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She shook her head. “Okay, Mr. Collins, now that my panties are no longer in a twist, I am ready to face the day. What’s the first thing on the agenda?”
“Finish getting dressed,” he said, tossing her jeans at her. He walked to the window. “It’s a fine day. Would you like me to show you around the grounds? We could ride down to the ruins to look around. Or would you like me to show you around the manor?”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing the ruins.” She stiffened. “Ride what, exactly?”
“A horse. You do know how to ride one, don’t you?”
“No, I’m not fond of horseback riding. I think it has something to do with watching people breaking their necks jumping over obstacles for sport.”
He faced her, leaning his backside on the windowsill. “We can’t get to the ruins otherwise. It’s too far to walk and too difficult for the car.”
“That’s because you drive a P.O.S. You should invest in a Range Rover. They drive over everything.” She finished zipping her jeans, sliding her feet into her tennis shoes.
He sat up straight. “Did you just call my car a piece of shit?”
She shrugged. “If the Corolla fits . . .”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s it. You’ll ride in the hatch when we head back to London.”
“The roof would be better,” she quipped, patting her back pockets.
He shook his head. “Do you have an answer for everything?”
“I’m a writer; it’s what I do.”
He laughed. “As I was saying before we were sidetracked, we can ride to the ruins and look around. I’ll find you a gentle mare that won’t do more than walk at a sedate pace. Will that suit you?”
“No, but if I want to see these ruins of yours, I have little choice in the matter.” She scuffed her foot against the rug.
He draped his arm over her shoulder, hugging her close. “Don’t be such a baby. It won’t be so bad, and you might find you actually like it.”
She scoffed. “Not this country girl. I like horsepower fine, in a car, not actually powered by a smelly horse.”
“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”
She smacked his chest. “Stop adopting American figures of speech. It leaves me with nothing to say.”
He chuckled. “We wouldn’t want that.”
Chapter 4
Nicole stood at the stable door, watching Reece as he saddled the horses, precise in his movements. He talked softly to the beasts, and they seemed to enjoy the sound of his voice. Who didn’t? His low rumble could melt the polar ice caps. It made her knees week; that was for sure.
She wondered if her attraction to him was as noticeable as she thought it was. She didn’t want him to know. It would be terrible to lose his friendship over something so insignificant.
She’d seen the tabloid and magazine articles, linking his name with this actress or that model. She couldn’t compete with women like that and didn’t stand a chance in capturing his romantic interest. Their budding friendship was based on mutual respect with just a touch of playful flirting. It was nothing to get her panties in a twist over.
Reece was bending over, checking the cinch of the saddle. His butt was on display. She felt like she was drooling. He had a very fine ass. Her cheeks reddened as she looked her fill, wishing she was brazen enough to sneak up behind him to cop a feel. Down girl, she thought, he’s way out of your league.
It was too bad they were who they were. They could have really hit it off, seen where their flirting could lead, but they orbited in different solar systems.
He was leading the horses out of the stables. She backed away to leave him room to maneuver, giving the animals a wide berth.
Reece stopped in front of her. “This is Beauty.” At her look, he chuckled. “I know, not very original, but my sister was a huge Disney fan when we were young.” He took her hand, laying it against the horse’s neck and stroking downward. “If you talk to her as you’re petting her, she’ll respond to the sound of your voice.”
Nicole ran her hand down the horse’s neck, Reece’s fingers still atop hers. “It’s soft,” she said in surprise.
“Very much so,” he said, moving his hand, skimming it up her arm until it rested on her shoulder.
