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Authors: Ros Clarke

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

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BOOK: Reckless Runaway at the Racecourse
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     ‘Fine, I won’t tell you. Which one are you backing?’

     He thought for a moment. ‘Clanwilliam. He had a good run last time out and was unlucky to be edged into third. He looks really well today and I think he’s got a good chance.’

     ‘He was the one frothing up, though, wasn’t he?’

     ‘I told you, it’s normal.’

     They wandered through to the front of the stands where the bookmakers plied their trade. Fiendish Cat was listed at the bottom of the boards at a generous 100-1.

     ‘How much are you going to risk at those odds?’

     ‘My life savings, of course. Here.’ She pulled a twenty pound note out of her purse.

     ‘Okay. Wait here a minute. I’ll see if I can get you a good deal.’

     Fliss watched him weave through the crowds to a stand nearer the rails. He said something to the bookmaker who laughed, then handed him a ticket. Luke stopped at a different stand on the way back, to make his own bet, Fliss guessed.

     ‘Don’t lose it,’ Luke warned her as he gave her the ticket for her wager.

     He took her hand and led her back into the Members Enclosure. No betting was permitted inside this enclosure, though there were bookmakers all along the rails outside, accepting large amounts of money from the wealthier Members. Fliss and Luke found a spot in the stands where they could watch the race.

     ‘Having fun?’ he enquired.

     ‘Well, no drunks have tried to grope me yet,’ she said, ‘so that’s a definite improvement on last week. Though no heroes have come to my rescue either.’

     ‘How are your shoes holding up?’

     She laughed. ‘Perfectly.’ She hadn’t exactly taken Luke’s advice to wear sensible shoes but she hadn’t brought her stilettos either. Wedge-heeled sandals with leaf green ribbons that criss-crossed up her ankles and calves were perfectly summery and sexy, without sinking into the grass at every step. ‘I made sure to put some spare knickers in my handbag this time, too. Want to see?’

     Luke took a deep breath. ‘Later.’

     ‘Okay,’ Fliss said sunnily. ‘I think the race is about to start, anyway. I wouldn’t want you to get distracted.’

     ‘No.’ He was already distracted by the very thought of her knickers. Fliss’s underwear was all exquisitely designed to distract. Delicious scraps of tactile silk and lace in vivid rainbow colours: turquoise blue, fuchsia pink, or tangerine orange. Maybe scarlet. If he was
very
lucky it would be scarlet. He sucked in his breath again and lifted his binoculars. Time to focus on his job.

     The field were close together as they galloped down the track for a short six-furlong sprint. Less than a minute to win it. Half way through, a small group of horses began to edge ahead. The grey of Clanwilliam was easy to pick out among them. Fliss was cheering and yelling too. Fiendish Cat had found some unexpected form and was hanging on to the leading pack.

     Clanwilliam was in the lead. Just one furlong to go. A hundred yards. Fifty. In the last ten strides, a black horse streaked past him on the outside.

     On the nod. They called the photo-finish, but Luke had seen enough close-run races to know he’d lost. At least Fliss’s horse had done all right for her, though she didn’t realise it yet.

     ‘Third,’ she pronounced in disgust. Fliss pulled the ticket out of her pocket and was about to rip it up.

     ‘No!’ Luke put out a hand to stop her. ‘Fiendish Cat came third.’

     ‘So?’ She shrugged. ‘She didn’t win.’

     ‘She never had a chance of winning. I put your money on each way.’

     ‘Each way?’ she repeated blankly.

     ‘You win some money even if the horse comes in second or third. At a hundred to one, you’ll get paid out, um, ten pounds at a quarter of the odds. Two hundred and fifty quid. Plus the stake back.’ He smiled at her, waiting for the delight to reach her eyes as she realised what she’d won.

     It never came. ‘You put my money on each way? Without asking me?’

     ‘Yes, but…’

     ‘No!’ Golden eyes flashed at Luke in unmistakeable anger. ‘How dare you? What makes you think you have the right to make that kind of decision for me?’

