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CHAPTER SIX
CARA
“When will my belongings be delivered?” I ask when I find Ronan sipping on a coffee at the breakfast bar. I woke up alone, and I'm glad because his sour expression is unappealing.
Ronan is a dark man with a dark appetite, and although I’d been taught to submit to my husband, the thought of my body belonging to him leaves me feeling shaken.
His fingertips rim his cup, his eyes affixed to the action, avoiding me completely. “We’ll be residing at the estate. Lola has sent some clothes. Get dressed.”
I don’t recall him coming to bed, but I know he slept there. It’s odd to be sharing a bed with someone. To be uprooted and left without your natural safety net. Ronan is the only person I have here, and we can’t tolerate each other's company.
“Last night—”
“Was a one-time thing,” he interrupts, pinning me with a hard stare.
“You're not my type,” I say quietly. He is a handsome man, but harsh and intimidating.
His laugh is filled with scorn. “I’m the type Mummy and Daddy want for you.”
I have no response for that, so I leave him and dress in the clothes Lola sent. I’d like to think in time I could lean on her, but Connor will determine how much time we spend together. Effectively, I'm alone. And scared. I hate that I'm so damn scared.
Ronan drives us back to Connor’s family home. I sit in silent contemplation. The outfit Lola provided is simple and cute—jeans, sandals, and a thin shirt. I play with the hem as I stare out the window. Growing up around the mafia wives, I know what my role should be, know what is expected, but I never quite knew how ashamed that would make me feel. Ronan drives up to the heavy black gates. Armed guards appear and nod him through. Any evidence of our wedding is long gone. A gardener is mowing the grass and more security walks the perimeter. It’s back to business.
“I’ll be busy most of the day. There are stables at the back of the property. One of the guards will drive you down.”
Stables? An unexpected flare of joy sweeps through my chest. “I didn’t know. I don’t have any of my gear.” I peer through the window down the sweeping track, but woodland obscures my view.
“Ask one of the groomers to get you something.” He parks up and twists in his seat when I ask about my phone. “As soon as Connor has it checked, he will return it.” He exits the vehicle, passing his keys to a waiting guard, and I unclip my belt and almost follow him. I stop and turn to the guard as he climbs in.
“Could you drive me to the stables?” The guard looks to Ronan, who is staring at me through the windshield. He dips his head in a nod, and I settle in for the short journey.
The small image I had conjured up does not do this place justice. I know that Gabriela is a big horse lover, so I can only imagine this was built for her.
The yard is extensive, the barn itself is colonel, a wide Olympic space with an arched roof. Horses nicker and kick. The grassy scent of hay lifts my spirits, and I head towards a man grooming a horse.
“Excuse me, hello?” He turns, and his milky eyes flicker in my direction; he’s blind. His horse snorts, stamping his hoof in warning. “It’s okay, boy,” I soothe the horse. “I’m Cara,” I tell the groomer.
“Yes, Ronan called ahead. He also said you’re not wearing suitable footwear. Go fetch some boots. I could do with a hand down here.”
The tack room is fully kitted out and is in better condition than the prestigious yard I held my horse Vinnie in. Leaving him behind had crippled me, but seeing the setup here, I’m sure I could have him transported to Connor’s estate. I mention it to Clyde, the groomer.
“Best you settle in first. Stables six and seven need mucking out. Peter, who usually assists, is indisposed at the moment.”
“Great, thanks.”
“Don’t think I won’t notice if you cut corners. I may not be able to see, but I know this yard like the back of my hand.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I work hard in the stables, grooming and mucking out the stalls for most of the afternoon. Clyde mentioned he had been working alone for a week, so I take extra care with cleaning and refilling the store cupboard from the overflow. My body aches, and hay and muck litter my clothes, but I love it. Kasper, a thoroughbred, nudges my back, snorting as I fill his hay net. “Impatient, huh? Well, you got to be nice if you want any treats.” Grinning, I snap a carrot and offer it to him. He chomps loudly, and I run my hand over his mane. “You’re gorgeous, boy.”
“He needs a good ride. He was Miss Reyes’ horse, but she never came back for him.” My smile dampens. “Her kit is in here, not sure if it will fit you, but the manège is free.”
I find a locker with jodhpurs and a riding hat. I change quickly and locate Kasper’s saddle. He snorts and stomps when I tighten the girth. I laugh, adjusting the stirrups, and then I walk him through the barn out to the manège. I’m climbing up the enclosure when Ronan pulls up and gets out, stuffing his hands in his trousers. Ignoring him, I swing my leg over, and Kasper kicks into a trot, shaking his mane. My husband watches as I trot around the periphery of the enclosure. Kasper is a thrumming machine beneath my thighs, eager to burst into a sprint. I look out across the fields and smooth my hand down his neck. “Want to go for a run, boy?”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” Ronan shouts as I line him up at the end.
“He is desperate to be ridden properly.”
