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  The lady to my right, a larger lady dressed entirely in black with pearls draped around her neck—a departure from the seemingly staple shirt and gilet—leans into my ear. “That’s the Duchess.”

  “Thank you, erm...”

  “Florence.” She seems to be the only sincere one at the table. “Try not to let this lot get to you,” she whispers. “They’re all after Gregory. They’re like wolves for money and the fact he’s a young strapping body and a fine face to match sends them into a frenzy.”

  “No hope of me winning them over, then?”

  “Would you want to?” She chortles, a short-lived sound that makes her stomach wobble.

  “Probably not. But it’d make my day and night a little easier.”

  “You’re not part of their circle, darling, I’m afraid they won’t be making it easy for you.”

  “They’re about to start,” the Duchess announces, in a voice that matches her frailty, when she finally reaches our table.

  “Come on, Scarlett,” Charlotte chirps, dancing out of her seat.

  “Are you coming?” I ask Florence who’s sipping her tea.

  “Oh good Lord, no! After thirty-odd years of marriage you’ll get bored of watching it. I’ll be happier here.”

  We make our way up the hill to where a group of English Foxhounds are being controlled by two men in red blazers and hard black, velour-effect hats. The other hunters come cantering towards the pack, all dressed in black blazers, cream jodhpurs and black hats fastened beneath their chin. I scour the faces and eventually find my strapping knight, sitting with pride atop his stallion. Mr. Darcy really has nothing on Gregory Ryans.

  “Gregory looks as good as ever.” The whisper finds my ears but I turn left and right and can’t locate the owner.

  “It’s so exciting!” Charlotte says, giving my shoulder a giddy nudge. It really isn’t but I smile at her before locating my knight again.

  Those sparkling brown eyes are looking right at me. You okay? he mouths. I nod and curl my lips as high as I can force them. He doesn’t need to know I’m having an utterly shit morning, being talked about both behind my back and to my face and thrown daggers by rich women in expensive clone clothes, one of whom just happens to be Stella, who I’ve already come to despise.

  A third man in a red blazer holds a black stick in the air and everyone, including the pack of hounds, falls silent. “The scent has been laid. Let us commence the season. Good hunting fellows.” With that, the Foxhounds head out with the red coats. Gregory knocks his heels into his stallion and sets off, flanked by Williams, with the rest of the pack.

  We stand, some women doing far too overzealous waves, until the hunt is out of sight. “Gosh, that was fun.” Charlotte is back at my side, smiling in the way Williams does, charmingly, defying any person not to smile back. “Should we go back to breakfast?”

  “Actually, Charlotte, I was thinking about taking a walk around the grounds.”

  “Good idea. I’ll come with you.”

  I know I need to smarten up my miserable face but I really have no desire to be here. “Excellent.”

  She thrusts her arm through mine as I walk with my hands in the pockets of my gilet. We make our way past the house, to the lake and into the fields beyond, strolling leisurely, intentionally killing time.

  “My brother said you’re a lawyer?”

  “Yes, I am. I work for him sometimes.”

  “He said. And that’s how you met Gregory?”

  “Yes.”

  We both turn sharply when the water feature shoots high into the sky and sprays down into the lake behind us. “What do you do?”

  “I’m in my final year of uni. I’m studying Classics so God knows what I’ll do when I graduate.” She laughs.

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  “Mmm, yep, but I’m ready to leave. Did you feel like that towards the end?”

  “I guess so. I was looking forward to working and making my own money. Funny.”

  “Why’s that funny?”

  “Because given the chance, I’d go back. Life’s much easier at uni. You’ve got the rest of your life to work long hours.”

  “But you enjoy being a lawyer?”

  “Yes, mostly. It has its moments.”

  She nods thoughtfully. “I think I’m ready to be out of my parents’ control and my brother’s shadow. My parents think he did everything right and I do everything wrong.” Now her head is shaking. “He drank, he had sex, he did whatever but it’s different with me. If they even think that I’m doing something wrong, even though Eddie probably did it, I’m hauled over the coals. It really pisses me off. What pisses me off more is that I listen to them too. My friends will be going out, doing whatever, and I think, what would my parents say? I just want to go a little crazy, you know?”

