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“You’re so unfair.” I allowed myself a sulk.
“I never claimed to be. At any rate, the answer isn’t something you’d like to know.”
“But maybe I do. Maybe it’d give me peace with the fact that he disowned me.”
He stopped in front of what wasn’t a cabin but a red and white barn. “The fact that he gave up his precious gem just because I touched it is enough reason as to why he doesn’t deserve you.”
“And you do?” I asked.
“But, my darling, that’s the difference between me and your father. I never pretended to deserve you. I simply took you.”
I threw an arm over the barn’s wooden gate, shaking my head. “That’s definitely trespassing, Wolfe. I’m not going in.”
He jumped over the fence, making his way inside the barn without looking back.
There was fresh hay scattered by the doors, and by the scent of moist soil and what my riding instructor liked to call road apples (horse poop) floating in the air, I knew livestock were inside.
I heard Wolfe whistling from the depth of the open barn, clucking his tongue.
“She’s a beauty.”
“It’s been two seconds since you left my side, and you’re already flirting,” I called out.
The smile on my face hurt my cheeks. The sound of his throaty, gruff laughter filled the air.
I pressed my thighs together, something empty inside me aching to finally let him in. I could have sex with him tonight.
God, I wanted to have sex with him tonight.
For the first time since our engagement party, I felt fully prepared for my husband physically. More than prepared.
Needy.
And even though Wolfe was next to impossible to read, I did know this about him—he wanted me, too.
“C’mere,” he called, sounding surprisingly—perhaps even shockingly—like a young Italian boy from the variety I grew up with.
It was the way the word rolled off his tongue that gave me pause, but I shook my head, laughing to myself.
Wolfe Keaton was as well-bred as they came. His late father was a hotelier and his late mother was a Supreme Court judge.
“What if we get caught?” My grin threatened to slice my face in half.
I heard more whistling of admiration from the inside. He whistled like a street kid but waltzed like an aristocrat. I could never pin him down.
“We’re good for bail,” he drawled. “Get your cute butt over here, Nem.”
I looked left and right, ducked my head under the fence and tiptoed my way inside the barn. When I got in, he grabbed my hand and pulled me close.
Wolfe enveloped me from behind in a hug, jerking his chin to one of the four stalls, the only one that was occupied. A gorgeous Arabian horse, completely black, save for her stark white mane and tail, stared back at me.
Wolfe wasn’t exaggerating. She was breathtaking. And she blinked at me with her beautiful, tiny, and dense eyelashes.
I pressed my palm to my heart, feeling it pitter-pattering in my chest. I’d never seen a horse so beautiful.
Her eyes were calm and kind, and she bowed her head down, accepting the sheer admiration that must’ve shone in my eyes.
“Hey, girl.” I made my way to her, watching my pace, allowing her time to get used to me or change her mind.
