Passion & Pleasure: Savage Awakening / For Pleasure...Or Marriage? / Taken for His Pleasure

FLISS had to work at the pub that evening.

She didn’t feel like it, particularly after the way she’d left the Old Coaching House that afternoon. She felt on edge and uneasy, ready to snap at the first wrong word. But, although she would have liked to blame Matt for her bad mood, she knew it wasn’t his fault that she felt so depressed.

Yet it seemed that every time she and Matt seemed to be making some progress, something happened to upset the balance. This time, it was what Amy had overheard—and apparently related to him—and she hadn’t known what to say when he’d accused her of gossiping about him at home.

Of course, his response had been triggered by her reaction to Amy’s excitement over the photographs. She’d immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion and there was no excuse for that. But, dammit, her fears had been fuelled by what her father had told her. If he hadn’t filled her head with what he’d heard about Matt’s supposed instability, she’d never have suspected him of telling Amy horror stories in the first place.

Not that those things weren’t constantly on her mind, too, she conceded unhappily, heading back to the restaurant to take another order. Although she’d attempted to convince herself that the scars she’d seen on his back looked worse than they actually were, the images they’d evoked simply wouldn’t go away. What had he done, for God’s sake, to deserve such punishment? What kind of monster had done that to him? Did anyone ever recover from that kind of experience?

‘Hello, Fliss.’

Someone spoke, a man, and Fliss, who had been concentrating on adding the table’s number to her order pad, looked up in surprise.

Harry Gilchrist was one of the four young people who had recently been shown to a table in the window. He and another man Fliss knew by sight were sitting opposite two young women she didn’t recognise. Pasting on a friendly smile, she returned his greeting and then said, ‘Are you ready to order?’

‘What are your specials?’ asked the other man, nodding towards the extra dishes that were posted on a board beside the bar. He raised his eyebrows at his companion. ‘I fancy a steak.’

‘Do you?’ she said archly. ‘I fancy something else entirely.’

Fliss ignored this and recited the evening’s special dishes, but she could see that Harry wasn’t comfortable with his friends’ behaviour. ‘Are you OK, Fliss?’ he asked, showing her the kind of attention he should have been showing his girlfriend. ‘I heard you’d gone to work for our local celebrity. What’s he like?’

Fliss’s lips tightened. ‘You should know, Harry. I saw you talking to him yourself the other afternoon.’

Harry looked a little put out now and Fliss knew she shouldn’t have taken her bad mood out on him. ‘I only meant what’s he like to work for,’ he muttered. ‘He’s bit of a weirdo, isn’t he?’

‘Who, Matthew Quinn?’ asked his male companion with interest. ‘I didn’t know you knew him, Gil.’

‘I don’t,’ said Harry shortly, giving Fliss a resentful look. ‘He came into the store, that’s all.’ He paused, before returning to his earlier comment. ‘That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.’

‘Well, you heard wrong,’ said Fliss, her nails digging into her pad. ‘Now, have you decided what you want to eat or shall I come back?’

She was flushed when she got back to the kitchen and Eileen Reardon regarded her curiously. ‘Is something wrong, love?’ she asked, her gentle Irish brogue soft with concern. ‘I saw Harry Gilchrist come in. What’s he been saying to you?’

‘Oh—nothing.’ Fliss couldn’t let Eileen think Harry was to blame. In all honesty, he had only been trying to be friendly, as always. ‘I—it’s very warm in there, that’s all.’

‘Are you sure?’

Eileen was looking at her with such compassion in her eyes that Fliss was tempted to confide in her. This was when she missed her mother most. Her father did his best, but he was a man. He didn’t always understand how she was feeling.

But she didn’t have the right to discuss Matt’s affairs with anyone, and, forcing a rueful smile, she said, ‘It’s been a long day. Thank goodness it’s the weekend.’

Eileen hesitated. ‘Is the job at the big house getting too much for you?’

‘Oh—no.’ Once again, Fliss’s colour deepened. ‘Um—I’d better give these orders in,’ she added, easing past her employer’s wife with some relief. ‘Or your customers will be complaining.’

Eileen let her go, but Fliss knew she wasn’t entirely satisfied with her answer. She hoped the older woman thought it was just because she was tired. She would hate any more gossip to find its way to Matt’s ears.

Fliss had hoped to stay in bed a little later the next morning, but at seven o’clock Amy came bounding into the room. She’d taken to copying her mother’s example and sleeping in cotton boxers and a T-shirt, and now she bounced onto the bed and crossed her bare legs.

