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I blink in silence, trying to wrap my head around the idea. It doesn’t work. I can’t fathom it.
“Like, a live one?”
“I don’t keep any other kind here.”
My mouth drops open, my voice little more than a squeak. “Do I have to?”
Everyone glances at me in surprise. I suppose they’re not used to hearing people not immediately kowtow to him.
“Yes,” Bill replies in hisif you want to keep your job, then yestone. Freaking hell. “Get some rest now. If you’re going to learn to ride, you’ll want to get a good night’s sleep.”
He disappears, and I stare at his closed door, frozen on the spot.
“Yes,” I say to no one in particular. “Because knowing I have to get on ahorsetomorrow will make me sleep like a freaking baby.”
Someone, I think it’s Tiffany, snorts. “You’re afraid of getting on a horse?”
I turn to her, my eyes wide with disbelief. “Uh,yes. People die falling off horses.”
Timothy opens the door to the room beside mine, snorting at my dramatic pronouncement. “You won’t die. He’s not about to stick you on a fucking racehorse.”
“He could put me on one going to the glue factory, and I’d still probably fall off it.”
Timothy grins at me. “Be at breakfast at seven, dressed for horseback riding. I’ll run you through the basics before yourmeeting.”
I stare at him for a beat, nodding as he closes his bedroom door behind him. Maybe I should try meditating before bed. Anything to take my mind off what is undoubtedly going to be a disastrous morning. I hope they have priority pickup for the ambulance.
As promised, Timothy is waiting for me at the breakfast table at seven the next morning. Dressed in jeans and a jacket, with boots on. Luka included a riding outfit because Bill clearly told him to. I feel ridiculous, but Timothy doesn’t laugh at me.
His eyes slide down over my legs and ass. I blush and almost squirm. He’s a hella good-looking guy who is currently checking out my assets. But he smirks and goes back to his coffee and toast like it’s nothing.
Sinking into a chair across the table – I don’t think I need to take my assigned seat next to him when we’re the only two here – I down a coffee, but my stomach is churning too much to try for food.
When it becomes obvious that I will eat nothing, Timothy flashes me a grin, standing and making the universalafter yougesture. Rising from the table like a condemned woman, I follow him out of the house and toward the stables.
“Isn’t it too cold for the horses?” I bleat, using the excuse I came up with last night, but Timothy grins over at me.
“Not chicken, are you?”
I bristle immediately at the implication. “No.”
His grin widens, and he strides ahead as I gnash my teeth, stomping after him.
Timothy speaks to the groom when we get inside the stables, which are nice and warm for the horses. Maybe they should stay in here. The groom leads us over to a horse that, unlike the others, isn’t angrily snorting.
Timothy gestures to the placid-looking horse. “This is Buttercup. Buttercup,” he turns to the horse and gestures to me, “this is Angie.”
I don’t know if he’s making fun of me right now. Just because I’m not a facing horse rider like him. He knows I’m from QB. We don’t have stables there. Oh! I start with surprise as he reaches down and takes my hand.
“Uh, what -.”
I cut off with a choking noise as he lifts my hand, placing it gently on the horse’s forehead. Okay. It’s not as soft as it looks, but it’s not rough. He moves behind me, and I’m glad he can’t see my face, which has gone bright red as the heat of Timothy’s body warms my back where he’s standing so close to me.
“Just relax.”
I shiver slightly as his breath brushes on my ear, where he’s murmuring to me.
“If you’re scared, she’ll pick up on it. So, relax.”