  I nod. We walk until the house is almost out of sight, only the tallest peaks poking through trees behind us. “You could probably have a worse big brother. Williams is pretty cool.”

  “When he’s not being uptight.”

  Williams uptight. There’s a rarity. My mind wanders to Amanda. Maybe she brings out light-hearted Williams.

  It’s starting to drop cold, the November sun being replaced with an increasingly grey sky. “We should head back.”

  The concierge, in period dress like the rest of them, shows me to our room, guiding me along the dark stone corridors which are lit romantically with five prong candelabras and soft wall lights. He opens the bedroom door with an enormous black key, then places it in my hand and leaves me to my own devices.

  The room is amazing. It’s got a medieval feel. A large four-post bed stands proudly in the middle. The walls are adjourned with luxurious, deep red fabric. The bed is laid with red and gold silk, a black velour throw swept across the bottom. The furniture is dark antique-looking wood—a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, an ottoman and two bedside cabinets. I open a door and walk along a short corridor, flanked by decoratively carved wardrobes, then I reach the bathroom. It must be half the size of the main room. A large free-standing ceramic bath takes centre stage with little else in the room. I open a door to the right which leads to a big mirror and his-and-hers sinks. Beyond the sinks, another door opens into a wet room with a monsoon shower. This is incredible.

  My iPhone beeps, drawing me back to the bedroom to find it. A missed call and two messages from Amanda.

  Are you having fun?

  Then an hour later.

  So is Ed there?

  Just fun my arse! If she’d just stop being so stubborn and admit what’s blatantly obvious, she could be here to save me from the torture of a night with these women who want to throw daggers at me.

  He’s here. With his sister. She’s nice. I wish you were here.

  She fires back a message as if she’s been staring at her phone waiting for my response.

  He said he was taking someone. He didn’t tell me it was his sister! Not that I’m bothered. I have a date.

  A date with who?

  His name is Alex. Hot.

  I laugh to myself, shaking my head. She’s desperate for me to tell Williams.

  Have fun then. Let me know how it goes.

  * * *

  Charlotte and I reach the start point just as the hunt is returning. Gregory and Williams are laughing together as they ride back side by side. How can he manage to be so calm when I feel like the world is crashing down around me? The red coat who commenced the hunt calls “farewell” to the huntsmen. The other red coats guide the pack of hounds away and the hunters begin to dismount.

  Gregory stalks towards me on his horse, halting in front of me, his fine self towering. He removes his helmet and pulls a hand through his dark hair, ruffling some life back into it.

  “Get here,” he says to me in that way he
does.

  “Up there? You’ve got to be kidding!”

  The horse plods towards me and turns so I’m looking at Gregory’s boot. He shuffles back on the saddle. “Turn around.”

  With a frown, I do as he instructs and turn my back on the horse. Then I’m hauled up by my arms on a girly squeal. I lift my leg and I’m placed down between Gregory’s pelvis and the front of the saddle. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “It’s so high!”

  “High is best, Scarlett, I’ve told you this.” He plants his helmet on my head and turns me to face him. He tightens the strap under my chin and pulls my hair over my shoulders. “I didn’t think anyone could look good in one of these. I was mistaken.”

  He kisses me chastely on the lips then kicks his heels into the horse and we shoot away from the stares and whispers of the group, into the dusk. Gregory holds the reins around me and presses his chest into my back. The wind bellows in my face as we ride faster, so fast I feel like I’m flying. I should be terrified. I’ve never ridden a horse, let alone ridden one at this speed. But I couldn’t be more content, I couldn’t feel safer, wrapped in his arms.

  “Whoa, boy.” Gregory tugs the reins as he talks to the stallion and our pace falls to a trot. He guides us to a tree where he commands the horse to stop. He turns my head to face him and relieves me of the helmet, reaching for a branch above him and clipping the helmet to it.

