didn’t know if she was just being friendly or if she was flirting with him. He’d been married for half of his twenties and part of his thirties, and even if he hadn’t been he’d worked almost every waking hour since he’d graduated, which meant he’d been out of the game for way too long. So darn long that he couldn’t even figure out if Jessica was interested or just being friendly.
“For the record, I’m pleased you’ve given up the whole island thing.”
She laughed. “Yeah?”
So much for not flirting. He’d even managed to throw a dumb joke in there, or at least his pitiful attempt at a joke.
“So tell me what it’s like being a banker,” she asked between mouthfuls.
Nathan refused to be drawn back into the past, to let himself think too much about what she’d just asked him. But Jessica knew nothing about what had happened; she was just asking an innocent question. It wasn’t her fault that just the mention of his past brought back memories so vivid, a gut-wrenching pain so deep, that it seemed like he could choke just trying to breath.
“In my first year one of the other interns died from staying awake almost 24/7 and working insane hours,” he told her, watching as her jaw physically dropped, mouth gaping open. “The poor guy was so fatigued, had worked a few days straight, and he had a heart attack.”
“You’re kidding me. Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I wish I was,” he said with a grimace. “The kind of industry I was in, it took a lot from plenty of us, but the game of what we do is so addictive that sometimes it takes something pretty major to jolt us out.”
Her eyebrows bunched together as she stared at him. “And a young guy dying didn’t alert you to the kind of job you were getting yourself into before you’d committed?”
Nathan shrugged. It was something he’d asked himself so many times after he’d lost his wife, but he knew the answer. The truth was that nothing could have made him give up his job back then—the money had been too good and he’d loved what he did each day—until he’d found his wife. He blinked a few times in fast succession, as if it would make the memories magically disappear. And the way his family were, their expectations; they had almost made his career decision for him. But he wasn’t about to talk to her about his family, because that would be going back in time to something else he was only too happy to forget.
“That’s why I’m here,” he told her. “It took me a while, years, but I finally realized that there was a life for me away from Mayfair. I just had to leave London to figure that out.” If only it hadn’t taken him so long. “I lost someone I loved, and it made me rethink—” he paused “—everything. But I know that if I was twenty-one all over again, nothing anyone could have said to me would have made a difference.”
Jessica’s face was soft, her expression kind as she watched him. “Sometimes it takes losing what we love to show us how much that person or thing meant to us in the first place,” she said, her voice low, almost husky. “I’ve spent my entire life looking up to the world’s best riders, and then when I finally achieved my dreams I lost everything.”
He didn’t know what to tell her, because nothing he could say would change how she felt. He still hadn’t come to terms with what had happened to him, which meant there was no way in hell she would in the near future, either.
“I bet every second person tells you that it’ll get better. That you’ll learn to deal with what’s happened.”
Jessica slowly nodded, running her fingertips across the wooden surface of the table. “The only way I’ll come to terms with what happened to me is when I’m out competing again.”
He sensed there was something else, that she was holding something back. Jessica was staring past him; he guessed she was looking through the window even though the light was fading fast and it was almost dark. She was keeping secrets, just like he was.
“And then there’s Teddy.”
Nathan knew instantly who she was talking about, because he’d read all the news stories about her when it had happened. She hadn’t mentioned her horse, so he hadn’t asked, but from the way she was biting down on her bottom lip, tears glinting in her eyes, he was guessing the outcome wasn’t good.
“Did he, ah, recover from his injuries in the end?” He tried not to grimace, worried he’d said the wrong thing and not wanting to upset her.
Jessica poured herself another glass of wine, sighing and taking a large sip before looking back up. “I’ll never be able to compete him again, but he means the world to me, Nathan. He deserves a retirement here on the farm, going for a ride every now and again if he’s not too stiff, even just being in the field with a few of the youngsters to keep them company.” Her voice was shaky. “I just want him with me.”
“So where is he?”
Her eyebrows pulled together, frustration clear on her face. “He’s still stuck in the UK. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to raise the money to bring him back now, which means I’ll—” she closed her eyes for a moment, taking a visibly deep breath “—have to have him put down. He’s worthless to anyone else, and I won’t be able to afford the livery for long, if at all.”
Nathan could feel her pain, could see how upset she was talking about an animal she so clearly loved. He reached for her across the table, covered her hand with his before even thinking about what he was doing. Nathan squeezed her fingers, wondering what the hell he was doing as he looked into her eyes. It was almost painful just touching her, connecting with another human being, but he forced himself not to pull away.
“How much do you need to fly him home?” he asked.
She shifted her hand beneath his but didn’t remove it. “Too much,” she replied, voice soft.
Nathan slowly took his fingers from hers, sliding them away and reaching for his beer. But that wasn’t why he’d withdrawn—her skin, so soft and warm, was making him think how much he wanted to keep touching her. How much he’d missed being with a woman, or even just being close to any other person.
“Find out how much and I’ll take care of it.”
Her eyes went wide, round like saucers. “No.” She shook her head like she was trying to convince herself otherwise. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” If it meant that much to her, he’d pay the bill without a second thought. “Your granddad meant a lot to me, so just think of it as my way of repaying him.”
“No matter how much he did for you, he wouldn’t let you spend thirty grand on bringing a retired horse home.”
Nathan chuckled and raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t know how much it cost.”
She shrugged. “That’s the rough price, but honestly? There’s no way I could ever afford it, not now, and I’m not taking handouts from anyone.” Jessica sighed. “Besides, this place won’t even be here then. I’m going to have to sell, which means I won’t even have somewhere to keep him or any of the others. I have to face the cold, hard facts.”
Nathan stared long and hard at the grim set of her mouth and the sad look in her eyes. It was almost like looking at a reflection of himself, of the way he
