Warning: there is some brief nudity mentioned at the very beginning, otherwise that is it; for anyone who wants to skip the naughty stuff.
A/N: more apologies, due to the usual migraines being persistent...
Part 17
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She was still above him, her pale skin flushed with satisfaction and her eyes shone with love as she looked down on him. At some point the negligee had been peeled from her body and tossed aside, leaving her completely unclothed before his eyes. Unable to resist the gesture, he tenderly stroked his fingers from her hips, up her back, and then onto her face; wanting to caress every inch. "This is the first time I have ever seen you naked in decent lighting," he commented, sounding awestruck.
"Will you ever survive it, or having a soft bed for a change?" she wondered mischievously, adding in her own loving touches to his jaw.
"I miss the back of the Land Rover, obviously," he joked. "Not as much as the barn."
"Who could want to replace all that freezing cold draughtiness or bits of straw jabbing you in places you didn't even know you had," she agreed. "And as for that seat in your office…"
"Exactly!" He grinned impishly at her. "To think I gave all that up for you."
"Are you sure you did?" She leaned down to kiss him.
"I know I gave it up. I could have sworn I'd done it all for you," he giggled as she deliberately tickled him.
They then kissed some more, sensual kisses that promised so much between them. John didn't think he had ever been this happy. All of life's problems seemed to have melted away thanks to the woman in his arms.
Of course it didn't last, and the telephone to the side of them rang loudly; jolting them out of their warm cocoon.
"Who the bloody hell is that?!" he cried out in disgust.
"I'm not answering it," Donna insisted. "You never know who it might be."
Curiosity made him ask, "Why not? It's not going to be the Scream slasher."
The div! "Knowing my luck it'd be your mum. We've already been caught by your dad today."
Sighing deeply, he swung away from her and picked up the receiver. "Hello," he cautiously said into it. "Ricky?!" He then glanced meaningfully at the bedside alarm clock and rubbed a hand down his face. "Is there a problem?"
"Hello, John. No, there's no problem," Roderick smoothly replied. He could hear the breathless tone to his cousin's voice and could easily guess what had caused it. Whether he was pleased about it was a different matter entirely; and if he were truthful with himself, he rather hoped he had halted any amorous tête-a-tête. "Sorry to disturb you and Donna at such a late hour. I do hope you weren't already asleep."
"We weren't asleep," John blurted out, raising his eyebrows in apology at Donna.
'Yes, I know you weren't,' Roderick thought. The muffled sounds he had heard through the wall had definitely said otherwise. "In that case, perhaps you won't mind that I phoned to say I have arranged for us to have breakfast together in the morning. If you could meet me in the restaurant at, what shall we say, half past eight?"
"Half eight would be fine," John agreed; although to be honest he would have almost agreed to anything just to get off the phone in that instance.
"Until then, good night. And I'll see you in the morning," Roderick calmly stated, and ended the call.
By the side of him, Daisy gently snored, unknowing and uncaring; so Roderick lay back down on his pillow, smirking with delight. He may not be able to stop Donna replacing him, but he could certainly rock the boat for a while.
"That was Roderick?!" Donna asked incredulously. "What a complete arse! He could have easily saved all that for the morning."
"Perhaps he had a special reason," John tried to defend his cousin. Not that he believed it for one second.
"Yes, we all know what his special reason was," she grumbled.
"Let's not spoil this altogether," he begged, drawing her back into his embrace and kissing her temple. "I dunno about you but I could easily fall sleep."
"You've had a long day," she agreed, feeling sorry for him. It couldn't be easy for him and the hours he worked.
With one last loving kiss, they snuggled down together and were soon fast asleep.
Roderick strode out of his bedroom and headed for the breakfast facilities, not noticing until the last second who the stout man standing in his way was. "Dad?! What are you doing here?" he stammered out.
"I came to keep an eye on you, my boy," his father answered sternly. "After your phone call yesterday I was most concerned."
"I told you I can cope with this," Roderick hissed under his breath.
"Normally I would not doubt you," his father continued, "but you seem to have lost sight of the ball."
There was a feminine giggle and then Donna appeared in the foyer near them. She halted immediately. "Mr Peterson! Hello, it's lovely to see you again," she greeted him.
"It always gladdens my heart to see you, Donna dear," his father heartily returned the greeting. "Is this what I think it is?" he aimed towards Roderick, a tinge of pride in his voice.
Before Roderick could answer, John came bounding up. "Flipping shoelaces coming undone," he said to them before he spotted Mr Peterson. "Oh! Hello, Uncle Donald. Does Mum know you've come up here?" he wondered as pleasantly as he could, accepting his uncle's handshake.
"It's good to see you, John. No, I haven't informed your mother," he cautiously replied, and shot Roderick a disgusted look. "Would you care to explain what is going on?" he angrily questioned his son.
Backing away from them as her phone rang in her pocket, Donna quickly answered it in a low voice. "Hello Jocasta. Sorry I can't talk at the moment. Round two has just started up."
"Why is that, dear?" Jocasta inevitably asked.
"Roderick's dad has now appeared out the blue, so there'll be fireworks. There always is when he's around. It sets Roderick on edge every time, and then he becomes a complete arse," Donna hastily whispered.
