The Virgin's Seduction

‘Ah.’ Mrs Blackwood pushed the rolls a little further onto the table. ‘Well, you can come through here, Mr Romero.’ She gestured towards another door. ‘That leads to the bootroom. You’ll see another door through there that leads outside.’ She paused. ‘But are you sure you want to go out so early? It’s very cold.’

Jake could believe it. He was glad he’d brought his jacket with him. ‘I’ll be okay,’ he assured her. He nodded at the rolls. ‘New bread! I can’t wait for breakfast.’

‘You can take one with you, if you like,’ offered Mrs Blackwood shyly, and, although Jake was impatient to get going, he couldn’t refuse her.

‘Great,’ he said, selecting one with a golden crust. Then, after taking a bite, almost burning his mouth in the process, he grinned again and made for the door.

Outside, he discovered that she hadn’t been joking. It wasn’t just cold, it was freezing, and ramming the rapidly cooling roll between his teeth, he swiftly shouldered into his jacket. Then, after fastening the buttons, he removed the roll again and set off in the direction he’d seen Eve heading.

It didn’t take long to reach the stable yard. Low buildings occupied two sides of a cobbled courtyard, with the black bulk of a barn dominating the other. And it was from the barn that he could see light emanating. It filtered out, a golden finger penetrating the half open door. If he’d been further way he wouldn’t have seen it, the light swiftly swallowed by the lowering shadows.

He doubted she’d be pleased to see him, but he crossed the yard anyway, still munching on the crusty roll as he rounded the door.

Eve was in the process of forking clean straw onto a handcart. She’d pushed the sleeves of her chunky sweater up to her elbows, and as she bent towards the bales stored against the wall of the barn the back of her jeans exposed a delectable wedge of skin at her waist. But she didn’t seem to feel the cold. Obviously what she was doing was keeping her warm, but he couldn’t help wincing when she jabbed the fork particularly viciously into the stack.

‘Ouch,’ he said softly, and had the doubtful satisfaction of seeing her reaction. He’d startled her, there was no doubt about that, and a becoming wave of colour invaded her pale cheeks.

She straightened automatically. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded, and once again he could hear the barely suppressed impatience in her voice.

‘I thought I’d take a look around,’ he replied easily, finishing the roll and dusting the crumbs from his hands. ‘What are you doing? I thought Cassandra said her mother had sold all the horses.’

‘All but one,’ said Eve shortly. And then, because she resented his impression that he could ask her anything he liked and she’d meekly answer him, she countered, ‘Where’s Cassie?’

Jake shrugged, propping his shoulder against the wall of the barn and putting most of his weight on one leg. ‘In bed, I guess,’ he responded, unbuttoning his jacket and warming his fingertips beneath his arms.

Eve’s fingers tightened round the shaft of the fork. She couldn’t help noticing that by opening his jacket he’d exposed the fact that his tight-fitting jeans were worn in all the most intimate places. The fabric clung lovingly to his shape, soft and textured, and she wondered why a man who apparently had an unlimited income would want to wear something so old.

She’d hardly been aware of how she was appraising him until her eyes returned to his face and encountered his. He’d been watching her, and in an effort to show that he hadn’t fazed her she muttered, ‘Don’t you know?’

Jake’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t I know what?’ he queried innocently, and her momentary spurt of defiance faltered.

‘Don’t you know where—where Cassie is?’ she said, lifting her shoulders in a dismissive gesture. ‘I’d have thought you would.’

‘What you mean is, you thought we’d be sleeping together, right?’ he suggested mildly, evidently enjoying her confusion. ‘Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I slept alone.’ His eyes darkened. ‘Very well, as it happens.’ Which wasn’t entirely true.

‘Oh.’ Eve swallowed. ‘Well—good.’ She turned back to her task and attacked the straw with renewed vigour. ‘I have to get on.’

He straightened. ‘Let me help you.’

Eve’s lips parted and she stared at him with disbelieving eyes. ‘I—don’t think so.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you—’ She moistened her lips before continuing awkwardly, ‘This is a dirty job.’

‘So?’

‘So—I’m sure you don’t want to get all hot and sweaty.’

‘I get hot and sweaty all the time,’ he told her drily. And then, because he could see what she was thinking, he added, ‘I meant working on boats, of course.’

‘I know that.’ Eve’s face felt as if it would never be cool again.

‘Okay.’ His grin said he didn’t believe her. ‘I just didn’t want you to get the wrong impression.’

Eve pursed her lips. ‘I think that’s exactly what you did want me to do,’ she muttered, barely audibly. She sighed. ‘Look, why don’t you go for a walk and let me finish this?’

