Hot Pursuit by Lisette Ashton Page A

resisted the urge to glance back over her shoulder and plundered bravely on. Even though Lucy had explained the specific details of what she was expected to do, Anne found herself dwelling on only one key phrase. While enjoying thesweetness of Lucy’s whispered words against her ear she had listened to a detailed breakdown of the torrid behaviour that was expected from her. Lucy had stressed that it was vital the guard be encouraged to move away from the door and kept away for long enough to allow her to gain entry to the hall. And, on a subconscious level, Anne had heard and understood all those instructions. But the phrase that stayed in her mind was Lucy’s sultry use of the word
wetplay
.
    Wetplay . . . wetplay . . . wetplay
. . . Its constant echo overshadowed every other thought and resounded through her mind with every step.
Wetplay . . . wetplay . . . wetplay
. . .
    â€˜This is private property,’ the guard intoned solemnly.
    He was tall, dark-haired and imposing in his uniform.
    Anne thought his square jaw could have looked manly and attractive under other circumstances but, set in the shade of his angular peaked cap, he appeared sinister and unapproachable. She tested him with her most disarming smile and knew he remained singularly unimpressed. ‘I figured it was private property. I think I’m a little lost.’
    The threat of thunderclouds lurked above them, turning the sky slate and giving the shadows a sharper edge. The polished windows on the imposing building were black glass and stared down at her like blind, uncaring eyes. Anne’s doubts threatened to make her turn around and run but she cautioned herself she was doing this for her new friend and didn’t want to disappoint Lucy. Her reservations remained high and incessant. Her stomach was an agony of doubt, excitement and too much daring, but she valiantly held her ground as she tried to win a smile from the guard.
    He contemplated her sternly. ‘Head back the way you came,’ he said, pointing officiously. ‘Stay on the roads and you’ll come across signs soon enough. Wherever you’re looking for it’s bound to be signposted.’
    â€˜That doesn’t help me with my immediate problem,’ she told him.
    His frown deepened and she was chilled by a swift rush of dread. If Lucy was wrong, or if her new friend’s ability had somehow failed her on this occasion, Anne could see that she wouldn’t be able to distract the guard.
    â€˜Head back the way you came,’ he said again. He was raising his voice, as though she might have misheard him. ‘And, if you stay . . .’
    â€˜I need to pee,’ Anne said quickly. Blushing after saying the words, and demurely lowering her gaze, she studied him through the flutter of her upper lashes. She crossed her legs to make the act look convincing and pressed the heel of her palm against her crotch. ‘I’ll go back the way you told me,’ she promised. ‘And I’ll apologise now for trespassing, or whatever law it is I’m breaking, but you have to point me in the direction of a loo.’
    His dark eyes gleamed.
    If she hadn’t been expecting the reaction – if Lucy hadn’t warned her to watch out for the response – Anne knew she would have missed the avid sparkle in his expression. But, because she had been told how the scene would develop, she wasn’t surprised by the predatory glint in his eye. Immediately he tore his gaze from hers, shook his head, and assumed his gruffhess like a protective cloak. Glancing at the door to the baronial hall he faltered apologetically and said, ‘I couldn’t let you use the facilities inside. It’s more than my job’s worth.’
    Anne nodded and lowered her gaze again. Lucy had predicted he would use that exact phrase and, on hearing the words, Anne felt as though her new friend was by her side. It was a comforting idea and brought with it the warm