One Summer At The Castle: Stay Through the Night / A Stormy Spanish Summer / Behind Palace Doors

This close, she could also see that silvery scar she’d noticed earlier. She quivered in spite of herself. How had he really got that?

‘Yeah, I should,’ he agreed, distracting her, his gaze dwelling on her mouth with an intensity that felt practically physical. ‘But you know what?’ He shifted against her and she was almost sure she could feel him hardening. ‘I don’t want to. Now, isn’t that the damnedest thing?’

A knot twisted in Liam’s stomach as he watched her reaction to his admission. Had she any idea that a wave of heat and need was drumming through him, making what had begun as a desire to punish her into an insane urge to show her what she was missing? He could feel her trembling, even though she was doing her best to hold herself away from him, and the breasts he’d admired earlier were now surprisingly urgent against her woollen sweater.

‘Please,’ Rosa said unsteadily, probably hoping to appeal to his better judgement. But Liam only heard what she said as if from a distance. He’d captured both her wrists in one grip now, and brought his free hand round to rub his knuckles against one of those button-hard nipples. He felt her shuddering recoil with a pleasurable rush of blood to his groin.

God, she was responsive, he thought incredulously, wondering how long it had been since she’d had a man. If she’d ever had one, he appended, though he didn’t quite believe she was a virgin.

Nevertheless, he wished he’d met her in other circumstances—wished he hadn’t antagonised her by being cruel about her unmarried state. Because he was attracted to her, no matter how he might deny it. She wasn’t beautiful, of course, but she had a fey charm that appealed to the romantic in him. And there was no denying that he could imagine, only too easily, all that glorious hair spread over the pillow on his bed.

Rosa’s legs were beginning to feel as if they wouldn’t support her weight for much longer. Liam had turned his attention to her other breast now, covering it with his hand so that the hard peak butted against his palm. The sensation it caused made her feel dizzy, though not as dizzy as getting naked with him would feel, she thought crazily.

Wetness pooled between her legs and she was disconcerted. What was wrong with her? She’d always known, even when Colin was making passionate love to her, that some part of her had stood apart and watched what was going on with a certain objectivity.

But she couldn’t be objective with Liam. When he looked at her as he was looking at her now, she couldn’t even think straight, let alone anything else. She felt weak, possessed, consumed by needs she’d hardly known existed, so that when he bent his head towards her, her lips parted instinctively for his kiss.

However, although his mouth skimmed the curve of her neck, and the roughness of his jaw grazed her cheek, he didn’t kiss her. Well, not on the mouth, anyway. With a feeling of dismay she felt his sudden withdrawal. He let go of her wrists and she stumbled, hardly aware she’d been relying on his support until it was taken away from her.

Then, as she struggled to regain her balance, he turned his back on her and leant on his desk.

CHAPTER SIX

LIAM, MEANWHILE, was hoping she hadn’t realised why he’d had to turn away from her. Letting her go hadn’t been easy, and his body still wouldn’t accept what his mind was telling it to do. Instincts as old at time were demanding satisfaction, but, although the temptation was great, common sense insisted that he had to take control.

Dammit, he reminded himself, apart from the fact that he hardly knew the woman, did he really want to expose himself to ridicule again? Yet when she’d been in his arms, when he’d been breathing her scent, feeling her slim body moving against his, it had been all too easy to delude himself that this might work. All the pheromones in his body had responded to her and he’d so much wanted to bury himself inside her. To find out if she was as tight there as he imagined she would be.

Which, he acknowledged grimly, was crazy. Did he want her to go away from here and tell all her friends what a monster he was? A monster who couldn’t keep his pants zipped, he thought bitterly. Yeah, the tabloids would have a field-day with that one.

Of course eventually he had to look behind him. Without the slightly unsteady sound of her breathing he wouldn’t have known she was still there. But she was, and she deserved some explanation. Though what he was going to say he wasn’t sure.

After checking himself to make sure there was no embarrassing bulge in his pants, he turned to face her again. Her face was still flushed, he noticed, giving her an unexpected beauty, but she was doing her best to behave as if he hadn’t just made a complete prat of himself. God, he thought, he didn’t need this. He had a book to write, for pity’s sake.

Rosa steeled herself as he turned. If he intended to blame her for what had happened, she had her answer ready. She hadn’t asked him to touch her, and he’d had no right to treat her with so little respect. Heavens, he still thought she’d never been married. Goodness knew what he might have done if he’d known the truth.