‘It’s another lovely morning, Mum,’ she announced brightly, as her mother struggled to get her bearings. ‘Do you think we could go to the beach?’

‘The beach?’ Fliss shook her head in some bewilderment. She’d slept only fitfully again and she was having trouble in assimilating the fact that it was Saturday and she didn’t have to go to work. ‘Oh, I don’t know…’

‘Come on, Mum,’ Amy was pleading. ‘You know we always have a good time at the beach. And we haven’t been for ages and ages.’

‘At least a month,’ agreed her mother drily. ‘Amy, I’ve got housework to do. And shopping. You can come into Westerbury with me, if you like.’

‘I don’t want to go shopping,’ said Amy moodily. ‘We always go shopping. I wanted us to have some fun together. Kelly Mason says that her mum and dad always take her out at weekends.’

Fliss expelled a weary breath and eased up against her pillows. She could have pointed out that Kelly Mason’s mother had all week to do her household chores. She didn’t have a job outside of looking after her husband and family, but Amy didn’t want to hear that.

Besides, Fliss had to admit she was right. She did usually spend Saturdays shopping or working in the garden, and it was only natural that Amy resented her preoccupation with such matters. But going to the beach…

‘How about having lunch at McDonalds?’ she compromised, knowing Amy loved eating out, but the little girl only picked disconsolately at a thread hanging off the bed sheet.

‘I’m not hungry,’ she muttered, pursing her lips, and Fliss sighed.

‘Amy—’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said indifferently, sliding off the bed. ‘I’m going to give Buttons his breakfast.’

Which was something else she had to do, Fliss reminded herself, unable to suppress a yawn. Unless she got some netting, the rabbit’s enclosure would never be made. Her father had made his order and he wouldn’t do anything else until she supplied the materials.

With a feeling of tiredness that had little to do with her restless night, Fliss swung her legs out of bed and got up. When she opened her bedroom door she found that her father had beaten her into the bathroom. She could hear the shower running, and, realising he was going to be some time yet, she went downstairs to use the toilet there.

There was no sign of Amy, but she wasn’t worried. Although the child was unlikely to have got dressed before she went out, it was a warm, sunny morning and she’d come to no harm going outside in just her sleeping shorts and T-shirt. Besides, Harvey was obviously with her, and he’d bark if anyone was about.

After attending to her immediate needs, Fliss washed her hands and then spooned coffee grains into the filter. With the reassuring sound of the coffee straining into the pot, she linked her hands together and stretched her arms above her head.

It was so good to feel her spine expanding, to feel all the kinks disappearing beneath a sudden wave of well-being. At least she was fit and healthy, she reminded herself firmly, her spirits lifting. She should be grateful for that.

She frowned as she looped one arm over her shoulder to meet the arm she’d twisted behind her back. Perhaps she and Amy could go to the beach, after all. She was up early enough, goodness knew. If she hurried and got her chores done straight after breakfast, she could leave the shopping until they got back.

She was reversing the exercise when the back door opened behind her. Guessing it was Amy, she didn’t immediately turn to look at her. She was too busy anticipating how delighted her daughter was going to be when she broke the news, and only when the cooler air from outside drifted about her bare midriff did she say, ‘Can you close the door, Ames? Please.’

She was arching her back in a final stretch when a disturbingly familiar male voice said, ‘Amy’s coming. She’s just checking on the rabbit, I think.’

Immediately, Fliss abandoned her exercises, and swung round to face him. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded, the shock of being discovered in her night wear briefly obscuring the fact of how unusual it was for him to leave the house. ‘Where’s Amy?’

Matt tucked his fingers beneath his arms, an expression of mild amusement giving his dark features a disturbingly sexual appeal. Like her, he was wearing shorts, though she guessed he hadn’t slept in his. And a black vest, that revealed surprisingly muscled biceps for a man who supposedly led a sedentary life. Just looking at him like this made her toes curl, and the ache down in her belly caused a moist heat to make itself felt between her legs.

‘As I said before, she’s coming,’ Matt declared, his eyes surveying her just as thoroughly as she was surveying him. ‘I think she wanted me to speak to you first.’

Fliss’s heart sank. ‘What’s she done now?’ she asked wearily, deciding she couldn’t worry about her appearance right now. What she was wearing was decent enough, even if her nipples were etched unmistakably against the thin cloth of her T-shirt. ‘Don’t tell me she’s been annoying you again.’

‘As far as I’m aware, Amy has never annoyed me,’ he retorted, emphasising the last two words. ‘I like her. She’s a good kid.’

