by Ellen March
She limped after the others, who were tearing up the steep incline. They were like flaming mountain goats, she thought bitterly, whilst she coaxed, cajoled, and propelled her weary limbs forward.
Jago glanced back, wishing she’d give in. She had to be in pain but still she kept on. Slowly she continued, clambering up the hill on her hands and knees.
He knew what he had to do.
Turning to the family, he made a pretence of looking up at the sky. “Sorry folks, but I think we’ll have to go back. The weather’s turning and we don’t want to be caught up here when the fog comes in.”
The slight woman frowned, glancing at the clear blue sky. “But it looks so nice. Can’t we keep going?”
Jago shook his head. “Sorry, I know how it looks, but trust me, in less than an hour you won’t be able to see your hand in front of your face.” He kept his face serious, the lie coming easily. “And then there’s the precipice. The last thing you want to do is go over that when you think you’re on firm land.”
“Oh quite,” she agreed, her features drooping with disappointment.
“Obviously I’ll give you a refund. It’s not your fault the weather’s on the turn.” He was relieved it had been so easy and noted that her husband hadn’t argued. He was already making his way down.
* * *
Riley stared at them stupidly, wondering where the hell they were going.
“Weather’s changing,” said the husband as he hurried past her.
Riley looked up at the sky and didn’t give a shit. All she’d heard was that at last they were going home.
“You okay?” asked Jago, coming alongside her. He’d seen her wincing and limping as she walked.
“Fine,” she lied in a high-pitched, strained voice, determined to hide the pain that ravaged her body. She could no longer decide what part hurt the most; every sinew was on fire. “Just a shame we’re going back,” she managed to mutter.
“Isn’t it?” he agreed, raising his eyebrows. Grinning at her nerve, he passed her without breaking his stride.
She stared after them as they strode down the mountain, crossing the moors. Riley was just glad she’d bribed Colin with enough chocolate to stay with her. Painfully she hobbled across the grassy tussocks, swearing loudly whenever she fell in the bog.
Riley knew without a doubt that she was going to make Jago suffer for putting her through this torture. But first her main focus was on getting back to the house.
“Ah, here they come,” said Jago, when they eventually limped into the yard. He ignored Riley’s icy glare as she hobbled past.
Atypically, she didn’t say a word. Instead she struggled up the path, intent on reaching the front door and collapsing.
Emily stared at her in shock when she staggered into the kitchen. “Dear God, Riley, what have you been doing?” She pulled out a chair and pushed her into it, forgetting about her rucksack.
“Walking,” she groaned, “and I’m never doing it again. He knew what he was doing. Just wait till I see him. He’s going to have a piece of my mind.”
“Come here,” the older woman said, “let me take that off you.” She tugged at Riley’s rucksack and dropped the heavy weight to the floor. Shaking her head, she tutted at the sight of her legs cut to pieces, smattered with mud and blood.
“My feet hurt,” muttered Riley, but for the life of her she couldn’t bend forward to take her boots off.
Jago walked in just as she was reaching in vain for her bootlaces. Seeing the state she was in, he felt both guilt, and strangely, pride. That she’d coped. As cut up and hurting as she was, she hadn’t given in.
“It’s okay; I’ll do it,” he said to Emily then wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Kneeling in front of Riley, he could see close up the mess on her legs, the scratched and broken skin. She was ripped to shreds.
Pulling her boots off, he cursed out loud. Her socks were soaking wet and drenched in blood.
“Riley, why the hell didn’t you say something?” he shouted. Carefully holding her foot, he gently peeled off her socks. The blisters were red, raw, and angry, and he was only too aware that she must have been in agony. The guilt he felt coated over him thicker and thicker as each layer of hurt was exposed.
“Because that’s what you wanted,” she said, flinching. “You wanted me to give in, didn’t you?”
Jago didn’t reply, knowing damn well she was right. Instead, he asked, “Do you want me to run you a bath?”
