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  “Maybe half an hour. No more. I came straight here.”

  He turned to look at her over his shoulder. “You ran into him?”

  She nodded, then lowered her gaze from his. “It was an accident. I didn’t see him until…”

  Daniel watched in wonder, his cock now solidifying in his jeans. That look, the way she averted her eyes. Her whole fucking demeanor was pure submissive. He was certain she had no idea she was doing it, but the Dom in him was leaping to attention. She might as well have ‘Spank me, then fuck me. Please’ emblazoned across her forehead in green neon. He’d love to oblige.

  Not a good idea. At least, not yet.

  Giving himself a mental shake, Daniel straightened and reached for his bag which he’d dumped on the ground beside the car. He pulled out his stethoscope, then checked the badger’s breathing to confirm his original assessment. Finally he glanced at each of the four paws in turn before announcing his conclusion

  “Right. Typical five point landing, a common injury in animals involved in road traffic accidents. All four paws scraped, and the nose too, from landing hard on the tarmac. The shock of the impact often causes the diaphragm to rupture, and the lungs to collapse, which is what we have here.”

  “Poor Bryan. Can you help him?”

  “Bryan?” He turned to look at her again.

  Same response as before, she met his eyes then dropped her gaze before answering. “I sort of started to think of him as Bryan. It’s a nice name, for a badger.”

  Daniel shrugged. “I suppose so. What’s your name, Miss…?”

  “Jones. Summer Jones. Can you do anything for him?”

  She was starting to wring her hands, clearly agitated, and he thought she might be about to cry. Tears didn’t bother him unduly, whether in a client or a submissive. In either case it was good to express emotions.

  “He needs a chest drain. I can do that inside, in our hospital. Problem is it usually takes two people and the rest of the staff have left. Still, I daresay I’ll manage.”

  “Will he be all right then? After you’ve done that?”

  Daniel spared the woman a reassuring smile. The badger was in a bad way, in his professional opinion, but not beyond hope. “It’ll definitely improve matters. A lot. Then we’ll need X-rays to know if there’s anything else broken. Stabilizing the breathing is the priority now though. I’ll carry him inside, if you wouldn’t mind bringing my bag, please.”

  “What if he bites you?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time a patient has failed to properly appreciate my efforts. An occupational hazard, sadly.” Daniel looked again at the badger, still deeply unconscious. “I doubt I’m in much danger from this guy, even if he does come round. I don’t want to sedate him in this condition, his breathing might just stop altogether. I’ll have to risk it.”

  “Oh, right. Of course. And, maybe I could help. If there’s no one else I mean. I feel responsible.”

  “Do you have veterinary training, Miss Jones?” Daniel tossed the question over his shoulder as he reached into the back of the car to haul the badger into his arms.

  “No, but I could…”

  He grinned as the delectable Miss Jones’ words again died away. Standing now, with the badger securely cradled in his arms, he leveled a brilliant smile at her. “Can you follow instructions, Miss Jones?”

  “Yes. Of course. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

  Oh, baby, if you only knew the half of what I’d like to instruct you to do.

  Daniel merely nodded, then set off across the car park in the direction of the pedestrian gate, which he’d left still standing open. His grin widened as he listened to the sounds of the car doors closing, the clunk of the locking mechanism and the brisk tap of Miss Jones’ dainty feet following him across the asphalt.

  Daniel was huffing a bit himself by the time he’d carted the dead weight of the badger the five minutes’ walk to the zoo’s compact veterinary hospital. The place might be small, but it was well-equipped. He had a range of modern equipment at his disposal so he had no doubt that, provided the badger had no further significant injuries, the chances of recovery were fairly good. It was hard to tell, though, especially with wild animals. They rarely responded well to human contact and could deteriorate rapidly. He needed to get that chest drain in. Fast.

  Daniel was conscious of the lighter footsteps following him into the hospital, but his attention was, for now, focused on the injured animal. He deposited the badger on the steel examination table and unwrapped the blanket covering it. The creature’s breathing was, if anything, even more shallow, coming in short bursts, then stopping for a few seconds, before the animal dragged in the next rasping breath.

