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massage it in. Jack Carstairs groaned slightly and shifted awkwardly.

“Is the oil too hot, sir?”

“No, no…it’s not that,” he muttered, not meeting her gaze.

Kate continued the treatment, explaining softly to Carlos all the time. Her small strong fingers rubbed and pummelled and pushed at the shrunken muscles. Jack lay on the bed, his face a mask of control. Kate alternated small intensive localised movements with long, soothing strokes up and down the whole leg, pulling and pushing with a strong, smooth, rhythmic action. During one of these movements Jack uttered a muffled moan. Kate’s head went up abruptly. This action was meant to be soothing and relaxing, not painful.

“Am I hurting you, sir?”

Jack flushed. “No, no…er. . .don’t you think Carlos can take over now?”

“No, sir, not yet. I thought it would be best if I took him through a complete treatment first. It should take no more than fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“Oh, God!” groaned Jack, and shifted under the sheet again.

“I must be hurting you,” Kate said, distressed. “I am so sorry. This part of the treatment should not hurt at all. Perhaps there is something I have missed. Can you tell me exactly where the pain is located?”

He glared at her for a moment, examining her face for any sign of mischief. She looked back, troubled grey-green eyes innocently meeting his gaze. She really had no idea what her touch was doing to him.

“Dammit! No!” Jack growled crossly. “You’re not hurting me at all. Just get it over with as quickly as possible!” His eyes darted past her, over her shoulder, to where Carlos was standing; Kate felt a spurt of surprise at the withering look Carlos received.

Kate bit her lip. Of course she was hurting him, or why was he moaning? Men were so stubborn at times. She didn’t mind if he cursed or groaned, but she did need to know if the treatment was hurting or not and where. She continued in silence. He was getting tenser and tenser under her hands. It was puzzling. He should be relaxing. She redoubled her efforts, rubbing in the warm, aromatic oils with firm, rhythmical strokes along the length of his leg. Suddenly he groaned again and with a surge of sheets he turned over on to his stomach, sending Kate sprawling on the bed.

She sat up, flustered and astonished. “What on earth do you think you are doing?” she demanded crossly. “Turn over, please; I haven’t finished there yet.”

“Oh, yes, you have, Miss Farleigh,” came the uncompromising reply, slightly muffled by the pillow. “That’s quite enough from you.”

Kate shrugged. “Oh, well, I suppose I can work on the back of the leg as well as the front.” She reached out and began to rub it again.

“Damn and blast it, woman!” The words exploded from the pillow. He jerked his leg away from her and tried to thrust it back under the sheet. “Out, Miss Farleigh, now!”

“But—” Kate began.

“Carlos!”

Kate felt Carlos’s hand on her shoulder. “Please, Senorita Kate,” the man said. “You must go now.”

“But I have not finished showing you everything.”

Carlos grinned. “Oh, senorita, you have shown me plenty, I think.”

“Carlos!” the deep angry voice from the pillow growled warningly.

“At once, Major Jack!” Carlos said hurriedly. His eyes glinting with private amusement, he turned back to Kate again. “It is certain that Major Jack can bear no more of your treatment today. Perhaps another time in the future…”

“Carlos!” There was no mistaking that tone.

“Si, si, Major Jack. Now, senorita, por favor.” He ushered Kate rapidly out of the room and shut the door behind them.

Kate stopped on the landing. “I don’t understand it at all,” she said worriedly. “What I was doing should not have hurt him so much. He’s not the sort of man who would complain of a little pain. His leg must be worse than I thought.”

Carlos grinned down at her wickedly. “It was not his leg which was troubling him, senorita” he said meaningfully.

“What do you mean?”

Carlos shrugged. The English were so prudish about things such as this. She had brazenly entered Major Jack’s bedroom and bared his leg without so much as a blush, so she was no innocent.

“Senorita Kate, it is a long time since the Major has been with a woman, and when you touched him…” He shrugged. “Well, he is a man, after all…”

Kate stared at him a moment, assimilating what he was telling her. Then a fiery blush surged up over her face and she was flooded with embarrassment. “Oh,” she gasped, and fled.

Chapter Nine

For perhaps the twentieth time that evening Carlos glanced towards Kate with foreboding. The little mouse was behaving more like a cat tonight, pacing back and forth, clearly disturbed about something, and from the looks that she was casting towards the ceiling it concerned Major Jack.

Naturally. Carlos sighed gently. If she was touchy and moody, it was nothing to what his master had been. Ever since Major Jack had been unable to disguise his body’s response to her.

Carlos shook his head. It was the simplest matter in the world. These English made such a fuss over things. So the Major was attracted to the little mouse. It would be something to be concerned about if he was not, in Carlos’s opinion, for she had blossomed lately and was looking very pretty. But instead the Major must go to all lengths to avoid her, even having Carlos sneak around heating oils in secret, in case she found out he was continuing the massage treatment without her. Such foolishness.

Kate kicked one of the logs in the fire angrily, releasing a shower of sparks up into the chimney. How could he give up after only one attempt? she asked herself for the hundredth time. She was utterly convinced that massage would improve his leg, possibly even enable him to ride again.

Obviously he didn’t have her faith. But to try it only once and then give up! Merely because he was affected by lust.

That was what was so

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