her up. 'Now you can get dressed. Don’t rub that off, I want you to be reminded what happens to girls who don’t do what they are told.'
If the look she shot him was any indication, Summer no longer harboured any romantic feelings for him now.
Flynn stifled a pang of regret. He couldn’t have her and there was no point in wishing for the impossible. He pulled on his own clothes. It was evening. They had been gone for hours. It was time to get back to real life.
Afterwards she stood and he helped her to dress. Her trembling fingers couldn’t manage her bra, so he tucked it into his pocket. The rough fabric of the jumpsuit chaffed her tender flesh as they walked the path back to the camp. As they neared the village, singing drifted on the air. 'You’ll never beat the Irish .' Reilly’s voice accompanied by a baritone she recognised as Andy’s. The song was followed by raucous teasing and Fletcher broke into another song.'We’ll be going home tomorrow.' Flynn said.
Home. Instead of the London mansion, a vision of the croft popped into her head and she smiled. At least they would have a proper bed and she would …
'Where the hell have you pair been?'
Summer never would have believed that such a big man could move so silently, but Niall had appeared in front of them like a ghost on the path. She darted a look to Flynn, but his face remained expressionless.
This was her opportunity, the chance she had been waiting for. One word from her about their exploits this afternoon and Flynn would be off the job. That was what she wanted. Wasn’t it? She could be back with her friends. Shopping, maybe going to dinner in the latest fashionable restaurant. So why couldn’t she say it? She couldn’t actually want to stay with Flynn, could she? That would be madness.
Niall waited for her answer.
'We were…' she cleared her throat. 'We were swimming,' she announced with more confidence than she felt. 'The facilities here are disgraceful. How on earth do you expect me to do without a bath for more than a day?'
'And this uniform chaffs my skin,' she threw in for good measure. Summer brushed past Niall and strode ahead of them.
'I’m glad she’s your client,' she heard Niall mutter to Flynn. 'That little madam needs her arse tanned.'
Summer stifled a giggle. The heat in her arse was already blooming and she doubted if she would be able to sit down for dinner. 'Flynn,' she shouted over her shoulder. 'I’m hungry. Fetch me something to eat.'
Tucking her sleeping bag under her arm, she hurried down the path ahead of them, without waiting for the inevitable explosion.
By the time Flynn arrived, she was in her sleeping bag. She sat up eagerly when he arrived. She really was hungry. She grabbed the bottle of water and drank deeply before biting into a slab of roast meat tucked into a crusty bread roll. It was the best thing she had ever tasted and she devoured it quickly.
Flynn cleared his throat. 'Summer—'
'Don’t,' she said.
She knew what was coming. Flynn would apologise, say it was heat of the moment, it wasn’t serious, nothing to get worked up about. Well, she wasn’t going to sit here and let him tell her it had been a mistake.
'I hope you are not going to get all serious and intense on me, Flynn. It was fun, but that’s all it was. Fun. I mean, you’re great in the sack, I’ll give you that, but—'
'What?' He looked so shocked that she was tempted to laugh, except that her heart was trying to choke her. 'I’m great in the sack?'
'Oh sure. At least a nine out of ten. Well,' she paused. 'Maybe an eight. You ruined my bra. In fact, I’m not sure that doesn’t mark you down to a seven.'
She giggled at the expression on his face. He wouldn’t have been more stunned if she had sprouted horns and a tail. 'You little—' He stopped and sobered. 'Summer, I need to know—'
She wasn’t going to have the whole post-mortem where she listened to his excuses. 'Don’t make more of it than it is.
If the look she shot him was any indication, Summer no longer harboured any romantic feelings for him now.
Flynn stifled a pang of regret. He couldn’t have her and there was no point in wishing for the impossible. He pulled on his own clothes. It was evening. They had been gone for hours. It was time to get back to real life.
Afterwards she stood and he helped her to dress. Her trembling fingers couldn’t manage her bra, so he tucked it into his pocket. The rough fabric of the jumpsuit chaffed her tender flesh as they walked the path back to the camp. As they neared the village, singing drifted on the air. 'You’ll never beat the Irish .' Reilly’s voice accompanied by a baritone she recognised as Andy’s. The song was followed by raucous teasing and Fletcher broke into another song.'We’ll be going home tomorrow.' Flynn said.
Home. Instead of the London mansion, a vision of the croft popped into her head and she smiled. At least they would have a proper bed and she would …
'Where the hell have you pair been?'
Summer never would have believed that such a big man could move so silently, but Niall had appeared in front of them like a ghost on the path. She darted a look to Flynn, but his face remained expressionless.
This was her opportunity, the chance she had been waiting for. One word from her about their exploits this afternoon and Flynn would be off the job. That was what she wanted. Wasn’t it? She could be back with her friends. Shopping, maybe going to dinner in the latest fashionable restaurant. So why couldn’t she say it? She couldn’t actually want to stay with Flynn, could she? That would be madness.
Niall waited for her answer.
'We were…' she cleared her throat. 'We were swimming,' she announced with more confidence than she felt. 'The facilities here are disgraceful. How on earth do you expect me to do without a bath for more than a day?'
'And this uniform chaffs my skin,' she threw in for good measure. Summer brushed past Niall and strode ahead of them.
'I’m glad she’s your client,' she heard Niall mutter to Flynn. 'That little madam needs her arse tanned.'
Summer stifled a giggle. The heat in her arse was already blooming and she doubted if she would be able to sit down for dinner. 'Flynn,' she shouted over her shoulder. 'I’m hungry. Fetch me something to eat.'
Tucking her sleeping bag under her arm, she hurried down the path ahead of them, without waiting for the inevitable explosion.
By the time Flynn arrived, she was in her sleeping bag. She sat up eagerly when he arrived. She really was hungry. She grabbed the bottle of water and drank deeply before biting into a slab of roast meat tucked into a crusty bread roll. It was the best thing she had ever tasted and she devoured it quickly.
Flynn cleared his throat. 'Summer—'
'Don’t,' she said.
She knew what was coming. Flynn would apologise, say it was heat of the moment, it wasn’t serious, nothing to get worked up about. Well, she wasn’t going to sit here and let him tell her it had been a mistake.
'I hope you are not going to get all serious and intense on me, Flynn. It was fun, but that’s all it was. Fun. I mean, you’re great in the sack, I’ll give you that, but—'
'What?' He looked so shocked that she was tempted to laugh, except that her heart was trying to choke her. 'I’m great in the sack?'
'Oh sure. At least a nine out of ten. Well,' she paused. 'Maybe an eight. You ruined my bra. In fact, I’m not sure that doesn’t mark you down to a seven.'
She giggled at the expression on his face. He wouldn’t have been more stunned if she had sprouted horns and a tail. 'You little—' He stopped and sobered. 'Summer, I need to know—'
She wasn’t going to have the whole post-mortem where she listened to his excuses. 'Don’t make more of it than it is.
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