Fliss breathed through her nose, trying to subdue the erratic beat of her heart. ‘I know that,’ she said. ‘Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop her from getting into mischief.’ She paused, and then, as the reality of his presence registered, ‘I’m sorry. Were you looking for me?’

Matt sighed. ‘In a manner of speaking, I guess.’

Fliss frowned. ‘You haven’t come here to speak to my father, have you?’

‘Unlikely.’ Matt’s lips twisted. ‘My information was that he isn’t up yet.’

‘From Amy?’ Fliss blew out an exasperated breath. ‘Well, sorry to disappoint you, but he is up. He’s in the bathroom, but I have every reason to believe he’ll be down here any minute now.’

‘Magic.’ Matt pulled a wry face. ‘OK, here’s what I came to say—Amy tells me you don’t have time to take her to the beach—’

‘Amy told you that?’

‘Yeah.’ Matt shifted his weight from one foot to the other. ‘All right, I’ll admit it. She did come over to the house. The dog—what’s its name? Harvey?—had got into the garden and she was looking for it.’

Fliss snorted. ‘Yeah, right.’ She gave him a pitying look. ‘Believe me, if Harvey was in your garden, Amy must have put him there. There’s no way he could get out of this garden without someone opening the gate.’

‘Perhaps she was taking him for a walk?’ suggested Matt mildly, but Fliss only made another impatient gesture.

‘In her nightclothes?’ she demanded scornfully, and Matt gave a lazy shrug.

‘Why not? You apparently do aerobics in yours.’

Fliss felt the colour flood into her throat. ‘In my own kitchen,’ she retorted indignantly, and his lean mouth tilted in an incredibly sexy grin.

‘OK,’ he conceded. ‘That wasn’t fair. I’m sorry. But it’s true, isn’t it? You did tell Amy you couldn’t take her to the beach.’

‘I might have done.’

Matt waited a beat. Then, he said, ‘I wondered if you’d allow me to take her out.’

‘You?’

Fliss was taken aback and it showed, and Matt’s mouth compressed. ‘Yeah,’ he said flatly. ‘I knew it was a crazy idea, but I had to run it by you.’ He half turned. ‘Forget it. I’ll see you Monday morning at the usual time—’

‘Wait!’ Fliss didn’t know what possessed her, but she couldn’t let him go like this. ‘I—let me think about it, at least.’

Matt paused, and eyes dark as sin impaled her with a sceptical look. ‘What’s to think about?’ he asked. ‘You hardly know me. I know that. You don’t know if you can trust me. Like I said, it was a crazy idea. Why don’t we both forget I ever mentioned it?’

Fliss shook her head. ‘I can’t do that.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well—for a start, because I do think I can trust you.’

‘Thanks.’ His tone was dry.

‘I mean it.’ Fliss sighed. ‘But Amy had no right to involve you—’

‘If you say so.’

‘—and I’m sure you have better things to do than take a nine-year-old to the beach.’

‘Ah.’ He was sardonic. ‘This is your way of letting me down gently, right?’

‘Wrong.’

‘But you’re going to say no, anyway,’ he persisted harshly. ‘Why don’t you just come out and say so?’

‘If you must know, I’d already decided to take her myself,’ said Fliss defensively, and she saw the way his mouth turned down at this news.

‘Yeah, right.’

‘I mean it.’ She gave a helpless shake of her head. ‘Why would I lie?’

‘You tell me.’

‘I’m not lying,’ she protested. ‘If you don’t believe me, why don’t you come with us?’

It was one of those moments when the air in the room practically shimmered with tension. Matt was obviously taken aback by her words and Fliss was wondering how much deeper a hole she was going to dig herself. Dear God, she didn’t want to spend a whole day with him any more than he wanted to spend the day with her. Dammit, why hadn’t she kept her big mouth shut?

‘What’s going on here?’

Her father’s appearance in the doorway seemed like the last straw. She had hoped Matt would have said his piece and disappeared before her father came down, but now George Taylor was staring at their visitor with wary eyes. He’d recognised him, of course. How could he not? And he was characteristically suspicious as to why Matt should be standing in his kitchen.

In fact it was Matt who took the initiative. ‘Mr Taylor, I presume,’ he remarked easily, putting out his hand to shake the other man’s as if he’d never expressed any reluctance to speak to a member of the Press. ‘Matt Quinn. I’m the new owner of the Old Coaching House.’