‘Because I want to see this horse you’re doing all this work for,’ replied Jake, taking off his jacket and flinging it over a rusting oil drum. He came towards her and took the fork from her unresisting fingers. ‘See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?’

Eve took a deep breath and stepped somewhat reluctantly aside. ‘Cassie’s not going to like it,’ she warned, and Jake turned to give her a knowing look.

‘Do you care?’ he said, beginning to fork straw onto the cart with surprising energy. ‘You know, I’m gonna enjoy this. I’ve been sitting on my butt for far too long.’

Eve thought about voicing another protest, but then what he’d said distracted her. ‘I thought you were used to manual labour.’

‘I am.’ Jake loaded the fork and tossed its contents onto the growing pile on the cart. ‘But for the past six weeks I’ve been trailing around Europe checking on orders, arranging contracts, and generally pushing a pen for most of the day.’

Eve hesitated. She badly wanted to know if Cassie had been with him, though why that should be of any interest to her she couldn’t say.

‘Don’t you have an assistant who could handle the grunt work for you?’ she asked, and Jake straightened, flexing his back muscles as he gave her a narrow-eyed stare.

‘Why don’t you ask right out whether Cassandra accompanied me?’ he said, massaging his spine with a grateful hand. ‘That’s what you mean, isn’t it? Has Cassandra’s mother given you the job of finding out what my intentions are?’

‘No!’ Eve was indignant. ‘And whether or not Cassie went with you is nothing to do with me.’

‘Okay.’ His hand moved from the small of his back to rub the flat muscles of his stomach, and Eve’s breath hitched when he accidentally pulled up the front of his sweater and a cloud of night-dark hair spilled into the gap. The pull of an attraction that was as unwelcome as it was primitive swept over her, and she had turned hurriedly away when he said, ‘Well, for your information, then, Cassandra stayed in London.’

‘Whatever.’ Eve didn’t look back. Squaring her shoulders, she said, ‘In any case, that’s enough straw. If you want to see Storm, it’s this way.’

She slipped out of the door and Jake pulled on his jacket, feeling vaguely irritated that she was treating him so offhandedly. What had he said—or done, come to that—to warrant the cold shoulder she was presently giving him? No, scrub that, he amended shortly. She’d been giving him the cold shoulder ever since he’d got here, and he didn’t like it.

Deciding that if she wanted the handcart, she could fetch it herself, he buttoned his jacket and followed her outside. The skies were lighter now, but it was just as cold, and he pushed his hands into his jacket pockets as he trudged across the cobbled yard in her wake.

The stables were amazingly warm. Considering only one animal was in residence, he’d expected it to be only marginally less frigid than the barn, but it wasn’t. Unless the company had something to do with it, he thought caustically. Obviously Eve preferred the horse to him.

Storm was stabled at the end of the row. He’d evidently heard them coming and was neighing a welcome as they reached his stall. A solid-looking chestnut, the animal had a distinctive flash of white between his eyes. Intelligent eyes, too, Jake noticed, as it nuzzled Eve’s pockets for sugar or some other treat.

Eve pulled out a small apple and let Storm take it from her hand. He crunched away happily, showing surprisingly good teeth for his age. In Jake’s opinion he wasn’t a young animal, but he looked strong and well-muscled.

‘How old is he?’ Jake asked, when Eve said nothing, and she gave him a scornful look.

‘He’s a she,’ she said, unlatching the gate and attaching a halter. ‘Storm Dancer. And she’s twenty-eight. My—Mrs Robertson used to breed from her when she was younger.’

Jake stepped back to allow her to bring the horse out, and Storm took the opportunity to nip his ear. She didn’t bite him. She was amazingly gentle, actually, and he saw Eve watching her with some surprise.

‘She seems to like me, anyway,’ he said, finding a reluctant humour in the situation. ‘Sorry.’

‘I imagine females usually do,’ retorted Eve hotly, and then turned scarlet when she realised what she’d said.

‘You don’t,’ remarked Jake drily, following her and Storm Dancer along the row of empty stalls, but Eve didn’t look back.

‘I neither like nor dislike you, Mr Romero,’ she said, the words drifting back over her shoulder, but Jake could tell she wasn’t half as indifferent as she was trying to sound.

‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ he said, as they emerged into the morning air again. He held her gaze when she darted a glance towards him. ‘That gives me some hope.’

Eve swallowed. ‘Hope—for what?’

‘That you might come to like me.’ He glanced about him, allowing her to return to her task. ‘Where are we going now?’

‘I’m going to take Storm into the paddock,’ she told him, concentrating on controlling the mare to avoid another visual confrontation. ‘I think you ought to go back to the house. Cassie will be wondering where you are.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘At ten after seven in the morning?’ He grimaced. ‘I doubt it.’

