“Anastacia Harper, the top model,” both women giddily exclaimed in unison and laughed at each other.
Matt turned to Mrs Henderson. The woman had been the housekeeper at Melville since before he was born and liked to think of herself as his second mother. She was just as important to him.
“You know who this woman is?” raising his eyebrow at her.
“Of course sweetie, who doesn’t?” she responded, before turning back to the Aga and busying herself seasoning her stew. “Well, apart from you,” she called back over her shoulder.
Pip mumbled around the rest of the Smarties she was munching her way through, “Honestly Matt, you need to get your head out from those horses’ butts and keep up to date with what’s going on in the world. Here, catch.” Pip threw him the fashion magazine perched on the kitchen table. “I tried to talk to you about it a couple of weeks ago but you and Henry were in with the horses so I made an executive decision.”
“Pip, I hardly think that keeping up with fashion and the celebrity gossip can be classed as—”
Matt caught sight of a tumbling waterfall of vibrant red wavy hair framing a stunning pale oval face with a smattering of cute freckles on a pert nose,, vivid eyes as green as the fir trees in the forest surrounding Melville staring straight at him from the page of the magazine. A detached but beautifully refined look on the temptress’s face. It was a heady combination. He swallowed and paused for breath, acknowledging that perhaps he should pay more attention to the celebrity news.
He allowed his eyes to trace further down the page and acknowledge the rest of the photograph. It was obvious that this woman was not the traditional stick thin model usually favoured. No, this photograph showed off an hourglass figure through the black evening dress. She definitely had curves in all the right places, reminiscent of a Hollywood starlet from the 1950’s. Curves a man could no doubt spend hours worshipping and wow, that hair. He tentatively touched the page, running his fingers over her shoulders, imagining what it would feel like to run his hands through that hair and then grab a fist-full at the nape of her neck, forcing her to look up into his eyes, before seeking the comfort of her lips. He would later try to convince himself that the action had been entirely subconscious, but it was an argument even he wasn’t claiming to win. What it would feel like to make this woman lose control and scream out in ecstasy? He felt a long-forgotten stirring in his groin and quickly slammed the door to that emotional rollercoaster firmly shut. Getting involved or even interested in another woman was so not in his plan, but perhaps he did need to start thinking about satisfying his more basic needs, which had apparently decided to come out of hibernation, stretch languidly, and show interest in a certain Jessica Rabbit like redhead.
He suddenly became conscious of the fact he’d been staring at the page for a while and quickly cleared his throat and nonchalantly dropped the magazine back on the kitchen table. Christ, he hoped neither of them had seen him trailing his finger over the magazine. He hadn’t had such a reaction to a woman in a magazine since his father had given him some interesting reading in his mid-teens…and he was embarrassed now by his reaction. In his defence, he decided that the photo was most likely cleverly edited as was the norm nowadays. No-one would look that good in real life.
“Besides,” Pip continued, seemingly unaware of his peculiar interest in the magazine, “it will be exciting for the village and excellent PR for the Stud and your children’s charity. Things could do with being shaken up around here, don’t you agree Mrs H? You need to come out of that hibernation or whatever it is you’ve been in since what happened with Emily I—”
Matt’s head shot up and Pip cut herself off at the no doubt thunderous scowl on his face. “Don’t ever mention her name in this house again Pip,” he growled at her, but he winced inwardly as he saw his sister flinch and it angered him even more that that woman still had the power over him to warrant that reaction.
Thankfully Mrs Henderson swept away the lingering tension.
“Oh yes dear. I was telling Beatrice and Phyllis at the shops the other day all about it and you know how they like to spread the news. The whole village knows about it by now. Maybe that designer chap would donate something for us to raffle off at the charity ball on Saturday night.”
Matt choked, spitting out the last gulp of water he had just taken to quell his burning tongue. “What do you mean? How long are they going to be here!?” he gasped, still coughing up his lungs.
Mrs Henderson slapped him on the back and mopped at him with a towel whilst tutting something about his manners. He wasn’t listening.
“Erm well,” Pip stuttered, casting her eyes down to her computer. “They said that they needed to stay for a couple of days, you know to, erm, make sure that they get all the photos they need and go out on location around the grounds, and it was all dependent on the light and weather and what not, I wasn’t really listening, so I, you know, said that they could all stay at the house overnight. It’s not as though we haven’t got the rooms,” she rushed nervously.
“Here, taste again,” said Mrs Henderson, bringing a spoon filled with her stew up to his mouth. “Better?”
Matt sipped at the spoon. “Hmm, yeah, that’s delicious.” he agreed, handing the spoon back and turning his attention to Pip, crossing his arms over his chest, but bringing one to rub at sore eyes; gritty from lack of sleep.
“You do remember that Jumal will be here any day. His foal is due in the next couple of days’. What the hell is he going to think is going on with a fashion designer and his posse running wild at the house?” He dropped his hand back to his chest and let out a sharp breath before continuing. “We’re the most prestigious Stud farm in England and he’s going to think he’s landed at some sort of celebrity house party. I know he’s a mate but he’s still a bloody Sheik, Pip. I just can’t believe—!” He shook his head and rubbed at his temples to try to stave off the headache which was developing at a fast pace.
“Jumal is coming? When? Why didn’t you say?” Pip asked anxiously.’
Matt smirked at her. “Oops, I must have forgotten to mention it. Not nice, is it?” he tormented, raising a brow.
“Ha bloody ha. Anyway, stop stressing Matt, Alix and Anastacia will have left before Jumal arrives to view his baby horse.”
“Foal, Pip, it’s called a foal, not a baby horse,” he said, shaking his head again in exasperation.
“Anyway, you need to get her from the airport because she lands in just under an hour, and take that picture with you so you recognise her”.
Matt didn’t think he could forget that face. She’d be the one surrounded by a group of suck-ups dangling on her every word while she pouted and posed for pictures, no doubt flicking that wild hair around her shoulders as she soaked up all the adoration. He briefly pondered whether this model would be the stereotypical spirited redhead with fire in her belly…? His brain finally decided to re-engage and take control over his wandering thoughts.
“What? Why?” His attempt to grab a freshly baked shortbread biscuit from the table was foiled by Mrs Henderson as she smacked his hand away.
“You’ll spoil your tea.” The woman was as swift as a ninja, quicker than his judo instructor!
He pointed at Pip. “But she’s just worked her way through a whole tube of sweets!”
She tutted at him. “Now, now Matt, you’re not a child, although you are as grumpy as a teething toddler at the moment.”
He scowled at Pip as she stuck her tongue at him ’before she continued. “Well I told them that we’d collect her from the airport and as head of our family it should be