“Elbows out.”
My molars crunch as I grit my teeth.
“Good, now do it again.”
Lemondrop’s waiting for the instruction to move, and the moment I squeeze my thighs, she shifts into gear, galloping toward the balls all neatly lined up for me to hit into the goal. Pain sings through my body, starting at my toes, hitting parts of me I didn’t even know existed.
Thighs, shoulders, back, elbows.
It all hurts.
But I follow his instruction to the letter, and I hit every ball smack in the middle. Each one soars cleanly through the goalposts.
I don’t know what I hate more—that he was right or the smug grin spreading across his face as he gallops over to me on his stunning chestnut, Clover. He grinds to a halt inches from where I’m struggling to catch my breath. Lemondrop doesn’t even flinch. She just drops her head to munch on the grass.
“Well done. See what happens when you listen to what I say?”
I’mthisclose to swinging my mallet into his stupid, smug—technically correct—face.
“I have been listening,” I say, wiping the sweat dripping down my face.
“Debatable—”
“Ihave.”
He stares at me, one dark brow raised to the point it almost disappears under his helmet.
“You know, this isn't very husbandly behavior.”
In a second, his entire face morphs from borderline annoyance until I can see him holding back a smirk.
“You’re right, it isn't, Ruby,darling. Now, if you’d like to go again, mybeautiful wife, and keep yourperfectarse shifted back in the saddle, and your grip lowered on the mallet, we can check it wasn’t a fluke. Is that better?”
I giddy Lemondrop on, turning her before Miles sees my lips quivering in amusement, and the tint warming my cheeks at the idea he’s been checking me out.
“Much,” I call behind me.
“Good, then get into position.” And we’re back to yelling. Before he adds, “Please,darling.”
Once again, I do as ordered.
As much as I hate every moment of my life right now, I also have never felt so exhilarated. I must have been riding around with my eyes closed to think I had any idea of how to play polo properly. I've never been on ponies of this caliber, and I’m ashamed to admit I realize why I’ve never been given a proper lesson before.
I always thought I was halfway to being a good player, but Miles is world-class. Therefore, if it takes every cell in my body to scream in protest, to get within touching distance of being as good as him, then so be it.
“One more round. This time, I want you to bump me.”
“What?”
“Ride Lemondrop straight toward me. She knows what to do. I want to see you bump.”
Fuck. I’ve spent plenty of time on the wooden horse, perfecting my swing. I’ve hit ball after ball, and I’ve practiced my spins with Maverick. But I have never bumped.
“Ruby, are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“She’ll drop her shoulder, so you need to keep your weight steady.”
