Penny Jordan Collection: Just One Night (24 page)

Human beings, as he had made more than plain to Georgia over the last few days, were there to feed him and be protected by him; he had a very male and macho attitude towards
that
part of his canine heritage, as Georgia had noticed on their walks; for whenever a strange man happened to walk past them Ben immediately became very much the protective male dog guarding one of his pack. But it had to be admitted that human beings were not, in Ben’s considered opinion, his superiors in the pack pecking order, an assumption which Georgia had been doing her best to alter skilfully. However, she was becoming increasingly aware that Ben needed rather more than mere training. What Ben actually needed was a visit to a pet psychologist. However, she could well imagine Piers’s reaction were she to put this suggestion to him.

‘I...I don’t think he’s quite ready for that yet,’ she said instead, only to have Piers openly jeer at her as he asked her silkily,

‘What exactly are you trying to say? That I was right all along and that the dog is untrainable?’

‘
No
dog is untrainable,’ Georgia defended swiftly. ‘And Ben is a very intelligent animal.’

‘An intelligent animal who needs a new home,’ Piers agreed.

Fear and anger flashed through Georgia’s eyes.

‘You’re determined to get rid of him, aren’t you? You won’t even give him a fair chance. Have you any idea what it could do to him emotionally to be re-homed? Have you
no
feelings,
no
compassion...
no
perception? Have you no—?’

‘I’ve got a pair of ruined handmade shoes and a list of complaints that—’ Piers began sardonically, but Georgia cut through them all, her protective female urges coming to the fore as she sensed Ben’s growing danger.

‘Is that
all
that matters to you?’ she demanded heatedly. ‘Material possessions, other people’s opinions? Your godmother
loves
Ben; she—’

‘She only took him on because of you,’ Piers interrupted her furiously, ‘so don’t talk to
me
about feelings, because that was a piece of deliberate and cold-blooded manipulation and—’

‘It was no such thing. I had nothing to do with your godmother’s decision to give Ben a home,’ Georgia denied defensively.

‘You mean you aren’t going to admit to having anything to do with it,’ Piers countered coldly, ‘but you
do
have to admit that there is no way that that dog is a suitable pet for my godmother...’

‘You really hate Ben, don’t you?’ Georgia accused him. ‘If you want my opinion, you don’t just not like him, you’re jealous of him as well.’

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Georgia wished passionately that she had not uttered them; but it was too late. Piers was looking at her with an expression that made her quake in her shoes.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Piers told her curtly, getting off his chair and walking determinedly towards Ben whilst Georgia looked on helplessly.

‘I really don’t think this is a good idea,’ she said quickly.

‘Why?’ Piers challenged her. ‘Or do I already know the answer? You’re afraid that I’ll discover that far from improving Ben’s behaviour—’

‘It
is
improving,’ Georgia insisted fiercely. ‘It’s just that my training programme is at a very delicate stage,’ she improvised, ‘and I’m concerned that it will confuse Ben having two different people giving him commands.’

The thin smile Piers gave her warned Georgia how easily he had seen through her desperate subterfuge.

‘Really? Then how on earth is my godmother going to control him if the only person he’s going to respond to is you, and the only commands he’s going to respond to are yours?’

‘I didn’t say that,’ Georgia protested. ‘It’s just that, right now...’

‘Why not let me be my own judge of just how much progress he’s making?’ Piers challenged her softly, then snapped his fingers and said firmly, ‘Ben, here...’

To Georgia’s relief Ben immediately got up and trotted over to Piers’s side.

Perhaps she was worrying too much, she tried to comfort herself five minutes later as Piers and Ben left the house, Ben walking perfectly to heel on his lead. Perhaps Ben might, with some canine perception, sense that he was being judged, and why, and might behave as she had been training him to do. Crossing her fingers, Georgia prayed inwardly that he would.

Thank goodness she had been sensible enough to realise in time just what a fatal mistake it would be for her to allow herself to fall in love with Piers. Just imagine the heartache she would have to suffer if she did so. It was obvious what a low opinion he had of her, even if physically he had...

