Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply.

Three days into her stay at Howenstowe Barbara wanted to go home. Foolishly she had agreed to spend the week at Tommy's estate to recover from six weeks of gruelling investigation into the bombing of a Somerset religious sect. The team had endured long hours made worse by the secrecy of the cult's hierarchy who did not want them poking into the affairs of the community. After they had arrested a former member who wanted revenge for the death of his wife in a healing ceremony, they had uncovered a web of conspiracies and suspicious deaths dating back to the 1990s. Tommy had been based in Bristol for nearly a month while she had stayed in London. She had missed him terribly, so his suggestion to get away had been a godsend. Now, he was driving her mad.

Barbara found his proximity difficult. Tommy's mother was away, leaving just the two of them to rattle around in the house. Although she loved the long walks along the cliffs with him and the quiet dinners they shared, it was too cosy. Tommy was far too generous and attentive. He barely left her alone, and when he had estate work to do, he insisted she accompany him. He seemed oblivious to the looks they had received in Nanrunnel. Narrowed eyes had scrutinised her in detail. At every shop, she felt as if she was being interviewed as his prospective countess. In years gone by, she would have laughed it off. Now that was impossible. Every day as he relaxed and shared more of his life beyond the Met with her, Barbara fell deeper in love. Yesterday she had come close to taking his hand as they walked back from the estuary, and had snuggled closely into his side when he had put his arm around her shoulder. It was only a matter of time before she forgot her place and embarrassed them both.

His suggestion of teaching her to ride had seemed like a good idea to distract her. Then she saw the horse. Sleek and dark, the mare seemed sinister. She clearly wanted Barbara out of her master's life, and Barbara feared her intentions were deadly. Typical, Barbara thought, even the bloody female horse wants him to herself.

"Isn't she beautiful? Her name is Gladys." Tommy sounded infatuated, like a twelve-year-old boy looking at a photo of his idol.

"Gladys?"

"It's not her stud name, just her stable name. One of the stable boys named her as a foal. He called her after his grandmother who had just passed away."

"That's sweet." Barbara gave him a quick smile. "She's very black."

"Don't be afraid, Barbara. She's very gentle."

"I'm sure," Barbara replied, utterly unconvinced. When Tommy turned his back, the horse snorted, it's nostrils flaring. Gladys stared at her as she pawed at the ground like a bull about to charge.

Tommy checked that Barbara's helmet was strapped on tightly. "Right, let me help you up." He held her hand and put his hand on her bottom as he assisted her onto the saddle. His face was as red as hers. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Now what? How do you steer?"

"I'll steer. Start by getting a sense of the animal. Focus on how it feels between your legs. Open your hips until you find just the right place where you feel at one with the horse."

Barbara tried to ignore the innuendo, but all she could think about was Tommy's hand resting on her thigh. He was totally unaware of it, or the fact it was burning through her flesh. She wanted to ask him to move it away but really wanted it to move higher. Sighing, she tried to focus.

"Nervous?"

"A bit."

"Don't be. I have..."

Gladys jerked her head violently, pulling the reins from his grip. Mane flying, she bolted across the yard then skidded to a halt by the far fence, flinging Barbara over her head and into the pile of straw and dung that Tommy had swept into the corner of the mounting yard. Barbara sat up. Straw stuck out of her hair, and her jeans were covered in muck. She stank like a sewer. She glared up at the horse. It dipped its head and winked at her. "Why you sack of glue bones!" she shouted as she tried to stand.

"Barbara! Are you all right?" Tommy shooed Gladys away then reached down to help his friend to her feet. He took her right hand, and she squealed in pain. Apologising profusely, he instantly dropped her hand and scooped her up in his arms. His hand pressed into her back, and his other arm was under her knees pulling her against him. Barbara whimpered at the proximity but took a moment to rest her face against his chest. He smelt of pine forests and that bloody horse. She moved her head away.

Tommy lowered her to her feet. "Can you stand?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she snapped, "stop fussing."

"I'm so sorry, Barbara. Gladys is usually very placid."

"Hmmph!" She used her uninjured hand to pull her helmet from her head then shoved it into his chest. "I'm going for a shower."

With her head held as high as she could manage, she stomped back to the house.

"Barbara, it's only me," Tommy said as knocked on her bedroom door.

"We're the only two here. Who else would it be?"

"I brought you some liniment for your hand. May I come in?"

"Yes." She knew from experience that he would only sulk if she said no.

Her boss had changed and showered too. He was in a tee-shirt that was almost too tight. His broad shoulders supported a stronger chest than she remembered and his arms were well-toned. She now knew where he spent his Monday and Thursday mornings, and could not help but wonder what his legs looked like under his dark jeans.

"Show me your arm." It was an order but softly given.

