Summer of Surrender

But she had needed to. It was right to move on, it had to be. Exhaustion hit her as she lay back, pulled the cool cotton sheet up to her chin and closed her eyes. All she had to do was think of Simon, imagine him holding her and everything would be fine. But it was a dark, enigmatic stranger that jumped into her head, two black eyes burning into her as though he could read every thought.

‘No.’ She growled and rolled onto her stomach, burying her head under her arms. She really, really did not want to think about him anymore. He was a domineering, bossy know-it-all who thought he could dismiss her with a wave of his hand.

She could still feel the warmth of his skin burning through her dress. She screwed up her eyes. No, no, no. She did not, definitely, one hundred per cent did not want to think about that. He’d held her for two seconds flat, then jumped away before she could make the mistake of touching him back. Bastard. What made him think he could touch her, then not let her do it back? What was he? Too fragile to touch? Handle with care?

Except, she didn’t want to touch him, anyway. Why the hell she’d been about to do that she didn’t know. He was a weirdo. A weirdo who crept up on you and disappeared into the shadows. A weirdo who was all controlling and thought everyone would jump at his command. Well, he’s got another thing coming. She was here now and she was going to stay. He worked for Marie, didn’t he? Not the other way round. So he couldn’t make her go. Not unless Marie said so. And she wouldn’t, would she?

She thumped the pillows into submission and rolled back over. He couldn’t make her do anything. Oh, God, how had he turned her on like that, making her stomach curl, her nipples prickle, made her burn hotly one minute and go goose-bump cold the next? Simon didn’t do that.

Damn the man, Simon did do that. Well, kind of that. When they’d made love it was nice, relaxing. He’d made her come. A nice rolling orgasm that unknotted the tension and sent her to sleep like a good bath would.

Just like a warm bath. Not like a hot-blooded, rampant shag that left her panting for more and begging for a rest.

Bugger. Where, the hell had that thought come from?

Had she ever had that? Most of her lovers had been like Simon, which she’d always thought made her the lucky one. She hadn’t encountered any of the shits that a lot of girls she’d known had. The ones who only ‘wanted it’ when they were half cut, the ones who called tweaking a nipple foreplay. No, most of the sex she’d had was with men she could call friends. Well, the closest she got to friends. A life on the move had left her with no one really close, no girlfriends she could chat to and confide in. Marie had come close to that, though in the short time she’d known her. Being nomadic left you able to strike up acquaintances quickly – yeah ‘acquaintance’ was the word – it made you open because you didn’t have time to be coy. You had to get on with it, then move on, and on, until one day…. you wanted to stop.

Hell, why had she thought this would be easy? Maybe it would be better in the morning, when she wasn’t tired. When she wasn’t thinking of James and how he seemed to turn her on one minute and scare her with that intense look the next. Yeah, it would be better. And she had no choice anyway. No car, no money to speak of and no one she could think of that would offer her a bed. And buried deep in the countryside with a man who didn’t seem to welcome people seemed as safe a place as anywhere.

He was hot though, very hot.

Her hand snaked down between her thighs, rested on a pussy that was damp from something that wasn’t perspiration. She groaned. Stroked gently with her fingertips. She hated him. She rolled over onto her side, her fingers still resting against the warmth, stroking absentmindedly, an automatic caress.

How the fuck was she going to sort out her life when there was a man like him lurking in the background, with his seductive voice, his lulling touch, just waiting to pounce?

Chapter 2

There was a subtle shift in the air, a delicate scent that cut through the fresh hay and horse feed, and the bay mare shifted her body slightly as a shadow fell across her.

‘You’re up early.’ James glanced briefly over towards the stable door as he finished securing the hay net.

She grinned self-consciously as though she half expected him to tell her off and a brief tang of guilt threaded its way through him.

‘The sun wakes me up.’ She shrugged as though he might think it was a stupid thing to say.

The sun always woke him up too. He didn’t understand people who blocked out all daylight, confused the natural rhythm of their bodies and then relied on the jarring noise of an alarm. Well, he didn’t understand it these days. Once he had been one of those people; one of the crowd who dodged nature in the search for something better.

‘Did you sleep okay?’

