My Forbidden Mentor (7 page)

“I won’t deny wanting her, but it’s out of the question. I just have to come to terms with it.” A vision of Mr. Howard flashed before him. The awkward request he had of John flooded his mind but John didn’t feel anything had changed outside of wanting to bed his daughter because he found her attractive. Certainly his personal feelings toward Melissa hadn’t changed, just the physical part, and the physical part he could control.

“Well you need to find some kind of release, old chap. It’s not like you to bite everyone’s head off.”

“Yes, I know, I’m working on it. She caught me off guard, that’s all.” John seemed satisfied that he had solved his dilemma.

While John took another swig of his drink, Robert leaned forward as if to emphasize his next point. “Who are you fooling, John? That young lady’s got a noose around your neck and it’s getting tighter every day. I’d like to meet this little tamer.”

John about choked on his drink and replied with an arch in his brow above widened eyes. “Noose? Tamer? Robert, I think you’ve gone mad. Like I said, we get along except for the issue of sex, so if that issue is out of the question there shouldn’t be any problems, right?” Robert was right, John realized, he was fooling himself.

Robert reclined in his chair. “Well, my best friend, it looks like you’ve got everything under control. There’s just one more thing?”

“What’s that?” John asked, getting frustrated again.

“What about Vanessa? She’s not going to be easy to turn away.”

“True enough. I’ll deal with her when the time comes. She has other suitors to keep her busy,” he concluded.

“Not for long. You’re her favorite, remember?”

Emptying the remainder of brandy in his mouth, he repeated to Robert, “Like I said, I’ll deal with her when the time comes.”

“I hear you, but you need to make a decision about this lass you’re obsessing over. I don’t want to lose my best friend to insanity.”

“I know.” he said, smiling at his good friend.

“Well, I have a late engagement,” he said as he lifted from the chair.

“Rose?”

“Yes, lovely Rose. Until tomorrow then?”

“It will have to be tomorrow evening, I’ll be training Miss Howard tomorrow most of the day,” John informed him.

“Miss Howard? You’re behaving more professional by the moment,” Robert said as he strode toward the door chuckling. “Tomorrow night, then.”

“Ha, ha,” John replied to Robert’s bantering. He reached for the almost empty bottle of brandy and poured the remainder into his glass, determined to finish every last drop, and then he ordered another bottle.

John kept wondering why on earth he drank himself into oblivion, and on a weeknight when he knew what his schedule entailed. With one hand on the reins, the other rubbing his face, he tried erasing the stagnant fog that swam around in his head. Topping it off were the daggers piercing his eyes. His hand lifted to his forehead to shield against the bright morning sky. Cursing every movement that made his head pound at what seemed like the bumpiest ride he’d ever had on Clara, he groaned at the invisible hammer hitting his head and began cursing at Clara when she stepped into a pothole. Without delay he apologized to his mare. It wasn’t her fault that he’d let himself be an empty well for alcohol last night. His squinted focus spotted a figure standing in the near distance, a golden- haired figure, and the answer became clear, the only thing clear at the moment. She was the culprit. This was her fault.

But when he arrived by her side, still sitting atop Clara, he looked down into her faultless hazel eyes and realized this hangover was his own fault. Being careful not to snap at her he returned her cheerful smile, as best he could, envious of her happy mood.

“Good morning. Isn’t it a glorious morning, Lord Blackburn?” she said, eager to get started with her next lesson.

“Glorious? I don’t know,” he started to say, leaving his sentence unfinished due to the stabbing pain in his head from moving to get off his horse.

He caught sight of Melissa launching toward him. He rested against his mare for support, feeling her warm hand on his arm. His clouded gaze went to her hand and he heard her say, “Are you all right? What’s wrong with you?”

He swallowed, mustering up enough control to appear normal. Standing straight, her hand fell away, and for that he was grateful. The warmth from her hand seemed too inviting. He gave her another smile. “I’m fine. I just moved too fast and everything got hazy for a moment,” he explained and took out his timepiece from the saddle, taking hold of it in one hand while his other hand came up as a shield once again. “I’m quite fine. Are you ready, then?” he asked, feeling honored that she would worry so much about him.

She studied him some more and without a doubt was not convinced. “Yes, I’m ready, but I don’t believe you’re all right.”

Was he that obvious? “Why not?” he said with a razor edge to his voice, desiring only to be in his cozy bed at the moment and not being asked twenty questions. He’d much rather be sleeping off this horrendous hangover than discussing his pain with her.

