Emma Darcy - Australia - In Bed with Her Groom

Normally, she would unpin her hair at this time, brush it out and clip it into a high ponytail to keep it off her neck. Practical it might be, but it didn’t look elegant. She effected a more sophisticated casual look by winding it into a loose knot on top of her head. Several strands artfully escaped.

She dabbed on some Beautiful perfume, applied a silvery pink lipstick, slid her feet into strappy white sandals and hoped that Harry would find her more than passably attractive.

The staircase led down to the family room, which was separated from the kitchen by a wide working counter that also served as a breakfast bar. She heard William peppering Harry with questions as she started down. Something about ghosts. William was fascinated with the supernatural.

Harry, however, lost the thread of their conversation as Ashley came into full view on the staircase. His hands stopped tossing the salad he had mixed in a bowl. He watched her descend as though transfixed by her grace and beauty. At least, Ashley hoped that was what was captivating him, and he wasn’t simply surprised by the change in her appearance. It was much more heart-lifting to fantasise that he was seeing a woman who attracted and intrigued him.

She was conscious of the full skirt swishing around her bare legs as she descended step by step, conscious of silky strands of hair brushing against the smooth golden tan of her bare shoulders, more intensely conscious of her sexuality than she had been in so many years she had forgotten how powerful the feeling could be. She had given up believing she would meet a man who would trigger such a response in her.

She could feel her whole body glowing under the interest in Harry’s eyes, an interest that clearly sizzled with sensual signals as it enveloped all of her, from the loosely draped topknot of her hair to the swell of her full breasts encased in the tightly fitting bodice to the emphasised curve of waist and hips to the dainty slimness of her ankles. All her instincts picked up the knowledge that he found her desirable, and she revelled in the certainty that the strong attraction she felt was not one-sided.

‘Oh, hi, Mum! You’ve interrupted a great story!’ William informed her, seeing no reason for the halt in his entertainment.

‘Your mother has first claim on my attention, William,’ Harry said, quietly but firmly putting her son in his place, his gaze not even slightly wavering from her. His eyes seemed to bathe her with warm pleasure as he added, ‘Good evening, Ashley.’

The formal greeting didn’t feel like a formality at all. It felt like a promise of wonderful things to come. The gateway to possibilities was open. ‘Good evening, Harry,’ she returned, giving him a smile that welcomed him to her world.

He had discarded his suit coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Ashley noticed that his shoulders didn’t need any padding and his forearms were strongly muscular. He was still lean and elegant, but she added physical power to his other attributes, and had little doubt he could fight with more than words, if need be. Harry Cliffton, she decided, was a man with many sides to him. Ashley wanted to discover all of them.

The telephone rang again.

William sighed at this further interruption to the subject that interested him.

Harry took the receiver from the wall phone above the counter. ‘The Harcourt residence…’

Ashley walked to the other side of the counter as Harry listened to the person on the other end of the line.

‘Just a moment, Mrs. Stanton. I’ll see if Mrs. Harcourt is available.’

He held the receiver to his chest as his eyes queried hers.

‘Fusspot,’ William muttered.

Ashley frowned at him, not approving of disrespect to his elders, although privately she was inclined to agree with him. Olivia Stanton was not her favourite person. Nevertheless, she was a neighbour and the mother of one of William’s friends, and it was political to keep on her good side if she wasn’t demanding too much. She nodded to Harry and held out her hand.

‘Mrs. Harcourt will take your call now, Mrs. Stanton,’ Harry announced with marvellous aplomb before passing the receiver to her.

‘Olivia—’ Ashley tried to inject interest into her voice.

‘Ten dollars is a lot of money for one photo, Ashley.’

Olivia hated losing a battle. Flummoxed by Harry, she had obviously decided to shift to another opponent. Having been shown the way to defeat the woman, Ashley took a leaf out of Harry’s book.

‘What price do you put on your son’s smile, Olivia?’ she asked sweetly.

Harry’s eyes danced pure delight at her. Ashley’s heart flipped.

‘All right. It’s very cheap then,’ Olivia conceded, surprising Ashley with such a quick dismissal of the grievance. ‘What I was wondering, Ashley, was whether…I’m having my annual neighbourhood party in a week’s time… .’

This was news to Ashley. She hadn’t received an invitation.

‘I was wondering if you’d lend me your butler and Rolls Royce for the evening?’

Olivia Stanton had the hide of a rhinoceros. It did make her effective at fundraising for the school, which also fed her self-importance, but this was pure one-up-manship on a personal level, no connection whatsoever with public do-gooding.

‘I’m afraid Cliffton is not a lendable commodity, Olivia,’ she replied, barely keeping a sardonic edge out of her voice. ‘It certainly couldn’t be done without his consent. A butler is not a slave, you know. Butlering is a highly respected profession that requires absolute savoir faire and perfect organizational skills, not to mention an impeccable reputation, since he holds such a position of trust.’

Ashley couldn’t stop her eyes from flirting wickedly with Harry’s as she described his position. She paused for a moment to give Olivia time to swallow all she’d said, then obligingly added, ‘I will ask him, if you like.’

‘Well, there’s no harm in asking, I always say,’ came the bull-headed reply.

‘Then please excuse me a moment, Olivia. I’ll put it to him.’ She held her hand over the receiver and grinned at Harry. ‘You’re already in demand. Olivia Stanton would like to borrow your invaluable services for her neighbourhood party.’

‘Don’t do it,’ William said. ‘She’s full of herself as it is.’

‘That’s quite enough, William,’ Ashley reproved sharply. He was getting altogether too bold in his opinions. And indiscreet!

‘The duties of my profession demand that I stay with you,’ Harry stated virtuously.

‘Quite so,’ Ashley agreed with mock seriousness. She lifted the receiver to her ear again. ‘I’m sorry, Olivia. I’m afraid butler ethics prohibit the lending of a butler. He has to stay with me.’

‘Of course, I’d forgotten about that, but perhaps you and he would like to attend as guests.’

Sly vixen, Ashley thought, determined not to fall into that trap. Having established Harry as her butler, to turn up with him as her escort would be tantamount to handing Olivia Stanton evidence that all was not as it should be. After assuming a proper correctness about Harry’s professional life, Ashley was not about to cross lines. Besides, she wanted to keep Harry to herself.

‘I’m quite sure Cliffton will have me ready for your party in time,’ she said with airy confidence. ‘When did you say it was?’

‘Eight o’clock next Saturday.’

‘Lovely! He might even drive me up in the Rolls and park it outside your house for an hour or two.’ That would lend some of the status that Olivia desired for her party. ‘As it’s only a short distance away, I don’t think Cliffton will mind taking me there and walking home. Thank you for inviting me, Olivia. I must go now. Bye.’