She shook her head. “God no, can you imagine my feet in there? Or is that what you want?” She shot him a brief black glare. “Think I’ll opt for a shower.” She struggled to rise, her face a mask of pain.
“Come here,” he said. “I’ll carry you.” He scooped her up roughly into his arms, but when he heard her groan, he was instantly contrite. “Sorry,” he muttered. Hurriedly running up the stairs, Jago deposited her in the bathroom. He couldn’t get away quickly enough.
* * *
Over an hour later Riley padded carefully down the stairs. She was dressed in her only nightdress—a T-shirt and shorts sporting a picture of Garfield. Her feet were bare, and her muscles twitched in burning tatters.
Limping slowly into the lounge where she’d spent so much time by herself, she was surprised to see Jago watching what looked like a nature programme. Or maybe it was a cookery one, she thought bitterly. Either way there was a bloody chicken on it.
“How are you feeling now?” He glanced down at her bare feet, pulsing with glaring red blisters. His gaze slid up her shapely legs, marred by scratches, to her knee, badly grazed.
“My shoulders are killing me,” she moaned, trying and failing to move her arm upwards. She turned abruptly towards him, and her deep blue eyes drilled into his. “Do you really hate me so much, Jago?” She stood completely still, waiting for his response.
He snatched in a furious snatch of air and scrubbed his hand over burning eyes. “No, I don’t hate you at all, but why the hell didn’t you stop sooner?” He went over to the bar and poured a whiskey. “Want one?”
She shook her head. “No thanks.” Then winced.
Jago saw the movement. “Sit down here,” he ordered, indicating the seat.
“Why?” She watched him warily, wondering if he was going to finish off what he’d started.
“So I can massage your muscles.”
Her mutinous expression fading, she paused before limping hesitantly forward.
“And you need some antiseptic cream on those cuts. Don’t want them becoming infected.”
Riley looked on in astonishment as he produced a tube and gently dabbed at her knee and various cuts. Her stomach began a series of excited somersaults at the sensation his hands were creating against her skin. She stared in fascination as his fingers scrambled lightly over her legs.
“Think that will do.” His hand was trembling, his voice shaky.
Riley wondered what was wrong and wished he didn’t have to stop. Moving her arms experimentally, she whimpered at the pain.
Taking a deep breath, Jago reluctantly placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed his fingers into her back, unhurriedly pressing, massaging, and circling. He was looking directly down into her cleavage. Her breasts were more compelling than any mountains he’d ever climbed. They beckoned and called to him like sirens.
Riley moaned and groaned, loving his touch, the pain, and the relief his fingers gave. She almost forgot the hands working this magic were Jago’s. She arched into his touch, her head thrown back, her eyes closed.
“Ouch,” she cried out, feeling his grip tighten.
“Sorry,” he said. Unable to continue, he dropped his hands. “You should be all right after a good night’s sleep.”
“Have you got to stop?” She rolled her shoulders, one at a time.
“Yes, I have,” he said tersely. “So if I was you, I’d have some food and get an early night. Em said there’s pie in the micro for you.”
Riley sighed and knew he was right. She was sha
ttered.
He still hadn’t explained his reasons for taking her today. If he ever mentioned hiking again, he’d find himself wearing her boot in his mouth.
“Okay.” She struggled to rise and wasn’t sure what felt the worse, her feet or her muscles.
“Come here,” said Jago shortly. Helping her up, he instantly let her go as if he’d been stung.
“Guess I’ll see you in the morning then?” She smiled, unaware of how she looked—her face burnt by the sun, her body mauled by the moors and her hair ravished by the wind.
“Guess you will,” he said, and turned away to pour himself a stiff whisky.”
Chapter Seven
As she mucked out the stables, Riley felt the perspiration trickle along her neck. It trailed downwards and glistened in a translucent path down her cleavage.
She was hot and dirty, with only the promise of the pool urging her on. A nice dip in the cool water would revitalize her flagging body.