     ‘I just thought it would be a better chance. And it paid off. You’re two hundred and fifty pounds better off.’ Luke smiled at her, pleased that she had some decent winnings.

     ‘No, I’m not.’ Fliss shook her head decisively, daring him to disagree. ‘You put the money on. You take the ticket.’

     ‘Don’t be ridiculous. It was your stake.’

     ‘Fine. You can give me the twenty quid back.’

     He grasped her shoulders. ‘Fliss, look. I don’t need the money.’

     She blazed with anger at that. ‘And I do? I’m not a charity case. I pay my own way, Luke.’

     ‘I haven’t got time to discuss this now. I have to go and saddle up for the next race. Give me that.’ Luke twitched the ticket out of Fliss’s hand, turned on his heel and left.

     She glared at his departing back until the crowds hid him from sight. How dare he behave like that? Making decisions for her as if she was a child who couldn’t be trusted? And then patronisingly telling her that she needed the money more than he did. Unbelievable!

     It wasn’t as though she couldn’t use the cash. But surely everyone could afford to spend twenty quid at the races, and anyone would be glad to go home with two hundred and fifty in their pocket? Clearly Luke’s business was doing pretty well, but she’d seen his shabby home with its ancient carpets and curtains. He wasn’t exactly loaded either. Why was he being so stubborn?

Fliss ground her teeth and tried to resist the temptation to blow all the cash in her purse on an outsider in the next race just to prove a point to Luke.

     ‘Excuse me.’

     The sultry voice of the most overtly glamorous woman Fliss had ever met interrupted her thoughts.

     ‘You’re here with Luke Caldecott, aren’t you?’

     She was poured into a tightly clinging red dress which showed off a spectacular cleavage and long legs that Fliss could only dream off. Dark hair was twisted up into an elegant style, with one curl trailing deliberately down her shoulder.

     ‘Yes,’ Fliss replied.

     ‘Lucky girl.’ The woman’s dark eyes ran up and down Fliss’s body assessingly. ‘Very lucky girl to land a catch like that.’

     ‘A catch?’ Fliss shook her head. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Or who you are.’

     The woman laughed. It was nothing like Fliss’s own giggle, nor Luke’s rich chuckle. There was no amusement lurking in this laugh, only disdain.

     ‘Luke knows who I am.’

     ‘Well, Luke’s not here and I don’t.’ Fliss started to walk away, thoroughly disturbed by the whole encounter.

     ‘Don’t forget to give him my love,’ she heard, quite distinctly. ‘And if ever you get tired of his millions, feel free to send him back in my direction.’

     Fliss froze for an instant, her hands curling into fists as she fought the impulse to give the bitch as good as she gave. No, it was no good. She swivelled back, insults burning to come out. But the woman had gone and the words died on Fliss’s lips. Damn.

 

    

     Luke found her an hour later in the Owners and Trainers Bar.

     ‘I’ve been looking for you,’ he said with a hint of reproach in his voice. ‘I hoped you’d come down to the paddock before the race.’

     Fliss shrugged.

     ‘I’m sorry,’ he offered. ‘I should have checked with you before I put the bet on. It was your money and you’re entitled to waste it any way you want.’

     She relaxed a little at his apology. ‘Yes.’

     He reached into his pocket and laid a roll of notes on the table. ‘So, what should we do with this?’

     Fliss cocked her head. ‘Truth or dare?’

     Luke’s eyebrows rose. ‘I beg your pardon?’

     She giggled. It was so easy to tease him. ‘Truth or dare. We take it in turns to ask a question. You can either answer - truthfully - or accept a dare. In this case, the dare is fixed. You have to take the money.’

     He shook his head in disbelief. ‘You’re crazy.’

     ‘I know.’ She winked at him. ‘Are you in?’

     Luke spread his hands and sighed. ‘I suppose so.’

     ‘Good. Me first. How much do you fancy me?’

     Luke grimaced. Then he eyed the money. He had to tell her the truth. There was no way he was taking her money. ‘A lot.’

