever the outcome, I won’t make any further personal conditions. We’ll have worked out a solution to the engagement by then. You’ll be a free woman and it’ll be like we never met.”
His words leave a sour taste in my mouth. It’s the ideal solution for him. He will have kept his word to me in business. He’ll be free to marry Amanda whenever he wishes. He’ll have no personal ties to me.
But what will I have?
Hopefully a lucrative business contract which will ensure the survival and success of my company. But no Lassec, no Jack and a wholly shattered heart. I have scant few weeks to change that. Can I make Jack forget Amanda and fall in love with me? One thing I’m certain of, none of the rest matters if I don’t have Jack’s love.
As we pass by the back fields we hear a lot of noise and spot some of the farm workers and their friends having a kick around with a ball. I look up at Jack with a clear plea in my expression. It may be my last chance to see them all.
He studies me for a moment. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I deferred to him over it but he softens and nods. He takes my hand and we walk over to meet them together. The guys whoop ‘hallo’ to us as we approach. They greet us and one by one kiss me on both cheeks and shake their new boss by the hand. Everyone is friendly and full of fun and Jack slowly thaws and relaxes around them which pleases me no end.
“Alors, you return to Angleterre tomorrow?” Laurent asks him. He’s the last to hold out his hand to Jack.
Jack pauses for a second and I hold my breath. I don’t know why but it’s important to me that these two like each other. Jack’s hand emerges and they shake warmly. Laurent shows the brilliant white of his teeth in his broad sun-tanned grin.
He leans in conspiratorially towards Jack in a mock whisper which I hear clearly, as I believe I’m meant to. “She is a leetle crazy sometimes, no? But I would not let any harm come to her.” Laurent waits for Jack’s acknowledgment.
Jack slaps him on the shoulder in forgiveness and I can breathe again.
“Can we play too?” I suggest, tapping at the ball under Laurent’s arm.
“You want play the football?” Laurent looks delighted.
“Can we?” I ask Jack, mindful of acknowledging his status over both them and me. It works magically to keep things cordial.
He stares at me as if Laurent might be right and I am a little crazy. “You know how to play football?”
“Sure.” I shrug. “These are the guys who taught me.”
“Game on,” he announces and several of them cheer. I feel so happy I could burst.
We divide roughly into two teams with Jack and me on opposing sides. We glare in mock challenge before someone gives a piercing whistle through their teeth for play to begin. It’s a free-for-all. No rules, no boundaries. Everyone rushes for the ball at once.
I’m aware they’re all very careful of me. No-one kicks out when I’m anywhere near the ball and I take complete and shameless advantage of it. Jack soon relaxes when he realises I’m not about to get hurt. I often get the ball but I seldom keep it for very long. Usually some mischief-maker decides to grab me round the waist and lift me bodily out of his team’s way. For a while I look apprehensively at Jack to see if he minds the hands-on contact but he accepts it in the spirit of fun in which it’s intended.
The sadder part of me knows the reason why.
Within half an hour I’m completely exhausted and have to go sit under a tree, glugging down a third of our litre of water in one go. I suffer cat-calls and comments about lack of stamina in good part. The guys play on for ages.
It’s a rare opportunity to watch Jack. He’s fit and athletic and although he makes his living in an office and not on the land, he gives these guys a run for their money. I cheer enthusiastically whenever he scores what counts for a goal in this knockabout game. My team jokingly accuse me of being a traitor, both for letting them be one man down and for supporting the opposition.
I gesture in a manner they understand and endure whistles and comments about l’amour as a result. I wonder just how much of their ripe and fruity farm French, Jack is able to follow. Not as much as me, I suspect. He frowns gently when I blush at some of the things they suggest Jack has done to guarantee such loyalty. It’s amazing I have any sensibilities left at all, growing up around such earthy males. Or perhaps it’s because of it.
Finally the game draws to a close. Jack is dusty, sweaty and exhausted but never looked sexier to me. The team members shake hands sportingly and congratulate one another. I drift back to say my final goodbyes.
Laurent goes off to pick up the ball, tossing it to one of the others and comes over to me last. Jack and he shake hands again.
“Bon voyage, mon ami.”
Jack wanders off to fetch the water bottle and downs plenty. He leaves me and Laurent to have our moment of farewell alone. I like to think it’s pretty decent of him knowing how he felt when he first arrived.
Laurent turns to me, takes me by the shoulders and looks earnestly into my eyes. “Take care of yourself, leetle sister.”
I understand exactly what Laurent is saying. He sees right through me with his inbred Gallic awareness of all things male to female. “I will. I’ll miss you, Laurent.”