"Has he?" Jocasta wondered, enjoying this sudden twist in proceedings. It was sparking all sorts of ideas for her book in her head. "Do let me know once everything has calmed down. Take care!"
Setting the phone back in its recharging cradle, Jocasta almost skipped with glee towards her dictation machine. The plot was forming quite nicely in her mind, and she wanted to get a copy of that recorded as soon as possible. There was nothing like a disapproving parent to set the cat among the pigeons, or whatever the literary equivalent was. As she picked up her microphone, she pushed back unwanted memories from when it had personally happened to her; this was Donna's story, and she would keep it that way. In many respects John was the perfect romantic hero with his layers of intellect, charm and shyness. Admittedly Donna was not the average heroine of romantic novels, but Jocasta intended to turn all of that on its head. By the end of it she wanted the reading public to adore her version of an older woman finding love armed only with confidence.
"I was beginning to wonder if Roderick would ever let go of me when we said goodbye. He never was keen to be on his own with Mr Peterson," Donna commented as she drove along the country lanes back towards Jocasta's cottage. When John didn't reply, she continued, "It still doesn't feel right that we didn't stay and have breakfast with your uncle, considering you haven't seen him in ages."
John merely stared despondently out of the window. "Trust me, we weren't welcome to stay," he insisted.
"We weren't? Why?" she pressed to know.
Sighing deeply, he reluctantly admitted, "Uncle Donald doesn't like me; never has. Mum said he couldn't wait to get Ricky away from me even before Aunt Cressida died."
"That was her sister, right?" Donna sought to confirm.
"Yes." He then turned towards her to quietly ask, "Can you drop me off first?"
"But… I thought we were going to eat breakfast together!" she complained.
"I know," he apologetically agreed. "Sorry, but I'd better check on the sheep as soon as possible. Dad might be struggling with it all."
Indicating right, she reluctantly headed towards Hollow Farm instead. "At least you can warn them that Mr Peterson has shown up, I suppose."
"They'll be very pleased," he sarcastically remarked. "Not that they won't have been expecting it to happen at some point."
The car pulled into the farm private road and she tried to smile consolingly at him as she glanced over. "Where exactly do you want me to stop?"
"Anywhere will do," he distractedly answered, obviously deep in his own thoughts.
Trying to remain chipper, she parked the car as close to the farmhouse as she could without making it look as though she was expecting to be invited in. "I'll see you later then," she said with a hint of hopefulness.
"Probably," he muttered, giving his hair an anxious touch, and only then looked properly at her crestfallen expression. Leaning towards her, he captured her head within his hands and splayed his long fingers in her hair. Kissing her lips, he apologised with, "I am so sorry, Donna. We had such a great night together, and now I've brought the whole tone down."
She gently kissed him back. "It's natural to be worried."
"Maybe, but…" His lips against hers demonstrated his sadness, that is, until the kiss turned more passionate and sensual. Breaking apart, they both lightly panted. "I'll phone you later to arrange tonight. Is that okay? God, I wish I could afford to book us another hotel room."
"Who needs a hotel?" she wondered, suppressing a pleased smile. "Not when we have other means available."
It was quite a sad scene between Roderick and his father as they ate breakfast alone together in the hotel restaurant. Everybody else around them was full of excited chatter about their day ahead, or they were slightly the worse for wear. Roderick felt neither emotion as he viewed his father over the top of his coffee cup, having pushed away the remainder of his full English breakfast.
"Now that Daisy has gone I assume you want to have words with me," he opened their conversation.
His father inevitably scowled at him. "Quite frankly, I am disappointed in you," he begun. "The object of the exercise was to gain the necessary staff for your project and then return home. Last night I phoned you, only to be answered by that girl you insist on keeping when you have Donna in the grasp of your hand."
"It's not as simple as that," Roderick protested.
"Isn't it?" his father countered. "We need Donna to run the farm, alongside the man who will do all the donkey work. What has happened to you? You can normally get her to do whatever you want."
"Those days are gone." It was with pride that Roderick noted he had hidden the personal sadness of his comment.
"Then get them back!" Donald hissed through his teeth.
"I can't," Roderick stressed. "She has other interests now. Namely my cousin."
Donald Peterson gave a cruel laugh; appalled with his son's attitude. "John?! Since when did you allow anything or him to get one over you?"
Indignation and protectiveness made Roderick retort, "Dad, I don't want to hurt John."
"This isn't about family," his father said in a low voice, bending nearer to emphasise his words. "This is business; so listen to me, my boy. You will get Donna away from John long enough for her to agree to work for us. I really do not understand why your fondness for him is stopping you getting what we want. I have told you before, caring so much is a weakness."
"Yes, Dad," Roderick obediently chanted. It was something he had often done in his life; so much so, that agreeing with his father was as natural as breathing.
"We should form a little ploy to break them up for a while," Donald continued, deep in thought. "A love interest from his past to stir up the waters. What was the name of that girl who featured so heavily in his life at one time?"
Shocked he should remember that detail, Roderick hesitantly supplied, "Her name was Martha. Martha Jones."
"Ah yes! That's the one. Give her a call," his dad ordered.
It was with a heavy heart that Roderick nodded his agreement. Did the fact he wanted to do this for himself rather than the business make this so questionable? As he sat quietly thinking it through, he also considered how he would build a bridge back to his cousin afterwards.