by Ellen March
Emily shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t know. Just said to tell you she’d be eating out tonight. Oh, and apparently a three-course meal.” She added thoughtfully, “That girl’s got one heck of an appetite.”
His face blanched. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he knew he couldn’t stop her. Moving quickly outside, all he could see were the red taillights disappearing through the gates.
“Damn it.” He slammed his fist into a nearby tree.
* * *
Riley drove on automatic, finding herself back at the old man’s farm.
Tom raised a bushy, silver brow in surprise at his guest. “What’s this? Two visits in one day? People will be talking about us.” He gave her a toothless grin and indicated for her to take a seat.
“I needed to get out, and couldn’t think of a better place to go,” she said simply, sniffing the air. “You making food?”
“Nothing fancy. A bit of cawl. Want some?” he asked, stoking the open fire. The dry wood, now black and charred, splintered with loud cracks.
“What is it?” she asked cautiously. She was absolutely starving, as usual. Even being upset rarely interfered with her appetite.
“Stew—veg with lamb,” he said. “I’ve got a nice crusty loaf to go with it.”
“Please.” She smiled, remembering her quest to eradicate sheep from the planet. Yet her eyes remained dim and sad.
“What is it, lass?” he asked softly, sensing her misery.
She breathed a deep, ragged gust of breath. “Men! Well, Jago, if you must know.” Riley fiddled with the ring she’d put on. “He’s back there flirting with some woman and I couldn’t stand it.”
“Are you in love with him?” he asked curiously. Filling two bowls up with steaming meat and veg, he placed them on the old rustic table. “Come on, sit. It’ll get cold.”
“Thanks, Tom.” Her stomach growled hungrily as he sliced the bread into huge chunks and smothered them with butter.
“Help yourself,” he said, aware she hadn’t answered his question.
“Have you ever been in love?” She dunked the bread into the steaming stew. “Mmm, this is fabulous.” She wiped at her lips, the juice dribbling down her chin. Somehow she’d never managed the art of eating gracefully. Probably because it was always done at speed, she thought, blowing on the spoon. She tried to slow down and just sip.
Tom shook his head. “Afraid not, but looking at you and him I’m mighty glad I haven’t suffered from that affliction.”
“Oh, Jago doesn’t love me—that I know for a fact. It’s just these.” She jiggled her breasts. “And of course what comes with it.”
“I see,” he replied dryly.
He knew more about sheep than women, but he decided not to mention that, remembering the old joke about Wales, where men were men and sheep were nervous.
“Are you sure? He seemed pretty taken with you the other day. And you still haven’t answered my question,” he prodded. Old age gave him the advantage of impatience. He didn’t know how long he was going to be around to get the answer.
Pausing thoughtfully, she cocked her head to one side. “I love his body but hate his moods and the way he shouts at me all the time. But when he smiles ….”
She stopped, and her face took on a soft, dreamy expression. “I think of him all the time. I’m insanely jealous, and he can reduce me to tears with just one word. So if that describes love, then I guess the answer’s yes,” she said sadly.
“It’ll work out, lass, you’ll see.” He gave her a comforting pat on her shoulder.
“I hope so. I really do.”
She leaned back and patted her flat stomach, glad to have put some food in it. “That was beautiful. I really don’t want to move; I feel so full.”
She relaxed in her chair, the heat of the fire glowing hot on her skin, and listened to Tom’s account of farming on the beacons. Of how he’d survived the brutal winters. Welcomed the vivacious spring. As his voice droned on in the background, she drifted off to sleep.
A hand shook her gently and she mumbled, “Not now, Jago.” She wished he’d stop his habit of always waking her.
“It’s Tom, and the time’s gone twelve. You’ve had a good sleep,” he chuckled. The fire had dimmed and the air was chilled. He’d let her sleep as long as he could.
“Oh my God!” she gasped, waking up with a jolt. She hoped Jago hadn’t locked the door. That was assuming he was even there, she thought, picturing the woman whose knickers he was trying to get into.
Not that he had to try hard, she amended, thinking back to what she’d seen. Talk about ‘on a plate.’
“Stay here if you want,” Tom said gruffly. “I’m not going to attack you. My arthritis will make sure of that.”
“I’d love to, but I think it would seriously pee Jago off. I’ve got to get the horses ready in the morning, so I won’t push my luck.” Rising, she leaned over and kissed him on his forehead. “But thank you, Tom. It’s nice to have a friend.”
“Anytime, Riley.” He struggled slowly to his feet. “And if you’re ever in trouble or need to talk, I’m here for you,” he added, his voice quivering slightly with emotion.
“I know that, Tom, and thank you,” she said with a sad smile, wishing Jago were half as charitable.
Chapter Fourteen
Jago glanced down at his watch for the hundredth time. It was exactly two minutes later than the last time he’d checked.
He wasn’t in bed.
Instead he waited impatiently in the darkened lounge, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. It was gone twelve thirty and still she hadn’t returned. His mood alternated between white-hot fury and stomach-churning worry. A multitude of possible disaster scenarios were streaking though his mind.