Something flickered across her face that could have been guilt or embarrassment and she traced her finger along the top of the door, avoiding his gaze. ‘Quite well.’

The mare gave him a nudge and he grinned. ‘You want me to move out of the way of your breakfast, you bossy mare?’

‘Who are you to call anyone bossy?’ She’d got one dark eyebrow raised and a cheeky grin on her impish face.

Leaning against the stable wall, away from the shower of hay that the horse was creating with each greedy tug, he took a proper look at his interloper.

Last night he’d not been quite sure what had landed on his doorstep, apart from the fact that it was tired, angry and determined. Her shapely thighs had been on show when she’d been perched on the gate, along with slim bronzed arms and delicate wrists that looked like they would snap under the weight of her rucksack, but he could take or leave a good body. He’d seen and touched more naked skin in the last few years than was good for him.

But he’d not been able to ignore the heart-shaped face that was pale with something more than tiredness. And the overall image had left him wondering whether he should lock her out or take her in. And then she’d fallen into his arms like a spitting kitten and made his mind up for him.

Now, her dark hair hung straight around her face, big hazel eyes stared at him openly without rancour, eyes that last night had flashed tawny before darkening to the colour of moss. She was small, slim and yesterday’s clinging blue dress had been replaced by faded worn denim shorts, heavy doc martens that he knew hid slender ankles, and a bright-green, skimpy vest that shouldn’t have been allowed to be worn.

And he still didn’t know what he was supposed to do with her for the five weeks before everyone else got back and the business re-opened. He didn’t want company; he especially didn’t want female company. He one hundred and one per cent didn’t want female company that ‘needed help’. What the hell had Marie been thinking when she’d sent the girl?

‘You’ll scare the horses wearing that.’ The outline of small, perfectly round breasts drew his eye, her nipples hardening as he watched.

‘Really? Will I?’ Her eyes had widened, for a moment the doubt creeping back.

‘Well they are part-way to colour blind, but I don’t think even a horse could miss that.’

She laughed, genuine humour flooding a face of innocence and hope, which for a moment made him feel jaded. ‘I could take it off.’

‘You could.’

She coloured slightly, just enough to make her seem a tease, but not a temptress. ‘So you’ve spoken to Marie?’

There was a note of challenge in her voice and he tried to stop the curve of his lips. Nothing like a direct approach, attack mode. ‘I have.’ He unlatched the stable door and she backed off, a nervous filly, unsure whether flight or fight was the preferred option.

‘And?’ It was slightly belligerent, like she was building herself up for a fight if he said the wrong thing.

‘She forgot to tell me you were coming.’ He gave a wry smile. Marie was a great boss, brilliant at her job and loving and giving, but she was scatter-brained. Except this time, he had a feeling she’d forgotten on purpose. She’d just been a touch evasive when he’d rung her last night. And when he’d put the phone down all he could hear was the soft strum of Kezia’s guitar; a haunting, melancholy sound that pricked at the conscience he didn’t want to have and made him wonder if his summer solitude was about to get well and truly gate-crashed. ‘So you met at the yoga place?’ Marie had told him the story, but he wanted to hear the other side of it to see if he could persuade her to change her mind. Or at least go away and come back in five weeks.

She seemed a nice enough girl, although he wouldn’t say harmless. But this summer was about time on his own. He liked time on his own. There was always an air of peace and other worldliness here, even when the business was up and running, but it wasn’t enough.

They’d all agreed that closing for the summer was the best tactic. Business was slack. No one needed lessons in sex in the summer, they were too busy doing it. Sun-drenched bodies on beaches, booze by the bucket-load, inhibitions thrown out along with long work days and stress. When you’re feeling good about your newly toned, slimmed, buffed and tanned body you don’t need a helping hand to orgasm. So Marie and Dan had buggered off to Barcelona, or wherever it was they hid out, and even Saul and Roisin had hung up their boots. And he was happy to be stuck here. Alone. With a big sign on the gate saying ‘No entry’.

Until someone decided to ignore it.

Someone who could talk for Britain.

Kezia was waiting for him to look at her again. He moved along to the next stable and flung open the door. He’d already fed and turned out the horse, and now he was looking forward to the physical side, building up a sweat as he mucked out. In peace. ‘Yoga? Italy?’

