the curve of her breast.
She mumbled her reply, surprised she could remember her name, feeling dizzy at the expertise of this man’s kisses. God, he …
‘I’m sorry, Mr Sutherland, I had no idea—–!
My God, Danny!’ Don Bridgeman, Head of Security for the Sutherland estate, gasped as he stood several feet away from them, his dark-suited figure strangely out of place.
‘What is it?’ Pierce sat up, effectively shielding Danny as she straightened her bikini.
‘We have a security alert on the west wall—–’
‘I’m surprised you were aware of it,’ Pierce snapped with icy reproval as he stood up.
‘Sir …?’ Don Bridgeman looked puzzled.
‘Never mind,’ Pierce dismissed. ‘I’ll talk to you about that later. Wait for me outside.’
Danny watched the exchange with a puzzled frown, feeling sorry for the older man, knowing his rebuke had all been her fault. But how was she supposed to know her casually given admission would cause this much trouble; the alarm was only off for a matter of minutes, for goodness’ sake!
‘I’m sorry about this.’ Pierce put out a hand to pull her to her feet, instantly releasing her as she straightened. ‘I had no idea we would be interrupted.’
She dismissed the apology with an impatient shrug. ‘What are you going to do about Dave Benson?’
His head went back haughtily. ‘I don’t believe that is any of your business.’
‘But—–’
‘If you’ll excuse me, I have to go and check on this break in security,’ he cut in pointedly.
Danny would have liked to have said more, but she could see by the implacability of his rigidly clenched jaw that Pierce wasn’t in the mood to listen. With a shrug she collected up her robe and left, the mischievous leaps and bounds of Ferdinand and Kilpatrick as they accompanied her back to the cottage not soothing her at all. Pierce seemed to be a powerful and respected man—and she was more deeply attracted to him than any man she had ever met.
‘ANY more lemon meringue pie?’
Danny stood up with a smile, going to the dish that stood on top of the cooker.
‘You make the best lemon meringue pie I’ve ever tasted.’ Gary watched her movements.
It had been a successful meal, plain English cooking, soup, roast beef with all the trimmings, and Gary’s favourite dessert, lemon meringue pie, but she knew that was the sort of food he preferred, not a man to go in for exotic food. Thank goodness, because she couldn’t cook exotic food!
She had finally come up with this idea midweek, inviting Gary over for a meal, knowing he would mention it to Cheryl the next time he saw her, and knowing that her sister would instantly be suspicious; her lack of cooking ability had become a family joke over the years, and it was something she avoided at all costs. Close as the sisters were, Cheryl would not appreciate Danny inviting Gary here when she herself wasn’t present.
Gary was her own age, the two of them in the same class at school, in fact it had been because of their casual friendship that Cheryl and Gary had met and fallen in love. Cheryl would not be pleased to know Gary had spent the evening with Danny.
The idea had come to her as she spent the afternoon in the seclusion of the vegetable garden, trying desperately to think of some way to bring Cheryl to her senses, her sister having telephoned her again the previous evening before going out to a party with Nigel Patrick. It had suddenly seemed imperative that she do something to stop the relationship, sure that Cheryl would regret it if Gary should find out about the other man. She had decided that a little healthy jealousy on Cheryl’s part might not be a bad thing.
Not that Gary saw any romantic interest in her invitation! It would have been insulting if she weren’t used to it. Gary never saw any other woman but Cheryl, and so looked on Danny as a sister; he already had two, one more made no difference! He accepted the invitation to dinner because she was Cheryl’s sister, had talked of nothing but Cheryl since he arrived. Tall and firmly muscled, his only other real interest besides Cheryl was food, he ate the meal she had prepared in appreciative silence.
‘Will Cheryl be coming home this weekend?’ she asked as she gave him his third helping of pie. Her sister had been very non-committal about her plans when they spoke two days ago.
‘No.’ He ate his pie with relish.
She frowned. ‘But I thought it was her turn to come home this weekend?’
‘It is.’ He nodded, his dark hair kept short, his deep blue eyes warm and open, very good-looking in a youthful way. ‘But she needs to study,’ he dismissed. ‘She has her exams soon.’
Danny held back her impatience with effort; the only thing Cheryl would be studying this weekend was Nigel Patrick, she was sure of it. God, her sister was a fool! Not that Nigel Patrick wasn’t charming, he was, very, but he was only interested in having a good time, couldn’t possibly have any lasting interest in a young girl destined to become an English teacher. Sometimes her sister could be so stupid!
‘Coffee?’ she asked Gary absently, receiving a frowning look as she almost removed his bowl before all the pie had been eaten.
‘Thanks.’ He sat back, obviously replete. ‘Shall I help you clear away here?’
She almost laughed at his lack of enthusiasm for the idea, ushering him into the lounge while she made the coffee. Gary was a typical male, he didn’t mind eating the meal, but clearing away the debris was something else entirely. Not that she minded in this case, Gary was something of a menace in the kitchen, usually managing to break at least one thing.
She checked on him while she was waiting for the coffee to percolate, finding him engrossed in the boxing match on the television. No wonder Cheryl found Nigel Patrick more exciting!
She had the coffee ready on a tray when the knock sounded on the back door, and went to answer it. She hadn’t seen Pierce Sutherland over the last three days, and she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t surprised to see him now. For one thing, he looked completely different in the iron-grey pin-striped suit and pale grey shirt, his hair trimmed to a neater style, too. For another thing she just hadn’t expected to see him again, their parting the other evening certainly hadn’t led her to believe they would.
‘I know it’s late,’ he began in that husky voice.
‘It’s only ten-thirty,’ she mocked.
His mouth twisted. ‘I forgot, you’re a night-owl. Solved your problem?’
She thought of Gary sitting comfortably replete in the other room. ‘Working on it.’ She nodded. ‘Was everything all right the other night?’
‘The security alert?’ He nodded. ‘Just a malfunction in the system.’
‘Would you like to come