  Moving my hair across one shoulder, he presses his lips to my neck, sucking, nibbling. “I want to make you happy, baby. I want to see you smile.”

  This is what I want. Only him, just us.

  I lean back into his chest giving him easier access to my skin. His mouth glides up my neck, along my jaw and meets mine.

  “You do make me happy.”

  “Turn around.” Guiding me and taking my weight with his hands on my hips, he helps me manoeuvre unsteadily until we’re face to face.

  He pulls me towards him and takes my mouth, our tongues indulging in the taste of one another. He holds the branch above us with one hand, steadying himself as he lifts my legs around his waist. I pull back to see his face, stunning in the last fading light of the day, his dark, lust-filled eyes locked on mine. With balled fists gripping his blazer, I pull him to me. He releases the branch and drops both hands to my back as my hips roll against his.

  With one hand, he unbuttons my chinos and cups me over my thong, drawing a gasp of air from my chest. His tongue continues to tease mine as he moves the lace to one side and slides two fingers into me. I drop my head back when his thumb circles my clit.

  “Look at me.” Forcing my head forward I open my eyes to his smoky gaze.

  He takes my mouth aggressively and absorbs each of my groans.

  Yes, this is definitely what I want. These moments when he sees and feels nothing but me. When I’m his, completely. This is the place where everything makes sense.

  I drop my hand to his waist and unfasten him, moving my hand inside his boxers, feeling his arousal. I move my thumb through his first wet bead, gliding around his tip. Now we’re both panting. He pulls my bottom lip through his teeth and pushes his fingers deeper into me.

  “Let me watch you.” He words are husky as his eyes fall to my entrance.

  Leaning back on one hand, I lower the other to my sex and draw a deep breath when I feel myself, slick with excitement. My fleeting embarrassment disappears when I push my fingers where Gregory’s have just been. Gregory moves his own hand to his shaft and tugs up and down, watching me intently. The sight of him feeling himself, building himself, knowing that watching me do the same has this effect on him, is enough alone to take me to the brink.

  I struggle against the desire to let my head fall and my eyes close, not because he’ll demand that I look at him but because I can’t peel my gaze away from the scene unfolding in front of me. I’m panting heavily. I can feel my muscles tightening around my fingers, gripping, begging for more.

  “You look so fucking hot, Scarlett.” He speeds up his strokes and bites his bottom lip. “Tell me how it feels.”

  I struggle to speak. “It feels good. Warm and wet. My clit is hard. But I’m aching. I wish it was you moving in and out of me, reaching the end of me, filling me the way only you can.” It feels alien to talk like this but it’s how he makes me feel: crazed, seductive. “I’m hungry for you, Gregory. I want to see you come.”

  I lift my pelvis, pushing back against my fingers, craving more, and I groan with desperation.

  “Jesus, Scarlett, what you do to me.” He works himself harder, his rhythm disjointed. His tip glistens with pre-cum. Watching him unravel is my undoing. I push my fingers as deep as I can and quicken the pace. “I’m ready, Gregory.”

  “Together.” He pumps faster as my hips rise. “Fuck! Now, Scarlett.”

  I throw my head back, unable to match his stare, and cry out into the night. I’m still pulsing when he pulls me towards him and lifts my shirt, releasing himself all over my stomach. He pulls my back forward and I drape my satisfied arms around him, letting my head fall into his neck as his throbs lessen against my moist navel.

  I don’t unwrap myself from him as he fastens me back into my trousers. He smears himself across my stomach with his hand then pulls my shirt back down. Reluctantly, I lean back and let him tuck himself back into his bottoms.

  “Let’s turn you back around, lady.” He lifts my hips to help me fumble around again then plants his helmet back on my head.

  “I feel bad for the horse,” I mumble as we trot away from the tree.

  “He’ll get over it.” Then he kicks his heels and I squeal as we fly back in the direction of the house.

