The Dog House (Harding's World of Romance) (19 page)

She gave a feeble attempt at a smile. “Sure,” she said in a careless way. “I’ve had fun. But I’
m not a game of golf, Colin, just a plaything to keep you amused.”

Some sort of vague awareness seemed to be dawning on Colin as a more understanding look crossed his face. Tentatively he placed a strong hand on her arm and looked at her earnestly. “Is that what you’re angry about?” he asked. “You think I don’t care enough? I told you before,
if I don’t seem terribly serious it’s because I’m happy, not because I lack passion. Did you really think I don’t have any passion for you?”

He kept his eyes locked on hers as he pulled her toward him, as if visual contact could provide the words he couldn’t say. She knew that she needed more, some sort of definition to their relationship, but at the same time she was so relieved to hear that he cared that she let herself be drawn reluctantly into his embrace.

All of his emotion and unspoken passion seemed to go into that kiss. Fiona closed her eyes and let herself be convinced by the desperate urgency of his kiss, the feeling of his arms holding her tighter, the sense that he was trying to communicate something important. And she felt herself respond with equal urgency, clinging to him and feeling her thoughts be swept away by the growing rush of emotions and longing.

At some level she knew that she would regret this. Her doubts had never included their physical compatibility, having been aware of their mutual chemistry since his first impudent kiss in the fish and chips shop. Neither did her analytical mind fully equate Colin’s desire for her with love and attachment.

But she couldn’t stop this. All of their contact throughout the day and now the raw emotion she had been feeling seemed to fuel them explosively and she gave in to her desire as he pushed her back into the sofa. Just hours earlier she had imagined the same scene but without the underlying disappointment and despair, the deep knowledge that she wasn’t able to give herself this freely without attachment, that she needed more. And still she let go to their ardent desire and shut off her mind as their bodies joined, holding onto Colin all through a long and passionate night as if their physical intimacy might somehow save them.

Chapter Eleven

“So was that a break-up or just your first fight?” Sarah asked as they returned from walking Livingstone on the trails across from the Dog House. Even after the walk he was full of energy, gambolling around them playfully, wanting more. The definite autumn nip in the air seemed to make him friskier than ever, excited by the crunching sound of fallen leaves as he ran through them and the distinct, earthy smell of decomposing vegetation.

“Let him run around a bit more in the garden while we make tea,” Fiona said, giving his shaggy head a fond scratch as she opened the back door and let him out. Then she sighed and turned to her friend. “It’s hard to say,” she said in exasperation. “You can’t really break up when it was never really a relationship to start with. And you can’t really fight with somebody who never gets angry or upset.”

Sarah sent her a sympathetic look as she filled the kettle and put it on the stove. “He didn’t even get angry when you told him where to shove his fancy castle?” she asked with a gentle smile.

Fiona shook her head dispiritedly. “The man takes everything in his stride.
Everything. It’s like his motto is to keep life as simple as possible so he can just saunter through life in his easy-going style. I guess it works for most things, but it sure doesn’t work for me.”

“Because you’ve finally decided that you do want a relationship,” Sarah concluded. “
Which is what it sounds like already, by the way. Maybe he just thinks that it’s so obvious that it doesn’t need to be said.”

Fiona looked dubious. “Maybe this is just how he interacts with women he likes, no commitments or restrictions or reasons to fight, taking things as they come until the fun wears off. I don’t know. But I don’t want to be just one of his women he takes to certain
events, or his side-experiment when he wants to try slumming it. I want to know if this is special to him. Otherwise, it isn’t worth it.”

“Not even for the sex?” Sarah asked mischievously
, busying herself with preparing the tea pot.

This time Fiona’s response was more ambiguous. “It is amazing,” she had to admit. “But that only makes it more complicated, somehow. I don’t think I’m the type who can have casual sex with a friend on a regular basis without starting to see it as a relationship and wanting exclusivity at least.”

“But you stayed the night anyway,” Sarah pointed out. “So some part of you was okay with it.”

“My hormones shouldn’t call all the shots here,” Fiona said crossly. “Maybe I am too serious and have to define everything, but otherwise I just feel lost, or like I’m investing emotions into a black hole.
I don’t seem able to keep my emotions from getting involved, at least not with Colin.”

“I think you’re just a romantic,” Sarah said stoutly. “
Which is a good thing, by the way. But from what you’ve said, it doesn’t sound like Colin is only after the sex or he could skip the long day of watching you play golf, or your walks in the countryside in the rain. There are more efficient forms of seduction.”

Fiona smiled wanly.
“You mean skipping straight to the red wine?” she asked sheepishly. She was still unimpressed with her own weakness in surrendering to her desire rather than listening to her head. She had never been in the habit of letting hormones and emotions override rational thinking and it made her uneasy, wondering if this was a sign of blind infatuation rather than mutual appreciation.

“You don’t think I’m becoming obsessional or something, do you?” she asked Sarah in a worried tone.

Sarah laughed. “On the contrary. It’s still early enough in your relationship, or whatever you call it, to let yourself just follow your heart for a while and find yourself ending up in bed after a tiff. It’s normal. I swear, I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve ever had a normal, human relationship before.”

“Of course I have,” Fiona snapped crossl
y as she took the kettle off the stove and poured. “Where we actually called it a relationship and sort of knew what was going on.”

“Maybe he
just needs a bit more time,” Sarah suggested. “To figure out where you’re headed…” She let her voice trail away. “Do you even know where you’re headed or what you want?”

“I just don’t want to be a plaything for the rich,” Fiona said moodily.
“To feel used.”

Sarah smiled slyly. “Why not just use him back then? Enjoy
the sex while you figure things out, and if it doesn’t work out, at least you’ve had some fun along the way.”

