The Pleasures of Summer

by Evie Hunter

  ‘Just try it.’ She was sick of his he-man attitude. Who did Flynn think he was?

  Her eggs had barely arrived before Flynn checked his watch and drummed his fingers on the table. ‘You have exactly ten minutes to eat your breakfast. After that we’re leaving and you’ll have nothing till lunchtime.’

  He was as good as his word. Precisely ten minutes later he stood up, not caring whether she was finished or not. The man was a barbarian.

  The coffee kept her awake until she reached the Forth Bridge and after that she drifted in and out of sleep. Each time she opened her eyes, the Scottish countryside raced by at dizzying speed. Flynn allowed her to suffer in silence. Summer let her eyelids drift down again and watched him through her eyelashes.

  With each mile they travelled north, he seemed to relax more. The tight expression around his mouth was gone. Maybe it was being back in his home country, although he said that he was only half-Scottish. Flynn was a puzzle she hadn’t figured out yet. But she would.

  ‘We’re almost at Fort William,’ he announced. ‘We can take a short break.’

  Flynn glanced over at his sulking companion. She was finally coming fully awake after dozing most of the way. When she opened her eyes, it was only to glare at him, before pointedly turning her head away and gazing out at the Scottish countryside.

  After that little episode this morning, as arousing as it had been for him, there was no chance that they’d be cuddling happily before a wood fire in the croft tonight. Just as well, he decided reluctantly. Summer O’Sullivan might be sex on legs, but she was the principal and she was trouble.

  Those legs looked remarkably good in a pair of faded jeans, and her bountiful breasts filled out that pink T-shirt in a way that should be illegal. So much for his plan to make her look ordinary. Nothing would make Summer look like the girl next door. He suspected that even wearing a bin liner and boot blacking, she would still look spectacular. It didn’t help that he knew what was under those jeans. What had possessed him to set out those lacy bits of silk for her to wear?

  She shifted her legs, and he imagined how she would look in just her panties. The Jeep was warm and he caught a trace of her fragrance, all natural and uniquely Summer. His cock stirred. Down boy, you’re joining the ranks of the unemployed for the next month.

  Next time he was putting out clothes for her, he would make sure it was plain white cotton. No point torturing himself.

  Damn it. The image of Summer presenting herself to him in plain white cotton panties refused to go away. He groaned. There was nothing she could wear that wouldn’t turn him on.

  She turned at the sound, slight though it had been, and her blue eyes glittered with resentment. ‘Are you at least going to tell me where we are going?’

  ‘Turlochbeg.’

  ‘Where the hell is that?’ she demanded.

  ‘Sorry, that’s on a need-to-know basis,’ he said, enjoying her look of frustration.

  ‘I need to know,’ she snapped.

  ‘No, you don’t. If you don’t know, you can’t tell.’

  ‘Who do you think you are – the bloody secret service? You work for me; you do what I tell you.’

  ‘No, I work for your father.’ He enjoyed reminding her. ‘I promised him that I would do whatever it took to keep you safe. Whether you like it or not. The reason we are out here heading for a safe house is because you took a stupid risk.’

  She glared at him, a glare worthy of the nastiest instructor in the Wing. No doubt about it, Summer had the bossy-boots routine down pat. He longed to take her in hand and show her exactly what happened to little girls who behaved like brats.

  He kept his eyes on the road, now a narrow secondary road that wandered between the hills, and only allowed himself to watch her with his peripheral vision.

  She huffed in irritation, and then pulled her Xperia out of her pocket. Before she could switch it on, Flynn seized it out of her hand.

  ‘Hey!’ she protested. ‘That’s mine. Give it back.’ She reached over to grab it, but he held it out of her reach. Steering with his knees for a few moments, he disassembled the phone, taking out her SIM card and battery with one hand and pocketing them.

  He handed the corpse of the phone back to her. ‘Be my guest.’

  She stared at it in disbelief. ‘What did you just do? How dare you?’

  He flicked a quick glance at her. She was furious.