She gingerly extended her arm as he sat beside her on the bed. Damp hair combed back from his face made him look like an Italian model. Barbara had an urge to reach up and ruffle it. Instead, she blushed at the thought. Spending time with him like this was torture.

Tommy let her hand rest on his palm. "Where does it hurt?"

"Wrist mainly."

Using the gentlest of pressure, Tommy felt his way up her hand and around her wrist. She winced once or twice as his thumbs rubbed over her skin. Her face was red and her breathing erratic.

"Am I hurting you?"

Not trusting that she could speak, Barbara shook her head. "Nuh-uh."

He continued to watch her face as his examination continued up her arm to her elbow. He took hold of her upper arm, felt around her joint then rotated it slowly. "I don't think there's anything broken." He picked up his jar. "This smells evil, but it will reduce the swelling."

"Okay."

Tommy opened the liniment jar and scraped out a generous blob of the yellowish cream with his fingers. "This stuff was first made in Nanrunnel in the 1700s. They used to use horse urine, but now we use vinegar instead to create the reaction. It contains several essential oils like wintergreen, peppermint, menthol, juniper, ginger and lavender as well as Epsom salts and all in a base of whipped butter. That's why it smells a bit..."

"Rancid?"

Tommy laughed. "Yes, but it works."

"Can't smell any worse than what that bloody horse threw me in."

"I've never seen her jealous before. You looked so cute with straw sticking out everywhere. If it hadn't been for your hand..."

For a second, as she looked into his soft eyes, she imagined he meant he would have kissed her. Blooded flooded her face. "It had the temerity to wink at me!"

Tommy's face broke into a huge smile. "Maybe she knows more than we think. May I?"

Barbara winced as he put the cream on her palm. He took a dab and began to rub it around her wrist. She watched him concentrating on not hurting her. He looked so serious that she wanted to make a joke to ease the tension, but she could not think of one. Her mind was racing at his words.

He spread more liniment up her arm and around her elbow before rubbing the remainder into her hand. Just when she thought he had finished and she was safe, he took her hand and began to massage it. With his fingers cradling her wrist, he used his thumbs to draw small circles on her palm, gradually increasing in pressure. They began in the centre then grew to cover the edges. Barbara closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.

Tommy slid each of her fingers in turn into his fist, squeezing and releasing them in a pattern that made her shiver. He turned her hand over and made a few broad strokes up to her wrist before finding the soft webbing between her pinkie and ring finger and gliding his thumb up between the bones to the wrist. Barbara moaned softly. Tommy stopped. "Did I hurt you?"

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "No, it's... don't stop." He gave her one of those devilish grins that went straight to her groin. She knew her eyes were betraying her heart, so she forced herself to look away.

His thumbs moved skillfully across her hand, up and down between each line of bones. "Tell me if this hurts."

"It doesn't."

His attention went to her wrist. He started small circles in the middle then moved each thumb outward to the joints while his fingers stroked the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist. Barbara groaned. It hurt but in a glorious way that she never wanted to stop.

"I'm sorry."

"It's helping."

"Good." His thumbs gently swept up and down her arm before he dug one thumb in and pushed it up the centre line. Her nerves burned all the way to her shoulder. She was about to ask him to stop when his fingers began to dance across her skin in long soothing movements.

Tommy's hands stopped moving but still encased hers. "Better?"

"Much, thank you, Sir."

"Tommy. Please call me Tommy."

"Thank you... Tommy."

"No, thank you. Do you know how long I've dreamt of you calling me by name? And it sounded sweeter than I imagined."

His smile lit up the room. Barbara had never seen him look quite so happy. She was mesmerised by the way his dark brown eyes shimmered, reflecting her desires. Was he having the same thoughts? "Tommy?"

"I do."

"What?"

"Want this."

"But..."

"I've wanted this for a very long time." Tommy leant forward. "Tell me you don't feel the same way." Barbara could feel his warm breath brush her cheek. "Tell me I'm wrong thinking that you want us to do this."

"I can't, but..."

Tommy's face was only millimetres from hers. "I'm scared too, Barbara. It seems like it changes everything, but we both know our friendship changed a long time ago."

"Yes."

"So?"

She had always dreamt that if the moment ever came, Tommy would sweep her into his arms and kiss her passionately. Instead, it was her who found his lips. She moved too fast and trapped their lips painfully between their teeth. She pulled away. "Sorry."

Tommy shook his head. "Don't be." He brought up his hand and caressed her face, wiping away an errant tear with his thumb. "I love you, Barbara."

They were simple but powerful words. Barbara's skin tingled as her mind pushed through the last barrier between them. "I love you too, Tommy."

Holding her still, he moved slowly towards her. This time their lips barely brushed, but her body became alive. Tommy kissed her again and again, each time dissolving more of her fear. When she felt brave enough to open to him, he sighed and pulled her into his arms and down onto the bed.