If only there was some way to get away from here. If she had a car, for instance—or the use of a phone—she wouldn’t have had to stand there like a fool, waiting for him to remember he had a guest. As it was, she was dependent on him for a phone, both to ring for transport and to call her mother. She disliked being beholden to him for anything after what had happened.

Liam sighed. This was a new experience for him, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. When he needed a woman, he found one who knew what she was doing. He’d never brought any woman here before, never done anything to violate the atmosphere of his home.

Until now.

Swallowing his pride, he said stiffly, ‘I know you’re not going to believe me, but I don’t do this sort of thing—’

He would have continued, but Rosa broke in before he could say anything else. ‘You’re right,’ she said tersely. ‘I don’t believe you, Mr Jameson. I may be naïve, but you can’t tell me you’ve never taken advantage of a woman before.’

‘Dammit!’ Liam caught his breath. ‘I didn’t take advantage of you,’ he exclaimed impatiently. ‘If I had, you’d know it, and you don’t.’ He paused. ‘And call me Liam, for God’s sake. You don’t know how ridiculous you sound, calling me Mr Jameson after what just happened. You may still be a virgin, but I’m not.’

That was unforgivable, but he’d had it with trying to humour her. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t played some part in the affair. Some part in his downfall, he amended grimly. He wasn’t going to forget this in a long time.

‘Oh, I’m sure everything about me seems ridiculous to you,’ Rosa retorted, stung by his unfair criticism. ‘But for your information I have been married, Mr Jameson. I divorced my ex-husband over three years ago.’

Liam stared blankly at her. ‘You’ve been married?’ he echoed disbelievingly.

‘For five years,’ she agreed, glad she’d been able to shock him at last.

‘You don’t look old enough.’

‘Well, I am. I’m thirty-two, Mr Jameson. Quite old enough, I assure you.’

Liam was surprised. And disgruntled. He’d put her down as being no more than twenty-five. But he was most disturbed by the way this news affected him. If he’d known how old she really was, and that she’d been married…

But he mustn’t go there. Wasn’t it enough that he’d made a bloody fool of himself and created an awkward situation for himself into the bargain?

‘Look,’ he said, tight-lipped, ‘let’s agree that we’ve both made some mistakes here. I shouldn’t have grabbed you, I admit it. But you shouldn’t have made me so mad that I forgot what I was doing.’

Rosa wanted to argue that she hadn’t been the one who’d brought her here, that if he’d been honest right from the beginning none of this would have happened. But a reluctant awareness that she hadn’t exactly put up much of a fight kept her silent, and when she finally spoke it was to say, ‘Would it be all right if I used your phone, then?’

Liam knew a most inappropriate desire to laugh. Her words were so unexpected, so prosaic, as if all they’d been doing for the past half-hour was discussing the weather. But he had the sense to realise that humour would definitely not go down very well at this moment, and with a careless lift of his shoulders he said, ‘Why not?’

‘Thanks.’ Rosa hoped she sounded sincere. ‘I just want to ring my mother again.’

Liam arched dark brows. ‘And tell her your sister’s not here?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay.’ He nodded towards the desk where the phone was situated. ‘Be my guest.’

Rosa hesitated for a moment, feeling awkward now. ‘Um—perhaps I could ring for a taxi at the same time?’ she ventured. ‘What was it you called that man?’

‘McAllister?’

Rosa nodded.

‘No need.’ Liam started for the door, trying to hide the fact that his leg was protesting at the sudden activity. ‘Sam’s driving over to the village later this morning. You can go with him.’

Rosa wasn’t sure she wanted that. Sam Devlin hadn’t exactly welcomed her here. ‘If it’s just the same to you, I’ll call McAllister,’ she murmured, wishing she didn’t have to ask. ‘I don’t want to put anyone out.’

Liam paused now, half turning to face her, his brows drawing together above those piercing green eyes. ‘What’s Sam been saying to you?’

‘Oh—nothing.’ And it was true. ‘I’d just—prefer to make my own arrangements.’

Liam regarded her broodingly. ‘So you don’t want any advice on where to stay?’

‘Well—yes.’ Rosa hadn’t thought of that. ‘That would be useful.’

‘Okay.’ Liam reached for the door. ‘I’ll have Sam give you an address.’ He pulled the door open, trying not to drag his foot as he moved into the aperture. ‘Take your time. There’s no hurry.’

‘Oh, but—’

‘Yes?’