  ‘What’s the point of taking you to a safe house if your mobile phone tells them where you are?’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. I’m not going to phone the psycho and say “Here I am, come and get me”, am I?’

  ‘After seeing you in action, I wouldn’t put money on that. But it doesn’t matter. Your phone will give your location away. How do you think I knew you were in Noir?’

  That silenced her for all of three minutes. Then she opened her mouth again. He had to give her credit. Nothing kept Summer down for long. She had a remarkable ability to bounce back, ready to go another round. He squashed the thoughts of what he could do with that ability.

  ‘About that,’ she said carefully. ‘You looked very at home there. You seemed to know lots of people.’

  ‘Yes.’ He could see how hard she was working at keeping her temper.

  ‘Have you been there before?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Her eyes flashed. ‘What, are we playing twenty questions now?’

  Flynn laughed. ‘If you like. Keep going.’

  ‘Are you a member?’

  ‘I may have let my membership lapse, but yeah.’

  She sucked in a breath. ‘Are you a Master, like Robert?’ she asked in a rush.

  He flicked her a glance. ‘No. Robert’s an asshole. I’m a Dom. And I’m not the only kinky one in this Jeep, am I?’

  ‘I have no idea what you mean.’ Her prim tone didn’t fool him for a moment.

  ‘Summer.’ She looked around at his change of tone. ‘That spanking at the club was just a warm-up. If you do anything so dangerous again, you can expect worse.’

  She stared at him as if he had sprouted horns. ‘Are you saying that you would spank me again?’

  ‘If necessary.’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘I would.’

  She flicked her hair at him. ‘You are so full of it. Do your worst.’

  Whatever she saw in his eyes silenced her. Ignoring him, she stared out the window and developed a strong interest in the passing scenery.

  The road climbed as they reached the Highlands, and the stark countryside was softened by grass, gorse and heather. Flynn took a deep breath. The air up here was clean and fresh. Even though he had been born in the Rotunda hospital in Dublin and served in the Irish Rangers, he still felt that sense of homecoming when he reached the Highlands. The wildness of the landscape echoed something inside him.

  The turn-off wasn’t signposted, but he didn’t need it. He knew where he was going. Summer’s eyes widened as they turned off the road onto one that was even narrower, a single lane dirt track with grass going up the middle. ‘You’re joking, right?’ she said.

  He shook his head and concentrated on negotiating the rutted track. He knew Niall had put a few bottles of scrumpy into the back of the Jeep along with basic supplies, and Flynn didn’t want them to explode from being shaken.

  When Flynn pulled up at the croft, Summer blinked, then turned to stare at him. ‘Now I know you’re kidding me. This is like the worst joke of all time.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, this is it. Home sweet home.’

  Flynn climbed out of the Jeep and strolled around to the back, whistling as he walked. He was unpacking. This wasn’t a joke. They were really going to stay here?

  The rough stone cottage looked as if it hadn’t been occupied for years. The paint on the door was badly chipped and one of the windows had a crack that zigzagged from top to bottom. He couldn’t mean it. They would be living on top of each other. The pool house in London was bigger than this … this
heap.

  ‘Grab a box, will you?’ Flynn shouted over his shoulder.

  ‘Carry it yourself. I don’t want to break another nail.’

  Flynn turned. ‘Summer, I’m your bodyguard. I have to keep my hands free at all times. Now, fetch the box.’

  Muttering under her breath, she went to the back of the Jeep and hefted out a cardboard box. She watched as Flynn pushed his way into the cottage. It wasn’t locked. How could it be a safe house if it didn’t even have a lock on the front door? She followed him inside. A large cobweb brushed against her hair and she screamed and shook her head, trying to brush it away. Summer blinked, trying to adjust to the lack of light.

  Flynn grabbed it, and dropped her on a rough-hewn table and a cloud of dust rose into the air. ‘Make yourself at home.’

  ‘Home? This is your home?’ She could barely get the words out. Flynn was joking. Any minute now he would laugh.

  He wasn’t smiling.