  Time was of the essence now. Daniel collected the apparatus he needed from a cupboard on the wall. He handed Summer a length of transparent plastic tubing.

  “Keep that handy and stand beside me. I’ll tell you what to do.”

  “Yes, sir. Of course. Her voice was low, a soft whisper as she answered him.

  Where the Hell did that come from? The woman at the gate may have called the vet sir on the phone, but he has no authority over me.

  I try to concentrate on the drama in front of me, as Daniel Riche attempts to save my badger’s life. This locum vet might be handsome as sin with his dark, short hair, athletic build, sexy dark brown eyes, but that’s no reason at all to get silly. He’s just a man. Admittedly he’s kind, and seems to be good at his job. But he’s a man, and I don’t trust them. I don’t trust any of them

  Nevertheless, I find myself standing silently, obediently. My eyes are riveted on Daniel Riche’s hands as he probes Bryan’s heaving chest. I wait for the next instruction he might hurl my way. I flinch as he makes a swift incision with a scalpel.

  “Summer. Listen to me I need you to push the end of that tube into the hole I just made. Do it now, please.” His tone is low, even, laced with steel.

  My stomach lurches at the thought of what he’s asking me to do, but it never occurs to me to disobey or to delay. I step forward and place the end of the tube as directed.

  “Push it in. You’ll need to be firm.”

  I do as I’m told. No fuss, no questions, I just do it. As soon as the tube is in place Daniel releases the clamp he was using to hold the incision open and does something with the protruding end. He directs it downwards, and as if by magic a sudden gush of slightly blood-stained, straw-colored liquid pours from the tube into a bucket below the table.

  The effect on Bryan is more or less instantaneous. His breathing slows, steadies. The awful rasping noise just stops as his lungs re-inflate, and at last he is able to draw in the precious oxygen he needs.

  I look at Mr Riche and smile. He smiles back at me, the expression lighting up the room.

  “Nice work, Miss Jones.”

  “I— Thank you. And I’m sure Bryan’s grateful too.

  “Maybe. I guess we’ll never know.” He walks over to the sink and washes his hands.

  I’m not sure if I should do the same.

  “Will Bryan, I mean, the badger…will he be all right now?”

  “His chances just improved by about five hundred percent. Tomorrow I’ll X-ray him and see if there’s any more damage we need to fix. If not, though, we’ll just hang on to him for a couple of days to keep an eye on him, make sure that lung isn’t going to collapse again, then let him go. Badgers are territorial creatures so if you could tell me exactly where you picked him up I’ll try to get him back to the same place.”

  “It was on the road from Kirkby, heading toward Ulverston.” I pause, then ask the question that’s been bothering me. “Will he know what happened to him?”

  Daniel Roche glances sharply at me. “I shouldn’t think so. Why?”

  “It’s just, I feel so guilty. So responsible. Poor Bryan, I almost killed him.”

  Daniel quirks one eyebrow. The expression is compelling. And stern. “Were you speeding?”

  “No. I never do.�
�� I writhe in self-conscious defensiveness. I hate that he might think that of me.

  “Driving dangerously then? Not paying attention?”

  “Of course not.”

  “So, why should you feel guilty? You did nothing wrong. Quite the opposite. Badgers have no road sense, they often run in front of cars. You saved his life by bringing him here. He would have died within an hour or so if you’d left him at the roadside.”

  For some reason I can’t quite put my finger on, his approval, his absolution matters to me. I should just leave it at that. I have no idea why I don’t.

  “It was my fault. Maybe if I—”

  Daniel Riche halts my flow of words by simply lifting his hand. The gesture is autocratic, commanding and totally effective.

  “And maybe if I move Bryan to one of our recovery pens and wipe down the table, perhaps then I could lay you across it, lift that sexy little skirt and spank your bottom. Would that make you feel better?”

  I gape at him, incredulous. Did I just hear him correctly? “What? What did you say?”