But no, she wasn’t going to allow herself to think about that, she told herself firmly. No, not for one minute...one
second
... Just because when Piers had touched her, when he’d kissed her, she had felt...wanted...had dreamed...

* * *

Two miles down the river footpath Piers had to concede that Ben was behaving with perfect canine manners, not pulling on his lead, walking quietly to heel, sitting on command and even sharing a disapproving look with Piers when another less well behaved canine chased after a passing cat.

‘Very clever,’ Piers told the dog dryly, ‘but that doesn’t alter the fact that you dug up the colonel’s prize plants or the fact that you chewed my shoe.’

Happily Ben wagged his tail.

Nor did it alter the fact that, so far as Georgia was concerned, there was no contest about who came first in her affections, and it certainly wasn’t him, Piers acknowledged grimly. It had hurt him to be accused of hating Ben so unjustly; he didn’t hate the dog at all; he simply felt that he wasn’t a suitable pet for his godmother.

‘You’re a man’s dog,’ he told Ben severely. ‘You need to know who’s boss.’ He would be a wonderful family pet, though, Piers acknowledged as Ben paused to let a woman walking in the opposite direction with two young children admire and stroke him.

As Piers put Ben through his paces he was forced to concede that Georgia was doing an excellent job. Ben behaved perfectly, responding immediately to every command but, at the same time, exhibiting a kind of dignity that made it plain that his obedience came on his own terms and because it was what
he
wanted to do. As he praised him for his good behaviour and Ben wagged his tail, enjoying the fuss being made of him, Piers acknowledged that, under different circumstances, he could have become very fond of the dog.

‘Come on, boy,’ he instructed. ‘Time to go home.’

Home! Ben’s ears pricked up. Home meant food and Georgia.

They were almost back when Piers suddenly remembered that he needed to get in touch with the estate agent. It would be as easy to get in his car and drive into town and see the man as telephone him, he decided, and that way he could tell him that he had changed his mind about both properties and intended to look for something smaller.

He had his car keys with him, but he also had Ben. Frowning a little, he looked from the dog to the car and then, shrugging his shoulders, unlocked the car door and opened the rear door for the dog.

Immediately Ben hopped in and settled himself on the rear seat happily—Piers already knew that he was quite comfortable about travelling in the car. Closing the door, he got into the driver’s seat and then activated the electric windows to make sure that the dog had enough fresh air. It was a warm day, not too hot for a human being, but Ben was a dog with a thick coat and Piers was mindful of the fact that he needed a cooler environment.

The car park opposite the town square on to which the estate agent’s office fronted had a couple of empty parking spaces, but neither of them offered the kind of shade he felt that Ben needed so, instead, he turned down a small side street, parking his car on the shady side of the road and leaving the rear windows and the sun roof open enough to allow Ben plenty of fresh air.

He wouldn’t be gone long.

‘Good boy,’ he told Ben as he walked away. Ben thumped his tail and settled happily on the seat. He liked travelling in cars, and it was very pleasant lying here in the shade where he could watch the world go by.

There were several cars parked on the narrow side street, but only one of them interested the two youths who slid deftly in and out of the shadows, trying every car door they passed, more out of habit than any real interest as they headed for Piers’s car. They had been watching as Piers parked the large, gleaming Jaguar, their boredom momentarily lifting as they studied the car’s sleek lines.

‘No good for ram-raiding,’ one of them said to the other, shaking his head.

‘Nah,’ the other agreed. ‘Cool for speed, though. We could really give the cops a run for their money in that.’

Now, whilst one of them watched the street, the other quickly forced the lock on the driver’s door. He knew exactly how to do so, and how to deactivate the car’s alarm system and start the engine. After all, he had had plenty of practice, most of it whilst he was still under the legal age to drive.

As the two youths slid into the car, Ben gave a low growl, but as they turned up the sound of the radio and searched for a preferred station neither of them heard it.

