“Don't worry, Arthur, you know me, always the sensible one.”
I hang up as he groans loudly down the phone.
Ever since I was a child, one thing has guaranteed to get me doing something: telling me I can’t. And the more I think about it, the better the idea sounds.
Slipping my phone into my pocket, I walk outside toward the practice field where Ruby’s putting Maverick through drills. It's quieter today. Not so many bored, rich divorcées on the lookout for a polo player, dragging along their reluctant daughters to make them look less inconspicuous.
Stopping at the gates, I lean over and watch. If she notices me here, she doesn’t let on, so I stay quiet and wait, observing with my professional eye.
She needs to keep her elbows tighter, and she’s sitting a fraction too far forward, and she’s too stiff with her mallet, but the way she moves with Maverick—fluidly giving the lightest instruction—reminds me of how I ride Clover, my favorite horse. I don't know where she got him from, but he's a beautiful horse in good shape, albeit not match fit. But once he’s been through a month of hard training at Foxleigh, he’ll look fantastic.
She rounds on a series of polo balls lined in a row. All but the last three go wide.
“Tighten your elbows,” I yell. “Loosen your grip on the mallet.”
Typically, she ignores me, which makes me smile. I've never come across someone with such indifference toward me. She does, however, take my advice, and my mouth stretches wider when she moves to the next three balls and executes a perfect contact, hitting them directly between the center goalposts. Hopefully, taking my advice will pay off in more ways than one, because I’m about to present her with my plan.
On the plus side, I’ve noticed her eyes aren’t quite so black and hate-filled on the occasions she does acknowledge me. She also doesn’t seem like the type to back down from an opportunityorchallenge.
When all the balls are used up, Ruby follows up with a gallop around the field, because obviously she’s not going to come straight over and acknowledge me. And I’m not about to hold my breath for a thank-you.
Maverick grinds to a halt two feet from me, lets out a series of excited whickers, and shoves his head straight into my shoulder, leaving a long trail of saliva along my shirt.
“Sorry, buddy, no more carrots for you. If you're coming to be on my team, you need to go on a diet.”
It’s true, he does, but it was worth saying just to see the indignation in Ruby’s eyes. Fury truly makes the green sparkle.
“He does not need to go on a diet.”
“I disagree, and as it’s my yard, my team. It’s my rules.”
Her jaw pops, but she doesn’t argue. “Well, when are we leaving, then?”
Keeping my tone as casual as possible, I stroke along Maverick’s neck. “Well, that’s up to you. I have bad news, but I also have good news. Which do you want first?”
“Bad,” she says without a beat.
“A girl after my own heart,” I reply, which earns me a scowl and makes me more certain about my proposal—for lack of a better word. It could very well be the most ludicrous idea I’veever had, but for some reason, it doesn’t feel like it. “The work visa you need will take eight to ten weeks minimum, and you can’t come over to play without it?—”
“That takes up half the summer,” she gripes.
“Yes, I know.”
This time, it’s not just her jaw that clenches. Her whole face morphs with annoyance. She thinks I’ve wasted her time and got her hopes up for nothing. But weirdly, her head drops, so she doesn’t have to make eye contact because then I’ll see her disappointment. In our limited time together, I’ve learned Ruby doesn’t like to give anything away.
“There’s another option?—”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
This time, I wait until she’s looking directly at me before I drop the bombshell.
“You marry me.”
CHAPTER 5
Ruby
“Iwant it on the record that I think this is a very bad idea.”
