The Pleasures of Summer (15 page)

‘I have nothing to wear.’ She waved a hand over her white bathrobe. ‘It’s this or my trench coat.’

He grinned. ‘I’m easy with whatever you choose.’ The thought of the body under that robe brought his cock to full attention. Fortunately the table hid it, so he could continue to pretend to be a gentleman.

She looked at him with loathing. ‘I’m not leaving this apartment until I have proper clothes.’

He grimaced, but could see her point. A ride on his motorbike would be a bit draughty wearing only a trench coat. ‘Fair enough. What size are you? I’ll go out and buy you a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.’ After all, he had been the one who cut off her latex number.

‘Are you mad?’ She glowered at him. ‘I’m not letting you pick out anything for me. God knows what you’d
come back with. Probably something slutty with a collar and leash.’

‘Something slutty with a collar and leash looked damn good on you,’ he said, but didn’t object when she pulled out her phone and rang Harrods.

An hour later, he wasn’t smiling. The apartment was awash with clothes. Summer and a tall stylish woman were arguing about cut and colour. Flynn fumed silently. What sort of woman had her own personal shopper in Harrods? And seemed unable to get dressed without trying on six different versions of everything first.

‘These ones bind at the crotch,’ Summer insisted, holding up a pair of ridiculously expensive jeans. ‘I’ll be raw by the time I get off the bike.’

Flynn couldn’t understand what was wrong with a pair of Levi’s.

‘But they are so gorgeous on you. They do amazing things to your bum,’ the other woman said as she stood back to admire yet another pair.

‘Her bum is amazing naked. Now buy a pair and we’ll go.’ Both women glared at him, though there was a trace of colour in Summer’s cheeks. Then they turned their backs and went back to the fascinating subject of fabric, cut and stitching.

For fuck’s sake, how could an intelligent woman like Summer waste her brains on this kind of stuff? He didn’t blame the woman from Harrods, she was only doing her job, but they were acting as if they didn’t have a brain cell between them.

Ten minutes later, he ran out of patience. ‘Okay, Princess. It’s time to go.’

‘Did I just hear you call me Princess?’ Summer’s voice dripped ice.

‘You did. Or to give you the full title, Princess Precious Poodle.’ She gasped, and he went on. ‘This is ridiculous. Pick a pair of jeans and a top and we’re going. Or you can go naked on the back of the bike. See if I care.’

‘Naked?’ She looked around, as if she was seriously searching for something to throw at him. Then, remembering the personal shopper, she contented herself with a glare that could strip paint off a wall. ‘I need a word with you, alone.’

Hugging the bathrobe around her, she marched to the bedroom and closed the door behind them. ‘May I remind you that this is all your fault? You interfered so that I had to sneak out without a change of clothes. You turned up at the club and spoilt my fun. You put a bloody collar on me.’

She was working herself up into a fine rage now. ‘You made me sit at your feet, almost screwed me in the street, and then cut my dress off. And then you fell asleep, you big Scottish …’

‘Half Scottish,’ he said mildly, and was rewarded by the sight of Summer practically frothing at the mouth. ‘And let’s not forget the part played by your charming friends.’

‘Oh! You … !’ She was practically incoherent. ‘And for what? I don’t need you, and I don’t need a bodyguard.’ She spaced out the last few words and prodded him in the chest to get her point across. He appreciated the view of her flashing eyes, and the glimpse down her robe that showed her enticing cleavage before she left the room, slamming the door behind her.

If she wasn’t such a bad-tempered shrew, Summer O’Sullivan would be a very tempting package.

By the time they were heading back to Hampstead, it was almost noon, and Summer was finally dressed. She was also so pissed at him that she refused to speak, and tried to hold herself upright on the back of the bike to avoid touching him. Flynn found he missed the contact.

The house was strangely silent. Natasha and Maya came running as soon as they pulled up outside the front door, with Mike and Gavin following after.

‘Thank god you’re safe,’ Maya sobbed. ‘I was so sure you were dead.’