At last he spotted pale lights glimmering in the distance, and the small car chugged to a halt in the yard. With a mixture of relief and anger, he watched Riley get out and saunter up to the house.
Without a care in the world, she paused, her head thrown back, staring up into the vast inky sky. Then she continued on her way, swinging her bag with her usual carefree style.
* * *
The door clicked quietly behind her, and Riley breathed a sigh of relief that it had been left unlocked. She was intent on creeping up the stairs without disturbing Jago.
She spun around, her face contorted with guilt, as a blaze of light illuminated the hallway.
“Just where the hell have you been?” rasped Jago, his voice hoarse.
“Out. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to my bed.” Riley didn’t like the expression on his face. He was furious. She could feel the raw hostility blasting from him, coating her with ice. The eyes that stabbed into hers accusingly shimmered like cold jade.
“Thought that’s where you just came from.” He moved slowly up to her and placed a hand on the banister. He gripped it with such intensity that he appeared ready to tear it free from its base.
“Have you finished?” She stumbled back, wanting to get away, remembering his attack on Steve. She sensed he was beyond talk, and his fury appeared to be directed straight at her.
“No! I haven’t bloody well started yet,” he yelled.
Riley put her hands up to her ears, not wanting to hear him call her names.
“So tell me … where have you been eating out?” The last two words were spat out. His face was ashen white, and his eyes splintered over her. A muscle ticked at his jaw.
Riley shouted back, “So it’s okay for you to be all over that woman?” She was fed up with him making it out to be her fault. “I saw you. She was like a bitch in heat, and you were loving it.”
“Well, at least she appreciates me,” he countered, scrubbing a shaking hand through his hair.
“Really? Well obviously she doesn’t bloody well know you.” Spinning around, she raced up the stairs.
“Come back here! I haven’t finished with you.” He sprinted up behind her, reaching the door just as she slammed it shut and the bolt
banged across.
“Go away,” she yelled, safe in her sanctuary.
“Open it now,” he ordered, “or so help me God, I’ll kick it down.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she taunted, but when the door splintered and crashed open, she screamed.
Riley dived behind the bed and attempted to keep her distance from him. “Don’t you touch me!”
“Then tell me who you were with tonight,” he growled, prowling slowly towards her. “I don’t care how long it takes; I’m going to get an answer.”
“No, you’ll only try to kill him.” She tamped down the smile sneaking around her lips. All of a sudden Riley found the situation humorous. Here he was, in a temper over an old man!
“I won’t try; I’ll do it,” he said quietly. “Now who was it?” Jago stood before her and gripped her by her shoulders. His fingers dug hard into her skin and his glare soldered over her, hot and blistering, demanding an answer.
Riley contemplated not telling him, but one look at his face changed her mind.
“Tom,” she said, wishing she could add ‘Cruise.’ She wanted the name to conjure an image of a strikingly beautiful God instead of an octogenarian whose trousers were held up with baling cord. “I had stew with him—cawl or something—and then fell asleep.” Refusing to look up at him, she stared stonily at the floor.
“Are you telling me the truth?” Once again she had rendered him speechless. He wondered how she always seemed to have that effect. He never knew which way she was going to turn or what she was going to come out with next.
“No, I made it up. I actually went into town, didn’t bother eating, just shagged a couple of dockers and came home,” she retorted sarcastically, resting her mocking gaze on his face.
“Stop talking like that.”
“Why? That’s what you expect from me, isn’t it?” Her blue eyes spitting, she glared up at him.
“No, I don’t,” he admitted quietly. “It’s just that you worked as a lap dancer, and well, come on! Do I need to spell it out for you?”
“Who told you that?” Riley shook her head in confusion.
“You did. You said you worked there.” He threaded a hand through his hair and sucked in a frustrated breath.
“Yes, behind the bar,” she explained as if talking to an idiot. “Do you honestly think I could strip and dance in a thong in front of strangers? And even if I did, no one knows better than you that I was a virgin.” She omitted the fact she spent most of her time avoiding their hands. Now was not a good time to relate that little snippet.
Jago shook his head. An immense sense of relief soaked over him, mixed with a serious splurge of guilt. “I’m sorry, Riley, for the way I’ve treated you, for what I’ve thought of you. But the way you dress, it’s as if ….” Oh shit.
At the shock of anger slashing across her face, he let the words drop.
“How I dress and what I wear is entirely up to me. It’s not a calling card! Where do men get off on that?” She shook her head in despair, her voice hitching up a few decibels. “So … wearing a short skirt means I’m up for sex? A low top shouts no morals? Is that it?”
Jago had the grace to look embarrassed. “No, it doesn’t, I realize that now. But Riley, even you’ve got to admit you don’t exactly come across as an innocent.”
“Okay, but that’s me, and I’m not going to change. Just because I flirt doesn’t mean I want a quick jump behind some shed!”
Shame flickered across his face.
“So, do you believe me now?” she asked. “Or are you going to ride over to Tom’s to make sure I’m telling the truth? That is, if you don’t think I’m having it off with him as well.”
He hesitated, and as a smile tugged at his mouth, he nodded and said, “Yes, yes I do, and no, I don’t need to see Tom.”
