by Ellen March
Eventually she gave in and decided to listen to the sat nav. Keying in the post code she’d been given, she stared in horror. She was still miles away. And somehow, totally in the wrong area. She couldn’t believe there were two Black Mountains. Only in godforsaken Wales could that happen, she thought testily. One was named the Black Mountain, and the other was the Black Mountain range. Just great! She was in the east and her destination was in the west. Why in the hell did one small area have to have the same name? She exhaled a sharp breath of irritation.
Could things get any worse? She dreaded to think how far off the track she was. Her ass was already numb with the length of time she’d spent sitting on it. She rubbed it gently to get the circulation going.
Riley attempted to devise a plan of action and threw an evil look at the sheep. She wished she could afford to eat lamb every day until they became extinct.
“Mint sauce,” she screamed childishly, and was blithely ignored. The sheep appeared to possess a greater degree of dignity than she did.
Eventually realizing no more food was forthcoming, they gradually drifted away, sporadically nibbling on the small blades of grass. They seemed oblivious to the fine spray of rain now descending. Riley stared miserably at the thick white haze that filtered across the landscape, bringing with it a veil of swirling mist.
Wondering if this area was exempt from summer, she slammed the car into gear with a surge of anger and blinked her eyes briefly at its familiar harsh grind. The little car chugged onwards. She prayed that the sat nav was trustworthy and guiding her in the right direction this time. Realistically, it was the only road heading that way, so at this juncture she guessed she couldn’t go wrong … conveniently ignoring the fact that she already had.
Riley flicked the windscreen wipers on and cursed the Welsh weather. It was the fine damp driving rain that seeped into your bones. Then, glancing down at her petrol gauge, she saw that it was running on empty.
Riley squinted through the gloom. The light was rapidly fading. The dim glow from the yellow headlights pooled on the road ahead, barely illuminating her way.
It was lonely.
It was silent.
And most definitely it was scary.
Riley was used to noise, lights, and crowds. Here her only companions were sheep and ponies on a landscape so desolate she hadn’t even seen another car. She swallowed down a glut of fear.
After what seemed an endless time on the twisting road, she swung around a bend. In the distance, a smattering of lights twinkled invitingly. A wave of relief smashed over her. She was almost at her destination! She hurtled ecstatically towards it, thankful that her petrol had lasted.
A large sign hung on a bracket and swayed gently in the breeze, a fine drizzle of rain smattering against it. The name ‘Tyrian’ was emblazoned there in bright bold letters.
“Thank God for that!” she breathed. The hammering in her heart eased now that she’d finally arrived.
Riley glanced down at her watch. It had taken her approximately seven hours to get from London to Wales. The journey should have taken a fraction of that time.
Ten minutes later, Riley finally managed to negotiate the five bar gate and drove through, re-latching it.
She cursed the fading light.
She cursed the misty rain.
And she cursed all men in general. It was because of them that she had ended up in this part of Britain.
Her earlier euphoria was disappearing as quickly as the light. She was tired, hungry, and generally peeved.
The battered Beetle chugged into a large empty yard. Riley switched off the engine and looked around for any sign of life. She shuddered as images from the film Psycho flitted through her thoughts. She was beginning to wonder what the hell she had let herself in for.
A large stone house towered a short distance away. Light spilled out of the tall windows. She sucked in a deep breath and stepped out of the car, throwing her small satchel bag over her shoulder. With slow steps, Riley trod warily up the path towards the bulky oak door, praying that whoever answered it wasn’t in a wheelchair.
Or she’d be out of here!
* * *
Jago sat in the large leather chair, old and cracked and moulded perfectly to his big body. He held the piece of paper and studied it, wondering where the hell the new starter was. Again he glanced at the section listing hobbies. He’d expected rugby or motorcycling. But shopping?
He shook his head worriedly.
“What time did you tell him to arrive?” Unable to control his rising temper, he drummed his fingers impatiently against the sides of his chair.