  Summer stared into the dim recesses of the cottage. The ground floor consisted of one room. A large stone fireplace took up half of one wall. An iron hook was suspended over the hearth and on it hung a blackened cauldron. She had seen one just like it in photographs of her great-grandmother’s house. There was no cooker. No shiny microwave oven. No stainless steel floor-to-ceiling fridge, just a deep Belfast sink with a single tap. A rickety wooden ladder led to a loft.

  Flynn looked around as if seeing it for the first time. ‘You’re probably thinking that it needs a bit of work,’ he said, without a trace of irony.

  ‘Work? It needs to be demolished.’

  ‘My great-grandmother gave birth to four children here. This croft has been in the family since 1745.’

  ‘And it obviously hasn’t been redecorated since then. Take me home.’

  The look he gave her was frankly dangerous. ‘For the next month, this is your home. Now get the rest of the stuff from the Jeep while I get the fire started. It gets a bit chilly here at night.’

  Jeep. The Jeep! Why hadn’t she thought of that? Flynn could play at being king of the wild frontier; she was heading for the nearest five-star hotel. She allowed her shoulders to slump in defeat. ‘Fine, but I need the bathroom first.’

  His mouth was twitching again and that usually meant that something nasty was coming. ‘Be my guest. It’s this way.’

  She hadn’t noticed the other doorway behind the ladder. It creaked as he opened it outwards onto an overgrown path behind the cottage. Twenty feet away was a small tin hut. Some wit had painted the word ‘spa’ in red paint on the door.

  With a murderous glance in his direction, she strode up the path. Kill him. She wanted to kill him.

  Flynn whistled. ‘Hey, Princess, you might need this.’

  A roll of toilet paper sailed through the air, landing in a patch of nettles beside her. As she scrambled to retrieve it, she could hear Flynn’s laughter echoing in the hills behind. He was going to pay for this.

  Summer waited until she was sure he was inside the cottage then she retraced her steps, crouching low when she neared the window. He probably wouldn’t see her through the glass anyway, it was so filthy.

  She opened the door of the Jeep and slid into the driver’s seat. It had been a while since she had driven something this ancient. She eyed the gear stick, hoping she remembered how to drive stick shift. Summer reached for the ignition. There were no keys. She looked around her, checking the glove compartment, behind the sun visor. They weren’t here.

  ‘Looking for these?’ Flynn dangled the leather key fob in front of her.

  ‘Did anyone ever tell you that you were a bastard?’

  ‘Frequently.’ Flynn grinned at her. ‘It’s almost a term of affection. Now, stop messing around and get the rest of the stuff.’

  He sauntered away, carrying the dark holdall she remembered from London. Could life get any better? She was stuck in the wilds of god knows where with a man who wouldn’t travel anywhere without his gun.

  She struggled into the croft, carrying a cardboard box of what felt like weights. Summer huffed a breath as she slid the box onto the table. Curiosity got the better of her and she opened the lid. Tins of soup, meat and vegetables stared back at her. She pulled out one tin. The cheerful yellow label announced that it was alphabet spaghetti in tomato sauce. Great. All she needed now was a white rabbit.

  ‘I need to set up the perimeter alerts,’ Flynn said. He took a handful of short metal posts from his bag. They had something electronic on top of them.

  ‘What is that?’ she asked. She had never seen anything like them before.

  ‘They’ll warn us if anyone approaches.’

  She must have looked puzzled.

  ‘They’re a bit like breaking the electronic line when you win a race. They’ll trigger an alarm.’ He headed outside with them.

  ‘I need to lie down,’ she said to herself.

  Summer looked around her. Bedroom. She hadn’t thought about sleeping arrangements. There was barely room to swing a cat down here. That only left …

  She eyed the rickety ladder. It was too much to hope that there was a king sized bed with an en suite up there. There was no point in putting it off.

  The open platform overlooked the room below. A large wooden chest sat against the gable wall of the house. On top of it was a dusty china basin and matching jug; the cheerful red roses were at odds with the rest of the cabin. A cracked shaving mirror completed the facilities. Worst of all was the iron frame resting against one wall. It gave the phrase ‘making the bed’ a whole new meaning. Flynn would have to put it together before they could sleep.

