Page 82 of The Devil's Pawn

The palomino squeals and nips at one of the grooms, who yelps and leaps out of the way.

“He’s not respecting that stable hand.”

Her lips twitch. “Please. Thirty seconds. Let me try. You can keep hold of my hand, and if you’re worried, you can pull me away in a second.”

When did this woman tear down most of my defenses? I can’t believe I’m considering allowing her near the animal. His nostrils are flaring, and there’s a wild look in his eye that she might trust, but I sure as hell don’t.

I sigh, and she beams, knowing she’s won this round. Keeping a tight hold on her, I let her inch closer. She fishes a piece of carrot from her jeans pocket and lays it flatin her palm.

“Are you hungry, boy?”

The horse cranes his neck, reaching as far as he can for the carrot without getting too close. Snaffling it, his head snaps back.

“Good boy.” She moves again. I move with her, my muscles coiled and ready to yank her out of the way. She gets out another piece of carrot, then another. On the fourth one, the horse moves forward, and after eating it, he doesn’t back away. She rubs her palm down his forehead, tugging on his mane.

“There we are. You’re okay, aren’t you?”

She continues to talk to him in low, calm tones, and I can’t fucking believe my eyes when the stallion nuzzles her. The whole exchange has lasted less than three minutes, and she’s got the animal eating out of the palm of her hand. Literally and figuratively.

“He’s scared, that’s all. He’s been ripped from his home, and he doesn’t know whether he’s come to a friend or foe.”

Her words hit me hard in the center of my chest. Just like her. I ripped Imogen from her home, from everything familiar to her, and brought her to a strange place with people she didn’t know, then proceeded to isolate her in an attempt to get her to leave me. Is it little wonder she retaliated?

Releasing the hand I had in a vise grip, I slide an arm around her waist. “Seems as though you two have something in common.”

She looks up at me. “Yes, I think we do. Or rather, we did. Given time and space, he’ll realize he’s come to a good home.”

I graze my knuckles over her cheek. “Have you?”

“I’m getting there.”

“I’m not a good man. You know that, right?”

“I don’t know that because you haven’t shared. I only know what I see.”

“And what is that?”

“My husband.”

If we weren’t in the middle of a bustling yard, I’d fuck her right here, right now. “Come back to the house with me.”

“Can I stay a while? To settle him in?”

Her request should piss me off given how desperate I am to be inside her, but instead, it shows me who she is.

A treasure.

A fucking queen.

Myfucking queen.

“Don’t be long.” I kiss the tip of her nose and let her go. It takes all my effort not to look back as I head for the house. If I take one more look at her, I’ll throw her over my shoulder and haul her back with me.

I dive into the shower and wash away the grime of the flight and the car journey. After dressing in black jeans and a black button-down shirt, I’m on my way to give my father the debrief when I happen to glance out of the window overlooking the stables.

My chest swells with pride as I watch Imogen with the new arrival. She’s stroking his neck, his flank, his rump, and his head is down. He’s submitting to her, and it’s a glorious sight. She wasn’t lying when she said she had a way with horses. It’s a rare gift—one I don’t have. She walks around the back of him, and he swishes his tail, but it’s not in annoyance. She offers him another piece of carrot, then clasps her hands to his cheeks and rests her forehead against his.

Time slows down for the next few seconds. A horse tiedup outside its loose box kicks over a bucket of water, startling the new arrival. He rears up, cracking Imogen underneath her chin with his snout. She flies into the air, landing on her back.