“There’s no need to get short with me, my lord. I can’t help it if you look as bad as you feel.”

“Thank you for that,” he told her with sarcasm, leading Clara to the corral.

Melissa followed him to the gate. “I didn’t mean that literally. All I meant was, well, your eyes for example.” With hands on hips, she regarded his movements as he strode past her in slow motion.

He grabbed the reins on her gelding and began leading him out to the fields. “What’s wrong with my eyes, Melissa?”

He heard nothing until she fell in step with him on the opposite side of her gelding. “It’s apparent you’re having trouble seeing this morning. You’ve been squinting ever since you arrived. What happened to you?”

That was a good question, he thought. The answer always seemed to stem from a particular young lady. “I can see fine, it just hurts to do so this morning. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

“Do you have some kind of eye illness?” she asked, unaware of how minor his sickness really was.

“No.”

A breath of frustration burst out at his short and direct reply. “Why is it always so hard to get a detailed answer from you?” she asked with a rise in her voice.

“Good lord, please keep your voice down,” he lashed out, letting the reins drop and stopping to put his fingertips on his temples to apply pressure.

She came around to face him, filled with frantic concern. “John, you’re scaring me.”

“Well, you remembered my name,” he said, a light chuckle escaping his lips, and even that hurt. Both hands came up to shield his eyes that found hers. “Melissa, I have a hangover,” he confessed, expecting her to rage at him when all she showed was more concern.

“Hangover? How much did you drink?”

“Enough to regret getting out of bed this morning,” he responded in a low pitch.

“Perhaps you should have rested, John. I would have understood.”

Her attitude surprised him. Something had put her in a good mood and he wondered what? Here he was blaming her for his rough behavior and she treated him like she cared. Boy, his professionalism was starting off top notch. Wouldn’t Robert laugh in his face right about now? He needed to face his demons and make it through the day. “Melissa, I did this to myself. I shall suffer the consequences. Now, did you examine Thunder like I did on Monday?”

Melissa strolled back around the opposite side of Thunder, biding her time in answering him.

His head bent forward, looking around Thunder so he could see her face. “Did you?”

“You said in time I would have to, so no, I have not,” she told him.

John straightened. “Come here,” he requested while he motioned with the crook of a finger.

They proceeded to go step by step together through the process, and afterward Melissa was glad she had because she learned a lot. There were many details John had pointed out that she wouldn’t have thought to look for. His astute knowledge regarding horses clarified that she could learn a lot from him, and because of that, he’d become a very important person in her life.

The progress of their sessions claimed to be as successful as the previous. Melissa proved to be the most impassioned student John had ever taught, never failing to amaze him with the speed with which she learned. Beyond question she listened, concentrated, and then carried out the task he’d given her. She’d practice and practice until mastering his instructions. Even the weather cooperated. The skies of passing days were clear and blue, presenting few white puffs of clouds and allowing volumes of sunrays to warm the earth beneath their feet.

The work was strenuous for both though, and the repetition it took to reach perfection was never-ending, still John was right by her side, correcting every mistake along the way as Melissa repeated routines over and over until John was satisfied for the day.

“Tilt your head forward. Tuck your body tighter,” John shouted.

She adjusted her weight, tucking her body as he instructed, and it seemed to improve her time. Now it was a matter of concentrating on everything at once.

“Get your behind higher and get your weight in the air. You should know that,” he told her, getting used to the snide looks she gave him from time to time.

They ran through the routine once more before Melissa rode in, panting almost as much as her gelding.

“Tired?” John asked, knowing full well she was. She had worked extra hard today and it had been an unusually warm day.

She responded with an exhausted, “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” he asked, teasing her while she followed him with haggard steps toward the barn.

“I don’t suppose you would have let me rest?” she responded, walking along side him now, giving him a look that said she knew better.

“You’re right. You know the routine much too well. I’ll have to change it around so I can catch you off guard,” he said smiling.

“You would,” she said, returning his smile as she opened the barn doors so he could lead her gelding inside.

After brushing Thunder down John suggested they go for a short ride to break from routine. Melissa chuckled at his implication and then agreed. They saddled Clara and Laurel and were off into the fields again.

They always found something to talk about. The majority of the time it was horses but today it was plants and flowers. Melissa stopped when spotting wild berries in the near distance. She jumped off her mare and strolled over to them in delight. Handing the first bunch to John, she picked another for herself. They headed back toward her home eating the sweet berries while continuing their previous conversation.

