The Pleasures of Summer (5 page)

‘Who are they?’ Flynn asked, bringing two pairs of identical blue eyes in his direction. He didn’t care if he was interrupting a family dispute.

‘What business is it of yours?’ Summer demanded.

‘I’m in charge of keeping you safe; I need to know who they are so I can run a background check on them.’ He did his best to keep his voice level, remembering all Niall’s warnings about not pissing off the principal.

There was a flash of something that looked like fear on her face, but she answered readily enough. ‘Maya Wilson-Smythe and Natasha fForbes.’

‘You’re kidding me!’ No one had names like that in real life, did they?

She gave him a frosty glare. ‘Do you have a problem with that?’

‘No, should make them easy to track down. I’ll know everything about them, back to the time of their conception.’ There was that flicker of uneasiness again. Summer O’Sullivan was hiding something.

He hadn’t been in Dunboy House for an hour before Malcolm had given him the polite version of how Summer had got the other bodyguards sacked. Any details the painfully polite butler had left out, the new maid and the chef had filled in for him. The chef had added a number of choice epithets about bossy little madams who thought he didn’t know how to do his job. Jean Carrier didn’t like Summer’s attitude any more than Flynn himself did.

‘Pair of bimbos,’ continued O’Sullivan. ‘You know what, I’m going to invite your cousin Sinead to come and keep you company.’ He ignored Summer’s protests and picked up his phone to send a brief message. ‘There. She’ll probably join you tomorrow or the next day.’

‘Dad, that’s not fair. I had to put up with her for years in boarding school and at college. It’s too much to expect me to endure her pulling a sour face at me now.’

O’Sullivan ignored her and turned to Flynn. ‘You know what you have to do? Not only are you to keep Summer safe, you are to keep her out of trouble. The last thing I need when I’m in America are reports that my daughter is dragging my reputation through the mud again. There are to be no scandals, no photographs in the tabloids. Nothing! Understood?’

Flynn nodded while Summer pouted mutinously. ‘I’ve already arranged for an improved security system on the house. That will be installed today. And I’ll get Mr Moore to send a couple of female bodyguards along as backup.’

‘What? No!’ Summer’s outrage was genuine. ‘That’s not necessary.’

‘It’s the bare minimum required to keep her safe if she goes anywhere,’ Flynn said calmly. ‘Your choice, sir.’

With her face flushed with indignation, Summer looked younger and prettier and very fuckable. This morning, she was all sweet little girl next door. ‘No, Dad, please, I don’t need more strangers in the house. I promise I won’t get into any trouble or do anything to make Mr Grant’s work difficult.’

‘You’ll obey my rules?’ Flynn asked.

She nodded mutinously.

‘And do what I tell you?’

Another nod.

‘Everything I tell you?’

Those stormy blue eyes flashed, but she nodded. ‘I won’t be any trouble.’

Flynn didn’t believe a word of it, and wondered exactly what Summer O’Sullivan was up to. He’d bet his best H&K sub-machine gun it was trouble.

Tim agreed that the female bodyguards were unnecessary and then departed amid a flurry of cursing, last minute instructions, hugs and what looked like genuine tears from Summer. Looks like the little madam really would miss her father. Or maybe she would just miss having someone she could wind around her perfectly manicured fingers?

Summer checked her watch again. Natasha and Maya were on their way and darling Mike was bringing his Australian friend Gavin. She had put the girls and guys in guest rooms on different floors – no point in spoiling them. She hadn’t told Flynn or her dad that she had invited other guests – Molly and her new boyfriend, Robert. Molly sounded really excited on the phone and said that she had lots of news. Robert was an actual Dom and he was going to vet Summer’s application to attend
Noir
. Her heart raced at the prospect.

The only fly in the ointment was Flynn. Without asking her permission, the arrogant Scot had moved into the adjoining room and organized a locksmith to break open the sealed-up doorway between the two suites. His excuse was that he needed access to her quickly in case of danger.

She was still fuming over that one. The only danger she was in was the prospect of living like a nun for the next few days. She and Flynn needed to have a heart-to-heart. It was time to put him in his place.

Without bothering to knock, she opened the newly restored door. The short hallway between the rooms was lined with cupboards. Well, she could always do with more wardrobe space. She hesitated at the closed door and decided not to bother knocking. He was staff, for god’s sake.

Summer pushed her way inside. The door of his bathroom was closed and the bedroom was empty. There was no harm having a quick peek through his things. She riffled through his clothing. Lots of plain things. Dark coloured, but good quality. A toilet bag beckoned and she unzipped it. Standard stuff. Razor. Soap that smelled like vetivert. She quite liked that. Condoms – two packs, neither of which had been opened. She scowled. Hardly surprising, given his complete lack of skill in the charm department.

She picked up a bottle of Etro and sniffed. Flynn knew his stuff, but what was he doing with expensive Italian cologne, when he insisted on going around dressed like a tramp?

Summer stubbed her toe on something under the bed. What could he be hiding? Kneeling down, she found a dark, heavy carryall. She tugged hard and landed in an ungainly heap on her ass.

‘You idiot,’ she muttered. It felt like weights. Maybe he had brought his own gym. There was a fully equipped one in the basement. Served him right for not asking first. She
pulled the zipper down and congratulated herself when she heard the clank of metal. She was right. It had to be gym stuff.