His response was clipped, and Rosa, who had been about to ask if he’d injured his leg, changed her mind. ‘You—haven’t given me Mr McAllister’s number,’ she said, with sudden inspiration, and Liam frowned.

‘I can’t remember it off-hand. I’ll have Sam give you that, too. After you’ve rung your mother.’

And wasn’t Sam going to wonder why she’d refused to drive back to the village with him? But, ‘Okay,’ she said weakly. ‘Thanks.’

‘No problem.’ Liam was eager now to put this unfortunate interlude behind him. ‘Have a good trip back.’

‘Oh—’ Once again, Rosa detained him. ‘I mean—I will see you again before I leave?’

It had been an inane question, bearing in mind that he’d just wished her a good trip, but, conversely, now that the time had come, Rosa was curiously loath to leave him.

Liam sighed, leaning heavily on the door for support. ‘You’re not going to tell me you’ll be sorry to go, are you?’ he asked flatly. ‘Because, quite frankly, I’d find that hard to believe.’

Rosa met his mocking gaze defensively. Then, to her dismay, she found herself saying, ‘I suppose you’ll be glad to see the back of me?’

Liam took an audible gulp of air. How was he supposed to answer that?

‘Pretty much,’ he admitted at last. Then, seeing her expression, he added, ‘You’re too much of a distraction.’

‘Oh, right.’ She gave him a scornful look. ‘What you mean is, I’ve wasted too much of your time already.’

Liam shrugged. ‘I didn’t say that.’

‘You didn’t have to.’ Rosa turned towards the desk. Then, picking up the receiver, she said, ‘I hope your leg’s better soon.’

Liam blinked, but she wasn’t looking at him now. And, although he was tempted to ask her what she knew about his injuries, he kept his mouth shut.

The door closed behind him and Rosa breathed a sigh of relief. The sooner she left here, the better. Despite what she’d thought before, he was dangerous to her peace of mind.

Her mother answered on the second ring, and when she did Rosa was instantly aware of the anticipation in her voice.

‘Sophie?’ Mrs Chantry said eagerly. ‘Oh, darling, I hoped you’d ring back.’

Back?

Rosa was stunned. ‘You mean you’ve heard from her?’

There was a moment’s silence. ‘Rosa? Rosa, is that you?’

‘Who else?’ Rosa could hear the edge in her voice but she couldn’t help it. ‘What’s going on, Mum? I gather you’ve heard from Sophie?’

‘Well, yes.’ Her mother sighed. ‘She rang yesterday evening.’ She made a sound of excitement. ‘You can’t imagine how relieved I was.’

Rosa could. Sophie could do anything and their mother would forgive her. Even if, as in this case, she’d been telling a pack of lies.

‘So where is she?’ Rosa asked, forcing herself to be patient. ‘Did she tell you that?’

‘Of course.’ Mrs Chantry sounded indignant now. ‘She’s in Scotland, as she said.’ She paused, and then went on breathlessly, ‘She’s having a wonderful time. Everyone’s been so kind to her, and there’s every chance she’ll get a part in the production. Isn’t that amazing?’

‘Unbelievable, certainly,’ said Rosa drily, wondering if her mother was pathologically foolish where Sophie was concerned. For heaven’s sake, who was going to employ a starstruck teenager with a very minimal acting talent?

‘I might have known you’d say something like that, Rosa.’ Mrs Chantry sounded irritable now. ‘Just because Sophie isn’t on the island, as you expected, you’re taking your frustration out on me. Well, Scotland’s a big country. It’s natural that a production like this would need a less confined location.’

‘It wasn’t my idea to come to the island,’ Rosa pointed out, aware that she sounded peeved. ‘It was your idea, not mine.’ She paused. ‘Did you tell her where I was?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘You mean you didn’t.’ Rosa gritted her teeth. ‘So where is she?’

‘I’ve just told you. She’s in Scotland,’ said her mother testily.

‘Where in Scotland?’

‘Ah…’ There was a pregnant pause. ‘Well, I’m not precisely sure.’

‘But you said you’d heard from her.’

‘I have. I did.’ Mrs Chantry sighed. ‘But you know what Sophie’s like, Rosa. She was so busy telling me all the exciting things that have happened to her that she forgot about giving me her address.’

‘I’ll bet.’

‘Oh, don’t be like that, Rosa. Can’t you find out where she is?’

Rosa sighed. ‘How am I supposed to do that?’

‘Well, you said Liam Jameson was there, didn’t you? He’ll know.’

‘Mum…’It was growing increasingly hard to be patient. ‘There is no film production. Or, if there is, Liam Jameson doesn’t know about it.’

