Page 3 of The Edge of Intensity

I realize I’m openly ogling him and can feel my cheeks heat. Frustration wells up inside me and I rip my gaze from him to glare at my sister, willing her to say something so we can get this over with.

I want the horse, not the guy delivering her. Though, I wouldn’t mind having…no. I’m not a virgin, but it’s too long since my first time. My issues have only grown over the past few years, and I simply gave up on men after that miserable first time. Until this guy showed up I never even had sex on my mind. Shit. He needs to leave.

“Get him out of here,” I hiss under my breath at my sister.

CHAPTER TWO

– ROURKE –

“Mornin’, ladies,” I rumble and keep my eyes on the woman who just dismissed me to whisper something to her sister.

Eastlynne Hazel, in the hot and sexy flesh. Damn. Her pictures and videos on her website don’t do her justice. The only contact I’ve had is with her sister, Cosima. She told me her sister was eccentric, and I shouldn’t be insulted if she acted weird, completely ignored me, or walked away mid-discussion.

I have to admit, hearing her warning was fucking intriguing, especially when it involved the stunning woman who has an impressive reputation as a horse trainer. We run a background check on everyone interested in buying a horse from us. Money means shit to us; we want to know if the horses we’ve bred end up in a good place.

Recently one of our members neglected to mention he bought a horse from us with the main purpose of re-selling him. By doing this he skipped the background check of the new owner and sold one of our horses to a friend of his without our knowledge. When he realized his fuck-up due to witnessing the horse being mistreated, he brought it to the table.

We intervened and retrieved the horse. Thank fuck he did make them sign the contract that allowed us to retrieve the horse, but the poor animal is traumatized so it doesn’t help the horse other than making the abuse stop.

The Quarter horses are bred, and trained by us, for a load of different things. We have a long waiting list, and I’m not ashamed to say that I moved Eastlynne up the list just so I could meet her. I was fucking pissed my father took over the first meeting because I was out, retrieving Buckey, the traumatized horse.

“Morning, Rourke. Your father mentioned you were the one swinging by to deliver my sister’s horse. I’m Cosima Hazel, we spoke a few times on the phone, and this here is Eastlynne, she’ll be the new owner.”

I shake the woman’s hand and turn to Eastlynne. “I heard you own a horse with the same bloodline. Mind if I have a look?”

Cosima takes the lead of the mare. “Sounds like a perfect idea. Why don’t I take this one to her new stable? East will bring you back there once you’ve seen Fletch.”

I turn to East when I hear her mutter a string of curses under her breath before she grunts, “Follow me.”

She spins on her heels and completely ignores me as she stomps off, leaving me to quicken my step in an effort to catch up to her. East gives a short whistle and, in the distance, I see a horse that’s almost a carbon copy of the mare I just brought whip his head up in the air. Fletch comes running as if his ass was struck by lightning.

“Damn,” I mutter in awe.

The horse abruptly stops in front of East and almost bumps into her.

“Not funny,” she scolds, and the horse in return pulls up his upper lip as if he is indeed laughing at her.

“Are you laughing at me?” she asks and the horse bobs his head, letting her know he is indeed laughing.

Fuck, their interaction is amazing. I’ve seen some of their videos but seeing it up close shows how these two share a connection as if they speak the same language. I chuckle and the woman hits me with a glare.

“Hey,” I quip and hold my hands palm up. “I’m in complete awe of the way he listens to you and in no way am I laughing at you. Not to mention, this one seems like a carbon copy of Breeze.” East frowns and I clarify, “The mare.”

“It’s why I wanted her,” she states and her voice turns sad when she adds, “I know I can never replace Fletch. The connection we share is unique. I guess with him getting older I just don’t want to be left without some of his legacy. Which sounds stupid, I know.”

The sadness in her eyes feels as if it’s tugging at my fucking heartstrings. Without thinking I step closer and am about to pull her into my arms to comfort her when her eyes go wide.

“Too close.” She gasps and leaps back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

What the fuck am I doing? What about her, overreacting the way she did? In all my life I’ve never had a woman reject anything I had to give.

“I was being nice,” I grit. “You were sad, so I thought I’d give you a hug.”

“Well, for future reference, you can be nice and respect someone’s personal space,” she fires back.

Agitation gets the better of me, especially since I wanted nothing more than to touch the gorgeous woman. “You know what? Keep your personal space all to yourself. This is why we require background checks and personal meetings with potential buyers. I don’t care about your reputation with training horses, not when your social skills are lacking from the get-go.”

Her hands curl into fists and she grumbles, “You’re the one getting in my personal space.”

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