The metal bar was dark and long and had a funny end on it. Hardly something she could hang weights on. She reached inside and found a handle. Well, not a handle exactly. It was cool and heavy to the touch. Summer pulled it free. It was a gun. An honest-to-god, scare-the-knickers-off-you gun. Sweet mother of Jesus. Flynn had brought weapons into the house.

Summer was glad she was kneeling down. She wasn’t sure if her legs would have held her up. The door opened and she had no place to hide.

‘Do you make a habit of riffling through everyone’s luggage, or just the stuff belonging to the hired help?’

Flynn’s eyes narrowed and she wasn’t sure if it was disapproval at finding her with enough weapons to start a small war, or the fact that she was showing quite a lot of leg. She itched to tug her short skirt down but she gritted her teeth and suppressed it. She was more than a match for Flynn and this wasn’t the time to show weakness. ‘Were you planning to rob a bank this weekend?’

A grin quirked his mouth before he broke into a genuine smile, softening the harsh planes of his face. ‘No. If I were robbing a bank, I would have brought the C4. It’s quicker,’ he said.

‘What’s C4?’

‘My favourite explosive,’ he said with a grin.

‘So all of this is for me?’ Summer stroked the dark metal barrel, pleased when she caught a trace of nervousness on his face.

‘All for you, darling.’ The face was stern again, the hint of humour gone.

She didn’t know what to say. A small shiver raced down her spine. Flynn had guns. This wasn’t a joke any longer. Her dad was gone, and she was stuck here with Action Man. This was
so
not happening. She scrambled to her feet and brushed past him. ‘Just keep them out of sight,’ she said brusquely.

The alarm alerted Flynn when the first car arrived at the outside gate. ‘Who is it?’ he demanded.

‘Er, it’s Maya and Natasha,’ an uncertain voice replied. ‘This is Dunboy House, isn’t it?’

Through the CCTV camera, he could see two blondes in an open-top red Mercedes. One was touching up her lipstick in the rear view mirror. The driver was looking around as if she had no idea where she was.

He took a photo of the car’s number plate and pressed the button to open the gate.

Summer rushed downstairs when the coupe swerved to a halt in a spray of gravel, and the two girls climbed the steps to the front door. ‘Natasha, Maya, I’m so glad you made it.’

They squealed in delight at the sight of her and waved twin jeroboams of Moët. ‘Party time.’

Yep, they were a pair of airheads, no doubt about that.

The first bottle was barely open when the next car arrived. It was a muscle pick-up truck with Australian flags all over it. The sounds of a Muse guitar riff preceded the two men inside. Summer rushed out to welcome them,
followed by Airhead One and Two. ‘Mike, Gavin, I’m so glad you made it.’

Mike, the big blond, lifted her off the ground and spun her around, kissing her loudly and enthusiastically. ‘My gorgeous girl, you’re looking better than ever.’ He gave her another loud kiss before he put her down. Flynn decided he didn’t like this guy at all.

The second man, equally big but with shaggy dark hair and a tan so dark his white shirt looked electric, gave Summer a quick hug and she pulled his head down to kiss his cheek. ‘Gavin, when did you get to be such a stranger?’ She dragged both men into the drawing room without making any effort to include Flynn in the group.

He took a quick look around the pick-up truck, checking it over, before he followed them inside.

Summer was busy getting everyone drinks, directing one of the staff to carry bags upstairs, and making introductions. She was a practised hostess with a knack for putting people at ease. Except him.

The gate alarm alerted him to more visitors. He checked the camera and saw a green Jaguar outside. ‘Who is it?’ he asked.

‘Robert Fielding and Molly Ainsworth,’ said a female voice. ‘Summer is expecting us.’

‘Wait there.’ He’d had no warning about this. Summer had questions to answer.

‘Oh yes, didn’t I mention them?’ Summer said innocently, but the quiver in her voice gave her away. This was why she had been on edge all day. ‘They’re old friends.’

With Summer vouching for them, Flynn let them in, but he was going to check them out later.

These visitors were a surprise. Molly Ainsworth was a petite sprite, with a pixie crop and pointed chin. She bubbled with nervous energy and hugged Summer enthusiastically. ‘I can’t believe we are finally here. The traffic was terrible.’ Her smile lit her face, revealing dimples in her cheeks.

Robert Fielding was tall, at least six foot two, with wide shoulders and a swimmer’s body. He was poised and confident, with an aura of power and old money. He even dressed like old money, in a navy blazer which set off his fair hair and blue eyes.

He shook Summer’s hand formally. ‘Miss O’Sullivan, it’s a pleasure to meet you.’

‘You mean, meet me again, don’t you?’ Summer said. ‘You can’t have forgotten about Hickstead?’

He gave her a half bow. ‘Of course.’

Summer led them into the drawing room with Flynn bringing up the rear. ‘Come on, everyone; let’s have some drinks before dinner.’

Summer was relieved that Flynn stayed out of her way as she checked the kitchen and put the final touches to dinner. Although she had been her father’s hostess for years, she had never been so nervous. It was vital that she impress Robert Fielding. Molly said that he loved good food so she had agonized over the menu. But by the time she had quaffed her second glass of champagne she was no longer worried.