‘I know who you are Mr Quinn,’ said Fliss’s father stiffly, obviously as taken aback by Matt’s cordiality as Fliss was herself. Then his gaze turned to his daughter, and his lips tightened. ‘I suggest you go and put some clothes on, Felicity. I’ll entertain our guest.’

Fliss rolled her eyes. ‘Dad—’

‘It’s OK,’ said Matt, before she could say anything more. ‘I’ve got to go and finish my breakfast and lock up the house.’ He met Fliss’s gaze with apparent unconcern. ‘I’ll leave your daughter to explain that I’m taking her and your granddaughter out for the day.’

Fliss didn’t know which of them was the most shocked, her or her father. But rather than wait to see how she was going to handle it, Matt arched a challenging brow in her direction and headed for the door.

‘I’ll be back in an hour,’ he promised blandly. ‘Nice to meet you, Mr Taylor.’

And with that, he was gone, and Fliss was left to face her father’s undoubted irritation. The door had scarcely closed behind Matt before he snapped, ‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on between you and that man? Why would he think he had the right to come here at—’ he consulted his wrist-watch before continuing—‘at seven-thirty in the morning? Has he been here all night?’

Fliss’s jaw dropped. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’

‘What’s ridiculous about it? I didn’t hear a car, and you’re hardly dressed to receive visitors.’ His lips pursed with annoyance as he viewed her attire. ‘And couldn’t you buy yourself some nightgowns? What must he think, finding you wearing men’s underpants to sleep in?’

‘They’re boxers,’ Fliss corrected him shortly. ‘And they’re very comfortable, actually.’

‘No doubt.’ Her father sniffed. ‘Well? What’s all this about?’

Fliss expelled an exasperated breath, but before she could answer the door opened again and Amy and Harvey bounded in. ‘Is it true?’ the little girl demanded as Harvey raced wildly about the room. ‘Are we really going out with Quinn? He said we were. He said you’d said we could all go to the beach.’

‘Amy—’

‘I think your mother’s taken leave of her senses,’ retorted her grandfather dauntingly. ‘I never approved of her going to work for that man, but getting you involved as well—’

‘I didn’t get Amy involved,’ protested Fliss quickly, not prepared to be blamed for something that really wasn’t her fault. ‘It was Amy who let Harvey into Matt’s garden.’

‘So it’s “Matt’s” garden, is it?’ Her father was scornful. Then he turned to his granddaughter. ‘Is this true, Amy? Did you let Harvey out?’

Amy hunched her shoulders. ‘I might have done.’

‘Either you did or you didn’t.’ Her grandfather regarded her sternly. ‘You know that was a very naughty thing to do, don’t you? Harvey could have run away, or got knocked down. Anything.’

‘No, he couldn’t,’ muttered Amy sulkily. ‘He was safe enough in the garden at the big house.’

Her grandfather gasped. ‘So, you admit you deliberately released the dog in Mr Quinn’s garden?’

Amy looked mutinous. ‘He didn’t mind.’

‘How do you know that?’ Fliss’s father was angry now. ‘You hardly know the man.’

‘I do, too.’ Amy was defiant. ‘I spent all yesterday morning talking to him.’ She took a breath and then added staunchly, ‘He likes me.’

‘Does he?’ George Taylor turned back to his daughter now. ‘Why wasn’t I told about this?’

Fliss sighed. ‘About what?’

‘About Amy spending the morning with that man,’ stated her father grimly. ‘I thought you told me she was going to play outside, as she used to do when you worked for the colonel—’

‘I didn’t always play outside,’ Amy interrupted him quickly, and although Fliss knew the child was only trying to defend herself, she wasn’t doing herself any favours by reminding her grandfather of that. He had always been jealous of the time Amy spent with Colonel Phillips, and of the affection she had had for the old man. ‘We often used to play games—’

‘Be quiet, Amy.’ Her grandfather had heard enough. ‘Well, Fliss? I’m waiting for an answer.’

‘You’re not talking to Amy now, Dad,’ retorted Fliss, deciding her own grievance with her daughter would have to wait. ‘Amy was helping Mr Quinn unpack some books, that was all. He was glad of her company.’

‘And you left her with this man? With a man you hardly know?’ Her father shook his head. ‘I thought you’d have had more sense!’

Fliss stared at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Oh—’ He swung away to lift his coffee mug from the hook and poured himself a cup before saying anything else. Then, aware that she was still watching him, he muttered, ‘I should have thought it was obvious.’

Fliss felt cold. ‘I hope you don’t mean what I think you mean,’ she began, and Amy looked confused.