  Daniel Riche looks at me, the expression on his devilishly handsome face quite neutral. “You heard. Would it help you to forgive yourself if I were to punish you? A good, hard, bare-bottom spanking usually does the trick. I’d be delighted to oblige.”

  Even as I recoil, horrified, my pussy is spasming. My knickers are wet, for Christ’s sake. How? Why? The very idea is, is…

  Delightfully, deliciously naughty. Wicked beyond imagining and so hot I could melt.

  “You look shocked, Miss Jones. Does the idea not appeal? Or perhaps it does, and that’s why you’re so…uncomfortable.”

  “I, I’m not uncomfortable. It’s just, I never… That’s outrageous!”

  “Is it? Seems like an excellent plan to me.”

  He smiles, and my eyes are drawn to his seductive mouth, the play of his lips, the gleam of his white, even teeth. I start to imagine those teeth trailing over my body, my most sensitive, private places. As if to emphasize the point my nipples swell and harden, my clit throbs. And all the while he lounges by the sink watching, waiting. Knowing.

  “I, I… I need to go.” I turn, start for the door.

  “Wait, I’ll walk you to the gate.”

  “There’s no need.” I grab the door handle and open the door, grateful for the cool autumnal freshness of the outdoors against my flaming cheeks.

  “I think there is. You’ll find you’re locked in. The park’s closed, I’ll need to let you out. First though, we need to make this chap comfortable.”

  I turn back to see Daniel bending over the table, reaching for his stethoscope. I’m ashamed that I momentarily forgot poor Bryan, but Daniel Riche is clearly correct, we need to see to him first. I step back inside and close the door again.

  Daniel’s movements are efficient and practiced as he checks Bryan’s heart, listens to his now much calmer breathing. The squat little legs are starting to move, mimicking the motion of running.

  “He’s coming round. Best to get him into a recovery pen before he’s fully conscious and starts trying to eat us.” Daniel lifts the badger, chest drain still in situ, and gestures with his head toward an empty wire cage on the floor. “Could you open the door for me please?”

  I hasten to do as Daniel has asked as the badger starts to wriggle clumsily, though his eyes remain closed. Daniel quickly transfers the creature to the relative safety of the recovery cage, before fastening the latch on the door.

  “There, that should hold him until I get back from seeing you out.”

  Bryan opens his eyes, and I’m immediately struck by how bright they are, small and black and very much alive. The badger regards us balefully through the wire of his small enclosure. I silently wish him well as I turn once more to leave.

  Daniel follows me outside, then turns to lock the hospital door behind us. I start to march up the wide drive. In moments he’s beside me.

  “I apologize, Miss Jones.”

  “Why? What for?”

  “For upsetting you. I pushed too hard, too fast.”

  “Is that what you call it? You were threatening me?”

  “I didn’t threaten, I offered. But I appreciate you may find that a moot point right now. Could we start over?”

  “I really don’t think…”

  “Dinner. Would you have dinner with me, Miss Jones?”

  “What?” I realize I’m sounding particularly dim-witted, but this was the last thing I expected him to say. “You want me to go to dinner with you? Now?”

  “No, not now unfortunately. I’m on duty here all night. How about tomorrow? Or later in the week?”

  We’re almost at the outer gate now. I stop, turn to face him. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  “Can’t, Miss Jones? Why can’t you? Another boyfriend perhaps?”

  “What? No, of course not.” Another boyfriend? Any boyfriend at all would be laughable. “I just—don’t. That’s all.”

  We’re at the gate, but he makes no move to retrieve the key from his pocket. Somehow he’s maneuvered me into a position where the fence is behind me and he’s in front. I’m trapped. I start to panic, try to dart around him, seeking freedom. Safety. A muscular, solid arm stops me.

  “A moment, please.” He steps forward.

  I edge away, my back now pressed against the fence.

  “Please, let me go, sir.” I’m whimpering, I can’t help it. He’s said nothing even remotely menacing since the quip about spanking me, but still I’m terrified. Something about this man utterly destroys my self-confidence, which is generally fragile at best.

