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the stallion. ‘Tolly will ensure that Pluto is brought back to you in a horsebox,’ Rafael Flynn asserted.
    Harriet bit her lip, feeling like a schoolgirl being rebuked for imprudent behaviour. She would dearly have loved to seize hold of Pluto herself and frogmarch him back to his stable. But there were too many barriers to be cleared, and she was too sensible to even consider taking such a risk with a horse too powerful for her to hold. ‘I’m sorry you’ve been inconvenienced.’
    ‘Relax…I would have been gutted had I missed out on those enchanting pyjamas,’ Rafael murmured silkily.
    His heavily lidded dark eyes roamed with unashamed intent over the jutting swell of her ripe breasts and lingered there with wicked appreciation before he directed his attention back up to the wonderfully voluptuous promise of her full-lipped pink mouth. If it had not been for Bianca he would have invited his neighbour to join him for breakfast in bed. At the same time, he knew that with regard to Harriet Carmichael he had to take care of business first. He never, ever allowed anything to deflect him from his goal. And she was in for a rough and rocky passage if she continued to oppose him.
    Wholly unprepared for his comment and appraisal, and interpreting both as derisive amusement, Harriet flung him a look of angry disconcertion. ‘Very funny. Don’t let me keep you!’
    Taken aback by that inept response to a mildly flirtatious comment, Rafael frowned as Bianca chose that inopportune moment to stroll out of the house. ‘The countryside is sublime,’ she sighed, invading his space.
    The statuesque blonde was so beautiful that Harriet simply gaped, only glancing away uncomfortably when she appreciated that the other woman was virtually naked below the silk wrap that she had forgotten to close over. The possessive hand she curved over Rafael Flynn’s arm made Harriet feel equally uncomfortable. Had she been guilty of casting admiring eyes over another woman’s husband?
    ‘Miss Carmichael…’ In a fluster, Harriet focused on the silver haired older man, who had passed custody of Pluto over to a younger man in working clothes. ‘I’m Joseph Tolly. Forty years back our families were neighbours. You have a great look of your mother.’
    A huge smile of surprise and pleasure momentarily banished Harriet’s discomfiture. ‘Honestly? My goodness, you must have known her. I would really love to hear what you remember about those days.’
    ‘You’d be very welcome to visit me this evening,’ the old man told her warmly.
    ‘I’d be delighted. Where do you live?’
    Unaccustomed to being ignored, Rafael watched the exchange of civilities between his usually correct butler and his new neighbour with grim amusement. Bianca was flouncing back and forth like a child threatening a tantrum, because nobody was demonstrating the slightest interest in her either and attention was the oxygen of her existence. With that example before him, Rafael was able to concede that the ability to enjoy a friendly chat whatever the circumstances was inimitably Irish. He could even afford to smile with benevolence at such sentimentality between strangers. Having refused his generous offer to buy her property, his sexy neighbour was about to pay the price for that defiance in what would be a rather less civilised second act. When necessary, Rafael played a long game, and a deep one, and he did not stop playing until success was his.
    Encountering Rafael Flynn’s glinting dark, reflective gaze, Harriet felt chilled. A split second later, discarding that sensation, she recalled that she was still standing on the front lawn of his fabulous Georgian mansion, and mortification threatened to eat her alive. How could she have forgotten for one moment that she was parading around in her pyjamas? Was it any wonder that Rafael Flynn was looking at her as though she had escaped from a zoo?
    ‘Excuse me…’she muttered, turning hurriedly on her heel to trek