At a break in their exchange, Melissa noticed John’s darkened lips and began giggling. She stuck her tongue out at him to show off the darkened tongue she knew she had. He copied her action. It turned into a game of tease and tag as Melissa reined her mare closer to John and his mare. Reaching over with one hand she jabbed at his arm, her mouth curving into a wide smile of joy. She tried to pull away but John was quick. His hand grabbed her arm to stop her, pulling her close to him again. Her smile waned when she realized he planned an attack of tickling as, unfortunately, she was very ticklish. His hand kept its grip and at the same time his fingers touched the sides of her waist enough to make her squirm and jolt. Her blast of laughter caused him to laugh as well.

“Stop it, John,” she said in the middle of a hearty roar.

Of course he didn’t. He was having a good time, her protests didn’t sound very serious and besides, she had started it. “Why should I stop when it’s obvious you’re enjoying yourself?”

She jerked back and forth, trying to get away, but she was no match for his strength. “It’s not funny anymore,” she claimed in a belt of laughter.

“Are you sure? You’re still laughing,” he said, easing off. His eyes casually drifted down from her face, catching the luscious sway of her bosom, and he realized that if he didn’t stop their child’s play it would turn into lascivious play for him.

There lay a hint of guilt in his glance toward her eyes, which smiled at him, a charming gaze that gave him a very distinctive look of approval. She was making it extremely difficult to remain professional. Whether her innocence made her unaware or not, her signals were clear: she was thinking about him as much as he was thinking about her.

Why couldn’t they have met under different circumstances? Even though he wouldn’t change her personality one bit, he would like to change the fact that he was her mentor. His position stood in the way of all they could offer each other personally, intimately. He groaned in silent misery. Tonight he would have those delicious dreams of her again. Only dreams.

“I’m laughing because it can’t be helped,” she said and paused, because all of a sudden his actions ceased. His hand left her side and she noticed his demeanor had changed in an instant. “Thank you,” she told him and a wide grin appeared on her face. “Now it’s your turn. Are you ticklish?” she inquired.

He would have loved to continue their child’s play but it couldn’t go on. If she touched him at all right now he would explode. It was bad enough that her body beckoned him. He swallowed another inward groan and tried to concentrate on anything but becoming solid in the crotch of his trousers, which became exceedingly difficult when she reached over to touch the sides of his ribs. In a gentle motion he grabbed her by the wrist, stopping her. “It won’t affect me, so don’t even try,” he informed her, giving a slight smile.

She couldn’t understand his attitude change. One minute they laughed like children, the next he got serious. It seemed all right for him to have fun but not her. “You’re not playing fair, John. I almost fell off my horse with laughter and I can’t even try to get the same result with you?”

He let go of her wrist. Good lord, she had no clue of the result she already produced in him, but he needed to give her the benefit of the doubt. “I don’t tickle easily like you Melissa. You would get frustrated in your attempts.”

“Just let me try? Perhaps no one has found that special place yet,” she said with honest intentions.

He agreed that her touches would be different, but it wouldn’t tickle, it would feel good, too good to have her fingers on his body. “Melissa, no. It’s not a good idea,” he said.

Bafflement appeared on her face. “Why are you so serious all of a sudden?” she asked.

He reined away, unable to face her inquisitions. He did not answer right away as he wasn’t quite sure what to say and so they proceeded to the barn.

She studied his profile, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. “John, what did I do to upset you?”

He looked over at her, purple lips and all. “You didn’t do anything, Melissa.” He looked away, his teeth grinding together. He should tell her something. On an expelled breath, his focus shifted back to her and he confessed, “It’s my own fault for having thoughts I shouldn’t.”

Her face held an expression of further confusion. “I don’t understand.”

He gave her a tender grin. “It’s not important. I’ll race you the rest of the way.”

She smiled back and replied with, “You’re on.”

They hadn’t had far to go, but John let her win anyway. Although she kept up, he would have beaten her. He pretended everything was fine again, when deep inside a storm of hellish proportions circulated within him. What the hell was he going to do about Melissa?

The two-day break between their sessions helped his sanity but the tension escalated once more when Monday morning arrived. At least training had gone well as they had both concentrated on getting record speeds. John encouraged and pushed, Melissa accomplished and surpassed.

