“I do. I’m just here for a while…to improve my riding.”
He tilted his head and she caught a hint of puzzlement in his intelligent eyes. Even to her, the reason sounded lame. “Thanks for helping me,” she added quickly. “I’ve got to get back to the barn. Maybe now I’ll be approved to ride on the track.”
“I’m sure you will.” He gestured at the dirt trail winding over the ridge. “My horse is stabled in the cowshed. Is my number on your phone?”
“Scottie’s Massage? It sure is.” She smiled, and even though it was late, she wanted to linger. “I was expecting a massage.”
“Then I won’t dash your expectations. Call me when you’re ready to eat, and we’ll go from there.”
The undercurrent in his voice made her grip the reins, but she wasn’t quite ready to leave. She had more questions, like where they would meet and when, but he reached over, gently squeezed her shoulder, then turned and trotted toward the ridge.
Her horse tried to follow, and she certainly understood the urge. She’d like to follow Scott too. Her skin still tingled from his touch.
Sighing, she headed back to the barn. At least, she’d see him tonight and wouldn’t have to wait until April. From a more practical aspect, she hoped he knew the cafeteria hours. Probably, since he taught at the cowshed, but it was obvious they’d both miss lunch, and she didn’t want to skip supper too. However, ‘call when you’re ready to eat’ sounded rather vague, and she didn’t want to miss him.
She adjusted her reins, trying to keep her horse from jigging home, but the gray was alone again and desperate for company. He gave an ear-ringing neigh, and they both glanced toward the ridge. She thought Scott’s horse called back. However, her mount remained distraught and despite his hour of exercise, he pranced the entire way home.
By the time they reached the barn, sweat lathered his neck. She checked her watch, realizing she might miss her entire lunch. It would take at least half an hour to cool him out and she had to look after Barney too. Still, it had most definitely been worth it.
Smiling, she dismounted and gave her horse’s slick neck a reassuring pat. Poor fellow. If she were his groom, she’d take him for long walks. Show him that his world wouldn’t collapse when he was alone. It must be horrible to always need buddies. That was the good thing about a solitary life—it didn’t hurt so much when people left.
“Is this the despicable way you treat animals when I’m not around?”
Megan wheeled toward her teacher’s angry voice. Lydia’s eyes flashed and her mouth clenched so tightly that white dots appeared around the edges.
“It’s more of an emotional sweat,” Megan said. “He’s nervous when he’s alone. I’m going to bathe and walk him now.”
Lydia jammed her hands on her hips and stalked closer. “And who gave you permission to ride him?”
Peter hurried from the barn, stepping between Lydia and Megan. “I wanted to switch,” he said. “Edzo has so much energy and with the short lesson today he needed more trotting. Megan was kind enough to offer.”
“Were you present a few weeks ago,” Lydia snapped, “when I stressed no switching horses?”
Megan actually wasn’t present, but she didn’t think ‘no’ was the answer Lydia was looking for, and she wasn’t going to let Peter shoulder the blame.
“The switch was my fault,” she said. “I needed to practice two-pointing, and wanted to work on some of the other good stuff you taught.”
“But you stayed out by yourself.” Lydia’s voice turned icy. “Edzo is difficult to ride alone. You could have been hurt. And the school can’t afford any more awkward incidents.”
“Awkward?” Megan’s head jerked up. She forgot about looking contrite, forgot about everything but her mother’s anguish. “You mean Joey disappearing? You call that an awkward incident?”
“He didn’t disappear,” Lydia said. “He chose to remain in Mexico. And you’re suspended from my class the remainder of the week. That should give you plenty of time to practice on the Equicizer. Now go cool out that poor animal.”
Lydia jerked away, her back ramrod stiff.
Peter groaned. “She came back about twenty minutes ago looking very disappointed. I knew we were in deep shit.”
“I’m sorry, Peter.”
“It’s all right.” He gave a crooked smile and helped remove the saddle. “Lydia likes me. And I’m sorry too. I didn’t realize Edzo was a psycho when he was alone. I’ve only ridden him in a group.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Besides I wasn’t alone. Someone ponied me.”
