When it came to real feed, the kind he was supposed to nibble on, the stallion had a funny quirk. He hated being alone when he ate. If A.J. wasn’t around, the oats or hay went untouched. Only when she was leaning against the stall door, looking over him and talking quietly, would Sabbath dip his muzzle down and start chewing.
Between his phobias, bizarre habits and the way he behaved in the ring, it was easy to see why Sabbath had been passed from owner to owner. If it weren’t for his obvious and overwhelming affection for her, A.J. thought they all would have lost patience with him by the end of the first week.
She finished untangling her hair and put the brush back in her toiletries bag. Then she slipped on a pair of thick socks to keep her toes warm and picked up her small bag. She was on the way downstairs, running through the checklist of things to do in the morning before they left for the show, when she heard cursing. Curious, she followed the expletives into Devlin’s study. He was crouching in the corner of the room, frustrated.
He looked up as he heard her approach. Their eyes met in the dim light, and the flash of attraction, which always flared whenever they were together, made her feel warm inside.
“Sorry for the colorful language.” His voice was deep and low.
“Highly descriptive as well as educational.” She tried to smile nonchalantly. “I didn’t know you could do that to a filing cabinet.”
She leaned against the doorjamb, keeping her distance. They hadn’t been alone since the night of the kiss up in his bedroom, by silent agreement. He’d taken to conveniently disappearing whenever she had to use the bath and she pretended to be asleep every morning when he came downstairs to start breakfast. Chester was with them the rest of the time.
She hadn’t found the forced distance helpful. Since reality wasn’t offering a release to her sexual tension, her fantasies were picking up the slack. Instead of growing more dim, the memory of their kisses haunted her, taking on mythic proportions.
Which is what happens, she thought, when you spend so much time staring at the wall at night. Perspective is the first thing to go. Followed closely by good humor.
“Anything I can help with?” she asked.
“My filing system’s failed me.”
A.J. glanced around the room. Papers were everywhere. Covering the floor, stacked on top of filing cabinets, crowded in piles. It was a jungle.
“I don’t know that I’d call it filing. More like stationery landscaping.”
“I find things easier if it’s all laid out,” he said, crouching down over another stack. “Usually.”
“What are you after?”
“Receipts from a feed company. You ready for tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t say ready. More like resigned. Reminds me of when I got my wisdom teeth removed. One way or another, it’ll be over tomorrow night.”
Feeling restless, because of the event in the morning and because she was finally alone with him, she fingered the bottom of her T-shirt, pulling apart the frayed hem and creating a hole. The shirt was at least ten years old and she was wearing it for good luck. On the front, there was the name of the local high school football team as well as a big lion’s head. On the back it read, DON’T MESS WITH THE CATS.
Coming up empty from another excavation, Devlin got to his feet, shaking out his stiff leg. “You two have come a long way since that first day. You’ve got longer to go but it’s not like you’re standing still.”
“What are we going to do if there’s water in the ring tomorrow?”
They’d been so busy working on the basics, the water jump had remained unfilled. It was one more source of anxiety. Neither of them wanted her to take the stallion over one in competition for the first time.
“If there’s water, you’re going to take your best shot and hope he holds, but I’m betting you won’t have to worry about it. This is a regional competition. There’ll be some good riders there but it’s not a huge event. They’re not going to get too fancy.”
“I know you’re right but my mind just keeps spinning.” Her hands sped up their work.
“Stop picking at that shirt before there’s nothing left of it,” he said darkly. Not that shredding the damn thing isn’t totally appealing, Devlin added to himself.
Her hands stilled. “I’m a little keyed up.”
Looking at the hole she’d created, Devlin felt the power of his lust for her. Staying away from A.J. for two weeks had been hell and the virtues of self-restraint were losing their ability to fortify his willpower. The last thing he needed was to be talking to her and imagining what she’d look like with her br**sts bare to his eyes.
The mere thought was enough to make him get hard. Every night, in his dreams, she came to him, drifting up the stairs, through his door, into his bed. He would feel her skin against his, get lost in her mouth, smell the lavender in her hair. And then he would wake up and wonder why the hell she was sleeping anywhere else but beside him.
His jaw tightened.
“You look fierce,” she said softly.
“Sorry. I guess I’m keyed up myself.”
Liar, he thought. He wasn’t anxious about the event. He wasn’t even thinking about it. It was A.J. that was on his mind. The fact that they were alone in his house. That with two steps forward she would be close enough for him to kiss her. On the lips. On the neck. On the—
“I want you to know, I won’t let us down. I’m going to give it my very best tomorrow.”
“Of course you will,” he said, trying to focus. “You’ve been giving it your very best every day in that ring. You’ve been amazing to watch. You’re so much more than I ever expected.”
“I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” Her blue eyes were downcast and her face flushed, as if she was embarrassed by his praise as well as pleased with it.
He cleared his throat, feeling like he should offer her more support. “Your entire future doesn’t rest on tomorrow. Not your riding career, not your chances at turning Sabbath into a champion. It’s one competition in what hopefully will be a long list of shows with you on his back. You’re just starting down the road, and if you stumble in the first few feet, it doesn’t mean you can’t go the distance.”
A.J. smiled at him and he felt as if she’d stolen the breath from his lungs. Standing in the doorway, wearing that pair of flannel boxers and the old T-shirt, she was the most enticing woman he’d ever seen. Her hair was around her shoulders in thick waves and her skin glowed in the dim light. As his body throbbed, he realized it wouldn’t matter what she was wearing; he’d always be attracted to her. To him, she could turn a burlap sack into a negligee.