Chapter 56
Flora sat on the bed and scanned the room. It was the complete opposite to hers, being very tidy and minimal, with bare cream walls and dark patterned bedding. It was next door to Dylan’s room, joined by a bathroom with two Jack-and-Jill doors. She could hear him in the shower whilst she unpacked the few clothes she’d brought with her. Flora was definitely on the mend, but still a little weak and tired. Despite her initial reservations she was glad to be here in Dylan’s home. Secretly she had been dreading him leaving, still not feeling confident enough to be left alone, but hating the thought of Dylan being with her under sufferance, or obligation. Here he had his own space and a comfortable bed, not the hardness of her bedroom floor. Flora wondered how she would have coped without him, then instantly stopped herself. She mustn’t get needy or attached. He was her employer now.
He knocked on her door, then poked his head round. His dark curls were wet, as was the dark chest sticking out from behind the door. ‘All done, bathroom’s free.’ He noticed Flora’s eyes home in on his bare torso. He stood there a moment longer, giving her the full benefit.
‘Er… right, thanks,’ she blinked, and turned away blushing.
Dylan smirked to himself. Plenty more where that came from. He was going to make it very difficult for Flora to resist him.
‘Do you want me to run you a bath?’ He stepped further into her room and stood there in nothing but a towel. Flora couldn’t tear her eyes away from his body. She had almost forgotten how well toned he was. His regular visits to the gym and good diet most definitely paid off. Suddenly images of the Racer commercial flashed into her mind and she started to giggle.
Not really wanting or expecting this response Dylan asked rather defensively, ‘What’s so funny?’
‘You, dressed like that in a towel.’ Then she imitated his deep voice, ‘Never be pipped at the post. I always win wearing Racer,’ then winked.
‘Oh, very funny, Flora,’ he answered with a half-smiling, half-challenging look. ‘Any more of that and I’ll tickle you.’ He remembered exactly where her soft spot was, under her arms. She started to giggle again at him. ‘Right, you asked for this.’ He jumped onto the bed and began tickling her mercilessly.
‘Dylan, stop!’ She laughed and wriggled on the bed underneath him.
‘No way.’ He knelt over her, his hands snatching at her body, making her hysterical. Finally he relented. Tears poured down her cheeks, her chest was panting up and down. ‘Surrender?’ he asked, staring into her face.
‘Never,’ she replied, staring back.
‘Right, here we go again.’ He grabbed under her arms.
‘No! I surrender,’ she cried.
‘That’s better.’ He stopped and looked into her eyes, then dipped his head momentarily. Flora froze. Was he going to kiss her? She closed her eyes. Nothing happened. She opened them to find Dylan climbing off her. ‘Let’s get moving. There’s lots to do.’
Flora took a deep breath and reminded herself why she was there, as his employee.
Half an hour later they were in Dylan’s large garage surrounded by all the stock they had ordered. He passed her a clipboard with the invoice and the order. Whilst he checked each item had been delivered, Flora ticked it off the list. After an hour and all the items had been accounted for, they started to load what they could into Dylan’s Jeep and trailer. Flora carried the smaller, lighter items, leaving the heavier, bulkier ones for Dylan to heave about. She marvelled at his strength, watching his muscular shoulders and arms at work. He clocked her staring at him and smirked again to himself. He was a patient man; he’d bide his time. She was looking pretty damn cute too, in her skinny jeans displaying her sexy curves and thin, strappy top which her nipples poked against. The sexual tension between the two of them was evident, and they both could sense it rising.
‘You look tired, Flora.’ He was concerned, hoping he hadn’t overworked her. They’d finally finished loading most of the stock.
‘I’m fine,’ she lied, obviously not convincingly, though, as Dylan put his arm round her shoulders.
‘Come on, it’s lunchtime.’ He led her back into the house. ‘You sit at the breakfast bar and I’ll make us a sandwich.’
Flora was glad to rest her legs. She glanced round. It was a typical man’s kitchen, she thought, with its glossy black units and granite worktops. The walls were white tiled. He seemed to have every gadget under the sun, from the complicated-looking silver coffee machine to the chrome blender. It was a far cry from the farmhouse-style kitchen at home, with its wooden doors and open shelves packed with mismatched crockery.
‘What are you thinking?’ He watched her eyes dart around the room.
‘Just how clinically clean and tidy your house it. It’s very masculine, isn’t it?’
‘You saying it needs a woman’s touch?’ He arched an eyebrow.
‘No!’ she quickly replied, not wanting to cause offence.
He shrugged. ‘I’m open to offers,’ he smiled.
Flora blushed and looked down. She was so easy to rib and easy to read. An open book – that was her charm he had come to understand. Flora had an honest, simple way about her he couldn’t help but warm to. She’d make a wonderful mum. His thought pattern alarmed him. Never had he ever considered this with any other woman. He cast another look at her whilst busy making the sandwiches, propped up on the stool, elbows on the breakfast bar looking so innocent, yet still a touch pasty-faced. Perhaps she’d done too much this morning, fetching and carrying. He cursed himself for not taking better care of her.
‘Do you fancy looking at the stable yard this afternoon? It’s almost finished.’
Her face lit up. ‘Yes! I’d love to see it.’ Then she asked, ‘Have you advertised for the stable staff yet?’
‘Don’t need to. Three of Sean Fox’s staff have asked me for jobs.’
