“What? It is.”
I roll my eyes and toss out a “whatever,” because it’s the easiest response when I’m wishing he wasn’t grinning at me quite so widely and being so damn personable. It makes it all the harder not to like him.
“Would you like a tour?”
I nod without bothering to hide my excitement. “Yes, please.”
“One second.” He waves over a couple of grooms hosing down feed buckets. “Charlie?—”
The shorter of the two hurries as quickly as he can without running, his eyes flickering to me before focusing on Miles. Up close, I notice the navy shirt he’s wearing—the one I’ve seen all the grooms in—has the same Foxleigh Park logo as the cap I’ve seen Miles wearing.
“Yes, my lord? What can I help you with?”
I stare at Charlie, and his weirdly formal politeness. It doesn’t even seem forced.
“Can you and Will hose the ponies down, please, then take them to their stalls?”
“Yes, sir. No problem.” He nods, holding his hands out for the reins, and I pass them over.
Hosing the ponies is normally my job as a groom. My brain’s going to need time to recalibrate that someone else will be doing it from now on.
“Do you need anything else?”
“No, that’s all, thank you. I’m going to show my wife around the yard before the new ponies arrive. Are their stalls ready?”
Once again, Charlie nods, but he doesn’t indicate that he heard Miles's reference to me. Except he clearly did when he replies, “Yes, sir, we finished this morning.”
“Good, I’ll be here when they arrive, then I want them in the therapy suites.”
I’m barely listening to a word he’s saying, because my head’s still back on the part of the sentence where Miles called me his wife, and Charlie here didn’t bat an eyelid. If he feels any hint of surprise at Miles’s announcement, then he’s a much better actor than I am a polo player.
“Certainly, sir.”
“Good, thank you.” Miles smiles at him, then turns to me. His smile morphs into more of a knowing smirk. “Darling, a tour? By the time we’re done, Maverick and Calamity will have arrived.”
“Lead the way.”
We walk over creamy-colored cobbles to the center of the yard—a vast square expanse flanked by low barns on two sides and stable blocks on the other—and stop under a mature cherry blossom tree with its fluffy pink petals on the verge of making an appearance.
“This,” he begins, slinging a heavy bicep over my shoulder, his fingers dangling millimeters from my boob, “is my baby. Foxleigh Park, home of the Foxleigh Flyers. We also have an amateur team, the Foxleigh Otters, which we use to train green ponies, or ones coming back from injury.”
I forget all about my morning, the pain in my body, the sweat sticking my shirt to my back,andthe desire to murder him.
I’m too excited to register how close he is to me, his stubble tickling my temple as he bends his head to talk, whileI breathe in his scent—sweaty and masculine—mingling with mine. Because this—being here—is exactly why I have a band of diamonds sitting on the fourth finger of my left hand.
Being on a high-goal yard—being part of a team where players like Miles practice every day, where they come together to ride the best ponies in the world—gives me an indescribable thrill. It’s all my dreams come true. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a teenager and watched polo for the first time.
It’s what I thought I’d experience when I took the position on Scott McTavish’s yard. But that wasTemucompared to this.
Because Miles isn’t just a player. He’s apatron, but unlike most patrons and sponsors who sit on the sidelines drinking vintage champagne and eating caviar-covered Wagyu steak, the only thing Miles eats is polo. He sleeps and breathes it too. It’s not just a numbers game, or a hobby to pour money into for tax relief and elevate his social standing.
It’s his life.
The pride in his voice is evident, and looking around this place, while he might be a smug prick, he deserves every bit of recognition he gets. There’s not a speck of dirt out of place.
“My father built this place, and I continue his legacy.”
I don’t know what to say. I want to tell him his father would be proud, because how could henotbe? It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve only just scratched the surface. But I don’t. I stay quiet.