“Well, why didn’t you tell her that? She might not have been so pissed.”
Megan shrugged and led Edzo into the barn. She didn’t want to cause trouble for Scott. If Lydia knew they had been on the track without permission, she might have been doubly mad. Besides, Lydia was obviously touchy about Joey’s disappearance and that knowledge was worth the price of punishment.
Still, four days on the mechanical horse would be torture. Just thinking of the Equicizer made her muscles groan. Lydia had surveillance cameras in the fitness room too so there’d be no slacking.
“There’s only ten minutes before the cafeteria closes,” Peter called, angling toward the barn door. “You’re not going to make lunch. Want me grab you something?”
“Thanks. An apple will keep me going until supper.” And then she’d see Scott again. Despite being reamed out by Lydia, anticipation left her smiling.
Edzo nudged her shoulder, as though reminding that he was the real reason Scott had even appeared in the field.
“And please bring a second apple for Edzo,” she called.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Megan paused by the cafeteria entrance, studying the boisterous supper crowd. The smell of chicken thickened the air, and her stomach rumbled, protesting at going all afternoon with only an apple. There were lots of familiar faces but no Tami, who was probably still in town with Megan’s truck.
And no Scott.
She dug out her phone and pulled up his number, hoping he’d show soon. She was famished.
He answered on the second ring.
“Hi, Scott.” She waved at Peter who was chewing and talking to tablemates with equal enthusiasm. “Are you ready to eat soon? I’m at the cafeteria.”
“Good,” Scott said, and his deep voice made her stomach kick with another type of hunger. “Wait outside. I’ll pick you up.”
Puzzled, she stepped back outside. I’ll pick you up? But two minutes later, he cruised up in his silver Mercedes. The cracked bumper and broken headlight looked out of place against the elegant lines of his car.
He leaned over the passenger’s seat and pushed open the door. “Hop in. It’s not far but directions are complicated.”
The car was immaculate, smelling of leather, spice and man, and she settled into the buttery soft seat. His forearm rested on the center console, only inches from her leg. Dark hairs dusted the muscled ridges. He wore a rugged looking sports watch and old scars crisscrossed his knuckles. He had beautiful fingers. No rings. She pulled her gaze away.
“Is there another place to eat?” she asked, her voice slightly husky.
He smiled. “Same cafeteria food but different kitchen.”
They passed a rectangular gatehouse, empty but rather imposing with its black grilled windows. The drive wound behind Garrett’s house and led to a beautiful Spanish-style villa with ornate gates.
She slipped from the car and followed him up the cobbled walkway, her eyes widening. This place was like an oasis after the dust and dirt of the barns. Colorful bougainvillea lined the grass, kept lush by an elaborate sprinkler system. Lemon and kumquat trees grew in bright ceramic pots. A soothing waterfall bubbled, accompanied by the faint sound of wind chimes.
“Wow,” she finally said. “This is almost as nice as my dorm.”
His low chuckle was so sexy her skin tingled. He pressed a remote entry pad and pushed open the front door. “You’ll have to show
me your dorm sometime.”
The intimacy in his voice made her stomach clench. “Sure.” And that was all she could manage. Her mouth was so dry, her brain didn’t seem connected to her tongue.
She pretended to admire the Spanish tiles. The villa was beautiful, but right now she was too conscious of his proximity. Heat radiated from him in waves, turning her body hyper-conscious.
“How long is this cow program?” she managed. “I don’t know much about it.”
“Me neither. I’m teaching a new course at the jock school.”
“Oh.” She twisted, blinking with sudden comprehension. “The addictions course?”
“That’s right.” He shut the door, but remained close, his voice softening. “And I’m very glad you’re not taking that class.”
“Why?”
His thumb skimmed her jaw and he tilted her chin, his gray eyes darkening as he stared at her mouth. Her heart hammered. He was going to kiss her and she wanted him to. She really wanted him to. And then his mouth slanted over hers.