It was late afternoon when she finished. Ambling wearily up the path to the house, she passed Eve on her way out.
“Finishing early?” asked Riley, wiping her sweat-drenched forehead with the back of her hand. The sun was bright and high in the sky, a blazing yellow ball against a pale blue background.
“I need to do the banking. Tell Jago I’ll see him later if he’s going down the Boar.”
“What’s that?” Riley tried to visualize any area on the bleak hillside that might offer civilisation. A frisson of excitement rippled through her at the prospect of nightlife.
“A pub. It’s not far from here, about three miles or so. Anyway, got to go before the bank closes.” With a wave of a perfectly manicured hand, she ran lightly down the steps towards her car.
Riley paused, watching her leave and wondering why all of a sudden she was being so friendly. Was she becoming more hospitable towards her because she was no longer a threat? The conversation in the kitchen drifted back and she burst out laughing.
Eve really did have the hots for Jago, she thought, but considering the man, she couldn’t blame her.
She was still chuckling when she sauntered into the kitchen. Emily finished stacking the plates away. The room was once again in a pristine condition.
“I’m whacked,” grunted Riley, collapsing into the nearest chair, “and I’m hot.” She tugged at the shirt sticking to her body and wrinkled her nose at the smell of horse and body odour.
“Well, it’s quiet. Why don’t you have a dip in the pool?” suggested Emily. “Jago won’t be back for a while. You can have it all to yourself.”
“Do you think he’ll mind?” she asked, although her decision had already been made. She didn’t really care if he approved or not.
It had taken her over a week to recover from that hike, and predictably, Jago was back to being distant. So distant she rarely saw him, she thought with a snap of irritation.
“Good heavens, no. He’s the only one who uses it anyway.”
An array of conflicting emotions passed over Riley’s face. The girl reminded Emily of an elf, with her delicate, changeable features and wide blue eyes.
“Right. I’m off to get changed.” With a sudden surge of energy, she took off up to her room to try and find something to wear.
Emily shook her head. You’d have to be blind not to notice the sparks flying between them, even if they were hostile ones. There were definitely sexual undercurrents, and she felt deep in her bones that the girl would be good for Jago.
Riley rifled through her clothes, throwing them around the room. She didn’t own any swimwear and had hoped to find something suitable.
Eventually she stood, chewing worriedly on her lip, and glanced down at herself. The pair of knickers and cropped top would have to do. At least they were both white and so might pass for an outfit. As an afterthought she grasped a huge towel from the bathroom and skipped lightly down the stairs.
“Have a nice time, love. My husband is here to pick me up, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay, Em, do you think this is all right?” She spun around.
Emily was about to say ‘fine’ until she saw the knickers were nothing but a tiny thong. “I just pray that Jago doesn’t come back early and see you in those.”
“Yeah, it’ll give him something else to moan at me for,” teased Riley.
Riley padded outside, relishing the heat of the patio stones beneath her bare feet. She felt strange and decadent dressed in so little outdoors. Dropping the towel onto the sun bed, she stared at the pool. The blue water, smooth as glass and without a ripple, sparkled invitingly. The breeze was still.
A set of steps led gradually into the water from the far end, and holding onto the side, she waded in carefully. Shuddering at the coldness, she slowly dipped her body to her shoulders, sucking in a sharp snatch of air as the icy chill took her breath away. She was now chest deep. She swirled the water around her, loving the sensations of coolness flowing through her fingers. Holding her nose, she ducked under and came up shaking and spluttering, her hair plastered to her head.
She spied an air bed lying alongside the patio and waded back out to retrieve her prize. It took her over a dozen attempts before she managed to launch her body onto the slippery plastic surface and stay there.
Lying on her back, she peered up at the sun scorching down and closed her eyes, letting her hand trail in the water.
Silence. In London that word didn’t exist. The only sounds to be heard came from nature. A bird squawked overhead, and bees droned as they feasted on the rich purple lavender. The occasional bleating of sheep grazing on the hills nearby drifted in the air.
