Emerald Mistress (21 page)

Harriet would not have been surprised if that announcement had made her eyes shoot out on actual stalks of horror. ‘No way, Boyce. Eva will never forgive me if you tackle her. She’ll assume that I put pressure on you and—’

‘I won’t let Mum make that mistake. Maybe she’s afraid of what Alice and I might think. I want her to understand that that certainly isn’t an issue for me. She needs encouragement and support to speak up after all these years, but you don’t need to apologise for wanting the information. It’s your right, and when she realises that you have back-up it should help.’

Harriet worried at her lower lip with her teeth, her eyes troubled. Boyce was the apple of his mother’s eye, and the older woman was a different person with him. How could he understand that she was afraid of damaging her relationship with Eva beyond repair?

Boyce patted her hand. ‘Trust me,’ he urged with confidence. ‘I know Mum
—and
I know what I’m talking about.’

That evening, Harriet worked late at the yard. It was one of the groom’s days off and there was a lot for her to do. Boyce had offered to help but she had turned him down, for he had never been keen on manual labour. When she had finished feeding the horses she went into the office to make a start on the monthly bills. Peanut was unusually restive, snuffling at the door and scratching at the stone floor. Samson barked a couple of times and trotted about. Had she not been so busy their fussing would have
driven her mad. It was only when she heard a door slam in the yard that she went out to investigate.

She was surprised to see Rafael, striding into the feed store on the other side of the cobbled yard, in apparent search of her. ‘Rafael?’ she called.

Tall and commanding, he swung round in a fluid athletic arc, his lean, bronzed face grim, brilliant golden eyes zeroing in on her. ‘The gate on the lower field was left open. Your horses are out!’

Harriet lost colour, but sprang straight into action. ‘I’ll call Fergal…we’ll need his help!’

‘Ask him to check the road first. I’ll rouse Davis if he’s at home.’

She raised Fergal on his mobile phone. He swore he’d be over in five minutes flat.

‘I don’t understand how this could have happened!’ she gasped.

‘Carelessness,’ Rafael spelt out with ringing derision.

‘Not mine. I check the gates every day—’

‘How many horses were down there?’ he incised, as Davis came clattering down the stairs from his apartment.

‘Six…’

‘An old mare is grazing by the gate. I cornered a grey gelding in the orchard and he’s safe. That’s two accounted for. You watch this end of the lane. Davis,
come with me…we’ll drive over the estate and try to locate the rest.’ His dark drawl was cool, clipped and horribly impersonal.

‘I’m not careless,’ Harriet repeated tautly. ‘I swear I checked—’

‘I had to swerve off the lane when the grey ran out in front of the Range Rover. I have very fast reactions. Someone else might have been killed.’

‘I’m sorry…really sorry,’ she muttered wretchedly.

Rafael rested brooding dark-as-midnight eyes on her. In her shabby jodhpurs and sweatshirt, with her copper hair caught up in a schoolgirl’s ponytail and her deep blue eyes shadowed with exhaustion, she scored nil in the grooming and vanity stakes. Yet the natural appeal of her delicate bone structure and fine porcelain skin was only enhanced by that edge of fragility. He did not want to think about which particular activities had deprived her of sleep to that extent. Without another word, he got into the four-wheel-drive.

Harriet used the pick-up as a barrier to block the lane. Six horses on the loose. By any standards that was a disaster. How had the gate come open? Had a rambler been responsible? But walkers were usually careful with livestock and gates, and few would choose to enter a field full of horses. The yard would
be liable if any of the runaways sustained an injury, but accidents did happen and she was fully insured. But what would it do to the business if word of this escapade got out?

Fergal rang to tell her that he and Boyce were bringing two missing ponies up the lane.

‘Thank goodness…I don’t know how this has happened…’

‘It’s freakin’ odd,’ he agreed without hesitation. ‘This pair are so docile they came to find us, so they did. They must have had a fright to run as far as the road.’

She collected the grey from the orchard, and put him and the placid old stager who had grazed the verge throughout all the excitement back in the field. Neither was injured. She could see nothing wrong with the stout bolt on the gate. From now on as an extra precaution she would tie the gate shut as well. Fergal and Boyce arrived, with her half-brother driving the car very slowly and Fergal on foot with the ponies.

‘You look frazzled, sis,’ Boyce remarked. ‘But there’s no harm done.’