At the end of the day John and Melissa were in the barn brushing down their horses. As they finished, Melissa asked John about the plans he had for purchasing future thoroughbreds. Melissa listened with intense concentration while leaning against a bale of stacked hay, her fingers holding a single piece of hay between her lips. John continued to talk as he stood across from her, taking off his shirt. Sweat had beaded upon his chest, making his skin glisten. He tossed the shirt on a nearby bale of hay, removing next the leather tie holding his hair together. Bending over at the waist, his hands rested on his strong thighs as he shook debris loose from his long black hair.

Melissa suppressed a groan as she watched his fluid movements. Whipping his hair back his eyes met hers, shimmering gray piercing through her. She couldn’t help but stare in unconcealed fascination. “I’ve never seen you with your hair unbound. You look quite different,” she told him, placing the single piece of hay back into her mouth.

“How so?” he asked as he was striding over to her with purpose.

“It’s very reckless looking,” she purred. Seduction sprang in her eyes while being hypnotized by this tall and dark man stepping toward her. Her words were out before she could retract them. His actions told her he hadn’t mistaken her meaning.

“Is that so? Should I act the part?” he asked, positioning his arms around her as his knees were bending in order to lift her. Carrying her up the ladder to the hayloft, her protest didn’t put a dent in his progress.

“John, what are you doing? Put me down,” she exclaimed, snapping back to reality, unaware of her arms wrapping around his neck for balance.

“I want to show you the view from up here,” he said, revealing a devilish grin.

When they reached the top of the loft he set her on her feet, then plopped himself on the dusty wooden floor, leaning his back against a bale of hay. His long legs stretched out wide so she could sit between them. His hand touched the floor, motioning her over. “Come here and sit with me,” he said.

Reluctantly she sat between his buckskin thighs with her back facing him.

Leaning forward his mouth whispered in her ear, “You’ve lost your piece of hay.”

Her fingers went to her mouth, realizing how observant he was when she hadn’t noticed. She wanted to turn and look at him but the heat from their closeness stalled her actions. As it was the close proximity of how they were sitting seemed a little too comfortable and much too dangerous.

“Now isn’t that a spectacular view?” she heard him say, jarring her attention. A long finger pointed toward the window view of lush green rolling hills and flourishing oak and mulberry trees as far as the eye could see.

“Yes it is,” she replied as they both stared into the never-ending landscape. Both remained immersed in their own peaceful thoughts until Melissa mentioned her mother. “I often come up here to think. Sometimes when I miss my mother it helps bring back the happy memories. She used to ride all over those hills,” she said, her fingers gesturing in the direction she spoke.

“How long has it been since she passed away?” John asked.

There was a moment of hesitation before Melissa responded, as if a few joyous memories had relived themselves in her mind, producing a smile on her lips as a result. “Approximately three years ago,” she told him.

“You miss her a great deal, I can tell,” John responded and spoke with complete understanding.

His tenderness made her aware of his nearness again. She could feel his warm breath teasing her cheek. “Yes, I do. There’s so much more I wanted to tell her and talk to her about,” she shared. If her mother were alive she could talk to her about anything, including her handsome mentor, but instead she had to go on instinct. Her mind was telling her it was wrong to be this close to him, but her heart was telling her to open up and take him in, body and soul. Her mind was winning because she knew nothing of his feelings for her.

“I know what you mean,” John said as they both kept their watchful gazes toward the wide-open view. “My mother’s been gone eighteen years and it still saddens me to think about her not being here any longer.”

“What about your father? It must be hard on him as well?” Melissa inquired.

“I suppose,” he agreed and then reevaluated his answer. “To be honest, I wouldn’t know. I’m not very close to my father,” he concluded and his roughened tone didn’t go unnoticed.

“Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“No. Do you?” he responded.

“No,” she answered. “It seems we have a lot more in common than horses. We both have lost our mothers and we both are only children, although I wouldn’t have been an only child if my brother had lived, but because he died at birth I consider myself one,” she told him as her fingers tangled within each other.

“Your parents didn’t try for more children?” John asked.

“No. I think the death of my brother was too much to bear. After that my mother got involved in women’s rights. It took over her life,” she told him as a bit of disheartenment sounded in her voice. “She even had meetings at our house. A great number of women would show up and, believe it or not, a few men, mainly husbands that supported their wives, including my father,” she explained while her eyes took in the wildflowers dancing in the distance.

“And you were allowed to attend these meetings?” he questioned.

Melissa chuckled softly, “Of course. I am a woman after all,” she teased.

His voice turned deep and husky. “Yes, but at the time you would have been a girl,” he harassed, taking a strand of her hair and twirling it in gentle motions. “Could you interpret the full meaning behind the proposed actions?” he asked.