‘Yes.’ It was hesitant. ‘You don’t like me, do you?’

‘Nothing personal, I expected to be here on my own, that’s all.’

‘Diplomatic.’ She stood in the doorway, watching as he picked up a pitchfork. ‘She was in Capri a couple of months ago, at the retreat and I was working there. We got on, that’s all. I didn’t ask for a job you know.’ She sounded defensive.

‘Nothing wrong in asking.’

‘But I didn’t. She asked how long I was working there, and I told her that they were about to shut down for their holidays. So she said had I thought about coming back to the UK.’ She paused, not filling in the gap that he knew existed. Marie had said the girl needed a base, was upset and needed friends who cared. ‘She told me to come here and work the summer, then if I liked it I might be able to make it more permanent. I’m not really used to permanent.’ She gnawed at her lip and he dumped a fork-load of muck in the barrow and paused.

‘You get sacked a lot?’

She grinned and her whole face lifted and lightened, including the large sad eyes. ‘Don’t be daft. No, we-I’ve, always travelled, done different things in different places, you know.’ She was looking down again and he wondered who the ‘we’ was. Not that it was any of his business. He was stuck here for the summer and he didn’t need company. And definitely not the kind of company that needed a friend.

‘So you don’t plan on hanging around long then?’

‘Maybe.’ She shoved her hands in the pockets of her shorts and watched him through long eyelashes. ‘Can’t I help?’

‘Suppose. Have you mucked out a stable before?’

She shook her head and the light caught her dark hair, glancing off the red and blue streaks. ‘But it can’t be difficult can it? I mean, it’s only shovelling shit.’

He held his pitchfork out. ‘There you go then, lady, start some shit-shovelling.’ She flinched slightly at the weight and then stuck the fork deep into the bed.

‘Christ almighty it’s heavy. How the fuck…?’

‘For a traveller you’re clueless.’

‘I’m not a traveller, or a gypsy.’ She looked like she was trying to give him a haughty look, and not succeeding. ‘I’m a free spirit.’ Then she giggled as she tried to move the fork and failed.

He smiled. She was tiny, and she’d just tried to dig up half the bed. ‘This stable’s got a deep bed. Just take it off the top, here.’ He stood behind her, put his hands over hers, skimming the muck off the top of the bed.

Her back was warm, pressed against the front of him, her tiny hands disappearing beneath his and a tremor of awareness ran through her as he swung to the side to empty the fork in the barrow. She glanced up at him then, dark hair framing the delicate features, a tinge of blush along her cheekbones and she was all trust and innocence, like she’d been when she’d first appeared this morning.

He bent his head and kissed her. Just one light kiss on those cute rosebud lips, and it drenched his senses with her smell and her need. He didn’t mean to do it. He shouldn’t have done it. But there was something in her, and James didn’t know what the hell it was, but it had just dragged him right in where he didn’t want to go.

He’d not had a sweet kiss for a long time. Not since Chloe had gone. And he hadn’t intended on having it again.

She eased her grip on the fork just like he knew she would, half-turned in his arms, stared at him with need, and moved her hands up to his chest.

Fuck. He let go of the pitchfork like it was molten metal and took a step back. Why the hell had he done that? He hadn’t exactly banned kisses from his life when he moved out here, but he’d firmly limited them. The platonic kiss on the cheek and the passionate kiss during sex. He liked the taste of a woman just before she came, her kiss told him far more than her words ever did.

This was neither.

She was still in the same spot, swaying slightly, a quizzical expression on the face that had been clear.

‘That didn’t happen. I’ll get another fork.’

‘Sure.’ Her tone was light, but more confused than hurt.

There was a fork across the yard, but he didn’t pick it up. He gritted his teeth and walked to the bottom of the row of stables, took a breath and wondered why the hell he had a raging hard-on and why the hell he’d let himself touch her. More than that, kiss her.

It was that look of innocence, probably, a look he found hard to resist. She was a mixture of tease and doubt, of the unconventional and a need to fit the norm. But he wasn’t here to reassure her, to teach her. He picked up the heaviest pitchfork he could see and strode back, wielding it like a weapon. A harder workout might help. This girl was not staying around, she was going before they’d got to the end of the day if he had anything to do with it.

