Page 81 of The Devil's Pawn

Chapter Twenty-Eight

ALEXANDER

My car stops at the front of the house, and I rub the back of my neck. What a week. An unplanned trip to Russia on Consortium business wasn’t in the cards, but when the council calls, a representative from each of the families has to attend. It’s been a torturous seven days away from my wife, but I’m home now, and eager to see her.

I slide my phone out of my pocket and check her whereabouts to find she’s at the stables, which is of no surprise to me, and now Edgerton is out of the way, and all other staff background checks came back as clear, I can relax a little.

I hand my briefcase and jacket to Richard, then head over to the stable block. Imogen is feeding carrots to one of the mares, but before I get to her, a horsebox drives into the yard, and the commotion coming from inside brings a smile to my face.

Perfect timing.

While I was in Russia, I made a purchase. A beautiful palomino stallion with an attitude problem. It appears I likemy horses the same as I like my women. Or rather, one woman in particular.

Imogen turns to investigate the racket. Her eyes land on me, and she startles before breaking out into a smile that liquifies my insides. I can’t deny it any longer.

I’m obsessed with my wife.

“You’re home,” she says, striding toward me with purpose in her step. “How was your trip?”

“Long.” I clasp her upper arms and, uncaring of our audience, kiss her hard on the lips.

A faint blush creeps up her neck. “What’s this?” She points to the horse box, and what’s soon to be a gigantic hole in the side if my new purchase keeps kicking it.

“Come and see.” I take her hand and lead her to the rear, standing well back as two of the stable hands lower the trailer door. The horse bucks, but there’s nothing for him to hit this time.

“Oh, wow. Beautiful,” she breathes.

“And irascible.”

She grins up at me. “Sounds familiar.”

I arch a brow—the one she waxed. The hair has almost grown back, and while I was furious at the time—and stubborn enough to refuse to have someone fix it—now, when I look in the mirror, I smile. My wife has balls, I’ll give her that.

“You’re risking a spanking, Mrs. De Vil.”

“Gotta catch me first, Mr. De Vil.”

Banter with anyone who isn’t a sibling isn’t normal for me, but I’m loving it. I put my arm across Imogen’s chest, moving her a little farther away as a groom backs the horse out of the trailer. As soon as his four hooves hit the concrete, he rears up.

“Easy, boy.” Imogen raises her hand in a slow, non-threatening manner, but as she takes a step, I grab her wrist.

“No.”

This horse has a feisty temperament, and until I’ve carried out a proper assessment, my wife isn’t going anywhere near him.

“It’s okay,” she says. “I’ll be careful. Let me talk to him, please. I can calm him.”

“No.”

She tries to pull away, but I tighten my grip.

“I said no, Imogen. Don’t fight me on this. What if he kicks you?”

“He won’t.”

“How do you know?”

Her lips thin, and I prepare myself for disobedient Imogen. “If you’d bothered to watch me around horses, then you’d know I have a rapport with them. They trust me, and I trust them. It’s a mutually respectful relationship.”

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