The Pleasures of Summer (37 page)

It looked as if she had a new bodyguard – but not for long. After supper, she pleaded a headache and wished him goodnight. She wasn’t lying, she did have a pain. A big aching one, where her heart should have been. On the way to her room, she ran into David.

He took in her ashen face. ‘Don’t worry. Flynn always comes back.’

‘Why does everyone assume that there is something going on between us? I’m just a job to him.’ She hadn’t meant to snap at David but his sympathy was more than she could bear. She brushed past him into the kitchen, away from his perceptive eyes, and busied herself pouring a glass of water.

She wasn’t prepared when he came up behind her and enveloped her in a hug. Summer put the glass on the counter and turned in his arms, burying her face in the warmth of his sweater.

He held her tightly and murmured against her hair. ‘Just say the word, and the minute he comes home I’ll drag him outside and let him beat the crap out of me.’

She raised her head and managed a half smile. ‘Thanks for the offer, but no. I’ll be fine.’

‘Has he hurt you? Do you want me to speak to him when he gets back?’

Summer shook her head. ‘There’s no point. There’s nothing left to say.’ She made her way to her room and threw herself onto the bed. It was a long time before her eyes closed.

After a night of staring at the ceiling, she slept late and when she woke the alarm clock told her that it was almost noon. She tumbled out of bed and headed for the shower. There was no point in packing; it would alert her new bodyguard. Besides, she didn’t want to see any of this stuff again. There were too many memories.

The house was quiet. There was only her and McEntaggart.

‘You’re awake then. They’ve gone to Turlochmor to do some shopping. They should be back late this afternoon.’

‘Damn, I wanted to go with them. I could do with a break from the house. I don’t suppose you’d like to drive me into town?’

McEntaggart raised an eyebrow. ‘Not a chance. Niall said you were to stay here until the job was over.’

Bugger. She thought that because he was older, he would be a pushover. There was one thing she could try. ‘You don’t understand. I need to go to the pharmacy.’

He shook his head.

‘I really need to go to the pharmacy. For some Tampax.’

A slow, red flush climbed up the older man’s neck and Summer almost felt sorry for him.

She gave him her best pleading look. ‘I only need to go to one shop. We can be back in less than an hour. No one needs to know.’

‘Well, I suppose it is only the village.’

Summer hated lying to him, but she had to get out of here. By 3 p.m. she would be on her way home again. She hurried to her room; there were only a couple of things she could take with her. She shoved them into her pocket.

As they took the road out of the glen, she risked a final glance behind at the loch. In the distance she could see a small, dark shape near the water. The croft. Blinking away the threatening tears, she turned around and concentrated on the road ahead.

Turlochmor was a one-street town of dour grey buildings and cheerful shop fronts. It wouldn’t take long to explore every inch of it. A red delivery van was parked outside the pharmacy and McEntaggart was forced to drive up the street to find a parking spot.

‘You can drop me off here. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.’ Without waiting for his agreement, she opened the car door and strode down the street, searching for the post office. As she crossed a side road, she heard a car horn.

The green jaguar looked out of place in the small country village.

‘Summer!’ Molly opened the passenger door.

Heart racing, Summer hurried down the side street and clambered into the car. Molly hugged her. ‘Oh thank god. I had no idea where you vanished to and Robert was so worried about you. Weren’t you, darling?’

Summer was almost afraid to turn her head. She glanced in the rear-view mirror. Lounging in the back seat was Robert Fielding.

The drive back to London was different to the ride north almost a month before. Molly kept up an endless stream of chatter all the way about Wimbledon, weddings and who was dating who in the party set. Summer couldn’t remember which stick-thin blonde was which and she didn’t care. All she could think about was Flynn. She tried to smile and appear interested, giving the occasional nod or monosyllabic response while parrying questions about why she had been in Scotland

They stopped at York for an early dinner, passing the car park where she had met Niall and the others. Summer felt a pang of shame when she remembered what a spoilt bitch she had been then. How much a month could change things.