“I didn’t,” supplied Eve, seated opposite. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, aware of the mood he was in. Black and frightening. “I contacted the agency. I assumed they’d tell him.”
He threw her a dark scowl, and rising, moved to stand at the window, where he stared out thoughtfully. “Well, I hope he gets here soon. We’ve got that party in the morning, and I can’t manage all the horses by myself.” He turned to her, agitation written on his face. “Unless of course you want to offer?”
Eve gazed at him longingly. She licked her lips and let her eyes rove over every lush inch of him. Sucking in a long, ragged breath, she finally said, “No, I don’t do horses.”
He brushed a hand distractedly through his dark hair and muttered, “That idiot would have to go in the stall with Farley …. I warned him time and time again!”
Eve flinched and walked hesitantly towards him. She placed a perfectly manicured hand on his arm and felt the muscles bunch beneath her fingers. “I know, but he didn’t think. You should be glad he wasn’t seriously hurt.”
Jago turned to look down at her, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “Thank God nursing isn’t your forte. How can you say that a broken leg, arm, and a chunk out of his back aren’t serious?”
He moved so that she was forced to drop her hand.
“Well, you know what I mean,” she amended, then turned around and made a pretence of examining her nails. “I just hope this boy can handle horses.”
A short rap sounded at the door. It swung open and Emily the housekeeper waddled in, her grey hair glinting against the play of lights. A huge grin spread across her round face. “Your new employee is here,” she announced grandly.
“And about time,” he answered curtly. His patience had run its course. Jago didn’t like waiting around for anyone.
“Riley Smith, I’d like to introduce you to Jago, the owner of Tyrian.” She gave a gutsy chuckle. “And don’t let his gruff manner intimidate you.” Then she stood to the side.
* * *
Oh my God, I’ve hit the mother lode. “Nice to meet you,” smiled Riley. Very nice indeed. Her gaze stroked over him, lightly caressing, eating up every delicious inch, conveniently forgetting her resolve to abstain from men. She licked her lips unconsciously, slithering her tongue slowly across them.
She decided that this job had some definite perks after all.
He was all male. A testosterone temple that was ready for worship. Bulging muscles, features not so much handsome as rugged. A hint of shadow dusted his chin, and his eyes were so bright she felt she could drown in their green depths.
Jago stared at the tall girl in front of him. Shock widened his eyes, dropped his jaw. Then he frowned and glanced at Eve for confirmation. Judging from her pallor, she was just as surprised.
Riley moved forward, unable to understand why the atmosphere had grown so hostile. “Sorry I’m late. Got a bit lost,” she explained casually. “No one told me there was more than one Black Mountain. Unfortunately I was on the other one.” She held out her hand in greeting, but then dropped it when it was ignored. “Anything wrong?” she asked in her usual forthright manner.
Were all Welsh people so damn rude?
Chapter Two
Jago shook himself, coming to his senses. The male he’d expected didn’t by any stretch of the imagination translate into the spiky haired woman standi
ng before him. She wore very little. And what was there left nothing to the imagination.
“Yes, there very much is,” he eventually growled. The gaze that swept over her blasted frosty as an arctic storm. “I was expecting a man.”
Riley shrugged her shoulders dismissively. “That’s your problem, not mine. Unless of course you’re discriminating against me because of my sex.” She paused and looked up at him. “Are you?”
“No, of course I’m not! But you won’t be able to do what I employed you to do,” he countered. “That’s not discrimination; it’s common sense.” His gaze riveted to her huge chest.
He wondered if they were real, then noticed the bounce and decided God had blessed her.
“And my face is approximately six inches up from my tits! If you’d care to raise your eyes?” The blue eyes that flashed over him had turned almost navy.
Jago flushed bright red. Unused to such candidness, he was unsure how to reply. He knew damn well he’d been caught ogling. “Sorry.” A wry grin tugged at his lips.
