“You seem to be heading in that direction.”
“Annabelle, you’re a good horsewoman. You have to have a little faith in yourself.”
“I do. It’s gravity I’m not so keen on.”
She didn’t understand. Somewhere between the last time she’d seen him and today, Shane had lost his mind. He’d started talking about what he’d been working on for the festival and how Khatar would rise up on his back legs right before the male sacrifice. Which sounded great. Until she’d realized she was supposed to be on the horse’s back when he did it.
“Do you know how high up I am already?” she asked.
“You’ll be fine.”
“You’re right. Because I’m not going to do it.”
Shane had removed his hat. It sat on the top of a post. So she could see his whole face, including the amusement dancing in his dark eyes.
“Just once. To try.”
“No!”
She should have known something was up when she’d seen that Khatar was already saddled. Half the time she rode the horse bareback.
“Think of the children,” he said quietly. “The children who don’t get to read all winter. And the shut-ins. Albert and Albus.”
“Albert and Alfred,” she corrected automatically. “You’re not going to make me feel guilty.”
“Want to bet?”
She glared at him, but dammit, he was right. She did have a responsibility and a big finish to the dance would help bring in more money. Maybe even get people talking enough that they wanted to see the dance again next year, thereby ensuring an income stream.
Her already upset stomach made a few threatening noises, but stayed in place. She glanced around, looking for escape. Only there wasn’t anywhere to go.
“I should have said I’d ride Priscilla,” she murmured. “That would be easier.”
“You’re going to be fine. Khatar will do all the work. You’re just along for the ride. What if you like it?”
“Why do you suddenly sound like a teenage boy trying to convince me to have sex?”
He laughed. “That would be your twisted mind at work, not mine. Come on. Grab hold of the saddle. Use both hands, if you want. You’ll feel better. Just don’t let the reins hang. We don’t want Khatar tripping.”
“You got that right,” she said, reaching for the front of the saddle. She gripped it as tightly as she could, then squeezed her legs for good measure and tried not to close her eyes.
“Good.” Shane turned his attention to the horse. “All right, big guy. You can do it.”
He led the horse through the steps, then moved back. “Tug back and up. Like I showed you. But not too hard.”
She whimpered as she did as he instructed. Khatar took two steps to the right, then left, finishing by rising up on his rear legs.
It was as if the back of the world fell away. One second gravity was her friend, the next she was in danger of tumbling out of the saddle, most likely to her death. She did her best not to scream, while holding on with hands and thighs.
Khatar hung suspended for what felt like six or eight years before landing lightly on all four feet, then taking a slight bow. When he was still, she released the breath she’d been holding and leaned forward to hug him.
“You’re very talented,” she told the horse. “Let’s never do that again.”
Shane walked over and patted Khatar’s shoulder, then reached for her.
“See,” he said triumphantly. “Nothing to it. You did good.”
“Yes, not getting dead is always a victory.” She swung her leg over the side of the horse and slid to the ground.
When her feet hit, her knees buckled. Shane caught her easily and drew her against him. She hung on, both because touching him was always nice and also because she was still shaking.
“You okay?” he asked, frowning at her.
“What part of ‘I was scared’ is confusing to you?”
He touched her cheek. “I meant it, Annabelle. I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you.”
“Sure. You say that now.”
She stopped talking, mostly because she couldn’t remember the rest of what she wanted to say.
His dark gaze locked with hers. She knew he was going to kiss her about two heartbeats before his mouth touched hers. His lips claimed hers with a gentle insistence. Immediately heat surged through her, making her toes curl in her boots and her insides start to melt. His arms came around her, drawing her close, and she went willingly into his embrace.
She loved the feel of all his muscles, she thought hazily, tilting her head and letting her eyes drift closed. He was a man who worked hard for a living and it showed. His strength protected those he cared about.
A really interesting intellectual subject for later, she thought as his tongue touched her bottom lip and she parted for him. But right now, the kissing was far more important.
Summer Nights (Fool's Gold #8)
Susan Mallery's books
- A Christmas Bride
- Just One Kiss
- Chasing Perfect (Fool's Gold #1)
- Almost Perfect (Fool's Gold #2)
- Sister of the Bride (Fool's Gold #2.5)
- Finding Perfect (Fool's Gold #3)
- Only Mine (Fool's Gold #4)
- Only Yours (Fool's Gold #5)
- Only His (Fool's Gold #6)
- Only Us (Fool's Gold #6.1)
- Almost Summer (Fool's Gold #6.2)