she caught the scent of his clean, healthy skin. He wore a light aftershave. It smelled of citrus, of sun and cedar trees.
She should have said, “Thank you,” and led the horse out to ride. But he drew her so strongly. She found herself instigating an actual conversation. “You’re not Montedoran.”
“How did you guess?” Softly. With humor and a nice touch of irony.
“You’re American.”
“That’s right.” He looked at her steadily, those eyes of his so blue they seemed almost otherworldly. “I grew up in California, in Los Angeles. In Silver Lake and East L.A.” He was watching her in that way he had: with total concentration. A wry smile stretched the corners of his mouth. “You have no idea where Silver Lake is, or East L.A., do you? Ma’am.” He was teasing her.
She felt a prickle of annoyance, which only increased her interest in him. “I have a basic understanding, yes. I’ve been to Southern California. I have a second cousin there. He and his family live in Bel Air.”
“Bel Air is a long way from East L.A.”
She leaned into Kajar, cupping her hand to his far cheek, resting her head against his long, fine neck. The gelding didn’t object, only made a soft snuffling sound. “A long distance, you mean?”
One strong shoulder lifted in a shrug. “It’s not so far in miles. However, Bel Air has some of the priciest real estate in the world—kind of like here in Montedoro. East L.A.? Not so much.”
She didn’t want to talk about real estate. Or class differences. And she needed to be on her way. She went as far as to stop leaning on the horse—but then, what do you know? She opened her mouth and another question popped out. “Do your parents still live there?”
“No. My father was killed working construction when I was twelve. My mother died of the flu when I was twenty-one.”
Sympathy for him moved within her, twining with the excitement she felt at his nearness. Kajar tossed his head. She turned to the gelding, reaching up to stroke his elegant face, settling him. And then she said to Noah, “That is too sad.”
“It is what it is.”
She faced the groom fully again. “It must have been horrible for you.”
“I learned to depend on myself.”
“Do you have brothers and sisters?”
“A younger sister. Lucy is twenty-three.”
She wanted to ask his age—but somehow that seemed such an intimate question. There were fine lines at the corners of his eyes. He had to be at least thirty. “What brings you to Montedoro?”
He seemed faintly amused. “You’re full of questions, Your Highness.”
She answered honestly. “It’s true. I’m being very nosy.” And it’s time for me to go. But she didn’t go. She kept right on being as nosy as before. “How long have you been here, in my country?”
“Not long at all.”
“Do you plan to stay on?”
“That depends....”
“On?”
He didn’t answer, only held her gaze.
She felt the loveliest, most effervescent sensation. Like champagne sliding, cool and fizzy, down her throat. “You love horses.”
“Yes, I do. And you’re wondering how a guy from East L.A. learned to handle horses....”
Tell him that you really do have to go. “I have been wondering exactly that.”
“When I was eighteen, I went to work for a man who owned a horse ranch in the Santa Monica Mountains. He taught me a lot. And I learned fast. He kept warm bloods. Hanoverians and Morgans, mostly.”
“Excellent breeds.” She nodded in approval. “Strong, steady and handsome. Not nearly so testy and sensitive as an Akhal-Teke.” All her horses were Tekes. Akhal-Tekes were called the “heavenly horses,” the oldest breed on earth. Originating in the rugged deserts of Turkmenistan and northern Iran, the Teke was swift and temperamental and very tough. Both Genghis Khan and Alexander the Great chose Akhal-Tekes to carry them into battle.
“There is nothing like an Akhal-Teke,” he said. “I hope to own one someday.”
“An admirable goal.”
He chuckled and the sound seemed to slide like a sweet caress across her skin. “Aren’t you going to tell me that I’ll never be able to afford one?”
“That would be rude. And besides, you seem a very determined sort of person. I would imagine that if you want something strongly enough, you’ll find a way to have it.” He said nothing, only regarded her steadily through those beautiful eyes. She was struck with the sense that there was much more going on here than she understood. “What is it?” she asked finally, when the silence had stretched thin.
“I am determined.”
She found herself staring at his mouth. The shape of it—the slight bow of his top lip, the fullness below—was so intriguing. She wondered what it might feel like, that mouth of his touching hers. It would be so very easy to step in close, go on tiptoe and claim a kiss....
Stop. No. Wrong. Exactly the sort of foolish, bold, unprincess-like behavior she was supposed to be avoiding at all costs.
“I...” She was still staring at his lips.
“Yeah?” He moved an inch closer.
She clutched the reins tighter. “...really must be on my way.”
He instantly stepped back and she wished that he hadn’t—which was not only contrary but completely unacceptable. “Ride safe, ma’am.”
She nodded, pressing her lips together to keep them from trembling. Then she clucked her tongue at Kajar and turned for the wide-open stable door.
* * *
Once again he was gone when she returned from her ride. That day, she worked with a couple of the yearlings and put one of the show jumpers through his paces. Later she went home to shower and change.
In the afternoon, she met with the planning committee for next year’s Grand Champions Tour. Montedoro would host the sixth leg of the tour down at the harbor show grounds in June. Through the endless meeting, she tried very hard not to think of blue eyes, not to remember the deep, stirring sound of a certain voice.
That night, alone in her bed, she dreamed she went riding with Noah. She was on Yasmine and he rode the bay stallion Orion. They stopped in a meadow of wildflowers and talked, though when she woke she couldn’t remember a thing they had said.
It was a very tame dream. Not once did they touch, and there was none of the heated tension she had felt when she’d actually been near him. In the dream they laughed together. They were like longtime companions who knew each other well.
She