His lips were hard and firm, persuasive but patient, as though they had all the time in the world and he was willing to wait. But she didn’t make him wait long. She arched upward. His arms tightened. She rose higher on her toes, her mouth opening. Oh, wow. She loved his feel, his taste, his smell, how he seemed to be memorizing her mouth.
He raised his head way too soon. “Because an instructor shouldn’t be doing this with a student,” he murmured.
Her breath came out in a shuddery sigh and she couldn’t even remember her question. She wanted to drag his head back to her mouth. Didn’t want that smoking kiss to stop. His eyes were on her face now and he wasn’t even doing anything, just trailing his thumb along her collarbone. Yet her body had turned all quivery.
She didn’t care about the instructor thing. Wasn’t even a real student. But of course, he’d be worried about his job. She didn’t want Lydia giving him a hard time. Maybe he wouldn’t have invited her for supper if he knew she was in his class.
Too bad though because their bodies fit together so well. She liked being in his arms, liked the possessive feel of his hand against the hollow of her back, the slight roughness of his fingers. Already tiny sparks of electricity sensitized her skin. But students shouldn’t date instructors. A few more kisses like that and who knew where they’d end up. She certainly didn’t want him to lose his job.
“I am in your class though,” she admitted, her voice thick with regret. “I missed the first day.”
“You’re in my class? Damn.” But he didn’t sound very concerned. He slid his hand beneath her hair, that big thumb still stroking the hollow below her ear. He tilted her head, his eyes so dark now they seemed a different shade of gray.
His head swooped and this time he didn’t deliver a restrained parlor kiss. His hungry mouth covered hers, inhaling and then drinking her in.
Her arms tightened over his shoulders, her nipples prickling against the hard ridges of his chest, while his tongue did a slow erotic dance, mating with hers, making her sizzle.
She could feel his belt buckle, his zipper, his obvious erection. Her heart hammered and she fought to stay cool. Relationships caused pain, and one-night stands weren’t her style. But her body screamed for one now. And maybe it wouldn’t only be one night.
Heck, it wasn’t even night. The sun still shone. They were supposed to be having a simple supper, and she’d barely made it two feet past his door. In another minute, she was going to hook an ankle around his muscled thigh…and tomorrow she’d cringe from embarrassment.
I can’t do this.
He immediately lifted his mouth, as though sensing her ambivalence. “Food is in the kitchen,” he said, his voice husky. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” she managed, but her voice sounded unfamiliar, and she couldn’t meet his eyes. He probably knew she was starving for something else. “Can’t wait to eat,” she added, trying to salvage a shred of dignity.
He eased back a few inches but kept an arm looped around her waist, so relaxed that her self-consciousness eased. Maybe he didn’t realize how out of control she’d been.
Her heart still raced but, then again, so did his. He’d tucked her against the left side of his chest and she could hear its drumming, although his hand on her neck was still slow, still assured, and rather nice.
She let out a tiny sigh, relaxing enough to splay her hand over his arm and enjoy the rumble of his voice.
“We have chicken marsala or fettuccine,” he was saying, “both fresh from the cafeteria.”
“I didn’t see either of those on the whiteboard.” She cleared her throat. “You must get a special menu.”
“Maybe. It’s a weight watchers’ paradise over there.” His easy chuckle restored her feelings of normalcy. He seemed as relaxed now as he’d been when they were riding. “I turned down the no-sugar Jello,” he added with a mischievous grin.
She and Tami always joked about the Jello, and she smiled back. His gaze settled on her mouth then jerked away. Taking her hand, he guided her beneath the gracious archway and into a bright kitchen that hinted of chicken and basil.
He lifted the cover from a silver serving tray while keeping such an easy discourse about the menu, she felt completely at ease. Her eyes widened at the succulent chicken and rice, complete with a colorful Greek salad. It was hard to believe this feast came from the cafeteria.