‘Have you asked him?’

‘I—er—’

Belatedly, Rosa acknowledged that that was something that they hadn’t discussed. When she’d found out Sophie wasn’t on the island, that there was no film crew working there, she hadn’t thought to ask if he’d given permission for a film to be made elsewhere.

But wouldn’t he have told her?

Yet he hadn’t told her who he was until he’d had to.

She’d been silent for too long, and her mother said sharply, ‘You have spoken to him, haven’t you?’

Spoken?

Rosa stifled the hysterical sob that rose in her throat at her mother’s words. Yes, she’d spoken to him all right, she thought. Though that was a poor description of what had happened between them.

‘Yes,’ she said, her voice a little hoarse. ‘I’ve spoken to him, Mum. He was very—nice, actually.’ And that had to be the understatement of the year!

‘And he insisted he’d never seen Sophie?’ Mrs Chantry sounded anxious now, and Ross wished she hadn’t been so brutal. ‘Oh, I wish she’d taken her phone with her to Glastonbury. But Mark was taking his, and I was so afraid she’d lose it.’

‘I—I don’t think Jameson’s seen her,’ Rosa murmured weakly, hating the thought that her mother was going to start worrying all over again. ‘I—I’ll ask him again.’

‘Oh, you’re a good girl, Rosa.’ Now that she thought her daughter was softening, Mrs Chantry was prepared to be generous. ‘I knew I could rely on you. And don’t forget to find out where the film is being made.’

Rosa put the phone down with a feeling of utter bewilderment. Speaking to her mother was like butting her head against a brick wall. Mrs Chantry only heard what she wanted to hear, and now that Rosa had agreed to speak to Liam Jameson again she was prepared to wait for developments.

Rosa swore—something she rarely did, but right now she felt it was justified. Wait until she got her hands on her younger sister, she thought. Sophie would regret putting them through all this trauma.

Yet if Sophie hadn’t disappeared Rosa wouldn’t have come here, wouldn’t have met Liam Jameson for herself. And, while that was something she might live to regret, right now the prospect of seeing him again was causing her heart to beat so madly it felt as if it was in danger of forcing its way right out of her chest.

But where had he gone?

She crossed to the door and pulled it open, only to fall back in surprise when she found Sam Devlin just outside. Had he been listening in to her conversation?

But, no. Something told her that the burly Scotsman wouldn’t be interested in anything she had to say, and this was confirmed when he said brusquely, ‘Yon McAllister’s on his way from the village. He should be here in about half an hour. Would you like me to carry your bag down for you?’

‘Oh—no.’ Rosa was taken aback. But she should have known that Sam would waste no time in sending her on her way. ‘That won’t be necessary.’ She paused. ‘Actually, I wanted to have a word with Mr Jameson before I go.’

‘I’m afraid that’s impossible, Miss Chantry. Mr Jameson is working, and it’s more than my job’s worth to disturb him.’

Rosa doubted that very much. From what she’d seen, the two men had a good working relationship, and it was extremely unlikely that Liam Jameson would risk that by threatening to sack Devlin if he was disturbed.

‘It would only take a minute,’ she said persuasively. ‘I want to ask him something.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Sam wasn’t budging, and Rosa stared at him in frustration. If only she knew where Liam’s office—den?—was. Evidently he didn’t work in the library, as she’d thought at first. But in a place of this size he could be anywhere.

‘Tell me what you want to ask him and I’ll deliver your message when he’s free,’ Sam suggested, but Rosa had no intention of trusting him.

‘It’s personal,’ she said, but although she held the man’s gaze for a long while, hoping to shame him into helping her, ultimately it was she who looked away.

Then another thought occurred to her. ‘You could give me his phone number,’ she said with inspiration. ‘I’ll ring him later.’

‘I couldn’t do that, Miss Chantry.’

‘Why not?’

‘Mr Jameson doesn’t give his private number to anyone.’

‘Then give me yours,’ mumbled Rosa ungraciously. ‘I’ll let you know where I’m staying, and Mr Jameson can ring me.’

Sam looked as if he wanted to refuse, but perhaps he realised that that would seem unnecessarily anal. Besides, he couldn’t really know that Liam wouldn’t speak to her if he went and asked him.

However, when he spoke it wasn’t what Rosa had expected. ‘Mr Jameson knows where you’re staying, Miss Chantry,’ he said, and now Rosa noticed the scrap of paper in his hand. ‘He asked me to give you this address.’

