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Zach strode the length of the building and shouldered open a door at the far end. Old hinges creaked as he disappeared inside. She considered following him, but thought better of it and stayed near the horses, petting each curious, velvet-soft nose that was thrust in her direction, feeling the hot jets of breath against her palm.
What was she doing here? What was she trying to prove? She should go back to the house and leave Zach and his lousy mood. Better yet, she should steal his damned truck and return to Portland where the answers to her life lay hidden.
Still she lingered, using the excuse of her injuries as reason to stay out here, away from civilization, alone with the one man who had touched her heart. For years she’d sheltered herself and her emotions, but with Zachary she’d let down her guard, willingly come to care for…oh, God…
His footsteps echoed through the old building and she glanced up sharply. With only a cursory look in her direction, he hauled out a saddle, bridle, and blanket and kicked open the gate of the first stall, where a rangy buckskin gelding was tethered. The horse snorted and tossed his great head, but Zach managed to slip the bit between the buckskin’s teeth and strap the bridle on. His will was iron-clad and he won the battle between man and beast.
Adria suspected he was used to winning—a man who discovered what he wanted in life and ruthlessly went after it. Not unlike Witt Danvers. His father. Her father.
&n
bsp; Zach spread a blanket over the gelding’s back, slid the saddle into place, and pulled the cinch tight. He was intent on his work, as if he’d forgotten her. The silence, aside from the restlessness of the horses in their stalls, was deafening.
“You’re going for a ride?”
“What’s it look like?” he said.
“Where?” The question fell off her lips. He glanced over his shoulder and their gazes caught in the dim light of the stables. His eyes were dark and still glinted with a silent, pulsing fury. For several breathless seconds he held her stare and she found it hard to breathe.
“Why?”
She lifted a shoulder, then didn’t move. He was staring at her so intently she could barely breathe and she felt as if, with that harsh gaze, he was mentally stripping her—one piece of clothing at a time. She couldn’t swallow and her heart was drumming wildly.
His eyes lowered to the base of her throat where her pulse was throbbing erratically. When his gaze touched hers again it was pure seduction. “Do you want to come?” he drawled in a voice so low it could barely be heard over the shifting of the horses’ hooves and rustle of straw.
Oh, God! Barely able to breathe, she fingered a rope that had been left wound around a post. Her heart thundered. She stared into his intense, hot eyes and felt her joints go slack.
“Pardon?”
“Do you want to come?” he repeated slowly, the double entendre hanging heavy in the air between them.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
“Well?” he demanded. “Are you up for it? Or still too sore from the attack?”
No attacker was going to stop her from what she wanted to do. She nodded, staring into his smokey eyes. He was staring at her so hard, she could barely breathe. She licked her suddenly dry lips and heard the rush of wind whistle through the old rafters. “I think so.” Her voice was so breathless she hardly recognized it as her own.
“You’re sure?” One dark brow cocked dubiously and he hooked a thumb in his belt loop, his fingers riding low against his fly. “Could be a rough ride.”
Her knees suddenly felt as if they were made of rubber and she leaned her hips against the stall for support. “I know.”
“Could be dangerous.”
She swallowed with difficulty and felt a tiny spot of sweat bead between her breasts. “I’m not afraid,” she said, as though to convince herself. Her heart was racing, her mind spinning into wildly erotic images.
“Then you are a fool, Adria,” he said and swore beneath his breath. Clucking his tongue, he led the gelding out of his stall and through the back door of the stables.
Adria, feeling as if she’d had the wind knocked out of her, stalked after him. He’d been playing with her, was only teasing her, and she felt a new, white-hot rage sear through her blood. “Wait a minute!” she cried as he swung into the saddle.
He ignored her and kicked his horse hard in the flanks. The buckskin took off, breaking into a gallop.
“Wait! Zach, please—” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
He yanked back on the reins. The horse reared and whirled. Zach’s eyes flashed like lightning sizzling through a night-dark sky and his lips thinned in anger. A rugged cowboy, determined to have his way. “You don’t want this,” he said, his nostrils flaring, his face set in stone.
“You don’t know what I want!”
“Sure I do. All you want—all you’ve ever wanted was a way to get your hands on the family’s money. Well, it won’t happen through me.”