Eve tugged on the halter, causing Storm Dancer to toss her head in protest. ‘You’d know, of course.’

‘Because I’ve slept with her?’ suggested Jake flatly, and once again he saw that he’d disconcerted her.

But he also saw the way she tried to disguise it. ‘Well, you have, haven’t you?’ she demanded fiercely, and instead of feeling angry he knew an almost irresistible urge to take her face between his cold palms and kiss her.

Her mouth looked soft and vulnerable, despite her desperate bid for control, and he wondered how she would taste. He already knew what she smelled like. She probably hadn’t showered before coming to attend to the mare, and the clean scent of her woman’s body was overlaid with the faintest trace of perspiration. He found it an incredible turn-on, incredibly sexy, but it wasn’t a good feeling. Dammit, he’d come here with one woman and now he was lusting after another. What kind of an animal was he when he got a hard-on just being with Eve? What the hell was the matter with him?

The fact that he hadn’t wanted to come here was some comfort, but Cassandra would spit blood if she even suspected he was attracted to her mother’s companion. She’d been trying for more than six months to get him to commit to a relationship, and it was only because he’d had the excuse of business meetings in various parts of Europe that he’d been able to avoid any serious entanglement.

He liked her well enough. She was good company when she wasn’t continually trying to get into his pants. And he’d been glad of her company at many of the parties and social gatherings he’d been invited to while he was in London. But this…This didn’t bear thinking about, and, abandoning any idea of helping Eve to clean out the mare’s stall and spread the fresh straw, he jammed his hands deep into the back pockets of his jeans.

‘Does it matter?’ he asked dispassionately. Then, deliberately emptying his face of any expression, he added, ‘But I guess I’d better go and let her know I haven’t forgotten about her.’

As if that was likely, thought Eve painfully as he strode out of the stable yard. She had the feeling that, however he felt about her, Cassie would make sure she was not easy to forget.

She wished she hadn’t taunted him now. Although she knew she was asking for trouble, something about Jake Romero got under her skin. And, despite her determination not to let him get to her, she’d enjoyed their verbal baiting. Enjoyed being with him, she thought, tugging rather viciously at Storm’s halter again.

And how sick was that?

CHAPTER FOUR

JAKE went up to his room, showered, and changed into navy chinos and a long-sleeved purple polo shirt. He was downstairs again, having breakfast in the morning room, when Cassandra finally made her appearance.

Of Eve there was no sign, but as it was already after nine o’clock he guessed she’d probably left for work. Mrs Robertson was still in her room, of course, resting her ankle. Which was a shame, he reflected, because he would have welcomed the chance to avoid a tête-à-tête with her daughter.

Cassandra trailed into the room, still wearing her dressing gown. A red silk kimono that she’d told him some admirer had brought her from Hong Kong, Jake doubted it was warm enough for Watersmeet in November. But he knew she liked the garment. She thought it flattered her fair colouring. And, as she didn’t appear to be wearing anything under it, Jake guessed where this was going.

‘Darling,’ she exclaimed petulantly, ‘where have you been? I came to your room earlier but you weren’t there, and I was worried. Now, here you are, scarfing down bacon and eggs as if you didn’t have a care in the world.’

‘I don’t.’ Jake had got up at her entrance, but now he subsided into his seat again. He didn’t usually eat a big breakfast, but Mrs Blackwood seemed to think he needed fattening up, and he hadn’t the heart to refuse her. ‘This is good.’

‘It’s also very bad for your arteries,’ said Cassandra irritably. ‘So—where were you?’

‘When?’

Jake was being deliberately obtuse, but Cassandra was like a dog with a bone. ‘Earlier on. When I came to your room,’ she said, running the cord of her robe through her fingers. ‘And don’t tell me you were in the shower, because I looked.’

Jake finished the last morsel of sausage and put his knife and fork aside. ‘I went out,’ he said, relieved at having avoided another confrontation about their sleeping arrangements. Then, in the hope of diverting her, ‘Why don’t you get dressed and go and see how your mother is this morning?’

‘Do I care?’ Cassandra was bitter. ‘She obviously doesn’t give a damn about me. Did you hear her making fun of me—of my acting career last night? Just because I had more sense than to be satisfied with life in this provincial backwater, she takes every opportunity to make me feel small.’

Jake shrugged. He couldn’t deny that Mrs Robertson had been provoking. But he didn’t know the family history, so it was difficult for him to have an opinion. Eve was the one he felt sorry for—caught in the middle of two women who seemed determined to rub one another up the wrong way. Yet Eve had defended Cassandra to her employer, despite the way she’d spoken about her this morning.