Robert took them to the Blue Bicycle, a little restaurant near the canal. The exquisite fish starter was served on slates. It was the finest meal she had eaten for a month, but she would have given anything to be sitting at the rough table at the croft, drinking tepid scrumpy and eating trout fresh from the loch. She pushed her plate away.

Molly pressed her hand. ‘You’ve hardly eaten anything. Are you feeling all right?’

She shook her head and tried to summon a smile. ‘I’m fine. It’s been a rough month.’

‘It’s over now. Don’t worry. Everything will be back to normal when we get to London. You’ll see.’

That was the problem. She didn’t know what normal was anymore. Her old life of shopping and endless parties seemed facile and empty. Just how many pairs of Louboutins did a girl need, anyway?

‘Has your father returned from America?’ Robert asked. ‘Will there be someone at the London house to meet you?’

She hadn’t thought of that. Her dad was still in Atlanta, but some alone time would be good. She needed to think about her future. ‘I’ll be fine.’

Robert took over the driving when they left York and Summer took the opportunity to nap. When she woke they were outside Molly’s apartment. Summer climbed out of the car and stretched.

‘Are you sure you won’t stay with me for a few days?’ Molly asked. ‘I hate to think of you being alone.’

‘I’m fine, Molls,’ she said, hugging her friend. ‘Thanks for coming for me. I’ll ring you in a couple of days and we’ll catch up.’

‘You better,’ Molly whispered. ‘And I want to hear everything.’

Robert opened the passenger door. ‘Climb in, I’ll drop you home.’

She was about to protest when she realized that she had nothing but the clothes she stood up in and no one to call. Summer slid into the passenger seat and waved to Molly. Robert was silent as he negotiated the late night traffic and she could feel her eyes closing again.

‘So, you’ve finished with your little Scottish adventure?’

‘What? Um yes. There’s no need for me to stay there any longer. Dad is back in a couple of days.’

‘He’ll be glad to have his precious little girl back, hmmm? Although your
boyfriend
really should have seen you safely back to London.’

She didn’t bother replying. Robert might be Molly’s Dom, but that didn’t give him the right to question her and there was no way that she would discuss Flynn with him.

He took his eyes off the road for a moment to give her a speculative glance. ‘I think a month in the country has changed you.’

If only he knew. Each time she closed her eyes, her mind was flooded with images of Flynn and their time together. Late nights in front of the fire, the scent of his soap, the feel of his rough hands on her skin. She blinked the images away. It was all a lie.
Stop thinking about him.

They pulled up at the gates to the house and Summer put in the code to open them. The house was in darkness and she doubted if any of the staff were still up.

Ever the gentleman, Robert stayed while she rang the bell and waited. Flynn hadn’t thought to pack her keys and even if he had, they would still be in Turlochmor. No lights came on in the house. She rang again, keeping her finger on the bell and listening as it echoed in the hall. Why wasn’t there someone on duty?

‘Let’s try round the back,’ she suggested.

‘I’ll go,’ Robert offered.

Just then a light came on in the hall and the door was opened by a bleary-eyed Malcolm. When he saw her, he stood to attention and pulled his woollen dressing gown around him. ‘Miss Summer, we weren’t expecting you until Wednesday.’

‘Change of plans,’ she announced.

‘But, but you don’t understand, madam. The chef is on a night off and …’

Summer followed him down the hallway into the sitting room. Despite her tiredness, Summer wanted to laugh. Chef? She had been catching and cooking her own food for the past month. She would manage to do battle with a well-stocked larder and a twenty-first century kitchen. A giggle escaped when she noticed the perfectly ironed crease in Malcolm’s pale blue pyjamas.

‘She’s just overtired,’ Robert assured Malcolm. ‘We’ve had a long journey.’

‘I see.’ The frosty expression on Malcolm’s face belied his polite response. ‘Will you be staying, sir?’