  He cups my chin with his palm, tilts my face up toward his. He’s gentle, unhurried, and for reasons I can’t fathom I feel less afraid when his hands are actually on me. There’s a strength in his touch, a sense of security.

  “Open your eyes, Summer.” Again that compelling timbre, that perfectly modulated voice demanding obedience.

  I didn’t even realize my eyes were tight shut until he spoke. I open them to meet his gaze.

  And I’m lost. His eyes are warm, and so deep I’m drowning. Long moments pass as he bores into me, seeing…something…I never even knew was there. He’s offering me comfort, safety, pleasure and perhaps pain too. His gorgeous face is closer, his hypnotic eyes holding mine. Then he brushes his lips across my forehead. My eyelids droop again as he flutters small kisses across my cheeks, my eyes and finally my mouth.

  His tongue slips between my lips and I let him in. My hands are on his shoulders. I hold on tight, steadying myself as he deepens the kiss. His hands are cradling my head, holding me still. There’s a slight tug as he grabs a fistful of hair at my nape, dislodging the neat barrette I fastened there. He tilts my head back a little farther. It doesn’t hurt, not quite.

  My pussy is wet now, indecently moist. He moves in closer, his chest pressing against my breasts, my nipples now hardened to tight pebbles. His free hand trails across my shoulder and down between our bodies to cup my breast. He squeezes, molds…and the spell breaks.

  What the fuck? What am I doing?

  I push against his chest, hard, twisting my face away from his. Far from seeking to force the issue Daniel lets go of me instantly. His hands are up in a gesture not so much of surrender but one which says ‘I release you, you’re free to leave’. He steps back, allowing me the space I desperately need.

  Confused, flustered, my one overwhelming wish is to get away. To be anywhere, somewhere, as long as I’m away from this man’s disturbing presence. I’m desperate to be alone, to think. But most of all I need to regroup, I need to sort my head out.

  “I have to go. Now. Please. Open the gate. Please.”

  Daniel nods once. “Another time then, Miss Jones. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”

  Moments later the gate is swinging open. I simply run for it. I dash past him, through the gate and sprint across the car park as fast as I can in my impractical heels. I operate Freya’s remote locking system from on the run an
d am able to just fling myself into the BMW. I start the engine and swing on the wheel to turn the car in the direction of the exit. I catch sight of Daniel Riche’s motionless figure, silhouetted in my headlamps, just where I left him inside the perimeter fencing. He may be frowning, though it’s impossible to be sure at this distance.

  He lifts one hand as I pass in a flurry of shale. I don’t wave back.

  Chapter One

  Bristol, 2012

  “Congratulations, Miss Jones. We’d like to offer you the place in the library and archives management training program.”

  The disembodied voice on the other end of the phone pauses for a few seconds. This is just enough time for me to take in the news and return an articulate “Oh!”

  The lady from the Bristol City Council personnel department ignores that and continues with the business in hand. “Are you in a position to know yet whether you will be accepting it, do you think?”

  Wow. I can’t quite believe it. They’re willing to let me be a trainee deputy manager. Me! And give me a pay rise. Not much, and the extra responsibility will more than outweigh the financial gains, but it’s still better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. And this is not about money anyway. Too bloody right I’ll be accepting it. I’ve only worked in the library department for a few months and this is the first time I applied for the training program. Most applicants get turned down the first two or three times, I never expected to be successful so soon. This is me getting my foot well and truly on the career ladder. The only way is up and all that.

  “Yes. Thank you. Yes please, I’d love to be in the training program.” I try to listen carefully as the personnel manager reels off further details and instructions regarding the paperwork I’ll need to complete. She promises to email me the necessary forms. I thank her again and hang up.

  I’m still bouncing along on cloud nine when my mobile trills again. I pull it out of my bag tucked neatly under my desk, expecting another conversation with the Council’s human resources department about my newly elevated position. Instead, I find myself on the wrong end of a nearly incoherent call from my mother, declaring that unless I get my arse back to Barrow immediately to help her out of her current spot of bother, the younger Jones’ will be taken into care—again.