Very much wanting to trust him, she swallowed. Her mouth felt dry, her tongue as if it were wrapped in cotton wool. “So what about that woman?”
“I was trying to make you jealous. You wouldn’t talk to me, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
His sexy, little lost boy grin slammed right through her defences.
“Think I did too good a job on it.” His intense gaze locked on her. “After you left I was worried sick about you.”
“Really?” A warm glow flickered at her core that he cared. “You were really worried?” Riley wasn’t used to anyone being concerned about her.
“Yes, really.” He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “I’ve missed you in my bed.” His dropped his head, and with a leisurely ease, brushed her lips softly. He savoured the taste, the texture, unbelievingly smooth. He was half afraid she’d pull away, but relieved when she responded, scooting her arms around his neck.
“This isn’t just a ploy for sex, is it?” she asked. Her gaze was so intense it burrowed deep into his soul. She wanted the truth.
“If all I wanted was sex, it’s waiting for me up at the barn,” he said. When she stiffened, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s you I want, Riley,” he whispered against her ear. “I don’t just want sex. I want to make love to you.”
His hot breath skated tantalizingly over her skin.
“Mmmm. Put like that, then yes, please,” she moaned, holding onto him tightly. Her finger skimmed along the contour of his lips, and she giggled when he nipped it.
Finally he covered her mouth with his, sealing his ownership, his tongue plundering, invading her senses. Riley soaked up his adoration. It had been too long, and her sex clenched in anticipation.
A heady excitement gathered in the pit of her stomach.
Without breaking their kiss, he scooped her up in his arms, stepped over the broken door, and carried her to his room.
“How are you going to explain that to Em in the morning?” she whispered against his lips. Jago dropped her lightly to her feet in front of him, his arms still encircling her.
“I’m not. When she sees your clothes in here, she’ll realize, I guess.” Nuzzling her neck, he tugged urgently at her clothes.
“Realize what?” She found it difficult to talk with his sinful hands practising their art, scraping along every nerve ending. She melted against him as his fingers burned and stroked her bare skin.
How the hell had he stripped her so quickly? The man had a most definite talent for that, she thought approvingly.
“That from now on, you’re sleeping with me.” His tongue flicked and circled her nipple, drawing on it till it grew and pebbled. His cheeks hollowed out.
“Are you sure? That sounds like a relationship to me.”
Jago nodded and reluctantly released her nipple. “Thought it was about time I tried one, now that you happen to be here.”
She slapped him playfully on his arm. “Make love to me, Jago!” she said. “I’ve missed having you inside me.” She wound her arms round his neck and pulled him close. Her tongue twirled and rubbed against his, and her hands skated in a frenzy across his body.
With their clothes scattered along the floor, they fell onto the bed, Jago taking her weight onto his body. His lips moved urgently across hers in a wide, open-mouthed kiss, pouring an intoxicating stream of passion through her. He held her so tightly, she had to push at his shoulders.
“Sorry, honey, didn’t mean to crush you.” A sweet smile curved his lips. “It’s just I missed you so much.”
“Ditto, but I don’t want to talk now.” Her hand skimmed over his chest and across his stomach. It circled his belly button before sliding down to his erection, which stood pulsating, a hard stem of concrete. Her own column.
“That’s a first,” groaned Jago.
While flicking his tongue around her mouth, he thrust into her hand—a sexy, lazy pounding that scattered her emotions. He fondled her breasts until they ached, then leaned over and kissed them tenderly.
“Jago,” she said in a low, throaty voice, “shut the hell up.” She dragged his big body over hers, and opening her legs, invited him in.
“Jago, please, I need to feel you deep inside,” whispered Riley, writhing against him.
Her words sent him over the edge. He glanced down, his cock glistening with her juices, then slammed home in one lustful lunge, balls deep. A shiver raced over him as her nails scored his ass, urging him on, faster and faster.
He cannoned against her, into her, his hips rotating, needing to brush every part with his cock. But he couldn’t last for long; he wanted her too much.
With a loud, guttural groan he exploded as Riley continued to drive frantically against him. Her hips almost spasmodic, she started to whimper. Jago leaned forward, sealing his lips to hers as she came in a shuddering climax.
“Hell, but I needed that,” gasped Riley, her body glistening with perspiration. Her chest rose as she took in huge gasps of breath.
Jago shook his head in amusement, thinking he’d created a monster. Her sexual appetite was amazing. Rolling over onto his back, he pulled her close, unwilling to let her go.
They both lay deep in thought. Riley chewed her lip thoughtfully, wondering if this truce would last even a day before they’d argue again. She didn’t know how long she could ride this emotional rollercoaster of passion and pain.
She was in love with the arrogant sod. With every fibre of her being she adored him.
Jago glanced down at her, huddled against his big body. His lips swept gently across the top of her head. She smelt of fresh rain.
He was confused about his feelings.
He didn’t think he loved her, but he knew he couldn’t live without her.
“I don’t know anything about you,” she said, out of the blue.
Tilting her head back, Riley worried at the fleeting glimmer of sadness that crossed his face.