The Greener Field

Irresistible Charm

At ten o'clock that next morning Sarah's smartphone, which she had kept all night next to her pillow, began to ring. Answering it, she was prepared to be cold and angry if it were indeed Jess. Feeling stranded and so abandoned on another continent, despite her luxurious surroundings, had been unsettling and highly uncomfortable to her.

"Hey beautiful! How jet lagged are you this morning?"

"Jess?  What happened last night. I expected to see you!"

"Yeah. These things happen. But look, I'll be making it up to you soon. I'm coming back into the city right now from just north of London. Should be at your hotel in about . . . an hour, baby."

"Yeah . . . right. Why didn't you call, Jess. I waited all night for you. I thought we had dinner plans."

"You didn't eat anything? I told you to order from room service, sweetie. Wow. You must be famished by now."

"Actually . . . I'm not hungry, Jess. I'm more . . . angry . . . Angry that you would treat me like that!"

"Hey come on, princess. I told you I wasn't sure when I could get away. Things were just pretty intense last night. Just trust that, Sarah. I'm actually pretty lucky to even be here right now. On the road that is."

His voice was strangely serious.

"Jess? . . . Are you sure everything's OK?"

"Well now?  Yeah. Completely. Look, Sarah. It's a mean world out there. Things don't always go smooth. But I'm gonna make it all up to you, baby. Today . . . and tonight. I'll be by to pick you up for lunch shortly. Now dress casually. We're going out to the countryside."

"Where?"

"To a place owned  by a friend of mine. It's an equestrian estate. Southeast of the City. Over in Ashford, Kent. And after one of the best meals you'll ever have, we'll go riding. Out on his land holdings. A real English countryside afternoon, you might say."

"Riding?"

"Horses, lover. He's a freak for the equestrian life. Polo. Jumping. You'll love Derek. He's an absolute eccentric. A real beauty."

"Jess . . . I just want to see you."

"And so you shall. Just as soon as you get dressed for the county. I'll be at the hotel in forty-five minutes. Guaranteed, sweetie."

"Well, you've said that before . . ."

"Don't be a doubter now!"

"Alright. See you then."

"Put on some music, lover. There's a great sound system with controls right behind your head if you're still lying in bed. . . something I'd like to picture right now . . ."

"OK. Take it easy, lover boy."

"Believe me, I plan to. That is . . . until later this evening."

"We'll see about that."

"Haven't had any trouble convincing you of that before."

"Right. Just get here this time. This wonderful place I'm held hostage in . . . It really is amazing. Just a bit lonely."

"Help is on the way!"

I'm going to hold you to that this time."

"Kisses, princess."

* * *

Jess Danford was a man of his word this time, arriving at the hotel just when Sarah was ready to meet him. Standing outside the doorway of her room when she greeted him, he pushed a half-dozen white roses in ahead of him. This was followed by his smiling face and an eventual kiss, intended only as a greeting and not a precursor to what Sarah knew he would be working hard to orchestrate later. Nevertheless, she was delighted to be in his arms again, and felt her heart quicken as she smelled his sprightly cologne and all the memories it carried with it of his manly and irresistible presence. There was that certain boyishness about his expression she found so irresistible in combination with a man who was confident and strong. His fark hair and slightly Mediterranean looks were intriguing enough. But taken together with piercing grayish-blue eyes were what had beguiled her the moment she had seen him back in Greece.

They left the hotel parking ramp in a late model black Jaguar, Jess commandeering the car traditionally British on the opposite side of the road. He drove out of the city toward the southeastern coast in the direction of Dover, he explained. Leaving the busy city, Sarah was relieved to see the charming country roads branching out in all directions before them.

She now found herself to be in a much better mood, sitting so close to the man she thought so much about over the past weeks. His agreeable looks and always positive manner was contagious, capable of defusing her all her previous anger. And after a good hour of driving, with Jess telling her of his friend Derek's hospitality and generosity over the years, they finally pulled off the road onto his property, through a massive gate and onto a gray gravel driveway. 

The motor path soon passed through green manicured lawns on both sides which swept gradually up into the rolling hills. In the distance were many types of trees comprising the landscape of a lush and wooded surroundings. Finally coming into view was the sprawling stables and riding field, apparently for Derek' equestrian sports activities. There were several people riding horses on these parcels and as Jess drove on they finally encountered the main house. It was a massive field-stone structure, three stories tall, with cream-colored Georgian columns and white, shuttered windows gracing each level.

Pulling up to the entryway and parking the Jaguar next to a pair of Land Rovers, Jess escorted Sarah up to the large double front doors. These wooden panels had strange serpentine carvings on each, hinting of the macabre, and giving the total atmosphere of the isolated mansion a somewhat uneasy ambiance. Knocking with the large bronze fist which was hinged to one of the doors, an elderly female housekeeper came to answer, wearing a typical Edwardian servant's uniform.

Even before she could formally greet the guests, a man stepped up behind her, tall of stature with shoulder-length graying hair. He was gaunt and his weathered face spoke of a long life of experiences—some perhaps tragic and some perhaps ecstatic.

"Ah, Jess . . . come in! Come in, my beautiful friends!"  the master of the estate loudly offered.

To Sarah's ears, the strange host's words sounded much more like a command than an invitation.

* * *

Text and e-book copyright © 2015 Califia Montalvo

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