Robert looked to Summer for her approval. The last thing she needed was a guest, but she couldn’t really expect him to drive back to the other side of the city at this hour of the night. ‘Of course, please stay. You’ve done enough driving for today.’

‘One of the guest rooms on the first floor is ready, madam, or perhaps you’d like me to prepare the adjoining –’

‘The first floor will be fine. That will be all, Malcolm.’

He inclined his head stiffly and left the room.

Even in a full-length dressing gown, Malcolm still managed to look disapproving. The cheek of him. Did he really think that she wanted Robert in the adjoining room, or that she would sleep with any male guest? She really would have to speak to her father about him.

As the door closed, Robert put his hand on her shoulder. She spun around, stumbling against him and Robert’s
arm slid around her waist. ‘Of course, I wouldn’t mind sharing with you.’

‘What?’ she shook her head, willing her brain to work. What was Robert up to? Did he really think that she would let him touch her? ‘But you’re Molly’s –’

‘Molly is mine. There is a subtle difference. Perhaps you’d like a demonstration.’

He propelled her backwards until her knees hit the edge of the couch and she struggled not to fall. Summer pressed her palms against his shoulders and shoved hard. Robert was stronger than she imagined. Her hands met solid muscle and he barely moved an inch. ‘I said stop.’

‘I know you don’t mean that.’ Robert grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged her head back. His mouth slammed down on hers and he tumbled them onto the couch.

She struggled to breathe with the combination of his weight crushing her and his seeking mouth. Summer thumped her fists against his back, trying to dislodge him. He dragged his mouth away. ‘What’s the matter? You weren’t so fussy with the Scot.’

Summer arched her back and lifted her left leg, trying to dislodge him, but her struggles only seemed to inflame him more. He tugged her hair harder and she cried out, ‘Don’t.’

‘That’s it, cry. But I doubt if dear old Malcolm can hear you from the servants’ quarters.’ Robert insinuated his hips between her thighs and rubbed his hard shaft against her. ‘See what you’ve done to me. You’re a very bad girl. I could tell that night at the club. You want someone to take charge, to dominate you.’

With his free hand, he grabbed the neck of her T-shirt
and pulled hard until the thin cotton tore, exposing her bra. Shoving the lacy fabric aside, he lowered his mouth to her breast.

The touch of his mouth broke something inside her. She struggled wildly and managed to free her trapped arm. Forming a fist, she struck him on the cheekbone and his head rocked back. ‘Get off me,’ she spat out the words. ‘Get the fuck off me.’

Her fury made him hesitate. He rose to his feet and adjusted his clothing. ‘Perhaps I’ve come on a little strongly. Molly told me about your fantasies. I was simply trying to give you what you needed.’

She pulled the edges of her torn T-shirt together and stared at him incredulously. ‘My fantasies? You sick twisted … Get out of here. Get out.’

With a curt nod, Robert left the room. She heard the front door slam and his car roar down the driveway. Summer lay on the couch, unable to move. A tear splashed on to her cheek and she rubbed it away impatiently.

He wasn’t worth crying over. She should call someone, but the only one she wanted was Flynn and he didn’t want her. Summer continued to tremble. Outside, the first rays of sunshine peeked through a crack in the drapes. Feeling like an old woman, she climbed off the couch and made her way up the stairs to her room. She dropped her clothes into the basket beside her dressing table. She never wanted to see any of them again.

In the shower she turned the spray on full. The water pounded on her face and shoulders. She scrubbed her skin until it was red and every trace of Robert’s touch had been washed away. She dried herself off and wrapped a
towel around her hair. Wiping the steam from the mirror, she stared at her ashen face. She had never felt so utterly alone.

It was almost nine when she padded downstairs for breakfast. There was no sign of Malcolm. On the dining room table, beside a covered silver dish and a pot of freshly brewed coffee, was a note.