“I didn’t hear you come up. I…I guess I was busy thinking…I have to finish shoeing Biding, and it’s getting pretty close to noon already, so maybe…”
The lame attempt she was about to make to wriggle out of lunch died on her lips when she realized that Jenna had a companion.
“Audrey, dear, I’d like you to meet Shane Preston, our nephew. He’s here from Australia. We decided to take a quick tour of the stables before lunch.”
Audrey blinked, as if that could change the scene in front of her. Raising the back of her wrist to her forehead, she wiped away a sheen of perspiration that now was due to more than physical exertion.
“Shane, this lovely girl is Audrey Griffin. You’ll get to know each other better later, of course.”
His brows spiked over the word “lovely.” Audrey saw it and was torn between wanting to run home to change her clothes and the desire to chuck a horseshoe at his head.
“Good to meet you, Audrey.” Dressed in a pristine suit on a scorching Kentucky day, the man smiled with just a quirk of his lips. His smooth Australian accent underscored the sardonic expression.
So the stranger in the bar, the one who looked as if he belonged on Mt. Rushmore or some other wonder of the world, was a Preston. It figured.
Handsome and strong like the Thoroughbreds they raised, the Prestons possessed physical gifts in extra measure. Melanie, a jockey, was a tiny thing, but she sparkled like a diamond and seemed as durable. The Preston men were all life-size Ken dolls—rock solid, absurdly handsome and short on chatter.
Aussie Ken was no exception.
“Nice to meet you, too.” Audrey ducked her sweaty head, hoping he did not recognize her as the girl who had made goo-goo eyes at him last night. And then she realized he was holding out his hand.
She stuck hers out, too, a reflex reaction that she lamented when they touched callus to callus. His palm was much tougher than she had imagined.
Unfortunately, he looked surprised, too. He’d taken her hand gently; she’d automatically used her customary grip, practically squeezing the life out of him.
She meant to let go immediately, but for the briefest of moments, the stable that was the center of her life faded away; the snuffling of horses and mucking of stalls, the scents of hay and manure; horses and humans were replaced by a blanket-like silence.
She realized she was staring, her palm locked with his. Last night’s curiosity about his eyes was satisfied: they were the intense blue of marbles and morning skies.
As her heart beat painfully in her throat, Audrey remembered her comment to Seamus—that she was going to find someone of her own species.
Recalling his beautiful companion from the night before, she told herself the truth: This man is not your species. He looks better, he smells better, and he keeps better company.
When she noted the humor in his gaze, she let go of his hand as if it had burst into flame. Setting her jaw, Audrey gave him a tough, take-no-prisoners glare.
From the age of nine until well into her teens, she’d been sick and skinny and deathly pale beneath her freckles. In her experience, people reacted to sick children by coddling or pitying or pretending not to notice them. Most of the time, she’d felt out of step with her peers, so she’d trailed her dad around the stables and got to know horses better than people. She’d also learned to act a lot tougher than she was, turning into a real snot when she sensed disapproval or condescension.
So now she embraced the dirt and the calluses and the perspiration, her styleless clothing and the lack of makeup, and sent her gaze on a lazy trip down his body and back up again. Sniffing as if he was the one who smelled bad, she drawled, “You sure are dressed pretty for a stroll through a stable. Hope you got the memo about watching where you step.”
Good teeth showed in a calculating smile. “I stand forewarned. And thank you for the compliment.” He inclined his head. “I have a great admiration, too, for people like you who put so much care into their… horses’ grooming.” He’d paused just long enough to make his inference crystal clear.
Clear to Audrey, at any rate. Jenna didn’t seem to notice. Before Audrey could think of a comeback, Jenna said, “Audrey has a natural touch with horses. She’s an excellent farrier.”
Aussie Ken’s brows rose. Either he was surprised or doubtful, or he didn’t know what a farrier was. She chose the last interpretation just for the fun of it.
“That means I shoe the nice ponies.” She offered the explanation kindly, as if she were talking to a toddler.
She managed to curl the edges of his smile. “I’m familiar with the term.”
A calculating light gleamed behind the blue eyes, and Audrey felt her anticipation spike as she wondered whether he’d give her a decent run for her money.
“It’s an interesting occupation for a—” Once more he paused, this time furrowing his brow as if he couldn’t quite find the right word. “—woman.”
Dang!
Round One to Aussie Ken.
“I think we’ll let you get on with your work now, Audrey.” Becoming aware of the crackle between her nephew and her employee, but not at all sure what to make of it, Jenna verbally stepped between them. “You two can get to know each other better at lunch. Twelve o’clock sharp.”
Taking Shane’s arm and giving Audrey a bemused look over her shoulder, Jenna guided her nephew on through the stable.
Short of a natural disaster, it looked as if she was having lunch with the Prestons and their nephew. Audrey expected her stomach to clench, but felt it growl instead. Bantering with him must have burned up a few calories.
Absently patting Biding’s neck, Audrey chewed her lip. Over the years, she had carved out a place for herself among the largely male population of Quest by learning to compete. At pool, at darts, with words—she gave as good as she got. Often better.
She felt a fluttering in her blood that made her feel more alive than she had all year. What harm could come from trading a few quips? Putting the pretty boy in his place? Shane Preston was a challenge, and her life up to this point had pretty much addicted her to a dare.
A grin stretched across her lips. Picking up her tools, Audrey gave the gray filly a pat on her rump. “Okay, Biding, let’s get this shoe on the road. It seems I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”
Chapter Three
Audrey was showered and dressed in a fresh pair of jeans when she lifted the brass doorknocker that reminded her of a ring through a bull’s nose. She’d plaited her hair in a French braid this time—simple enough as it hung down her back, but a nod to the fact that she was dining somewhere more upscale than the inside of a stall.
Audrey smiled as the Prestons’ housekeeper answered the door and directed her to the patio that lay beyond the elegant white French doors off the dining room.
She had brought Seamus with her, and he followed her as far as the dining room, which was set with a stunning array of white-on-white china, and crystal that