Fiona was silent. Her friend had put words to her own unspoken thoughts about the physical side of her relationship with Colin. There was a reckless abandon in their love-making which was new and exciting to Fiona, and while she
didn’t want this to be the basis of their interactions, it was hard to resist the temptation of seeing him at least one more time to experience the heady sensations of unrestrained desire.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts as Sarah handed her a tea cup, looking at her wryly. “I don’t even want to know what you were thinking about just there, but you’re looking rather hot and bothered. Most sane people don’t walk away from this stage of discovering a new person. Just enjoy it while it lasts.”

“I think I’ll have to see him once more to have a proper discussion,” Fiona decided grudgingly. “To sort things out more clearly for me, because the uncertainty is killing me. Well, keeping me from being able to focus on my work, which could kill my career. If you can call it that.”

“Go on, you’re still hard at work every day,” her friend pointed out. “It isn’t as if you’re pining away out on the moors and going mad.”

“Is that a reference to Wuthering Heights?” Fiona asked with a grin. “It wasn’t quite like that, but no, neither am I. But I seem to be interpreting all of Campbell’s notes and poetry through the filter of what I’m going through myself. For example, his crisp and invigorating autumn scenes are fading into a harsher winter and I can’t help thinking that his romantic episode is over.”

“I thought that was the point of poetry, to let everyone interpret whatever they want,” Sarah pointed out. “Although I have to say it’s mostly all wasted on me, apart from the lyrics to good pop songs, and even they only speak to me at the start or ending of a relationship.”

Fiona finally laughed out loud. “I know, I’m overreacting. And it’s only been a few days. It isn’t as if we left on a bad note, just not a good one.”

“His fault or yours?”

“Mine,” she acknowledged ruefully. “I didn’t say that much, just rushed off in the morning to pick up Livingstone. He probably thinks I was simply exhausted, since we didn’t sleep much.”

“I don’t need to hear about that,” Sarah pretended to object. “If he’s as easy-going as he sounds, he won’t go looking for hidden tensions. Besides, he’s a guy. Rich or poor, after a night of passion he’s sure to feel that everything is right in this world.”

“But he hasn’t called,” Fiona was quick to point out.

“And neither have you,” Sarah shot ba
ck logically. “You probably both just need a few days to sort out your thoughts. Or catch up on sleep. Or actually do your work – at  least in your case. Didn’t you say his parents are visiting right now?”

Fiona nodded slowly.
She hated to be such a stereotype in over-analysing everything, but she couldn’t help it. Her thoughts about Colin’s evasive responses were muddled by their night together. In any case, she couldn’t doubt that he found her attractive.

The two women wandered into the living room and sat down by the fire, finally switching conversation topics as Sarah launched into stories about a party in the pub last weekend. She was funny and animated and it did Fiona a lot of good to think about something other than Colin for a while, until
she glanced out the window and saw Livingstone jogging up the road, coming from the direction of the castle.

“He went back there!” she cried in dismay, interrupting Sarah’s anecdote by jumping up and pointing.
Both women exchanged alarmed glances and soon they were sprinting outside to coax the free-spirited dog into the house where he collapsed in front of the fire and watched them, tongue lolling and tail thumping on the flagstones in a contented way.

“He was definitely coming back from the castle,” Fiona groaned in despair
, rubbing her temples in a distracted way. “I wonder what he’s done this time.”

“Were we talking for so long?” Sarah asked dubiously. “Maybe he just went over the wall after a squirrel and took the road back because it’s easier.”

“Or a faster getaway,” Fiona said darkly, feeling a knot of tension grow in her stomach.

“If he’d been seen he’d probably have been shot,” her friend said helpfully, having read the warning note. “So probably nobody noticed.”

“I certainly hope not,” Fiona said glumly, sitting back on the sofa with a sense of helplessness. “I’d been meaning to tell Colin about him but things got out of hand, and then I thought it wasn’t worth it. Now I’ll have to wait again to make sure he hasn’t racked up some huge bill in repairs that I wouldn’t be able to pay anyway.”

“The Parkers can afford it,” Sarah said dismissively.
“Unless he swallowed the Kohinoor diamond or something.”

Fiona was impressed. “You’re quite full of cultural references today,” she said approvingly.

“Studying up for pub quiz night,” Sarah grinned back. “You should come on Tuesdays. We could use you on our team. Finally make a few quid with those brains of yours. And we put out free snacks.”

“Maybe I’ll come,” Fiona agreed
, realising that she could use a bit of distraction from her nights at home spent thinking too much. “If I haven’t been evicted or imprisoned by then.”

“Or accidentally fallen back into Colin’s bed?” Sarah added with a wink.

Fiona stared moodily at the fire. Any of the available options seemed better than this endless cycle of reasoning that went in circles and always ended in the twinkling blue eyes of Colin Parker.

“Father, Mum, welcome back,” Colin said graciously as he opened the door of their Jaguar to greet William and Elisabeth Parker. “What on earth is that?”

A white, furry form shot past him and jumped onto the gravel, staring up at him suspiciously.

“That’s Skye’s Challenger, or Peewee,” his mother announced happily, stepping out gracefully. She was dressed in her country clothing, an elegant ensemble in beiges and browns with expensive but practical shoes.

Colin rolled his eyes. “You haven’t bought another dog, have you?” he asked with a shake of his head.

“Bought, no,” his mother told him cheerfully. “Just bringing her down to Kent to a West Highland terrier breeder. She’s in heat and Mildred wants her bred, but there are no pedigree kennels worth speaking of up here. So I said that we’d take her down with us in exchange for one of the pups. All of which means we’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”

Colin’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s sooner than expected,” he said cautiously, wondering if that meant that the long-dreaded lecture was to be postponed for another visit. He looked at Peewee with greater respect.