AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Don’t mock me, Roman. We married based on that promise.”
“No, we married because we have long loved each other, and we recognize the moment for what it was: our chance.”
They rode in silence for a while longer before Shelene said, “She’s a dream to ride. You were fortunate to find such horses and the person willing to sell them.”
“Señor Madrigalas will be in Cadiz in a month. I told him we would attend him since he is bringing in more Arabians from Morocco. I think they will be a great addition to building our own line of Arabians, though it won’t hurt to look for prime Andalucían stock as well.”
“Making friends already?”
“In fact, that is the first thing I do—did—every time I went on a mission for the Crown. Making friends makes everything easier when you want information.”
“When we get back, I need to ride up and see Oliver. I want to see if the bark is relieving some of his malarial symptoms.”
“This morning he seemed rather chipper. I wouldn’t worry about Oliver. Mrs. Spencer has been smothering him with attention. And I don’t think he minds overmuch.”
“Still, I should check on the health of a friend. Besides, we are not complete heathens in the backcountry of Spain.”
He laughed. “You sounded very English just then.”
She lifted her nose.
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone,” he said.
“I should think not. What an insulting thing to say to a woman who has spent her entire life, except two years, living in Spain.” She reined her horse up the trail. “Too bad Englishmen can barely keep up with a Spanish woman.” She used a small riding crop and tapped the horse’s flank, sending it up at a breakneck speed.
“Shelene! Wait.” At the top of the hill, with a large green pasture spread out in front of them, Shelene pulled up and waited for him to join her. “That was reckless!” he said.
“I’m not riding side-saddle and I’ve ridden this hill many, many times. I think I’m in love…” she said, glancing at him while patting the horse’s neck. “With this horse. I’ll ride yours next time.”
“Not my horses. Yours. You ought to name them, though.”
“Bronte is going to be jealous you’ve abandoned him.”
“If it were practical, I would bring the old boy to Spain and let him romp with these fine fillies, but he’s earned his rest and I promised him green pastures and a warm stall the rest of his life.”
“In England? The poor boy probably has a constant chill. How about we name them Arsu and Azizos?”
“The evening star and the morning star? It fits.”
She stroked the horse with a gentle swipe of her hand. Roman felt acute jealousy that she lavished more affection on her beast of burden than she did him. He would need to be more diligent in his pursuit.
“Arsu and I will race you to the rock fence.” Cattle fed at the far side of the pasture and three riders were visible watching over the herd.
“Is there a cliff on the other side of that barrier? I would hate to jump over and find nothing but air.”
She laughed. “If I were going to dupe you in order to get your money, perhaps, but I think it wouldn’t be that difficult to ask for everything you have and you would oblige.”
“My dear, you are too confident. Did you say something about a race?” He clucked his tongue and took an early lead. Of course, he was going to let her win, wasn’t he? Ah, hell no. She deserved a thorough thrashing.
Roman didn’t look back. He could feel horse and rider hard at his heel. The mare beneath him had also picked up the challenge and surged ahead, clods shooting up from its hooves.
They came to the fence and he tugged the horse left, slowing and bringing Shelene’s horse with them as they came to a rest between a group of trees. The canopy above provided shade for the green grass below and the blanket he was going to lay down for their comfort.
He dismounted, breathing hard, and tied off the reins for Azizos, the winner in his first gambit to win the return of Shelene’s trust. She loved him. Of that, he was sure.
Shelene leaned against her saddle horn, her arms braced. “Is that how you win a woman’s love? You let me win last time.”
“And look what it got me. Out of your good graces no matter the Herculean efforts to reclaim what is mine.”