‘If we get the last two horses back unhurt, I’ll agree with you,’ Harriet sighed. ‘As it is, Rafael is furious.’

‘The horses must have stampeded down the lane
when they got out.’ Fergal grimaced. ‘I hate breaking bad news. But they’ve cut up the ground round the driveway up to the Court, and the lawns there may be damaged as well.’

Harriet groaned and winced.

‘Who’s Rafael?’ her brother interposed.

Fergal looked at Harriet. Beneath his scrutiny, which told her that Fergal noticed more that went on around him than he ever let on, she went pink. Digging her hands into her pockets, she contrived a non-committal shrug that implied that Rafael was nobody of any interest. ‘Just a neighbour…’

‘Young?’ Boyce prompted.

‘-ish…’ Hooves sounded on the lane. The dulled roar of a powerful car engine made her move forward even before the glow of headlights pierced the soft fading colours of dusk that had enveloped the landscape.

Davis led the last two horses back into the field.

‘Are they all right?’ she asked the groom worriedly.

The driver’s door of the Range Rover opened. Rafael sprang out with the lethal natural grace of a panther. ‘Unhurt, by the devil’s own luck, and you don’t deserve it,’ he told her icily. ‘Those horses have been loose for at least an hour.’

Boyce emerged into view from behind the hedge. Rafael came to a sudden halt, ebony brows pleating.
A full head taller than Boyce, he was as dark and powerful in build as the other man was fair and slight.

‘I don’t think you should speak to Harriet like that,’ Boyce told him stiffly.

‘Honestly, I’m fine. Not one bit bothered. Plain speaking never hurt anyone that I know of.’ Harriet angled an apologetic glance at Boyce and spoke very fast, in an instinctive attempt to prevent Rafael from saying something cutting and hurtful to her half-sibling. ‘I hadn’t got around to mentioning it yet, but Rafael and I are actually partners in the livery yard.’

‘Since when, sis?’ Boyce queried in open astonishment. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why the secrecy?’

‘It didn’t seem important.’ Harriet could not meet Boyce’s scrutiny as she told that little white lie. She had concealed her difficulties because she had known that he would be offended that she had not approached
him
for financial help.

Having dismissed Davis with thanks, Rafael lounged almost indolently back up against the bonnet of the four-wheel-drive, his relaxation complete. He made no attempt whatsoever to join in the conversation. The blond guy staying with Harriet was not her ex, Luke. As soon as he’d seen the younger man he had realised that local gossip had got the facts wrong—for Harriet’s guest bore no resemblance
to the photographs Rafael had seen. In fact it was obvious that her visitor, who shared the same fair skin and fine features, was a relative.

Unexpectedly Fergal came to Harriet’s rescue by reminding Boyce that his new friends would be waiting for him in the back room at Dooleys.

‘Seamus has got hold of a flute for me, and I’m trying a reel or two with the boys tonight,’ her half-brother volunteered. ‘Will you be home in time? I’d like you to come.’

Tense as she was, she was touched by his desire for her to hear him play, and she watched him depart with Fergal.

Crazily conscious of Rafael’s unusually silent presence, Harriet threw up her head, but still contrived to avoid his intent gaze. ‘I’ve got nothing else to say about the gate, I’m afraid,’ she stated, with an air of flat finality. ‘When I saw it last it was firmly closed.’

Rafael strolled fluidly forward, his steps crunching softly on the lush grass of early summer. ‘I don’t give a damn about the gate.’

Harriet was bewildered by that blunt dismissal of the contentious subject. ‘I’m sorry…I don’t understand…’

Rafael reached for her clenched fingers and straightening them engulfed her hands in the sure grip of his own. ‘For the past forty-eight hours I’ve
believed that you were celebrating a cosy reconciliation with your ex at the cottage.’

‘My ex? You mean Luke?’ Harriet was astounded by that statement. ‘My only visitor right now is my brother. Why on earth would you think I had got back together with Luke?’

‘Popular report suggested that your guest was a lover. That I believed the story is really your fault.’ Stunning dark golden eyes liquid with teasing censure, he made that declaration smoother than silk.

It was hard to keep a grip on challenging dialogue with Rafael, Harriet acknowledged inwardly. There he stood, spectacular in terms of sheer dark good looks and raw charisma. He had the advantage of taking her breath away while at the same time saying the most outrageous things.

‘It isn’t
my
fault that you decided to believe some silly rumour about me!’ As the sting of that arrogant assurance sank in, Harriet pulled free of his hold.