“Passion is an envious beast,” he says bizarrely.
Laurent kisses me on one cheek then kisses me on the other. He winks at me, whispers something abo
ut prodding the sleeping tiger then stares across at Jack who is standing well apart. Laurent carefully, slowly and deliberately moves his head towards mine. He holds the back of my skull in his hand and dips me dramatically backwards over his arm, planting his mouth firmly over mine in what must look to Jack like a kiss of undying passion.
I’m horrified. I pull away and swing round to face Jack who is staring stony faced. Laurent laughs gleefully and runs off to catch up with the others. He raises his fist in triumphant farewell.
I creep back to Jack. “It’s devilment. He really is like a brother to me,” I whisper lamely. I could kick Laurent. He doesn’t know Jack like I do.
Jack doesn’t speak to me. He takes my arm, shoves my hat back on my head and marches me onwards. He strides out in silence towing me behind. The sun sinks rapidly in the sky as a rich orange glow covers everything in a rare beauty but I can’t enjoy any of it for feeling I’ve just spoilt something precious.
After ten minutes of the silent treatment I’ve had enough. I yank my arm from his grip, snatch the bottle of water from his hand, unscrew the cap and take a drink. I offer it to Jack who shakes his head. We go through the motions in silence. Perhaps I am crazy. I certainly seem to be deranged when I’m around Jack. I turn the rest of the water straight down my front, throwing the empty bottle to the ground.
Jack watches, stunned, as if he’s wondering what trick I could possibly perform next to astonishment him.
I decide to show him. Crossing my arms over, I clasp the hem of my dress and raise it over my head wriggling out of it, thrusting my naked breasts out as I do. His eyes travel slowly down my body, returning the opposite way even slower and I stand very still until he’s finished. I throw the garment after the bottle and walk on in only shoes and panties. Jack doesn’t move a muscle for a second.
“Don’t worry,” I murmur, like a flirt, over my naked shoulder. “He doesn’t want me any more than you do.” I walk on, exaggerating the sway of my hips. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I decide. I don’t know what it is about the Brittany air this time round but I’ve turned into a complete tease.
I hear Jack immediately behind me. He pulls me round and lifts me off the path into the seclusion of the trees, halting beneath the shade of a full-leaved chestnut.
His Arctic blues bore right through me. “I want you,” he growls. His mouth takes mine, trying to drive the memory of Laurent’s kiss away.
I think kissing Laurent is like cuddling a naughty kitten whereas kissing Jack is like taming a Bengal tiger. His growl rumbles through me driving me before him with wild abandon. I claw at his shirt, ripping it open as his hands cover my breasts and mould themselves around them. His touch is harsh and punishing and exactly what I need right now to dispel my frustration with him and me.
I run urgent fingers over his chest where his skin glows from the still heat of the dying sun and the exercise he’s taken. It’s damp to the touch and each swell and dip inflames me further. Using the tip of my tongue, I lift the beads of salty sweat from his skin. His strength against my gentleness, his hardness against my soft curves, his roughness against my sensitivity all work to fuel my desire. Soon, I’m tingling with raw need.
His scent envelops me. I can smell the primitive urge to mate.
I don’t care if he doesn’t love me. It’s enough that I love him. It’s enough that he wants my body like I want his. I leap at him and he catches me as I wrap my legs around his hips. His tongue plunders my hot mouth and I suck it inside until he crushes me against the trunk of the tree. The rough bark scours my flesh when I arch my pelvis into him.
My arms wrap tightly round his neck and he carries me down with him to the soft cool grass. He covers my body heavily with his and pushes me slowly into the ground as if he would make me part of the living earth. I give way beneath him.
“I want you,” he mumbles into my neck. He lifts his head to stare into my eyes. “Any man that looks at you is my rival. Anyone that touches you is my enemy.”
He claims me again. So possessive. I am his property. He will not tolerate me giving away any part of me that he believes belongs to him. This is what confuses me so much.
“If I’m yours then take me.” I want only to be his.
He moves down my body kissing and stroking. It’s as if he wants to place fingerprints all over me. Cover me in DNA. When he bites into my flesh he makes sure I’m marked, sucking my inner thigh hard enough to make me whimper yet unwilling to stop. I don’t care. I tear at his hair and still he continues.
He raises his head and snarls at me. “You will know you’re mine.” He’s like a ravening wolf claiming fresh kill.
“How will I know?” I taunt him with words as he taunts me with his body.
He rips the panties down my legs and I squirm to remove them beneath the strength of his feral attack. I have only enough time to pull one ankle free.
“Leave it.” He kneels between my open legs in a second.
