The Black Sheep and the Hidden Beauty. Donna Kauffman

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СКАЧАТЬ don’t need a bridle thing?”

      “Not with Petunia.”

      His expression was wry. “You gave me the easiest horse here, didn’t you? Did you think I’d be that bad?”

      “I thought you’d prefer things not to be any more difficult than they had to be.”

      “Well, you might have a point there.”

      She tried not to smile, tried to think business, but as she closed the distance between them and walked around to where he stood beside Petunia, she felt a pull just this side of magnetic. Being close to him made it hard to think clearly. She shifted her focus to the horse, and only the horse, and pointed to the stirrup. “Hold the pommel with your left hand, left foot in the stirrup, and up you go. Right leg over the back end, one smooth lift as you push up on your left leg.” She held her hand up when he went to do as she’d directed. “Talk to her first.”

      If she thought he’d roll his eyes or give her grief, she was wrong. Instead, that wry curve reappeared at the corner of his mouth as he casually leaned forward and stroked his hand down the side of Petunia’s neck. “What?” he asked, amusement clear in his tone.

      She realized she was staring at his hand, the way he was stroking the horse’s neck, and quickly pulled her gaze away.

      But not before he said, “I’m not entirely green. I do understand the benefits of putting my partner at ease before I, you know…” A twinkle entered his eyes that was either a trick of the sun descending in the sky, just low enough now to send its rays slanting into the stable interior…or utterly wicked. She went with the former, but only until he added, “Mount up.”

      Had he really said that? Or had she just mentally filled in the blank? She resisted the urge to fan herself. Or look at his hands again.

      “You did say we were going to be partners, right?”

      “What?” she asked, faintly.

      “Petunia and I,” he clarified, clearly enjoying himself. “You said I should think of it as a partnership.”

      “Yes. Right. Exactly.”

      With that half smile playing around his mouth, and that devilish light still in his dark eyes, he turned his attention to the horse, leaning forward and whispering something too low for her to make out.

      Petunia’s ears twitched forward and back and she dipped her head a little, as if agreeing with whatever he’d said. She was a sweetheart of a horse, easily the most agreeable mare on the farm, but it seemed to Elena that there was a bond forming there that she didn’t normally see, especially with first-timers.

      “Probably seduces any member of the opposite sex, without even thinking about it,” she grumbled beneath her breath.

      “I’m sorry, what?” he asked, ever-so-innocently while looking anything but.

      “I said you don’t want to think about it too much, just do it.”

      “What do you know—that’s my motto, too.” And then he flashed her a grin that shot her pulse directly into the red zone, turned, and popped up on Petunia’s back as if he’d been riding his entire life.

      She scowled. In some ways, he probably had.

      She looked up at him, shielding her eyes against the setting sun, to find him staring back at her from behind a pair of black sunglasses he’d slid on.

      He touched the brim of an imaginary Stetson. “Once around the ring, ma’am?” His southern drawl was atrocious.

      And adorable as hell. She wouldn’t have thought adorable was going to be an issue where he was concerned. As it was turning out, everything was going to be an issue with him. Breathing was an issue.

      Rather than respond directly, she stepped up and showed him how to use the looped rope as a set of reins. “Balance your weight, center it. Feet in the stirrups.” For the first time, she noticed he was wearing rather beat-up hiking boots.

      He must have noticed the direction of her gaze, because he said, “Sorry, probably inappropriate footwear.”

      “No,” she said, “they’re fine, I just—” She broke off as she realized what she was going to say, which was that she was surprised he owned a pair of worn-out anything. He was always so immaculately and sharply dressed. But that was a leading comment she definitely didn’t need to make. “Never mind.”

      “What?”

      “Nothing. For what you’re doing, they’ll be fine. If at some point you find yourself doing any amount of trail riding, you might want to invest in a good pair of boots.” She glanced up. “Western. Although I could teach you how to ride English if you prefer.”

      “Which is easier?”

      “Western, like you are now.”

      “Then let’s go with that.” He smiled a little. “For now.”

      With the attention to detail she’d noticed in the clothing she’d seen him in so far, she could easily imagine him in a nicely cut, proper English riding jacket. For certain, those tight English riding pants would show off…well, what wouldn’t they show off was more like it. Not that he couldn’t do some damage in jeans and chaps, it’s just that he wasn’t the scruffy cowboy type. Far more lord of the manor. With a little Latin flair.

      “Okay, now what?”

      Now I need a fan, and something cold to drink, and an extended period of getting myself seriously under some kind of control, she thought. She motioned to the rope. “Hold it with some slack. Click a little, with your tongue, then nudge her with your heels or knees. She knows what to do.”

      “How do I steer?”

      “Tug a little on the left rein for left, right for right. Pull back and release to slow her down and stop. You don’t have to yank, just a steady pulling motion until she slows down to where you want her, or comes to a complete stop.”

      “Sounds simple enough.”

      She smiled. “Should be. Let’s see how you do.”

      First, he leaned forward and spoke gently to Petunia, making her ears twitch forward and back. Then, he straightened and, after a gentle nudging with his heels, they moved smoothly along the fence line. She wished she could say she was surprised, but by now, she wasn’t.

      “You’ll get used to her rolling gait. Just keep your weight centered, stay relaxed, knees with even tension, which is to say, very little. She’ll be very sensitive to the tension she feels in your body, which is mainly telegraphed by how tightly you hold the reins, and the pressure you exert with your legs against her sides.”

      Not that he appeared to need this little bit of instruction.

      She let them go around the ring once at a steady walk, then said, “Okay, now, slow her down. You can pull back slightly on the reins.”

      He pulled Petunia to a stop right beside her.

      “Pretty СКАЧАТЬ