Flynn was instantly alert. He picked out the most controlled person in the crowd and addressed him. ‘Malcolm, what’s wrong?’

Even the butler appeared rattled. He was his usual stately self, but his voice shook slightly as he said, ‘We found something in Miss O’Sullivan’s room this morning. I wanted to call the police but knowing Mr O’Sullivan’s aversion to publicity, I thought I would ask you first.’

He led them upstairs to Summer’s room. It looked almost the same as when she had left it, with clothes tossed on the floor, the curtains drawn and a life-like blonde figure in the bed. The difference was that the body in the bed now had a knife in it. The knife, a Sabatier if Flynn was any judge, was sticking into where, had it been a real person, the heart would have been.

Summer moaned in distress. Flynn turned to her. She had turned white, but as he watched, the shutters went
down, shielding her emotions. Just how much was she hiding? Malcolm cleared his throat.

‘There’s more, sir.’ He led them into Summer’s bathroom. Scrawled across the mirror in bright red lipstick were the words, ‘DIE BITCH!’

‘Bugger. That was my last tube of Vamp.’

‘How can you think about lipstick at a time like this?’ Maya wailed. ‘Someone tried to kill you.’

‘Nonsense. It’s just a silly joke,’ Summer said, but Flynn noticed her hands were shaking slightly as she picked up the now empty tube. ‘I’m just annoyed they used it all up.’

‘You’re vamp enough without the lipstick,’ he told her brusquely. The last thing they needed was Summer having hysterics. He turned to the butler. ‘I’ll check the security system. Don’t worry, I’ll soon find out who did this.’

Twenty minutes later, he cursed, using a string of foul words in creative combinations. So much for his hope that it was a practical joke by one of the houseguests. Whoever had done it had not only managed to sneak in undetected, they had also disabled the entire security system for over twenty minutes. He had to acquit the guests – they were all playing Wii in the lounge when the system went down, and were still there, with a much higher score, when it went back online. Besides, they had all hooked up. Neither of the guys had a reason to be mad at Summer, and he’d bet money that this was a man’s work.

He would question all the servants, but he knew what he’d find. A big fat nothing.

Before he started, he put his head back into Summer’s room. ‘Start packing. I’m taking you to a safe house.’

A safe house? Flynn had to be kidding. They had a state-of-the-art security system. Her dad still winced when he remembered the cost of it, and Flynn had upgraded it when he arrived. And she had a bodyguard. Just how much more security did she need? ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

His mouth formed a hard line. She could tell that he was going to be stubborn about this. She couldn’t live her life like some kind of prisoner. Just because she’d slept with Flynn didn’t mean that he was in charge.

‘Fine.’ He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone and scrolled through the display. ‘You can tell your father what happened while I make transport arrangements for Castletownberehaven.’

Bloody stubborn Scot. He wasn’t going to ship her off to her grandmother’s. She would rather chew her own toenails than go back there. Summer ignored the phone he was holding out. If she rang her dad now he would be worried. It was the last thing he needed when he was in the middle of negotiations with the Americans.

Maya put her hand on her arm. ‘Maybe you should go, Summer. Mike and Gavin are packing. They need to get back for training tomorrow, and I’d hate to think of you here on your own.’

She had a choice of being stuck here with Flynn and a psycho or stuck somewhere else with Flynn. Neither
prospect appealed to her. She didn’t want to think about last night, or how he had made her feel. If she was honest, the sex had been pretty amazing. It had far surpassed any fantasy she had ever had. But in the bedroom, when he had tortured her with pleasure, she had seen another side of Flynn.

He would use her own needs to control her. She had a sneaking suspicion that Flynn would demand more from her than just obedience in the bedroom. Unlike some of her friends, she had never been able to separate the physical from the emotional in relationships. One always followed the other, as surely as night followed day. Look at the awful mess with Adam. There was something wrong with her that she couldn’t do casual. When she fell in love, she fell hard and she wanted everything.

Yes, she would have to be careful with Flynn. She was never getting emotionally involved again. Not in a million years.

