The Whisperer. Elsa Winckler

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      The other man’s back was towards her; his hands were on his hips and he was leaning forward menacingly.

      “I want to use the damn horse, we need help to calm him down, to make him less aggressive, not cast a blasted spell on him. The last thing I need is a bloody woman whispering to my horses!”

      Ken put a placating hand on the other man’s shoulder. “She is going to communicate with the horse so that we can find out what the problem is. No one is casting a spell! And it is not so strange – there are thousands of people all over the world who use animal communicators. Try and think outside the box for a change!”

      A loud noise from within the stables again drowned out most of what the other man was saying.

      “… uck the box!” were the only words she heard, but it was clear he had cussed again. Apparently his vocabulary consisted mainly of swear words that began with an f.

      Ken laughed and patted the man on the shoulder. He noticed Cilla and motioned her to come closer.

      “Here she is now. Stop throwing such a tantrum before this beautiful lady decides to turn around and flee. Miss Stevens, let me introduce you to this grumpy young man.”

      The man turned around quickly and Cilla blinked. Everything around them became quiet. She had known exactly what he was going to look like even before he’d moved. She’d known his eyes were the colour of the deep blue sea, she’d known his hair was brown and curly, combed backwards, and she’d known about the one unruly curl on his forehead that just didn’t want to toe the line.

      Slowly everything returned to normal. Kind of. Cilla inhaled and tried to focus on what Ken was saying. The man looked so familiar … she shook her head. Probably only her imagination.

      “Cameron, this is Cilla Stevens, teacher and animal communicator, horse whisperer if you wish. And this skeptic, Miss Stevens, is the owner of the farm, Cameron Rahl. As I’m sure you’ve concluded by now, he is not very happy about your visit,” he teased, his eyes full of merriment.

      Warily, Cilla put out her hand. Cameron had not taken his eyes off of her, neither had he said anything. His eyes were cold. That he didn’t want her here was crystal clear. Defiantly, she lifted her chin. She hadn’t asked to be here, she was invited. What a rude man. It’s no wonder his horse had a problem.

      Eventually he took her hand, but only briefly. Strong fingers closed around her hand, engulfing it in his larger one. Disturbed, she looked down at their hands. She’d known exactly what his fingers would feel like, had known where the callouses would be. But how was that possible?

      Quickly she stepped back and nodded her head without looking at him again. She turned to Ken.

      “Where is the horse?”

      Before Ken could answer, Cameron frowned.

      “Cilla …” he began and his eyes narrowed. “What the hell kind of a name is that anyway?”

      She glared at him. “This coming from a man whose name means crooked nose? Seriously? My full name is Cecilia but my friends call me Cilla. Do stick to Cecilia, though,” she said grimly.

      He waved his finger in front of her face. “Cilla, Cecilia … whatever. You are not to touch my horses. I don’t want you putting any bloody spells on them, understand? You’ve wasted your time, my time and …”

      A loud noise came from within the stables and the next moment one of the hands stormed out, muttering and cursing.

      “What happened?” Ken asked.

      “That animal is mad. Mad. I’m not going back into his stall.” Completely out of breath he sagged against the stable wall.

      “Two of our workers are already in hospital and here’s another one who refuses to work with Bravo. But apparently the owner knows something none of us do and he can solve the problem on his own.” He took Cilla’s arm. “I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time, Cilla. Let me walk you to your car.”

      Cilla glared at Cameron. “I don’t cast spells, Mr Rahl. I can help you, even though I’m a woman. But it’s your choice.”

      “You want to whisper to the horse? Fine. Let’s see what you can do with that insane animal.” Sarcasm dripped from every word. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

      Cilla ignored him. What an insolent man. There is nothing she’d like more than to turn around and go home, but she didn’t want to disappoint Ken’s son. He was the one who’d told his father about her skills after an incident at school where she managed to calm down a stray dog.

      She turned her back on Cameron, blocking out all the negative vibes coming from him and walked into the stable. The sooner she found out what the horse’s problem was, the sooner she could help him and leave this place. She would hopefully never have to see this man again.

      Cameron stared after the long-legged brunette, trying to catch his breath. It was as if someone had punched him in the gut. Forcefully. When Ken had mentioned a horse whisperer he’d pictured a thin, old woman in flowing clothes muttering nonsense. But then he’d turned around and saw Cilla. To call her beautiful was an understatement and for a few minutes, he couldn’t even get his tongue to work properly. She was a tall one, all leg and sexy as hell. Fortunately his mouth was shut at the time, otherwise he definitely would have drooled.

      A curtain of long, golden brown hair framed her face. Her skin was like porcelain. For one insane moment he’d wanted to touch her to find out whether she was real. But it was her eyes that nearly brought him to his knees. They were a hue of green that he’d never seen before, outlined by long, dark, dark lashes. Eyes that took in everything, saw right through him.

      And there was something in her eyes, recognition? Did he know her? Had he met her somewhere? Angrily, he shook his head. The bloody woman already had him tied up in knots and she hadn’t been on his farm ten minutes!

      This was exactly why he preferred to stay on his farm and not hook up with women on a regular basis like his brother did. They mess with a man’s head, something he’d witnessed first-hand when growing up.

      After his mother’s untimely death, his dad simply gave up living. His whole life had revolved around his wife and without her, he’d turned into a miserable human being. He had blamed the rest of the world for his misfortune, got rid of everything on the farm that reminded him of her and neglected his children.

      So no matter how beautiful this woman was or whether or not she could speak or sing to animals, he damn well didn’t want her on his farm.

      Inside the stable, Cilla stood quietly for a moment, trying to calm down. To be able to find out what was wrong with the stallion, she had to find her equilibrium, had to put everything that had just happened, out of her mind.

      This had never happened to her before. The man had upset her, disturbed her and she was agitated, distraught and plain angry, not only because he was probably the rudest man she’d ever met, but also because the mere sight of a man had never before played such havoc with her senses.

      She should go out with men, mingle with other people besides her colleagues like Imke had been pestering her to do for ages. Then she wouldn’t react like a sex-starved spinster when she met an attractive man.

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