His brilliant gaze narrowed with incisive cool. ‘You called me by his name in bed. That’s rather more substantial than a silly rumour. Next I hear you’re wrapping yourself round some blond guy at the airport and he’s moved in with you. You can’t blame me for adding two and two.’

‘I can blame you for a whole host of things!’ Harriet fielded in spirited disagreement. ‘You didn’t
trust me. You made no attempt to check out what you were told. You didn’t even give me a chance to defend myself.’

‘Why are you making such a great big production out of this?’

Believe it or not
, she was tempted to hurl back,
being dumped is really not a fun experience
. His glorious indifference to the reality of the hurt he had inflicted with his rejection infuriated her. Indeed, she was shaken by the tide of rage that had come out of nowhere to fire her up to a pitch her even temperament rarely reached. The detachment of his unemotional calm only inflamed her.

‘It
was
a big production for me. But I suppose I should be grateful that you showed your true nature so quickly.’

An ebony brow elevated. ‘Which means?’

Harriet flung her copper head back, blue eyes defiant. ‘You let me down.’

Rafael was incredulous at that accusation, and suddenly anger broke through his rigid self-discipline. No woman had ever accused him of such base behaviour. Men who let women down were cowardly, weak and untrustworthy, and he was proud of the fact that he was none of those things. ‘Where do you get off, saying that to me?’

‘I think it’s scary that you didn’t even
mention
that you’d heard Luke was with me.’ In spite of her attempt to match his cool, her voice shook slightly with the strength of her emotions.

His strong jawline clenched. ‘It was a misunderstanding.’

‘I’m too ordinary for you. You think fantastic dates, flash gifts and the bedroom stuff is all that matters. And, yes, you’re right—all that
is
terribly exciting. But I would’ve been much more impressed if you had cared enough to ask me who my guest was. That you just ditched me says it all, really. Image was more important. Everything was more important than me or my feelings!’

Rafael gazed steadily back at her, only the raw glitter of his bright eyes telling her that she was not saying anything that he wished to hear. ‘Whatever happened to your desire for a casual fling? That easy come, easy go attitude which you so admired?’

‘You happened…you’ve put me right off flings,’ she admitted with unhesitating honesty.

‘But I don’t do them…and I want you back.’

Her strained eyes veiled. She was shaken, for she had not been prepared for that immediate declaration. Violent confusion and uncertainty seized hold of her. When they had been together she had felt amazingly close to him, and wildly happy, but he had turned into the coldest of strangers, retreating behind
a wall of reserve where he could not be reached. He had hurt her, and she saw that hurt as a warning slap on the wrist for her own foolishness. ‘I’m not a toy you can chuck in the bin and get back out again when you feel like another game!’

His expressive mouth twisted, for that was a rather apt description of the usual dealings he had with women. ‘That’s not how I would treat you.’

‘I’m sorry…it wouldn’t work.’ Harriet rested troubled blue eyes on him. His gorgeous, dark deep-set eyes held her fast. He seemed totally stunned by the idea that she would not fall back into his hands like a ripe plum.

Experiencing a horribly inappropriate desire to wrap her arms round him, Harriet clenched her hands by her sides and studied her booted feet with fixed attention. Where had her anger gone? She didn’t know. He hadn’t even apologised. She wasn’t even sure that he knew
how
to apologise. Perhaps those eager to curry favour with a very rich man had always rescued him from that necessity. Say sorry, she mentally urged him. Say sorry…
Say sorry…

‘There’s something else you should know about me,
a mhilis
.’ Rafael regarded her with the ruthless resolve that was the backbone of his character. ‘I don’t retreat from a challenge.’

‘I have to go…I need to change before I head
down to the pub,’ she mumbled, slowly but surely backing away towards her vehicle.

‘Harriet…’

‘What?’ Scarcely breathing, she hovered, her entire attention welded to him like top quality industrial glue.

‘You’re extraordinary…not ordinary.’

Pleased pink blossomed in her cheeks. She could feel decent resolution and restraint seeping out of her like water swirling round a bucket full of holes. She could feel temptation knocking louder than thunder on her heart. And it spooked her into beating a very fast retreat back to the pick-up. She could still walk away because she had not allowed herself to get attached to him in any way, she reminded herself staunchly. She wasn’t out shopping for a broken heart, or a bored billionaire who would tire of her extraordinary ordinariness long before she tired of him.