He knows I’m ready for him by instinct, by experience. When he palms his hot erect flesh and looks at me wildly, I will him to me and wait. But I see the harsh mask of control descend over his features. This is the Boss. And I don’t know him.
I thrust my hips upwards demanding.
“Will I leave you like this to punish you?”
The Boss is cruel. He understands my fears. He knows how to test me. He knows my weaknesses. But I’m changing. I won’t give him the chance. I scramble to my knees, push him backwards and straddle him. I place my hand over his closed fist, teasing and tempting his flesh as we battle silently for control. I’m learning my own power.
I adjust position until I feel the heat of his body. Slick with longing, I need him inside me. I negotiate with everything I have.
“Take me, Jack. Make me yours.” I moan and twitch as his thumb sweeps across my sensitive nerves claiming supremacy over me.
“I can keep you like this forever,” he warns. He sounds wounded. Have I hurt him? Laurent’s kiss was no more my fault than Ben Gunn’s. Or is Jack’s wild reaction part of something greater, that I just don’t understand?
I lose my nerve to bargain. “I need you.”
My arms snake round him and I pull myself into him. I tease mercilessly with my tongue at his bristled throat, with my fingers scratching his hard nipples. I undulate in soft persuasion against his iron resolve. But he resists everything I have. He wants me to understand his greater power over me.
“What do you want from me, Tabitha?”
“Everything.” It’s the only truth I know.
“Then have it. Bleed me dry.”
He enters fast. Each prevailing thrust throws me upwards but he claws me back down over him again. And again. He drives me to the brink of my mind’s annihilation.
“I want to come,” he groans the words he spoke earlier and loses his fight to resist. “With you.” His hard penetration and teasing shift of angle, sends me over the edge.
My whole body contracts and we’re together and apart at the same time falling through nothingness. As I grind my pelvis against his eruption, he intakes air between his teeth on a sharp hiss. Each muscular contraction drives him closer until he’s crushing me against him.
I cannot move. He will not. The sun sinks below the horizon and we’re locked together in dusky twilight. He doesn’t kiss me or caress me when he pulls away but pushes me to my feet and stands adjusting his clothing. I look around for my dress.
“You wanted to walk back naked,” he reminds me.
So I am being punished and I’m not exactly sure what for. He’s too smart for me. How can I argue when I don’t know what it is I should protest? I begin to think any plans I might formulate to make Jack love me will be more difficult to realise than I imagine. The nearer we get to returning to Belvedere the more Jack slips away. The place I ran from the Boss is the place I’ll have to confront him again. I truly do love a monster. My own personal Jekyll and Hyde: sweet Jack and the Boss he changes into.
<
br /> I pull the panties from my ankle, right them and step into them again, daring him to stop me with a glare. Although I spot it lying in the grass, I walk straight past my dress. Compromise is the best way forward for now, I decide.
He follows me all the way back. I head straight up to bed and close the door in his face but as I climb into bed he opens the door again. To my disappointment he doesn’t come in.
“We’re leaving at seven. Make sure you’re ready.” He pauses. “That’s a.m.” No mixed messages.
“Seven in the morning?” I squeak sarcastically. Punching my pillow, I flop back into it, huffing and keeping my face turned away from him. I spend the rest of the night alone for my protest.
I’ll never forget this weekend, that’s for sure. I’ve argued and cried, had a hangover, been sorrier than a sinner, laughed, discovered a feminine confidence I never knew I had and had my lust magnificently sated. Jack has shared in all of it.
And I got engaged.
If only it was real, this would have been the best weekend of my life.
If I want Jack I’m going to have one hell of a fight on my hands. But tonight, for the first time, I’m ready. He’s made me more ready than he realises. I climb out of bed and march straight to where I know Jack will be. I could find him anywhere too.
I crash through the door of the study as his eyes shoot up to meet mine. I’m still wearing nothing but panties. I slam the lid down on his laptop as I round the desk and his fingers only just escape once more. I move like a tornado.
I kiss him on the lips.
Hard.
I slap his face even harder.
“Goodnight, Jack. Seven a.m.”
I flounce out the way I came in before he knows what’s hit him. Let him wonder, this time, what he’s being punished for.
Chapter Nine
I’m awake in time to see the sun break over the horizon.
It dawns on me too, this is the last chance I’ll ever get to witness the glorious sight from the window of my bedroom at the chateau. Yet I feel a sense of calm. Uncertain if the deep and undisturbed sleep I had last night was due to fresh air and exercise, of different kinds, I got yesterday or more about my new resolve to fight for what I want, I set to packing. There’s nothing much here I’ll need in London, but I’m unlikely to be returning any time soon.