‘Anyway, it’s early yet.’ Clearly Cassandra had other matters on her mind. Coming round the table to where he was sitting, she loosened the kimono. It fell open, revealing that his initial suspicions had been right. ‘Why don’t we go back upstairs?’

Jake pushed back his chair and got to his feet. Then he grasped the two sides of the kimono in his hands. But, although he knew she expected him to pull her closer, he jerked the two sides together instead. ‘Go take a cold shower, Cassandra,’ he told her flatly. ‘I want to go out and see something of the countryside around here. If you want to come with me, say so. I’ll give you forty minutes to get dressed.’

He suspected she swore then, but he couldn’t be sure of it. Whatever, she wrapped the kimono about her and marched towards the door. ‘I’ll need at least an hour,’ she said, glancing back at him. ‘Do you think you can entertain yourself for that long?’

It was not a good day. Fridays usually were, but today Eve found it almost impossible to concentrate on her work. The children knew it, and consequently played her up more than usual, and she was forced to use her strictest voice to bring order to the class.

The day didn’t get any better when she was summoned to a staff meeting when lessons were over for the day. They never had staff meetings on Friday afternoons. Most of the teachers who were employed at the small primary school were eager to get home to their families at the end of the working week. But the head teacher’s face was grave when she joined them in the staff room, and Eve had the uneasy premonition that whatever they were about to hear was not going to be good.

She was right. It appeared that Mrs Portman had heard, just that afternoon, that Falconbridge was to be merged with a larger school at East Ridsdale. The local education authority had decided that their school had simply not enough pupils to warrant the expense of keeping it open, and although every effort would be made to find the teachers new posts, by the end of next term Falconbridge Primary would be closed.

There was a stunned silence after Mrs Portman had finished speaking. The women who worked at Falconbridge—and they were exclusively female—considered themselves almost family, and the idea of being split up and sent to different schools was almost as bad for them as it was going to be for the children.

‘But can they do this?’ asked Jennie Salter worriedly. Jennie was a mother herself, and her children were still young enough to come to school with her. ‘I thought I read somewhere that parents were fighting these closures.’

‘Well, they are,’ agreed Mrs Portman ruefully. ‘But I doubt if the parents whose children attend this school will be prepared to fight our education authority—particularly if it means their council tax is going to go up. There simply aren’t enough of them to make a difference.’

‘So the school closes at Easter,’ said Eve, her heart sinking at the thought of having to look for another job.

‘Officially,’ agreed Mrs Portman. ‘But naturally I don’t expect you all to wait until then to look for other posts. Besides, as soon as the news gets out parents will start looking for alternative schools. Not all of them will want their children to travel to East Ridsdale every day—not when there’s a private school in the vicinity.’

‘That’s okay if you can afford it,’ muttered Jennie gloomily, and Eve put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

‘It’s months away yet,’ she said, trying to be optimistic. ‘You never know—you may get a job at Ridsdale and then you could continue taking the children to school yourself.’

‘Fat chance!’

Jennie refused to look on the bright side, and Eve couldn’t really blame her. It was hard enough to find work in this area as it was, without a dozen other people doing the same.

In consequence, she was in a rather downhearted frame of mind when she walked home later that afternoon, and she was in no mood to respond favourably when the Aston Martin swept through the gates ahead of her. Romero was at the wheel, of course, and Cassie was sitting proudly beside him, lifting a languid hand—almost as if she was royalty and Eve was just a paid retainer.

She wasn’t jealous, Eve assured herself fiercely. She’d never had anything from Cassie in the past and she didn’t want anything now. But just occasionally she wished the woman would acknowledge her responsibilities.

The squeal of brakes brought her out of her reverie. The Aston Martin had stopped and was now reversing back towards her. Oh, God, they were going to offer her a lift, she realised sickly. And she could guess whose idea that was.

A window was lowered and Romero looked out. ‘Get in,’ he said. ‘We’ll give you a ride up to the house.’

‘That’s not necessary,’ said Eve stiffly, and Cassandra gave a protracted yawn.

‘I told you she’d say no,’ she declared in a bored tone. ‘Come on, darling. Close the window, can’t you? I’m getting cold.’

Jake’s jaw compressed. Having spent most of the day humouring Cassandra, he wasn’t in the mood to listen to her griping now. But, dammit, Eve wasn’t making it easy for him either, and he was tempted to make some excuse and hightail it back to London before he did something he would surely regret.

Eve looked cold, he thought. Her exotic features were unnaturally pale in the light of the lamps that lit the driveway, and, although she was wearing a navy duffel, the coat didn’t look substantial enough to keep her warm. He forced himself to suppress the irritation he felt at her evident unwillingness to allow him to help her, and, ignoring Cassandra’s protests, he thrust open his door and got out of the car.

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