‘Oh!’ That stumped her. ‘Thanks.’ She took the paper from his outstretched hand and looked at it almost resentfully. ‘Does Mr McAllister know where this is?’

‘Everyone knows where Katie Ferguson’s guesthouse is,’ declared Sam scornfully. ‘This isn’t London, Miss Chantry.’

‘I don’t live in London,’ retorted Rosa hotly. ‘I come from a small town in North Yorkshire, Mr Devlin. Not some teeming metropolis, as you seem to think.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Rosa was sure he didn’t mean it. ‘I naturally assumed—’

‘You shouldn’t assume anything,’ said Rosa, enjoying having him on the defensive for a change. She glanced down at the paper again. ‘Thanks for this.’

Sam gave her a polite nod of acknowledgement. ‘I’ll let you know when the car arrives.’

‘Thanks,’ said Rosa again, and without another word Sam closed the door on her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘HAS SHE GONE?’

It was later that morning, and Liam had just emerged from his study having spent a rather fruitless couple of hours trying to concentrate on characters who suddenly seemed as unconvincing as cardboard cut-outs.

He’d found Sam and Mrs Wilson in the kitchen on the ground floor of the castle, enjoying a coffee break, and he’d accepted a cup from the housekeeper with some gratitude.

He wasn’t in the best of moods, however, and his temper wasn’t improved when Sam said cheerfully, ‘Aye, she’s gone, Liam. Not but what she didn’t ask to speak to you again before she left.’ He gave his employer a knowing look. ‘I told her you were working and couldn’t be disturbed, but I don’t think she was suited.’

Liam scowled. He’d just burned his mouth on the hot coffee, and Sam’s announcement was the last straw. ‘You did what?’ he demanded harshly. ‘Why did you tell her that?’

‘Well, because you never like to be disturbed when you’re working,’ said Sam defensively. ‘Don’t tell me you expected me to come along to your office and break your concentration just because some lassie with more bluff than sense asked to see you?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

Liam’s scowl deepened, and Mrs Wilson made a hasty exit through the back door, murmuring something about needing some greens from the garden. Meanwhile, Sam stared at the younger man belligerently, although his face reddened with colour. ‘I think you heard what I said,’ he muttered defiantly.

‘And who appointed you my guardian?’ exclaimed Liam, equally unprepared to back down. ‘I know you didn’t like me bringing her here. You made that plain enough. But this is my house, Devlin, not yours.’

Sam straightened. He had been lounging against the drainer as he chatted with the housekeeper, but now he stiffened his back. ‘I thought I was doing you a favour, man,’ he protested. He lifted an apologetic hand. ‘Obviously I was wrong. I’m sorry. Rest assured, it won’t happen again.’

He turned and thrust his cup into the sink, but when he started across the room, evidently intending to leave Liam to it, Liam stepped into his path.

‘No, I’m sorry,’ he said roughly, ashamed at taking his frustration out on the older man. ‘Forget what I said, Sam. It’s not your fault I’m in a bloody mood.’

Sam hesitated, still looking upset, and Liam cursed himself anew for distressing him. Dammit, Sam was right. He probably would have complained if Sam had interrupted him. He was letting a woman he might never see again ruin the long-established relationship he had with his steward, and that was stupid.

‘I mean it,’ he grunted, holding out his hand. ‘Take no notice of me. I’ve had a pretty useless morning, and I’m ready to blame anyone but myself.’

Sam’s jaw clenched, but he took Liam’s hand and shook it warmly. ‘Yon lassie’s to blame,’ he said staunchly, but Liam wasn’t prepared to go that far.

‘Well, she’s gone now,’ he said neutrally, taking another mouthful of his coffee and finding it more to his taste. ‘McAllister turned up, I gather?’

‘Aye. In that old rattletrap he calls an estate car,’ agreed Sam, relaxing now. ‘How it passes its MOT test, God knows!’

‘I don’t suppose it does,’ said Liam, hoping it hadn’t broken down between Kilfoil and the village. He was remembering what Rosa had said about the dangers of the moor, and to imagine her walking into one of its treacherous bogs was enough to bring another scowl to his lips.

But he wasn’t about to bring that up with Sam, and, finishing his coffee, he said, ‘I’ll see you later. I’m going to take the dogs out.’

Sam arched his grey brows. ‘Shall I come with you?’ He eyed his employer’s injured thigh with concerned eyes. ‘You don’t want to have another of those spasms when you’re out on the cliffs.’