The rays of the sun produced a burning mantle of heat, grilling her body. It was bliss.
That was her last conscious thought. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
* * *
Jago drove through the gates earlier than anticipated. There had been an accident, not serious, but enough to close the caves for the remainder of the day. And so he’d fetched his party back, offering them a repeat trip to make amends for their shortened stay.
Getting out of the car, he stretched legs stiff from driving and massaged the back of his neck. Once the clients were gone he was going for a cool, relaxing swim. It was the one pleasure in life he couldn’t live without.
Yeah, buddy, what about sex?
He glanced around the quiet yard and wondered where Riley was. Still pondering what Eve had told him, he shook his head in frustration. I don’t want her, he lied to himself. Like hell I don’t. And so what? It was simply a nice body to dream about … so nice he hadn’t thought of anything else since the night he’d carried her naked out of the bath.
Ever since that orgasmic experience, he was ashamed to admit, he’d had more wet dreams than a teenager.
Checking the stables, he noticed that at least she’d cleaned them properly so he couldn’t have a go at her about that. The men returned, and after a few minutes of banter, they collected their gear and left.
The house was ominously quiet. No radio, no TV, in fact nothing but an acute silence. Moving towards his room, he reached out for the knob on her door opposite, and guessing she was asleep, dropped it. He didn’t want to catch her naked again. Quickly stripping out of all his clothes but his snug boxers, he went back downstairs. The guests would be gone by now, but his regular skinny-dipping routine was out the window since Riley’s arrival.
He loped through the kitchen, glancing towards the pool, and froze.
Riley lay sleeping on the air bed. He felt his arousal hardening just looking at her. Long, shapely legs stretched invitingly out, and the minuscule briefs barely covered her. Her concave stomach was bare, the belly bar she wore glinting enticingly. Her breasts rose and fell with a shudder.
Jago gave his head a sharp shake and forced his libido back. Coming to his senses, he wondered what the hell he was doing standing there fantasising. And worse, what was she doing lazing around his pool, dressed like that?
“Ril
ey!” he shouted.
Oh God, not again, she thought as her dream disintegrated. This time she was going to keep sleeping. She turned over to snuggle under her quilt. “Go away,” she muttered, determined to meet her blond lover this time.
“Riley!”
Rolling over, she catapulted off the air bed, screaming as the water converged over her floundering body. Her fingers tried without success to grip the bed. She thrashed about and started to sink.
She can’t swim, he thought.
In one fluid movement, Jago dived into the pool. Hooking Riley with one arm, he pulled her up against him. Coughing and spluttering, she struggled in his grip.
“Calm down! I’ve got you,” he muttered, his heart hammering in his chest at the fright she’d just given him. Swimming easily to the shallow end, he carried her out of the pool. She continued to cough, and water trickled out of her mouth as she gasped for breath. As he placed her gently onto her feet, his arms still holding her, he thought she looked like a drowned kitten.
His attention dropped to her brown nipples, so clearly revealed beneath the transparent material clinging to her body. He tried to steady his breathing, unable to drag his gaze way.
“You nearly killed me,” she said in a hoarse breath. Though still trembling at the fright she’d just had, she glared up into his face.
“Me?!” he yelled back. “Who’s the idiot who can’t swim and fell asleep on that thing? What would have happened if you’d fallen in and I wasn’t here?” He couldn’t believe what she was saying. He’d just saved her life, so a thank you would have been nice.
“Well, if you hadn’t shouted at me, I wouldn’t have toppled over.” She checked around, spotted her towel, and spun about to fetch it, giving Jago a full view of her naked backside.
“Oh dear God,” he groaned, unable to tear his gaze away from her pert ass, which begged to be caressed. Don’t forget, she’s not interested in men, he told himself over and over. But he still felt himself harden. When she bent over, stretching for her towel, he wanted nothing more than to grasp her hips and drive deep inside her.