As he reached the open stable door, his mobile buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the display. Dan. Took a step back so that he could watch Kezia and have some level of privacy.

‘What the fuck are you two playing at?’

‘Hi to you too, mate. And we’re having a good break, thanks for asking.’

‘We don’t need anyone to help out.’ He leaned back against the wall and twirled the fork.

‘Aw, come on Mr Grumpy. Marie said you’d probably have a hissy fit.’

‘Then why did you send her?’ He wasn’t exactly angry; now his body was back under control it was more an annoyance. There had been a plan, which suited him fine. They went and had fun. He stayed behind to look after the place, not babysit.

‘She needs something, someone.’

‘I’m not a someone.’

Dan laughed. ‘You’re not wrong, but you do okay as a something. Here, talk to Marie.’ He was handed over to the pacifier. Not that any of them was exactly fiery; they all knew how to defuse a situation, how not to rise to the bait. But they knew this was his weak spot; they knew that being stuck here with a woman depending on him was supposed to be out of the equation.

‘You’re not playing fair.’ He got a word in before she did.

‘Sorry.’ She sighed. ‘She’s had a tough time, but she’s nice. The clients will like her, they loved her in Capri. She’s got a gentle touch, she’s natural, no artifice, open.’

‘You don’t need to spell it out, I can read—’

‘I know, you’re better than me at understanding people, but I’m just trying to explain. I couldn’t leave her, James.’ Her voice was soft. ‘Help me to help her, please? Look after her, once she was out of that job she needed something straight away, trust me.’ Oh, great, someone desperate, one of Marie’s fallen angels who needed rescuing, putting back together again. Except she didn’t look like she was falling apart. She had guts, was prepared to fight her battles and stand her ground. Even if she was tiny and had great big eyes that shone out with a naivety and purity you didn’t often see these days. Especially not here.

‘So, why didn’t you tell me? And why didn’t you come back to sort it yourself?’

She laughed. ‘She needs someone like you, and she needs time to understand the place before we get clients back in. And,’ she paused, laughed, ‘I forgot.’

‘You haven’t given her a job description, have you?’

‘She’ll be fine. We’ll find her something to do.’

‘Marie.’ It was his turn to sigh. So he was trapped here for the summer with a girl, except nobody had told her what the job was. Once she knew what went on she’d probably go, like Roisin nearly had. But go where? Either way he’d look the bastard. Whether he cornered her into staying or chased her away. ‘And how do you know she’ll be any use?’

‘We’ll find something for her to do. She’s sweet, she’ll put people at ease.’ Another pause. ‘She’s got nowhere to go James, no money, nothing.’

And no one from the sound of it.

The sigh travelled across the miles. ‘Do you want me to come back?’

Great, that would mean two of them here to bother him. ‘I know you don’t mean that Marie, so I’m not even going to say no. You’ve got a soft spot for her for her haven’t you?’

‘You might get one too if you give her a chance.’

‘You know I haven’t got any spot to appeal to, so why are you trying? I don’t do waifs and strays.’

‘She’s neither. She’s sad, broke and needs a job. Go on, be nice to her.’

She had an air of melancholy to her that was for sure, from the way she’d played her guitar last night, like it really meant something to her. But sad? ‘I’m not a babysitting service.’ And she’s not a baby, far, far from a baby.

‘Will you at least be nice and find her something to do? Pretty please?’ He heard the chink of glasses in the background. ‘See what she thinks? And even if she’s not interested in staying long term, she can help out with the horses until we get back, which will give her a bit of cash.’

‘I was quite happy sorting the horses on my own, thanks.’

‘Roisin might even take her on as a stable hand. I bet she’s good with animals.’

He laughed. ‘You should see her with a pitchfork. I’ll catch you later.’ He flicked the phone off before she got a chance to say anything else, and took the handful of strides to the other side of the yard. And the girl, no, woman, who he seemed to be lumbered with.

‘Were you hoping I’d finish it before you got back?’ Her voice was soft, a question that went beyond the stable duties.

‘At the rate you work? No chance.’ He smiled, hoping it looked at least halfway to good-natured, swung the fork off his shoulder and stripped his shirt over his head.