  Downstairs she heard him whistling cheerfully as he stacked the tins on a shelf beside the sink. Summer sank down onto a low, three-legged stool. She was in the middle of a nightmare. A month in the country? More like a month in hell. Tears pricked behind her eyelids but she wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  Flynn probably thought it was hilarious. Well, he could laugh on the other side of his face. Compared with what she had been through the previous year, this was nothing. She could almost hear her father’s voice. This was a skirmish, nothing more. The war was still waiting to be won.

  14

  She was still planning her strategy for getting away from Flynn and back to civilization when he called from below. Downstairs was too grand a name for it. ‘Dinner is served.’

  Was he serious? He hadn’t had time to cook. She peeked down and saw that he had scrubbed down the table and there was something on it. She considered staying where she was just to make the point that he couldn’t push her around, but it had been a long time since breakfast.

  Summer climbed down the ladder, holding her breath at the creaking of the rungs, and very conscious of Flynn’s eyes on her ass as she descended.

  Flynn whistled. ‘Very nice. You have great legs. And a great arse. And –’

  ‘If you’re quite finished.’ Summer gave him an icy glare, channelling her father, who could make grown men shrivel with a glance. She wondered if she should have let him say what the other great thing was, then pulled herself up. She had no intention of spending a month here with this oaf, but for whatever short time she was here, she was going to make it clear that she was in charge.

  ‘I haven’t even started, sweetheart,’ he assured her.

  She refused to react to the promise in that statement. He was so not her type, and he was going to learn that. It didn’t matter a damn what he looked like naked, or that he could reduce her to quivering jelly when he –. She cut off that line of thought. Not the time or place. He had been horrible to her. He had thrown her into a shower and tried to make her eat porridge this morning. It would never be the time or place again.

  ‘I hope you’re hungry,’ he said.

  She was, and could have cheerfully eaten live bugs or whatever rotten things they served up on reality jungle shows. But the sight of the table laid out in front of her almost killed her appetite. There was crispbread, tinne
d tuna, vacuum-packed ham, a couple of slightly shrivelled apples and a bottle of scrumpy. That was probably warm.

  ‘That’s it?’ She stared at the meal in disbelief. ‘This is the best you could come up with?’

  He shrugged, unperturbed. ‘Most of that stuff needs cooking and I reckoned you wouldn’t want to wait while I chopped wood, cleaned the chimney and lit a fire. Think of it as a picnic.’

  ‘That’s your idea of a picnic? I bet you never get a second date, do you?’

  He grinned. ‘Oh, I get some, but it’s not the food they’re after.’

  She ignored that – damn it, she had already had a sample of why a girl would come back for a second date with him, and she was not going to go there. There was one chair whose wickerwork seat still looked usable. It would be all the better for a good scrubbing, so Summer picked up Flynn’s jacket, laid it across the seat, and sat down.

  Flynn pulled up a stool and sat on it. He should have looked ridiculous, but still managed to generate an air of danger.

  Ignoring the tuna and ham, she bit into an apple and chewed with relish. Even warm, it was the best thing she had eaten all day, and she closed her eyes in appreciation of the scented sweetness.

  She opened them to find Flynn staring at her through half-closed lids. His mouth was set in a sensual line that caused her stomach to do an unexpected flip. He had no right to be as handsome as he was. Bodyguards were supposed to be unobtrusive, not look like a teenager’s fantasy.

  To cover her reaction, she picked up the bottle and took a slug. The rough bite of the scrumpy took her by surprise, catching the back of her throat and setting it on fire. She coughed. ‘What is that?’ she wheezed, her eyes watering.

  ‘Niall’s homemade scrumpy. Nothing will convince him it’s not haute cuisine and will be a huge seller.’

  For a moment, she met his eyes in appalled understanding. The idea that anyone would like this rotgut was hilarious. She took another bite of her apple to scrub the taste from her mouth. The combination of scrumpy and apple worked surprisingly well.