She gave a slight nod of her dark head. “Apology accepted.” Deliberately grazing her eyes over his crotch, she noticed he dressed to the left. And flashed him a wicked wink.
Jago burned beneath her searing search, at a loss. This woman had only entered his life a few moments ago, and already he was discovering he couldn’t cope with her uniquely crude attitude.
“How do you think you’ll manage to fit in here?” He stared at her thoughtfully, waiting for an answer. Then he sat back down in his huge leather chair and indicated that she should sit opposite.
Instead she chose to wander around the room, coolly inspecting the huge variety of books stacked on the shelves. She pulled one out and examined it. Sniffing at the leather binding, she put it back in its slot.
Eve looked on, her eyes glittering malevolently.
“Depends on what you want me to do, I suppose,” she said, finally. She did an abrupt turnabout. “I believe the job description mentioned various duties and equine care?” She locked eyes with Jago. “That’s ‘horses’ to you.”
“I’m aware of that,” he snapped. He struggled to tear his eyes from her long slim legs, ensconced in the tiniest of denim shorts. The top she wore moulded to her upper body, emphasising her petite waist and huge breasts. She was dressed as if she was touting for customers.
The answer Jago would like to give came to him. He knew exactly what he wanted her to do, which was why he needed to get rid of her. She was too much of a distraction. He shifted uncomfortably as his dick responded.
She just stood there, tilting her head, hands on hips. Studying him, she said, “So?”
His green eyes glittered. “What do you know about outdoor pursuits?”
“They’re outdoors?” she suggested mischievously.
Jago released a ragged sigh. He didn’t like playing games. “And what else. Have you done any abseiling?”
“I don’t swim.” She cringed when she realized the words that had tumbled out of her mouth. Hearing the reedy giggle of the woman, she decided against saying any more. Instead she turned and flashed him a brilliant smile.
Jago shook his head in disbelief. “Walking?” he asked quietly. His face was hard, his gaze probing.
“Oh, I’ve got plenty of experience doing that. Give me a shopping mall and a credit card and I can go for hours.” Slowly sashaying around the room, she casually examined the ornaments.
“Don’t be flippant,” he ground out. “And will you stand still?”
Riley turned around, her eyes now the colour of indigo, and prowled towards him. Each step was executed with precision. Her hips rolling in a softly undulating rhythm, she eventually came to a shuddering stop at his chair.
Inches from where he sat.
“And riding, how good are you?” His voice was hoarse. He wished she’d move back. Unable to take his eyes off her heaving chest, he wondered if she had large nipples He loved large nipples.
Riley grinned, dragging her tongue over her lips suggestively. “Now, that I’m very good at. You’re more than welcome to try me out. Anytime.” She grinned and flashed him a slow, seductive wink.
Jago couldn’t decide whether to chuckle at her audacity or send her packing. But Christ, he wanted to ride her all right! He could visualize her long legs wrapped tight around his waist.
“I’ll sleep on it. It will be interesting to see how you cope with the horses in the morning. If you can handle them, you’re hired. If not, I’ll pay your expenses back home.” He was already aware of the inevitable outcome.
Riley nodded her head slowly. Only the flash of her eyes gave away her simmering temper.
“Where are your bags?” He hoped to God she hadn’t turned up with just the clothes she stood up in.
“They’re in the car. It’s okay, I’ll get them. Just tell me where I’m to sleep.” With her usual air of independence, she was already making her way towards the door.
Jago scrubbed his hand through his hair, knowing damn well where. And he didn’t like the idea, tonight or any other night, come to that. However, there wasn’t a lot he could do right now.
He knew for a fact she’d be going home tomorrow. But if it turned out she had a clue about horses, he’d give up sex for a month. Considering he rarely went a week without it, he was pretty confident of winning his bet.
“I’ll help you, and then I’ll show you to your room. Only it’s not made up. We weren’t expecting a woman.” It wasn’t as if she could stay up at the barn.
