Page 2 of Taming Mika

“In my opinion, horses are more emotionally intelligent than the majority of people. It’s one of their greatest strengths and the reason they have managed to remain so valuable to humans for as long as they have. So yes, I take theirfeelingsinto consideration when I train them.”

I can’t keep my contempt out of my voice this time, and I clench my teeth as I lock my eyes on the red-and-white blur that is Piper and Fate as they pass by us once again.

“She’s quick,” Alfie observes mildly.

“At least you knowthatmuch about horses.” The words are out of my mouth before I can think better of them, and now I wonder just how deeply I might have dug my grave.

Alfie definitely picks up on my sarcasm this time around, and Ibrace myself, holding my breath as I wait for the repercussions that are sure to follow. It’ll likely end with him calling my employers and demanding my resignation—if not worse. Javier’s warning echoes through my brain, and I wonder if I might have just pissed off a very dangerous man.

But when I glance at Alfie out of the corner of my eye, I’m baffled to find that, rather than seeming offended, he looks almost… amused. That same cocky grin curls his perfectly shaped lips. He reaches up to remove his stylish aviators, leveling me with his gaze for the first time. My heart skips a beat as his light hazel eyes assess me with an intelligence that makes my spine tingle. But what makes my stomach knot with anxiety is the heat behind them.

I’m not entirely sure if it’s anger or attraction.

Without a doubt, I’ve triggered some unwanted emotion in him, and I swallow hard as I wait for him to break the silence stretching between us.

“I’ll buy her,” he says abruptly, making my stomach plummet.

I really hadn’t thought he seemed interested in her. And now, the determination in his eyes guarantees he won’t be leaving here without a bill of sale.

“As long as her trainer comes with her,” he adds, his grin widening into that brilliant white smile I’m sure all the New York girls must melt into a puddle over.

“That’s not how it works, Mr. Bonetti,” I say carefully, but my voice sounds pinched with anxiety.

My palms start to sweat, and I slide them into my jeans pockets to mask the sudden nervousness I’ve been picking up around the barn all morning. His intelligent hazel eyes flick down, catching the movement, and my stomach twists as the hint of arrogant amusement grows along his lips.

“I work for the Carvers,” I explain in an effort to bring his eyes back up where they belong. But I have to clear my throat because I still sound dangerously hoarse. “I work withallthe horses in their barn. I can’t just up and leave to train one promising filly.”

His perfectly shaped eyebrows lift in apparent understanding, but the determined glint doesn’t dim for a second. “Fine,” he says casually, shrugging as if it’s just that easy to change his mind. And he slips his hands into his pockets as well, mirroring my movement, though in a much more laid-back way. “Then I’ll buy the barn.”

2

ALFIE

“I’m… sorry?” Mika says, her expression flickering from guarded to stunned, “when you say you’ll buy the barn, are you talking about just the racing horses? Or all of them? I just—I’ve never?—”

She’s unprepared for the idea, which amuses me. A full buyout might be rare in this world, but I’ve done my research. The filly isn’t the only thing of value here. The Carvers have a prized stud, cutting-edge breeding facilities, and a prime property. All of it is worth the price.

“Not just the racehorses,” I say.

Her face is a dance of disbelief and frustration, her emotions flitting too quickly for her to hide.

“The herd, the stables, the house, the land. Everything.”

“Mr. Bonetti…” Her tone tightens, as if fighting to stay composed. She doubts the Carvers would sell, but I know better.

“I don’t think the Carvers are looking to sell their entire property,” she says finally, glancing toward the track. The filly is easing into a lope, her jockey guiding her with steady precision.

Mika whistles sharply, signaling the rider to bring the horse back. Then her attention snaps to me again, her wariness palpable.

Reaching into my jacket, I pull out my phone. “Everyone has a price. The Carvers are no exception. Would you like to call them, or shall I?”

Her arms cross as she lifts her chin, her voice hardening. “Look, Mr. Bonetti, you might not understand the horse world, but people like the Carvers dedicate their lives to building stables like this. They don’t sell on a whim.”

I don’t correct her assumption that I’m out of my depth. Instead, I scroll through my contacts until I find Roger Carver’s number.

“Perhaps. Then again, I doubt you’re familiar with my world either.”

Fire flashes in Mika’s eyes, her full, wide lips pressing into a disapproving line as I bring the phone to my ear.

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