  Kian is waiting by the horse box when we get back, most of the others dispersing or already gone. “Good hunt, sir?”

  “Yes, thanks, Kian. You prepared him well.”

  I swing a leg so both are on one side of the horse and let Gregory lower me by my underarms to the ground before he jumps down himself. He pats the horse before Kian takes over control. I watch as he strips down to his boxers under the light of the horse box, his toned body making me wanton again. He really has turned me into an insatiable temptress and I enjoy every second of it.

  “Like what you see?” he says on a smirk as he fastens his belt buckle over his jeans then pulls his Barbour jacket over his jumper.

  “Always,” I say, returning my teeth to my bottom lip.

  Shaking his head, he says, “Come on.” He lifts his arm and I tuck into his side beneath it.

  “What happens now?” I ask.

  “Now it’s brandy and cigars to debrief.”

  My face contorts at the thought. “Is there an alternative option? Brandy isn’t my favourite.”

  “No, baby, it’s just the men.”

  “Oh. So I get to hang out with all the women who want to fuck you again?”

  “Hey! Is there any need for the French?”

  “I’m sorry, I just like our bubble. Breakfast was horrible, Gregory, they looked at me like I have ten heads and it’s clear all those women want you. I know I sound petulant but—”

  He halts us and turns me to face him but I’d rather look at my new Hunter wellies. “Look at me.” I continue to look at my feet. “Don’t defy me, Scarlett. Look at me.” I lift my head. “I’m here with you. Only you.”

  My eyes find the floor again. “I know, it’s just—”

  “No just. I’m yours. Only yours.” He lifts my chin with his index finger the way he does, forcing me to look at him. “Yours.” He plants his lips on mine, a long, lingering, worry-forgetting kiss.

  Does he tell me he loves me in these moments? Is that what you’re saying, Ryans?

  Chapter Ten

  My gown has already been taken out of the dress bag and hung up in the wardrobe. I rummage throu
gh the leather weekend bag that Gregory said we could share. I find his Bluetooth speakers and place them on the bedside cabinet, pairing them to my iPhone and putting my song list on shuffle.

  The monsoon shower is so good I have to drag myself out. I wrap myself in my kimono and rough dry my hair before taking sections and blow drying it straight, securing one side over my shoulder with a crystal and pearl comb. I’m almost done with my makeup when I hear the bedroom door close.

  Gregory’s eyes have a brandy sheen when he appears at the door to the bathroom but he doesn’t seem drunk or even tipsy. He casts his eyes from my head to my toes and his brandy sheen is replaced with desire. If I hold his stare, I’ll relent. I look instead at the object he holds in his hand.

  “What’s that?”

  He holds it up. “It’s tradition. It represents the fox’s tail.”

  “Oh, of course, silly me. I should’ve been able to see that from the bunch of black feathers on a stick.”

  He grins roguishly, and moves towards me. He casts the feathers aside and grabs my arse cheeks, pulling my hips into his.

  “No, Gregory. You’ll ruin my make-up.”

  He lifts my legs around his waist and rests me onto the marble unit. “But I can kiss you here,” he says, drawing my kimono over my shoulders and taking my nipple in his mouth. “Don’t fight me, Scarlett, I’ve wanted to be inside you since I watched you fuck yourself with your fingers.”

  Urgh, I can’t resist this. “No, Gregory. I know where this leads and that’s me having to redo my hair and makeup which I don’t have time to do before dinner.”

  He lifts his head, staring at me, his cogs in overdrive. “So I can’t put my lips on you and I can’t touch your hair?”

  My goddamn body is going to betray me and tell him to do whatever the hell he wants in whatever way he wants. I keep my lips firmly pressed shut and shake my head.

  His brows furrow, then that roguish grin is back. He pulls me forward, my legs reflexively gripping his toned hips. He fixes those devastating browns on me and walks us slowly to the bedroom. I give in. I move to drop my mouth to his but he pulls away.