On the pedestrian crossing a young mother with a small child and an elderly man both shot indignant, frightened looks after the departing speeding car, making its two occupants laugh, but to their disappointment, as they raced past the town’s police station, there was no one there to witness their provocative behaviour, no striped police car to pursue them and give chase, adding to the excitement and exhilaration of their afternoon.

They knew the town and its environs even better than any cop could possibly do, they were fond of boasting, and they had safe places where they could hide out, garages they could drive into whilst the police searched for them.

This car, like all the others they had stolen, would end up either wrecked or broken up for ‘spares’.

As they shot across a roundabout, causing other drivers to brake and swerve, they both laughed, whilst in the back Ben growled.

* * *

Piers was longer in the estate agent’s than he had expected, his original decision to tell the agent that he had decided against both the properties he had viewed oddly overturned by the sight of a photograph in the window of the farmhouse. Looking at it, Piers had undergone an unfamiliar wavering and a totally unexpected and unwanted change of heart.

‘The farmhouse?’ the agent queried, frowning. ‘But I thought...’

‘I’m prepared to offer them the full asking price,’ Piers heard himself telling the agent, ‘on the condition that they move out almost immediately.’

The agent’s frown deepened.

‘But I thought you said that you wanted...’ His voice tailed off as he saw the look in Piers’s eyes. ‘I’ll telephone the vendors now and put your offer to them,’ he offered instead.

Ten minutes later, as he walked out of the estate agent’s office, Piers had committed himself to buying the farmhouse. Was he totally and completely mad?

He started to walk a little faster, unwilling to pursue his own thoughts, and then came to an abrupt halt as he turned into the street where he had left his car and saw someone else had parked where he had expected to find his Jaguar—and Ben! A quick check of the street confirmed that there were no signs anywhere warning against parking and threatening clamping and removal of vehicles should anyone do so, convincing Piers that his car had not been removed by some righteous corporation official.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a police patrol car turning into the street and immediately he hailed the driver, quickly explaining to him that his car appeared to have gone missing.

‘And the registration number of the vehicle, sir?’ the police officer asked him politely.

Tersely Piers gave it to him.

‘There was a dog in the car,’ Piers told the officer, ‘and to be honest I’m more concerned about him than I am about the vehicle.’

As he spoke Piers realised, a little to his own astonishment, that it was the truth. His first thought when he had realised that his car had gone had been for Ben.

‘A dog, you say?’ The policeman frowned.

Ten minutes later Piers was at the police station reporting the theft of his car—and Ben—in more detail.

‘Look,’ he told the police officer taking his statement. ‘If it will help I’m fully prepared to offer a financial reward...’

The police officer pursed his lips.

‘I doubt it will do any good, sir,’ he told Piers politely. ‘It’s more than likely that the car—’

‘It’s not the return of the car that concerns me,’ Piers interrupted him. ‘The reward would be for the safe return of Ben, the dog...’

‘We’ll do our best, sir,’ was the police officer’s courteous response as Piers signed his statement and got up to leave.

* * *

Georgia looked anxiously at the kitchen clock. She had been expecting Piers back with Ben ages ago. Where was he? Where were they? Had Ben misbehaved, perhaps even run off, refusing to come back? She closed her eyes. She could just imagine how Piers would react to
that
. ‘Oh, Ben,’ she pleaded under her breath, ‘please, please be good.’ In championing the dog she knew that she had destroyed whatever slim chance there might have been of Piers changing his opinion about her, and...

And what? Falling in love with her, feeling something much, much more than mere unemotional sexual desire for her? How
could
she have deserted Ben, though? How could she possibly have wanted a love that came with that kind of price tag? And besides, she didn’t want Piers’s love, did she?

She started up as she heard the front door being opened. The
front
door. A small feather of alarm curled through her stomach. Piers would never bring Ben in through the front door after a long walk, risking the dog’s muddy paws on his godmother’s elegant carpets.

When Piers opened the kitchen door Georgia was standing with her back to the kitchen table, the same table on which he had threatened so sensuously, so
temptingly
, to make love to her. Her body tensed.