Along for the Ride

The driver turned the key in the ignition. “Where to now, boss?” he asked, somewhat nervously.

Gregory frowned. He stared ahead, unseeing. A moment later he gestured at the road ahead.

“Edinburgh, as planned. That’s it. We don’t wait any longer.”

“Don’t you need him for --”

“I don’t need him for anything,” Gregory interrupted the voice that had piped up from the back seat. “He might have said he doesn’t know where the photos are, but I don’t believe him for a minute. I reckon he’s on the road himself ... I bet he’s planning to publish them and collect!”

His fist clenched as he felt the money and the accompanying prestige slipping away from him. “We just have to make sure we get there first.” He glanced at the driver. “Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Put your foot on it.”

The driver signaled and quickly pulled out into the traffic.

“If that little bastard sells those pictures before I get my hands on him, his life won’t be worth living,” Gregory muttered.

He was furious at this latest turn of events, and he had to remind himself that he had back-up plans, plenty of them. He was determined the trip to Edinburgh would result in something to make this damn thing worthwhile. Joel Elliot had been on his back, chasing him for the promised results. He’d also heard on the grapevine that Elliot was taking action himself. He was up to his neck in it, and he wasn’t the sort of guy who backed down, ever. His outside plan was to visit Zoë, tell her he had the material, and blackmail her with the threat of publication. Even if Jason got there first, he would get some hard cash for his efforts, and Jason would take the rap for the exposé. That would serve the little bastard right. The thought eased his rage, and he smiled smugly. Oh, yes, he had all eventualities well and truly covered.

Chapter Nine

A timid woman with blue-tinged gray hair peered down the narrow aisle in the shop. She had a miniature Yorkshire terrier tucked under her arm and facing front, as if it were a powerful weapon that was loaded and ready for use. The dog blinked nervously. Jason lifted the shopping basket over the woman’s head to enable her to get past. That action gained him the cautious respect of the village shopkeeper, who stood by the till with his arms folded, observing them warily as they made their selections.

They had slept late, and when they awoke, Cal went down to the kitchens for coffee before leaving to draw out in the fields. Jason had wandered down after him and found Felice sitting at the round oak kitchen table writing a shopping list. He’d been quite happy to help her when she had asked.

They’d been in the village greengrocers for nearly a half-hour, but Jason hadn’t noticed the time passing. He was too busy observing Felice. She had a way of touching everything that made his balls ache. Right at that moment she was testing an avocado for ripeness. It was having a devastating effect on him, and he wasn’t quite sure why. He was, however, content to carry her shopping basket for her and observe her interactions with the lucky objects she chose to examine.

“Good morning, Mrs. Fawcett.” Felice nodded over as the old lady and her terrier crept behind her, as if trying not to be noticed by the tall, elegant woman who more than filled the shop with her presence. Mrs. Fawcett blurted a hurried response and shot past. Felice was clearly an enigma who kept the locals gossiping about their parliamentary celebrity and his unusual housekeeper. Jason smiled to himself, his imagination running riot on what the villagers might make of the goings-on up at the big house. Felice was just the type of hot topic that kept the tongues wagging, that much had been apparent at the pub the night before. Today she looked smart but incongruous in close-fitting jodhpurs, riding boots, and a crisp white blouse. Whether she intended to ride at all was not an issue; this was clearly her about-town look, and it showed her immaculate figure off to perfection. Jason watched as she leaned over the salad stall and the blouse rode up, revealing the smooth, warm skin of her waistline. The curve of her rear was perfectly outlined in the jodhpurs.

“Mmmm, delicious.” She placed a clutch of bright green fennel into the basket he was holding.

“What will you be cooking?” Jason queried, in order to focus on something other than her magnificent bottom and her fingers rifling through the fruits and vegetables.

“For starters, oysters -- fruits of the sea and the food of love.” She smiled suggestively. “To follow, baked salmon with almonds, served on a bed of linguini dressed with garlic and fennel, and the freshest vegetables from the countryside. Afterwards, perhaps a tiramisu, just because it feels and tastes like heaven in your mouth.” She pursed her lips into a smoochy kiss, her expression filled with proposition.

Oh, great, Jason thought to himself. She’s going to feed us a meal full of aphrodisiacs. As if he needed that after having just seen her shopping. That was an erotic experience in itself. The way she drew her fingernails over the skin of a lemon and scented its zest had sent a dart of longing up his spine and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand upright. A sensitive spot at the base of his lumbar region had tingled for a solid five minutes afterwards.

He was practically gasping for air by the time they finally left the greengrocers, laden with purchases. Thankfully, the day was much fresher. A breeze had swept in from the west, lifting some of the humidity.

“Mmm.” Felice stroked his upper arm while he loaded the boot of her Mercedes convertible, squeezing the bicep muscle as if she were testing it for ripeness, too. “Do you work out?”

“A bit of gym work; it’s mostly kickboxing that I get off on.” His body responded as if, by virtue of testing his bicep, she had checked out his whole physique with her hands. He was taut as a bow with the feeling of stimulation her action aroused. She had her hand under the cropped sleeve of his T-shirt and was holding his upper arm in a surprisingly firm clasp. He stood with his hands on the edge of the boot, waiting to see what she did next.

She glanced at the dressing on his forearm but made no comment, then smiled and slid her hand free. “Come, we better hurry; I must start cooking.” She indicated he could shut the boot and stalked round to the side of

the car, glancing back at him as she went.

“Already?” He looked at his watch as the boot slammed shut. It was early afternoon.

“Good things are meant to be properly prepared and ... savored.” Her gaze lingered on his body before she climbed into the driver’s seat. Jason paused with his hand on the passenger door handle, then took a deep breath before he got in beside her.

* * * * *

Georgie had slept late, and by the time she got downstairs to the kitchen, Maddie was the only one around. A note on the message board read “gone sketching,” beneath which was scrawled “gone shopping.” Next to his message Cal had drawn a caricature of himself holding a sketchpad. Jason had drawn a stick man with a big grin and what might be a carrier bag in one hand. She smiled and made herself some brunch, then decided to take the dogs for a walk down to the river.

The lane passed the house and joined the river a quarter of a mile away, where it rambled alongside the riverbank for nearly two miles before the river bent away and went eastwards. It had been one of her favorite walks, and as she traced the familiar route, she realized how much her life had changed since she had last been there.

The design course had more than lived up to her expectations. She was modeling her own designs already, and to good feedback. Her sex life had taken a dramatic step up. She had never been in such a decadent relationship before, but then, she’d never met a man like Cal before.

He was in her mind all the time. With Jason it was sex, fun, and camaraderie. With Cal it was something else. She couldn’t deny it. She should have been getting Justine’s advice about not falling for guys, and instead she was letting him reach inside her by spending more time alone with him.