To Tame the Playboy. Kate HardyЧитать онлайн книгу.
put her hand to her mouth, suddenly realizing she’d forgotten to take any for the last two days. Oh, well, she’d take one tomorrow.
Outside the huge gate, she stopped for a moment, wondering whether to go up the hill or down to the valley—the direction in which Sebastian had driven them to the pub the other night. Downhill sounded the better option, she thought, turning decisively and starting to make her way along the narrow, high-hedged road.
She’d hardly gone any distance when she heard a car approaching rapidly behind her and she instinctively stood back, well into the side. It wasn’t a car—it was a Land Rover, with Sebastian at the wheel, and he immediately pulled up and spoke through the open window.
‘Good morning. Want a lift? Do you know where you’re going?’ he asked.
Fleur smiled faintly—this was just what she was trying to avoid. ‘No—on both counts, thanks,’ she said. ‘I’m just going to have a look around, sort of get my bearings.’ She paused, conscious that he was staring unashamedly at her, right into her eyes, burrowing his way into her soul! She hoped he approved of the thick jacket of Mia’s that she was wearing, with its fur-lined hood framing her face. But his expression remained as it always was—curiously unfathomable—and it had its usual effect so that she quickly tore her gaze away. ‘What’s at the bottom of this hill?’ she asked, pointing ahead.
‘Well, when you get there—and it’s more than a mile—there are some houses, cottages, a couple of farms, a few shops, the village hall and the pub. Which you’ve already been in,’ he said. ‘Plus the river, of course—which is in full flood at the moment.’ He paused. ‘Why don’t you hop in—I can at least give you a ride one way.’
Fleur hesitated, then, ‘Oh, go on, then,’ she said, slightly reluctantly. Her plan had been to give him a wide berth today, to keep clear of Pengarroth Hall and not be under his feet, but thanks to him, that plan had come unstuck straight away.
He leaned across and opened the passenger door, stretching out his hand to pull her up as she climbed aboard. His firm grasp enveloped her hand and she slammed the door quickly behind her, not looking across at him as he revved the engine. They set off down the hill at considerable speed and after a moment Fleur did turn her head. He was wearing heavy-duty gear, as before, she noted, though the sturdy fabric of his trousers couldn’t disguise the strength of his firm thighs. But his hands, brown and lean as he held the steering wheel, were surprisingly smooth, the fingers long and sensitive. Which was hardly surprising, Fleur thought, because although today he could be mistaken for a farmer, he was a businessman, a lawyer. A man of many parts, and of obvious distinction. She sighed briefly. Why was she dissecting him like this? she asked herself. He was just another male person, the sort she came across all the time. But…no…that wasn’t true, she acknowledged. She couldn’t remember ever having been in the company of someone so outstandingly handsome, so out-of-your-mind gorgeous. The fact that he had an undoubtedly imperious streak was a bit of a turn-off—she remembered their first encounter!—and yet, who could blame him? He had a lot of responsibilities, both here and in London. A weak-minded individual wouldn’t get very far. But he was obviously capable of other, much more likeable qualities—proved by his affection and care for Mia. On balance, Fleur thought wryly, she’d be very happy to have him for a brother.
‘You’re quiet,’ he observed non-committally. ‘Are you feeling OK?’
Fleur looked at him sharply. ‘Why do you ask? I’m fine, thank you.’
‘Oh, it was only that Mia hinted you’d been off colour lately, that’s all. Though you look good to me,’ he added, smiling briefly across at her.
Oh, Mia, really! Fleur thought. She didn’t want her health discussed—certainly not with Sebastian. He probably thought he’d have to be on standby to ring the doctor in the middle of the night if she had a funny turn! She gave a short unnecessary cough. ‘I’ve been suffering from a slight case of over-work, that’s all,’ she said lightly. ‘This time away is already working wonders—plus Pat’s wonderful meals, of course. So there’s no need for you…for anyone…to worry about me.’
‘I wasn’t worried,’ he said casually.
‘That’s all right, then,’ she replied.
They reached the bottom of the hill and he pulled up and drew into the side of the road. ‘I’m seeing someone at this farm here, for an hour,’ he said, and Fleur shrugged inwardly. He didn’t have to explain his whereabouts to her. ‘There are plenty of good walks around for you to try,’ he went on, ‘and there are the shops, over there—though I think your money’s safe enough!’ He paused. ‘If you find your way down to the river, be careful. It’s very wet, and it’ll be muddy. I don’t want to have to come and fish you out.’
Fleur opened the door and got out, slamming it shut. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘Thanks for the lift.’
She stood back as he drove off, and she watched him take a sharp turn left and disappear up a farm track.
She started walking along slowly, revelling in her surroundings and the almost traffic free road, and comparing it all with manic London and the frantically busy hospital she worked at. But could anyone be really happy here, all the time? she wondered. She remembered Sebastian’s words, and his obvious regret that soon he would have to give up practising law, cut off that part of his life, presumably for ever. It was bound to be hard for him at first, she thought. Then she shrugged. Why was she concerned about him? They were his problems, not hers.
After strolling around for about an hour, Fleur’s steps automatically took her along the public footpath towards the river. She could hear it before she saw it and, when she did, Sebastian had been right. It was brimful, and gurgling along happily. As if to complete the picture, a watery sun suddenly broke through the clouds, slanting its rays through the trees, and Fleur stopped. What a great picnic spot this must be in the summer. Yet did the locals ever really appreciate what was on their doorstep? she wondered.
She began treading carefully along the undulating path, her eyes riveted to the magnetic sight of the water bubbling along beside her, when, without any warning at all, and as if by an unseen force, both her feet shot from beneath her on the slimy undergrowth and she landed full-length with a thud, ending with a slithery slide, her hands flailing helplessly about as they tried to find something to hold on to.
She lay there for a few seconds, wondering how she was going to get up. She’d have to be careful—everywhere around her was wet and there was plenty of potential for further disaster—though thankfully she was well away from the water’s edge.
She saw that she was generously smeared with mud, which she foolishly transferred to her face as she wiped her now running nose with the back of her hand, and she groaned. Whatever must she look like? Staring down at herself helplessly, she saw that Mia’s jacket was plastered all down one side, and on the front, and she knew that somehow she must get back to Pengarroth Hall before anyone saw her. And, to achieve that, there was that long trek back up the hill first…
Gingerly, she moved on to her side and grasped a convenient piece of log, which allowed her some support as she got to her feet, very relieved that she didn’t seem to have hurt herself. The only thing hurt was her pride! What an idiotic thing to have happened, she scolded herself crossly—and she had nothing with her to try and repair the damage, either. She’d only come with a couple of tissues and a ten pound note in her pocket, which were no help at all. It was very unlike her not to be better equipped—she usually never went anywhere without her precious handbag, which always contained all the essentials. In fact, without it she almost felt undressed.
Now, she turned and began climbing upwards on to a higher path away from the water, her eyes intent on watching where she was treading, when Sebastian’s deep voice made her look up quickly. He stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, the merest semblance of that crooked smile playing lightly on his lips.
‘Oh…dear me…’ was all he said, as he looked her up and down, and Fleur gritted her teeth, feeling overwhelmingly awkward. As she climbed closer