‘What does Grandad mean?’ she asked innocently, and Fliss realised she couldn’t say anything more in front of her daughter.

‘Your grandfather’s just feeling liverish,’ she said instead, deciding getting dressed would have to wait until after breakfast. ‘Now, I suggest you go and put your clothes on. I’ll get my shower after you’ve finished.’

Amy moved reluctantly towards the door and Fliss was hardly surprised when she paused in the doorway. ‘We are going out, aren’t we, Mummy?’ she asked anxiously. ‘You’re not going to say no because Grandad’s cross?’

Fliss blew out a breath. ‘Just get dressed, Amy,’ she advised the little girl flatly, but Amy was persistent.

‘Are we?’ she pleaded. ‘Please say we are.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ said Fliss, giving her father a reflective look. ‘Now, scoot.’

‘Can I wear my new skirt?’

‘Don’t push your luck,’ Fliss declared drily, and the child had to be content with that.

But after Amy had disappeared upstairs, Fliss turned from taking milk from the refrigerator and said, ‘Why are you being so horrible about this? What have I done to make you think I can’t look after myself and my daughter?’

Her father pulled out a chair at the table and then shook his head. ‘You can ask me that?’

Fliss caught her breath. ‘I was sixteen, Dad.’ She paused. ‘I thought we’d got over that.’

‘We have,’ he muttered, setting his mug on the table and then dropping wearily into his chair. ‘But dammit, Fliss, I’ve told you what I’ve heard about that man.’

‘And what have you heard exactly?’

‘Just what I said—that he’s had some mental problems since he got back from Abuqara.’

‘What kind of mental problems?’

‘I don’t know.’ Her father took a mouthful of his coffee. ‘God knows what state he was in when he got back.’

Fliss sighed. ‘Isn’t this just gossip?’

‘Well, you said yourself he’d left London because he felt he needed space.’

‘So?’

‘So—why would he do that? I mean, as I hear it, the company he worked for were more than willing to give him his old job back.’

‘Perhaps he felt like a change.’

‘Yes.’ Her father reached for the morning newspaper Fliss had picked up from the hall when she came down. ‘Well, in my opinion, no one in their right mind would have turned down the opportunity to pick up where they had left off. Most wouldn’t get the chance.’

Fliss lifted a loaf from the bread bin. ‘Perhaps that was because he was good at his job,’ she said practically, but her father wasn’t having that.

‘And perhaps it’s because he knows he can’t hack it anymore,’ he retorted shortly. ‘Grow up, Fliss. The man’s a kook, and if you can’t see it, you don’t deserve to have responsibility for an impressionable child like Amy.’

Chapter Ten

MATT wasn’t sure whether he’d expected Fliss to back out of the arrangement or what. It had been obvious that her father hadn’t been pleased to find them together and no doubt he exerted quite a lot of influence on her life. And, although Fliss had offered the invitation, he had the feeling she’d expected him to refuse.

What he definitely hadn’t expected, however, was that she and Amy would turn up on his doorstep less than an hour later carrying backpacks and a cooler. Fliss’s face was flushed and even Amy looked a little less exuberant than usual, and he wondered what had been said after he’d left.

‘Hi, Quinn.’ As usual, Amy was the first to speak. ‘Are you ready to go?’

Matt frowned. ‘I can be,’ he said, his eyes on Fliss’s face. Then, ‘You could have used the front door, you know.’

‘We walked,’ said Fliss, and he could tell by her tone that she was embarrassed to admit it. ‘Um—my father’s decided he needs the car today.’

‘No problem. We can use mine.’ Matt stepped back. ‘Come on in. The coffee’s still hot. Help yourself to a cup while I put some shoes on.’

‘Do you have any more of that lemonade I had yesterday?’ asked Amy at once, dumping her backpack just inside the door and looking expectantly round the kitchen.

Her mother gave her a reproving look. ‘You’ve just had breakfast,’ she said, following her daughter inside. ‘You don’t need another drink.’

‘But I’m thirsty,’ protested Amy, and Matt opened the fridge and pulled out a can of cola.

‘Help yourself,’ he said, taking a glass from the cupboard. He hoped it would give him a chance to have a private word with Fliss. He arched his brows in her direction and they moved to the far side of the room. ‘Everything OK?’

‘As it will ever be, I suppose,’ she said tightly, shedding her own backpack, and he found himself staring at her breasts again.

Dragging his eyes away, he said the first thing that came into his head. ‘Your father doesn’t approve of me, does he?’