She murmured a suitable comment. The odd huskiness in her voice had disappeared and now her mouth watered. She was definitely going for the chicken. She settled into the tall chair he’d pulled out, relieved they were eating in the kitchen and not his formal dining room. She wasn’t prepared for an elegant dinner. Had been expecting the cafeteria, not this luxurious villa. It was apparent the school held Scott in high esteem.
“How long have you known Garrett?” she asked, as he smoothly poured two glasses of wine.
“Since first grade, when his parents bought the ranch next to us.”
“I see.” She glanced around the gourmet kitchen with the state-of-the art appliances and six-burner stove. Beyond the patio door, a pool glistened. A hot tub sat on the far right, next to a bar and an intimate fire pit. One class for all this? It didn’t make sense.
She studied him over the rim of her glass, trying to recall Tami’s comments about the addictions class. She hadn’t paid much attention to instructors and courses and credits. At the time, it simply hadn’t mattered. She was almost certain Addictions 101 was a new class, but maybe Scott taught something else. Maybe he’d taught Joey. Maybe he knew something about that ill-fated trip?
Her hand quivered. She set her glass on the table, her fingers clutching the stem. “Did you teach here over the last nine months?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level.
“No, this is my first visit.” His gaze flickered over her glass, and it was clear he didn’t miss much. “Would you like a different wine?”
“Oh, no. This is great.” She picked up her glass again, relief tempered by disappointment. He didn’t know anything about Joey, although maybe her brother wouldn’t have disappeared if Scott had been around. He seemed so level, so trustworthy, so…hunky.
“You came here just to teach one course?” she asked, corralling her wayward thoughts.
“That’s right. I had some surgery and have to take it easy for a bit. Let’s eat.”
Clearly, he was reserved, but in a polite way. And the food was superb. She couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed a meal so much. Or relaxed so quickly with such an attractive man. He moved competently in the kitchen, even surprising her with a dessert loaded with chocolate and pecans.
Her eyes widened. “Gosh. My roommate and I drive thirty miles for forbidden stuff like this.”
“Yes. Fortunately for me.” His grin flashed. “Not only did you haul me out of the ditch, but I seem to recall you offered one of your chocolate bars. I owe you.”
She shot him a cautious smile. Perhaps this meal was mainly about payba
ck and the attraction was one way. But even that concern faded as the chocolate melted in her mouth. “This is probably contraband,” she said, savoring the sweetness, “but it’s delicious. How’d you get it?”
“The cook offered to make something special.”
She almost choked. She couldn’t imagine the dour-faced cook making that offer. Only yesterday she’d yelled at Tami for requesting another roll. Still, if anyone was likely to receive special favors, it would be Scott. He was exceedingly likeable. Still, he must have put out considerable effort to obtain this gourmet meal.
“It’s a wise man who understands women and chocolate.” She dipped her fork back into the dessert, deliberately keeping her tone light.
He didn’t say a word but his eyes flashed with amusement. He definitely knew his way around women, probably had a girlfriend or two. Maybe even a wife? Kids who needed him? His fingers were bare, but lots of people didn’t wear wedding rings. “You’re not married, are you?” she asked abruptly.
“No.”
He didn’t return the question so she pretended to be absorbed in the dessert. He was very private, but then so was she. And either he was the type of guy who didn’t care if she were married, or he really intended this as a thank-you-for-the-tow meal. Her cheeks heated at the memory of how she’d responded in the hall.
She shot him a cautious peek. He didn’t look uncomfortable, more like he was thinking. He hadn’t finished his dessert. Damn, he’s attractive. Already yesterday’s pallor had disappeared. Riding had left those lean cheeks tanned and lethal, although the pink scar was still visible. He looked like he was feeling fine. She certainly hoped so. “Did you have a bad injury?” she asked quietly.
“It was touch and go for a while. But the headaches are fading.”
“Galloping this morning didn’t hurt?”
“Surprisingly not,” he said. “Are you riding the same time tomorrow?”
“Unfortunately I’m grounded the rest of the week,” she admitted. “I wasn’t supposed to stay in the field alone. So Lydia, my instructor, assigned dry training.”
HORSES AND HEROIN (Romantic Mystery) Page 7