     Fliss leaned over and kissed him briefly. ‘Me too. Your turn.’

     ‘What colour are your spare knickers?’

     She laughed and picked up her handbag. He watched in agony as she hunted through the pile of junk she kept in their. ‘Here!’ she finally announced. ‘Green.’ Lime green. With navy blue lace. Luke’s mouth went dry.

     It was Fliss’s turn for a question and this time she went straight for the jugular. ‘How did you get the scars on your back?’

     ‘Fell off a horse.’

     She waited.

     He sighed. ‘I wanted to be a jockey when I was a teenager.’

     ‘A jockey? But you’re too tall.’

     ‘Not for a jump jockey. Anyway, in my third race I fell off, got trampled by the field and decided to retire ignominiously before I got killed.’

     ‘I’m sorry.’

     He ignored her sympathy and took his chance. ‘How much is in your bank account right now?’

     ‘None of your business,’ she told him automatically.

     ‘Truth or dare.’ He pushed the pile of notes a couple of inches towards her.

     Fliss bit her lip, looked up at him pleadingly, then squared her shoulders. ‘Fine. Fifty three pounds and sixty-five pence this morning. Overdrawn.’

     Luke opened his mouth.

     ‘And don’t you dare offer me any money.’

     ‘A loan?’ he suggested, without any real hope she’d take it. ‘An advance on your salary?’

     ‘Thanks, but no thanks.’

     ‘Fliss, you can’t live on nothing. Take the money. You won it.’

     She shook her head mutinously.

     ‘Stubborn, aren’t you? It’s not a virtue.’

     ‘You’d know about that. How much is in your bank account right now?’ Two could play at this game.

     ‘About twenty thousand pounds, I think,’ he answered easily, though he was obviously surprised to be asked.

     Fliss shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you.’

     ‘It’s true. You filed the bank statements, remember? You can check when we get home.’

     ‘No, I want to know where the rest of your millions are kept.’ She had tried not to let it bother her. She knew she wasn’t after Luke for his money, but still she couldn’t quite bear that other people thought she might be.

     ‘I have a portfolio of stocks and shares, a couple of companies that I invest in and several properties. I don’t keep that much cash in hand. Only what I need for the day to day running of the stables. Why are you interested?’

     ‘Just wondering why you hadn’t told me.’

     ‘I didn’t think it was relevant. This was supposed to be fun. Temporary. Casual. Right?’

     ‘Right.’ Of course he was right. There was no reason for Luke to tell her stuff like this.

     ‘How did you find out, anyway?’

     ‘Someone told me. A woman. She said you’d know who she was.’

     He frowned. ‘I know quite a lot of women.’

     ‘I bet you do.’

     ‘Not like that.’

     Fliss shrugged. ‘She obviously thought I was with you because of your millions.’

     ‘And are you?’

     ‘I didn’t know about them, remember?’ That was what stung, Fliss suddenly realised. Not the idea that a complete stranger assumed she was a money-grubbing tart. The problem was that it felt as though Luke hadn’t been honest with her. As though he hadn’t trusted her.

     ‘Fine. So why does it matter?’

     ‘You didn’t tell me.’

     Luke looked away. Fliss instinctively reached out to grab his hand

     ‘Sorry, forget I said that,’ she said urgently. ‘I don’t know what came over me. You don’t have to tell me anything.’ Casual. Temporary. No strings attached to either of them.

     ‘I’m not taking your money,’ he warned her in a low voice.

     ‘I’ve got a better idea. Let’s choose another horse to put it on. If we win, we’ll split it.’ Fliss looked at him encouragingly, relieved when she saw the answering spark in his eyes.

     ‘Fine. But I’ll choose the horse,’ he insisted.

     ‘No. We’ll choose the horse together. Come on, let’s go and have a look.’

Luke was absolutely determined that they should pick a decent horse. He wanted Fliss to have the money. The last race of the afternoon was a handicap for older horses. Only seven were entered and he had already written off four of them.

BOOK: Reckless Runaway at the Racecourse
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