‘But—’
‘But nothing,’ Evie interrupted, already moving to open the front door. ‘He won’t hurt me, but I can’t say what he may do to you.’
She was nervous, she was anxious. Harry didn’t like the look of either. And her slender fingers had that open front door in a death grip.
A black Mercedes drove slowly by them.
‘Take the lady’s advice,’ a deep voice dropped smoothly into the tension. ‘She knows what she is talking about…’
They both jumped, both turned, both stared at the man who was now filling the doorway.
CHAPTER SIX
DRESSED entirely in black—black jeans, black tee shirt, soft black leather jacket—he looked mean and he looked dangerous. Evie stared at him and felt her mouth go dry, felt her skin begin to prickle, and felt that terrible sizzle of sexual attraction rush through her blood as it always did when she looked at him.
‘Raschid—’ she began warningly.
He ignored her. His attention was fixed upon poor Harry who was beginning to look a little hot around his shirt collar.
‘Evie needed a lift,’ Harry explained, trying to sound belligerent but only managing to sound defensive.
‘And we thank you for your time and effort,’ Raschid responded politely. ‘But I believe you have a rather valuable mare in need of your personal attention. So we will understand your desire to rush off…’
As a dismissal it just about said it all, but what struck Evie harder was the fact that Raschid knew all about Harry’s pregnant mare.
Maybe he did possess the second sight, she thought a little breathlessly, her eyes locked with unwilling fascination on those narrowed golden eyes of his.
‘Now, just a minute…’ Harry decided to dig his heels in.
Evie flicked her gaze in his direction and almost groaned when she saw the sudden stubborn jut of his chin. Harry might be a shy and self-effacing kind of person, but, like Raschid, he had been born to cherish his own high station.
‘You can’t just—’
‘No, Harry.’ It was Evie who stopped him, Evie who knew that if it came to a hands-on battle Harry would lose out on all counts, and that included his pride. Without thinking what she was doing, she stepped up to him and touched his cheek with gentle fingertips to gain his attention then sent him a sad, apologetic smile. ‘You’ve done enough,’ she told him softly.
‘But he—’
This time Evie stopped the words by placing her lips against his. It startled him enough to render him silent. Behind her she could feel Raschid’s anger reaching out towards her like tentacles that wanted to rip her apart for daring to kiss another man in front of him like this. She ignored the sensation. Ignored the man.
‘I am very grateful for what you’ve done, but it really is best that you leave now. Please, Harry.’ She pleaded with him when she saw the stubbornness still setting his jaw.
Indecision began to cloud his grey eyes. ‘You will be okay?’ he asked, ignoring the way Raschid stiffened at the question.
Evie smiled reassuringly and nodded. ‘I’ll call you,’ she promised as an added incentive. ‘Later on today.’
Another few moments of high-tension silence, then Harry reluctantly gave in. His hands came up to cup Evie’s shoulders, his head lowering so he could place a brief kiss against her mouth, then he was letting her go and with a cold nod of his head in Raschid’s direction he stepped out of the cottage and walked off towards his car.
Evie’s sense of relief was very short-lived. She glanced at Raschid who was looking back at her with narrowed eyes that were not pleasant. Alarm went tingling down her backbone.
‘Very touching,’ he drawled, holding her defiant gaze captive as he stepped into the cottage and closed the door behind him. ‘Little scenes like that force me to wonder if I asked all the wrong questions last night.’
‘I don’t recall you asking any questions,’ Evie replied with tight derision.
‘No?’ As threatening as hell, he took a step towards her, mouth thin, eyes as hard as pebbles. ‘Then allow me to ask this one,’ he requested. ‘Is the baby mine?’
It took several moments for the question to sink in, and even when it did Evie continued to stand there staring at him in stunned disbelief. Then they came—the anger, the sense of personal offence; they swam up from the very depths of her loins to course like fire through her blood.
‘How dare you?’ she breathed in shimmering fury.
‘Answer the question,’ he demanded thinly.
His eyes were glittering, his bared teeth gleaming white between the taut stretch of his lips. Evie stared into those threatening gold eyes, and saw the word traitor blazing from them.