Page 11 of Sparring Partners
Adrian snorted, and the heat in Luca’s face burned brighter. He hadn’t meant to sound so snotty. Or maybe he had.
“Therefore, indeed. I was good at Latin when I was at school. It was a big help when I studied French and Italian. And Spanish.” Adrian grinned, his teeth bright in his tanned face.
“Good evening, Mr. Hardy. I’ll do my best not to get lost.”Which is exactly what you can go and do.
“It’s easily done up here, if you don’t know the area well.”
Luca didn’t answer as he pressed his key to release the lock on his car. About to get in, Adrian’s question stopped him.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive? You had that turn earlier. I can follow you if you like, or even take you back.”
“Er…” Luca floundered, and scrambled for his answer. “No. I’m fine. The heat, and needing a drink, that was all it was. But thank you.”
Adrian answered with a hard nod, before swinging around on his heel, stomping his way back to the farmhouse.
Luca drove out and made his way along the rough track. He’d make the deal and then pass everything over to Rhonda to manage. With any luck he’d not have to have any further dealings with Adrian Hardy.
CHAPTERSIX
“Morning Boss.”
Adrian looked up from feeding the chickens in their enclosed patch of field, and grunted in Harry’s direction.
He’d had another fitful night’s sleep, thanks to the whisky he’d knocked back. He could handle the hangover, it was the twisted, confused dreams he’d been having for the past few nights, unsettling him in a way he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, define. With more force than he’d meant, he threw down another handful of feed, sending the chickens running, their squawks loud and indignant.
Slumping against the fence, he closed his eyes. Vivid dreams, which woke him in a sweat and with his heart racing, all of which featured a man with dark blond hair, his features indistinct, all except for his full lipped smile which he turned on him before dropping to his knees, and?—
“For Christ’s sake.”
Frustration, that’s all it was, his subconscious telling him he needed to get up close and personal with more than his hand. A night away, somewhere he wasn’t known, where he could lose himself, and work off the scorching need that was consuming him. He wrinkled his nose. It might be what his body demanded, but the idea was ice in his stomach. Running a hand down his face, he sucked in a long, hard breath. A busy day lay ahead, just like every day, that was what he needed to think about rather than wasting his time attempting to psychoanalyse himself.
But why pretend?
His ordered, fixed, rigid world felt like it was spinning too fast, leaving him dizzy and breathless. And he knew why. Just as he knew why he’d awoken with the king of all hard ons which had detonated from the lightest brush of his hand making him cry out as he’d spilled over his stomach. His breath hitched and his heart jumped in his chest as a shiver raced down his spine. Wiping the back of his hand across his brow, his skin was hotter and clammier than it had any right to be in the cool morning air.
Scooping up another handful of feed, his hand stilled as he let it fall through his fingers. Staring out over his land, his gaze landed on the track which snaked towards the road which led to Love’s Harbour and, just beyond, The New House Spa Hotel. And Luca Graham.
The hotelier had come back to him, accepting his price. The conversation had been short and businesslike, quickly concluded. Luca had ended the call first, leaving him staring at the receiver still clutched in his hand, the sound of the dialling tone loud in the quiet of the farmhouse. Contracts had been drawn up, marking the beginning of their business relationship. He’d already made some deliveries, each time meeting not Luca but Rhonda. Not, of course, that he’d been looking out for him. Just as he hadn’t been looking out for him when he’d gone to The Fisherman’s Arms for a pint, after so long keeping away, prompting surprised yet welcoming smiles from both Eva and Ryan. Each time he’d parked, he’d not been boxed in.
“Looks like you can do with this.”
Adrian jumped and swung around as Harry appeared holding two mugs. Adrian mumbled his thanks as he took one.
“So you took my advice, then.” Harry slurped his tea and hummed his delight.
“What do you mean?”
“Getting out more. You went to pie night, I saw you there but you didn’t see me. And you’re becoming a regular at the pub.”
“I’ve been in the odd time or two. That doesn’t make me a regular.”
“Eva’s introducing another new variety — chicken and chorizo. She put a suggestion box on the bar. I’ve already put my order in.” Harry beamed, the thought of food as always making his already ever bright mood almost blinding. “See you there on Friday?”
“No. I don’t think I’ll be going again.”
“And why’s that?”
Because it’s not a good idea to chance running into Luca Graham again.Even if it was the reason he’d become an irregular regular at the pub. “Not my kind of thing. And it was too busy.”