Eve looked on, her sharply defined dark brow raised.
Jago returned Eve’s inquiring gaze. “Now that Riley has arrived, I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.”
She glared at him, her eyes glinting with suspicion. “Are you sure?”
“Definitely. You’ve done enough for today.” Then he loped after Riley, his eyes firmly fixed on the sexy ass that swayed temptingly before him. A sweetly peachy ass that teased him, begging to be bitten. And he swallowed.
Eve blew out a resigned angry breath and followed them down to where the cars were parked. She stared in amazement at the battered Beetle.
“It’s been a few colours, hasn’t it!” she stated bitchily, taking in the paintwork sprinkled liberally with rust.
“Much like yourself,” said Riley, glancing up at her dyed hair.
“And you don’t dye yours?”
“Not yet, but I don’t care what other people think. If you’ve gone grey then go with it or cover it up.”
“I haven’t gone grey!” The loud click of a staccato heel rang out as Eve stamped her foot in irritation.
“No, just prematurely ash blonde,” Riley replied, ending the conversation. She leant over and busily rummaged in her boot, which was where the engine should have been. After years of owning the car, she still couldn’t get used to it.
Jago stepped in, feeling the tension between them, and wondered what the hell he was getting into. She’d only just arrived and was already causing more destruction than a whirlwind.
“Okay, Eve, I’ll see you tomorrow. Take care driving home,” he added in an attempt to assuage her hurt feelings.
She paused to glare at Riley, her hooded eyes resembling a cobra’s. With a brief nod of her head she ducked into her coupe and slammed it into gear. She sped out of the yard in a surging swirl of shingle.
“Does she always drive like that?” asked Riley without concern as the red taillights disappeared into the night.
“Only when she’s been insulted.” He wrenched the cases out of the boot and wondered what the hell she was carrying. The one felt like a dead weight.
Riley looked up at him, confused. “Why, what did you say?” She was sure she must have missed something.
“Nothing, nothing at all.” He wondered what planet she was on. Then, deciding chivalry was dead anyway, he handed her the lighter case. “Here, you can carry this.”
* * *
Emily continued to hover about the kitchen, certain that Ri
ley would need food. From the moment she’d met the new girl, Emily had taken a liking to her. She was a breath of fresh air, she thought with satisfaction. Emily had worked for Jago as cook and housekeeper ever since he’d first bought the place, ten years ago. She’d lived in the area all her life, and had been looking for a position to bring in extra money. Her husband, now retired, had worked for the Royal Mail, and her extra income allowed them to live more comfortably.
Maybe, just maybe, Emily thought, she’ll be the making of the man.
“Em!” Her name reverberated around the walls of the house.
The door swung open and she appeared unexpectedly in the hallway. “Yes?”
“You couldn’t help out with her room could you? She’ll be sleeping here tonight.” Lugging the case behind him, he felt his muscles bulge with the strain. How had she gotten it in the car to begin with?
Riley glared at him, her arms folded in front of her. She tapped a foot impatiently on the tiled floor. “I have a name, you know.”
Emily grinned, realizing that at long last Jago had met his match. About time his arrogance took a nose dive, she thought with an approving nod of her head.
Jago paused, one foot on the stair. “Yes, a boy’s name,” he ground out. She’d hit a nerve by pointing out his rudeness.
She shot him a smug smile. “Riley can be used for either sex.” Idiot!
“Well, why didn’t you mention it when you applied for this job?” he countered, glaring down at her.
“Don’t know. But never mind, I’m here now.” She casually dismissed him and turned her back. Grinning at the handsome woman with the twinkling blue eyes, she said, “Come on then, Em, let’s get me settled in.”
* * *
Jago stared after their departing figures and followed them, towing the case. He wondered if he’d ever get the last word in with this Riley woman. He could see that she was like a tornado—fast, destructive, and definitely dangerous to be around.