The Virgin's Seduction. Anne Mather

bring a smile to those full, sultry lips, to feel her warmth enveloping him instead of that argumentative old woman she worked for.

      He hadn’t succeeded. Not yet, at least. For some reason she’d taken an instant dislike to him, and try as he might he couldn’t get her to relax. She’d been forced to be polite to him during the rather tense supper Cassandra and her mother had created, but he’d been conscious of her disapproval all through the meal.

      He pulled a wry face. He would have to do better, he thought, without really understanding why he should want to. Nevertheless, he turned swiftly from the window and went into the adjoining bathroom. Leaving his shower until later, he had a quick wash, cleaned his teeth, and ran his damp hands over his hair. That would have to do for now, he decided, and with a grimace at his reflection he returned to the bedroom.

      Pulling on his oldest pair of jeans, he shivered a little as the cold fabric encased his warm skin. Then, grabbing the cashmere sweater he’d worn the night before, he thrust his arms into the sleeves and jerked it over his head.

      He left his room a couple of minutes later. He’d hooked his leather jacket over one shoulder, and his trainers made little sound as he strode along the upper landing. Downstairs, he hesitated in the chilly hallway, not absolutely sure which way to go. But then he remembered the direction Eve had been coming from the night before and, taking a chance, he headed along the corridor that he hoped might lead to the back of the house.

      He was right. Or at least partly so. When he opened the door at the end of the corridor, he found himself in the kitchen. The housekeeper, who had just been about to take a tray of freshly baked rolls from the oven, looked round in surprise, and Jake guessed he was the last person she’d expected to see.

      ‘Mr Romero!’ she exclaimed, pausing uncertainly. But then, realising she had to complete her task, she hurriedly set the tray of rolls on the scrubbed pine table and closed the oven door. ‘Can I help you?’

      Jake gave her a rueful grin. He hadn’t expected to encounter anyone else either. ‘I—er—I was going to take a walk,’ he said a little lamely. ‘I wanted to get out back of the house.’

      ‘Ah.’ Mrs Blackwood pushed the rolls a little further onto the table. ‘Well, you can come through here, Mr Romero.’ She gestured towards another door. ‘That leads to the bootroom. You’ll see another door through there that leads outside.’ She paused. ‘But are you sure you want to go out so early? It’s very cold.’

      Jake could believe it. He was glad he’d brought his jacket with him. ‘I’ll be okay,’ he assured her. He nodded at the rolls. ‘New bread! I can’t wait for breakfast.’

      ‘You can take one with you, if you like,’ offered Mrs Blackwood shyly, and, although Jake was impatient to get going, he couldn’t refuse her.

      ‘Great,’ he said, selecting one with a golden crust. Then, after taking a bite, almost burning his mouth in the process, he grinned again and made for the door.

      Outside, he discovered that she hadn’t been joking. It wasn’t just cold, it was freezing, and ramming the rapidly cooling roll between his teeth, he swiftly shouldered into his jacket. Then, after fastening the buttons, he removed the roll again and set off in the direction he’d seen Eve heading.

      It didn’t take long to reach the stable yard. Low buildings occupied two sides of a cobbled courtyard, with the black bulk of a barn dominating the other. And it was from the barn that he could see light emanating. It filtered out, a golden finger penetrating the half open door. If he’d been further way he wouldn’t have seen it, the light swiftly swallowed by the lowering shadows.

      He doubted she’d be pleased to see him, but he crossed the yard anyway, still munching on the crusty roll as he rounded the door.

      Eve was in the process of forking clean straw onto a handcart. She’d pushed the sleeves of her chunky sweater up to her elbows, and as she bent towards the bales stored against the wall of the barn the back of her jeans exposed a delectable wedge of skin at her waist. But she didn’t seem to feel the cold. Obviously what she was doing was keeping her warm, but he couldn’t help wincing when she jabbed the fork particularly viciously into the stack.

      ‘Ouch,’ he said softly, and had the doubtful satisfaction of seeing her reaction. He’d startled her, there was no doubt about that, and a becoming wave of colour invaded her pale cheeks.

      She straightened automatically. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded, and once again he could hear the barely suppressed impatience in her voice.

      ‘I thought I’d take a look around,’ he replied easily, finishing the roll and dusting the crumbs from his hands. ‘What are you doing? I thought Cassandra said her mother had sold all the horses.’

      ‘All but one,’ said Eve shortly. And then, because she resented his impression that he could ask her anything he liked and she’d meekly answer him, she countered, ‘Where’s Cassie?’

      Jake shrugged, propping his shoulder against the wall of the barn and putting most of his weight on one leg. ‘In bed, I guess,’ he responded, unbuttoning his jacket and warming his fingertips beneath his arms.

      Eve’s fingers tightened round the shaft of the fork. She couldn’t help noticing that by opening his jacket he’d exposed the fact that his tight-fitting jeans were worn in all the most intimate places. The fabric clung lovingly to his shape, soft and textured, and she wondered why a man who apparently had an unlimited income would want to wear something so old.

      She’d hardly been aware of how she was appraising him until her eyes returned to his face and encountered his. He’d been watching her, and in an effort to show that he hadn’t fazed her she muttered, ‘Don’t you know?’

      Jake’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t I know what?’ he queried innocently, and her momentary spurt of defiance faltered.

      ‘Don’t you know where—where Cassie is?’ she said, lifting her shoulders in a dismissive gesture. ‘I’d have thought you would.’

      ‘What you mean is, you thought we’d be sleeping together, right?’ he suggested mildly, evidently enjoying her confusion. ‘Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I slept alone.’ His eyes darkened. ‘Very well, as it happens.’ Which wasn’t entirely true.

      ‘Oh.’ Eve swallowed. ‘Well—good.’ She turned back to her task and attacked the straw with renewed vigour. ‘I have to get on.’

      He straightened. ‘Let me help you.’

      Eve’s lips parted and she stared at him with disbelieving eyes. ‘I—don’t think so.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘Because you—’ She moistened her lips before continuing awkwardly, ‘This is a dirty job.’

      ‘So?’

      ‘So—I’m sure you don’t want to get all hot and sweaty.’

      ‘I get hot and sweaty all the time,’ he told her drily. And then, because he could see what she was thinking, he added, ‘I meant working on boats, of course.’

      ‘I know that.’ Eve’s face felt as if it would never be cool again.

      ‘Okay.’ His grin said he didn’t believe her. ‘I just didn’t want you to get the wrong impression.’

      Eve pursed her lips. ‘I think that’s exactly what you did want me to do,’ she muttered, barely audibly. She sighed. ‘Look, why don’t you go for a walk and let me finish this?’

      ‘Because I want to see this horse you’re doing all this work for,’ replied Jake, taking off his jacket and flinging it over a rusting oil drum. He came towards her and took the fork from her unresisting fingers. ‘See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?’

      Eve took a deep breath and stepped somewhat reluctantly aside. ‘Cassie’s not going to like it,’ she warned, and Jake turned to give her a knowing look.

      ‘Do