Lucy Ellis

Kept At The Argentine's Command


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she’d run out of steam and learned her lesson, he’d think about taking this chemistry between them to its natural conclusion.

      * * *

      Lulu peered out at the passing countryside. According to her map, shouldn’t they be approaching the motorway by now? It was growing dark, and it was raining, and she didn’t have a clue where they were.

      The ribbon of road had grown narrower and it was impossible to read the signs. The headlights on the car lit up only the road ahead, making everything that lay outside it seem menacing and vaguely supernatural.

      Lulu liked the countryside—in the daylight, and from the confines of a car, and preferably not stopping. But she was going to have to pull over. The fuel tank was bobbing close to empty.

      She brought the car to a stop on the shoulder of the road. Then reached over and touched Alejandro’s impressive shoulder.

      He felt warm and reassuringly powerful beneath her hand.

      He didn’t stir.

      She gave him a more definite push. ‘Mr du Crozier.’

      No response.

      ‘Alejandro!’

      Thick sable lashes lifted and his eyes gleamed speculatively over her in the same way the headlights lit up the road ahead. He was looking at her as if she were naked, which was disconcerting enough, and Lulu had a sudden, completely outrageous thought that he hadn’t been sleeping at all.

      ‘We appear to be lost,’ she said unwillingly.

      ‘You don’t say?’

      His voice was husky, but not with sleep. Lulu swallowed.

      There was something very intimate about their proximity, as if the darkness outside and the quiet within had made the space between them somehow more personal.

      Lulu licked her lips. ‘I don’t know where we are.’

      ‘Fortunate, isn’t it,’ he said in that low, taunting voice, ‘that I do?’

      He undid his seatbelt and opened the car door.

      ‘I’m driving,’ he said unnecessarily.

      Lulu released the breath she hadn’t known she was holding and, rather than stepping outside, scrambled nimbly over the gearbox and tucked her skirts around her in the passenger seat.

      Alejandro took the wheel and swung the car back out onto the road.

      ‘How do you know?’ she demanded.

      ‘I saw the last sign. We’re just outside Inverness.’

      Relief swamped her. Then she frowned. ‘But you were asleep.’

      ‘Let’s just say I’m not a heavy sleeper, querida,’ he responded with a glint in his eyes.

      She knew it! Impossible man. But her heart was pounding a little, and she found herself watching him and waiting to see what he’d do next.

      Alejandro had them on the motorway within ten short minutes. Lulu discovered she was feeling a little out of sorts now her adventure was over.

      She tried to envisage the weekend ahead on her own, and it was so depressing that in her head she found herself shaping sentences she didn’t know if she had the guts to go through with, let alone ask.

      I’m on my own this weekend...you’re on your own. I’m maid of honour...you’re best man. Doesn’t it make sense if we pair up? Maybe you could kiss me again?

      And that was when a huge gust of wind buffeted the car and all the available light left in the sky dwindled to nothing and the rain came down.

      Alejandro slowed them to a crawl, along with the two or three other vehicles on the road.

      ‘Kilantree...’ she read from the sign ahead under the spray of their headlights. ‘One mile. Is Kilantree near Dunlosie Castle?’ she asked.

      ‘Not near enough.’

      To her surprise, Alejandro eased the car into the turn-off lane.

      ‘What are you doing?’

      ‘It’s dark, it’s raining, and I don’t know these roads. We won’t make Dunlosie tonight.’

      ‘What does that mean?’

      Although all of a sudden she did know, and for the first time in years having her routine destroyed didn’t bring on feelings of anxiety. Quite the contrary...

      ‘We’re spending the night here.’

       CHAPTER SIX

      THE DIRECTIONS THEY’D received at the pub in Kilantree’s main street took them just out of town and up a long steep drive to Mrs Bailey’s B&B. The place proved to be a fairly substantial cottage. The eponymous Mrs Bailey appeared in dressing gown and slippers.

      ‘Well, now, bring the lassie in—you’ll be blown away out there. How are you, m’dear? You look pale as a ghost! We’ve got one of those, but I’m sure it won’t bother you tonight.’

      ‘Ghost?’

      Lulu’s eyes sought his. She didn’t look amused.

      Alejandro was aware that her small hand had slipped into his.

      ‘It brings the tourists in, no doubt?’ he commented, and Mrs Bailey laughed.

      ‘Aye, it does—but that’s not to say it doesn’t exist. Come up these stairs. You don’t mind carrying your own luggage, do you? My husband is already in bed. He has a four a.m. start with the sheep.’

      Lulu’s expression said, More sheep?

      Alejandro suppressed a smile. He had to duck at the top of the stairs. The ceilings were low and age permeated the very beams of the place.

      The older woman opened a door on a bedroom so snug the double bed itself and a chest of drawers took up most of the room.

      There was an unlit fireplace that their landlady began fussing with.

      ‘We’ll have you warm in no time. I’ll bring ye up some dinner in a half-hour, if that suits. The bathroom is at the end of the hall and there are fresh towels.’

      Lulu’s mouth had fallen open. ‘I am not sharing this room with you,’ she hissed as Mrs Bailey closed the door.

      He was ready for this. ‘It’s fine, querida, I trust you.’

      She rolled her eyes, but he noticed her gaze was expectant. He wasn’t going to be making the first move this time. He needed this to be very clearly her decision.

      ‘You should have explained the situation to her.’

      He folded his arms.

      ‘There’s only one bed!’

      ‘Sí, it looks comfortable.’

      It was her turn to fold her arms.

      ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to sleep on the floor,’ she said.

      They both looked at the stretch of floorboards between them.

      ‘No,’ he said.

      She flushed.

      ‘Maybe you can sleep in the chair,’ she suggested, as if she was being helpful.

      He raised an eyebrow. ‘How about we toss a coin for it?’

      She opened her mouth, and then at the expression on his face shut it.

      He pulled a coin from his back pocket. ‘Heads or tails?’

      ‘Heads.’

      He flipped the coin, slid his hand away. ‘Tails. I’ll give you a blanket.’