She wolf-whistled.

‘You watch what you’re getting into, girl.’ He waved an admonishing finger at her and she gave him the Vs. ‘You watch it yourself, Mister.’

Hmm, any minute now and he’d be tempted to put her over his knee if she carried on the teasing. ‘Let’s move on to the next box. You’re getting better.’

‘Couldn’t get much worse you mean?’

‘Something like that.’ He watched as she got into the swing of it, lifting her fork more easily and with a steady rhythm now she knew what she was doing and every now and then she’d catch him looking and stick her tongue out or just grin.

For a lost and lonely girl she had a self-confidence that surprised him, and she worked hard, not pausing to chat or flirt like the other girls did.

‘So, what do you do here?’ They’d emptied the wheelbarrow for the last time and were putting the beds back down. ‘It isn’t just horses, is it?’

‘What did Marie tell you?’

She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear and pursed her lips. ‘Well.’ She put her head on one side as though waiting for inspiration.

‘I’ll take that as not a lot then. So you came all this way for a job you know jack all about?’

‘I trusted Marie.’ She looked straight at him. ‘Are you saying I shouldn’t have?’

‘No, not exactly. Do you trust everyone you meet, then?’

‘Unless they give me a reason not to, Mr Cynical. And, anyhow, I hadn’t got anything else lined up, I’ve got to do something, so why not this?’ Her small shoulders went up in a shrug.

‘But what’s “this?” Stable hand?’

‘Well, what do you do?’

‘I’m a sex therapist.’

She laughed, carried on tossing straw in the air. ‘You’re a sex therapist?’

‘Yup, that’s what I do here, what we all do.’

The straw lost her attention. ‘You are kidding, right?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not. Wow.’ She leaned on the fork and eyed him up like she hadn’t seen him before. ‘But you’re a man.’

‘Well-spotted. Does that mean I don’t qualify to know about sex?’

‘Well, no, but… So, if you’re a sex therapist what does that make me?’

‘Good question. Chief shit shoveller?

‘I can do other things as well, you know.’ The glare she gave him was steelier than he expected. ‘So, you get wackos here who are sexaholics? Or can’t get it up and stuff?’

‘We get normal people like you and me who want better sex lives.’

She looked directly at him, her eyes slightly wider and gave a short, incredulous snort. ‘You don’t need to teach people about sex, you just do it, right? Sex is just sex.’

‘Not necessarily.’ He tucked his hands into his pockets and leaned back against the wall. ‘People don’t always know what good sex is, or how to ask someone to please them.’

She’d coloured up a bit, but wasn’t backing down. ‘Bollocks. I mean I wouldn’t go to a sex therapist. I mean if you like someone enough to sleep with them, then it’s just going to happen isn’t it.’

‘Is it? Is sex always the same for you, whoever you do it with?’

Her colour shifted another notch up the scale towards red hot. ‘Yes, well no. Well, it just works better sometimes than other times.’ She shrugged. ‘Depends how much you fancy someone I suppose.’

‘Have you never been left high and dry, wanting more?’

‘I’m fine with a cuddle, I don’t have to, you know…’

‘Come?’ God, how he would just love to take her here and now, to show her what passion was really about. He pushed off from the wall and took a step towards her, and she flinched, but didn’t move away.

‘I could make you come.’

‘I can make myself come thanks, no big deal there.’

‘I can make you come,’ He took another step closer. Stroked along her lip with one finger, ‘without touching you where you want me to most.’

‘Slightly bigger deal, but if I get in the zone, think the right things…..’ Her voice tailed off as eased his thumb between her teeth.

He shouldn’t, he should keep his distance. But she was turning him on something rotten. She was all feisty and sassy, but there was also a streak of the submissive about her. A streak he didn’t want to ignore. He’d forgotten what ‘pure’ meant after he’d walked out on his home, his job, his wife. And every woman since had been just there for the sex. And every woman in the future would be. And he wasn’t going to start anything with Kezia, he just wanted to show her. No, he just wanted her. To see her surrender, for him. To him.

‘All you have to do, is say please.’ James paused. There was hesitation in her eyes, but she’d stilled, gone quiet. Was waiting. And it was making his balls tingle in a way he’d almost forgotten existed.