She sighed. ‘Okay then. Where are we going and for how long?’

‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.’

‘But what am I to tell my friends?’

‘For your own safety, as little as possible. Now, throw some things in a bag. The sooner we get on the road, the better.’

It was like dealing with a brick wall. ‘Fine,’ she snapped. ‘As you won’t tell me where we’re going or for how long, I’ll leave you to do the packing.’

Maya’s giggle was silenced by a stern glance from Flynn. Ignoring him, Summer strode past him and down the corridor. Let’s see how Mr I’m-in-charge coped with that one.

‘You are so bad, Summer.’ Maya was still giggling. ‘You’re just going to let him riffle through your lingerie?’

‘Why not? It’s not as if he hasn’t …’ The words were out of her mouth before she realized what she had said.

Maya grabbed her arm. ‘OMG! You haven’t? Tell me you haven’t bonked the bodyguard?’

‘Who’s bonking the bodyguard?’ Natasha emerged from the bedroom carrying her bag.

‘Will you both shut up?’ Summer hissed. She was going to kill Molly. She had warned her not to tell Robert about Flynn, but her friend had obviously taken it literally and told everyone else.

‘It was a one-time thing and it’s not happening again.’

Natasha ignored her. ‘I bet he was hot. That accent, mmmm. And I bet he’s ex-military. Those guys are really buff and –’

Summer put her hands up to her ears. ‘Not listening.’

Maya nudged Natasha. ‘Summer’s back on form. Everyone stand back.’

She left them laughing like a pair of demented hyenas while she went to phone Molly.

The number rang and rang. She was just about to give up when a sleepy voice answered the phone. ‘Hello.’

‘Molls?’

‘Um. Summer? What happened to you last night?’

‘What happened to me? You left me in that bloody club alone and now Flynn’s found out.’

‘Oh shit. Peter said he’d take care of you. You’re mad at me, aren’t you?’ Molly’s voice trailed away miserably.

Summer closed her eyes. If Molly had been within two feet of her, she would have slapped her. How could she
have done that and then act as if nothing had happened? ‘If you’re referring to the fact that you left me with that cretin in a tricorne and no way of getting home, yes, I am mad at you.’

Silence stretched between them. ‘Sorry about that,’ Molly eventually replied. ‘Some of Robert’s business people turned up. They were –’

The phone line suddenly went dead. Summer hit the redial button, but the number was engaged. What was up with Molly?

The lounge door opened. ‘Are you ready? We’ve a long ride ahead of us.’

Summer put her phone into her pocket so she could ring Molly later. She followed Flynn outside. The Aussies were already in their truck. Gavin waved and they sped off with a scatter of gravel. Maya hugged her and Natasha smirked at Flynn and winked at her before they followed the Aussies, honking the horn as they drove away.

The party was definitely over. Summer eyed the battered rucksack at Flynn’s feet. She hadn’t used it since she had Inter-railed across Europe. How had he unearthed it? ‘Which car are we taking?’

Flynn gave a disapproving snort. ‘None of those flashy cars are suitable,’ he replied. ‘They’ll attract too much attention. We’ll take the bike. Niall will meet us with transport.’

Transport. What did he mean, ‘transport’? She glanced at the small carrier on the back of the bike. Flynn’s bag was already stowed. ‘But what about the rest of my luggage?’

Another snort, this time accompanied by a twitch of
his mouth. Flynn picked up her rucksack and tossed it on top of his. ‘This is your luggage.’

Two hours later she was ready to kill him and she had a pain in her butt from sitting on the bike. Flynn had finally pulled in at a service station because she insisted that she had to pee. He hadn’t allowed her to remove the rucksack from the carrier. Phone at his ear, he had paced the forecourt like a caged beast until she returned from the grubby ladies room. She’d hate to be on the other end of that particular conversation.

Who did he think he was? She wasn’t a soldier to be bossed around like this. Given the amount of luggage he had brought, they couldn’t be going far or staying long. The rucksack would barely hold her make-up and hair care products.