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As soon as he had left Harriet, Rafael crossed the yard to warn Davis not to let Harriet out of his sight until his own security men were in place to watch over her. He called the head of his protection team, discussed events so far, with particular reference to his suspicion that the same malicious party had unbolted the gate and let out the horses the other night. He pointed out the need for discretion in Harriet’s vicinity because he did not want her to be alarmed. He also organised extra security men to cover the gymkhana. At that point he drove down to the cottage and was just in time to catch Boyce before he went out. Some time later the two men parted, in full agreement on how to deal with the situation; Boyce’s opinion of Rafael had rocketed…
*
Harriet’s first surprise of the day took place when Boyce got out of bed at the crack of dawn and insisted on accompanying her. She was even more taken aback when he took the broom she lifted out of her hand and told her that he would make himself useful sweeping the yard into a state of perfect presentation.
A gorgeous arrangement of flowers awaited her in the tiny office. The card prominently displayed bore Rafael’s distinctive signature, and she found herself smiling from ear to ear. After yesterday’s unpleasant delivery, the bouquet was a happy thought on his part and she could not stop thinking about him. He hadn’t said sorry but then she hadn’t said as much as she should have done to excuse the hideous insult of her having addressed him by Luke’s name. Over all, she decided ruefully, the odds were fairly even between them. If he had called her Bianca, and followed the off
ence up by taking in a fanciable house guest, she would have been equally suspicious and quick to cut her losses. Nor, after Luke’s behaviour, would she have been eager to risk her pride in confrontation and a demand for an explanation.
Rafael called her on her mobile phone while she was helping to check the course for the obstacle race.
‘I love the flowers!’ she exclaimed, the instant she recognised his dark drawl, and then she winced at her own lack of cool.
‘I hoped you would. I’ve organised some helpers for you.’
‘Oh, that’s not necessary,’ she hastened to tell him.
‘Just occasionally you may wish to recall that I’m your partner,’ Rafael murmured lazily. ‘It’s the holiday season and the sun is shining. You’ve publicised the gymkhana far and wide. The event is likely to be well attended.’
‘I certainly hope so.’
‘Large crowds require supervision and facilities. My staff have put some extra arrangements in place to cover all contingencies. You need do nothing but accept the discreet assistance of the expert event organisers I employ.’
‘My goodness! Perhaps I gave you the wrong impression, but this is a very small meeting…I’ll be lucky to scrape together a couple of hundred people! Are you planning to put in an appearance?’
‘Yes.’
Two young women presented themselves soon after that call, and were followed by several well-built men. Soon the first keen competitive parent arrived, complete with trailer and child. When two horseboxes pulled up within minutes Harriet was very grateful when one of the men offered to take charge of the parking area and ensure that the access lanes were kept clear. It was not very long before she began to see that she had underestimated the potential appeal of a country day out; even though it was still early there was a regular flow of traffic. A garda car containing two uniformed officers had taken up position as well.
A queue had already formed in the tack shop. Boyce was manning the counter, doling out change and wrapping curry brushes.
‘You know, you could make a bomb as one of them lookalikes,’ an admiring teenage girl was telling him. ‘You’re the picture of that Boyce Taylor from 4Some. You’re a lot smaller than he is, though.’
‘Oh, well…can’t have everything.’ Boyce was hamming it up for all he was worth.
‘I don’t think you’re half as cute as that guy in 4Some,’ Harriet interposed deadpan, as she stepped in to take his place.
Her brother’s eyes danced with merriment. ‘Thanks a bundle.’
Mid-morning she went to watch the dressage competition in the paddock. She loved seeing the earnest children perform on their fat, well-groomed ponies. Fergal joined her, helpfully identifying the local kids and their parents for her benefit.
‘When I found out Boyce was your brother I decided not to tell Una that he was that singer,’ he shared rather abruptly. ‘She knows you’re related now, but I’m sure you’ve been wondering why I didn’t put her right straight away.’
Until that point Harriet had not been aware that Una was still in the dark about anything, and she turned to study Fergal with dawning comprehension. ‘Are you saying that you’ve known all along who Boyce really is?’
‘Harriet…he’s freakin’ famous! But he’s entitled to privacy if he wants it. Una would have been demanding his autograph and flirting like mad with him. I thought it was better that she didn’t come round while he was staying. Not that I wouldn’t have trusted him—or her.’
Ruddy self-conscious colour lay over his cheekbones and Harriet took pity on him, because she was amused by the extent of his protectiveness towards the younger woman. ‘But you thought it was better not to take the risk. Who else knows Boyce is the lead singer of 4Some?’
‘A good number.’ Fergal grinned. ‘He’s pure magic on that flute. Sure, anyone watching him would guess he was a professional and a star.’
Harriet looked past him to where Rafael’s customised and very distinctive Range Rover had purred to a halt. Her every nerve-ending sizzled into life and she left Fergal to head in that direction. But when she saw the gorgeous woman who had climbed out of Rafael’s car it was like someone had closed a cruel hand round her windpipe. Unfortunately he had noticed her approach, and it was too late to practise avoidance tactics.
Exuding class and sleek good looks in his country casuals, Rafael glanced at the crowds milling round the field and remarked to Harriet, ‘Give yourself a pat on the back. You must be a whiz at PR.’
‘And you were right. I was wrong. We’re being mobbed.’
Big brown eyes sparkling, the brunette flicked back her long black hair from her exquisite face and treated Harriet to an engaging smile. ‘Hi…I’m Frankie.’
