Page 27 of Taking the Heat

A light drizzle had begun to mist the air around us. ‘Hey, do you feel like having a proper gallop?’ I asked him.

‘Lady, I thought you’d never ask!’

Kicking our heels into the horses, we spurred them into an easy, rolling canter down the beach, the buggy buzzing to keep up. With the moisture on my skin and the water splashing up around us, it was exhilarating. I whooped in pure delight as Beau hollered happily.

Around the curve of the beach, the sand ended at the foot of a rocky cliff. We pulled the horses up and turned around. Panting and dripping, we began to walk back. ‘That was amazing! God, I haven’t ridden like that in forever.’

‘You’re a natural,’ said Beau. ‘Where did you learn to ride?’

‘At a place in the mountains, when I was a kid. I actually didn’t want to learn, but my sister had such a thing for ponies, our parents bribed me to go along with her for company. I’m so glad I did.’ I smiled at the memories. ‘I did alright on a horse, but Ella was the natural. She was training for a national dressage event right up until …’

I faded out, overwhelming sadness draining the words from me. Beau looked concerned. ‘Until what?’

I couldn’t tell him, couldn’t ruin such a gorgeous afternoon. ‘Until she … had to give it up. Anyway! Feel like another run?’

‘After you, ma’am.’

Chapter 10

After a picnic on the beach under a giant umbrella, Beau walked me home. Neither of us discussed using a strike—we both have too much to lose to throw any chances away.

Shivering from the damp, I jumped in the shower, then crawled into bed for another nana-nap, which are becoming a wonderful habit here.

My team arrived again to beautify me late in the afternoon. Mama Ruby pulled at my matted curls critically. ‘Foolish girl,’ she chided. ‘Ruining all my hard work. It’ll have to be a bun tonight. I ain’t settin’ this mess again.’

‘Thanks, Mama.’

With my hair piled high on my head, I adjusted my navy blue mini-dress, pulling at the fabric to make sure it covered my butt. I wasn’t sure what the evening plans were—the message from the runner only said we were to meet at the bungalow at seven.

I clopped down the walkway on my towering sand-coloured heels, but the height meant I could only walk about as fast as a drunk person navigating a straight line. ‘Screw it,’ I muttered, pulling the shoes off. Padding on, I decided I’d don them again when I got to the bungalow.

Fast and silent as I was, it wasn’t surprising Toshi and Clara didn’t hear me. They stood hidden in the shadows just off the path, while the same camera guy from the bushes behind me last night filmed them quietly.

Clara was talking. ‘… so, I was just really fucking hurt when you dumped me, okay? I was like, what the fuck ever, man. I’ll just show him by becoming so fucking famous, he’ll see my face on every magazine, every TV, and he’ll be so sorry.’

She took a ragged breath. ‘But now, you’re here. You came here for me. And … yeah, I still fucking love you too.’

Toshi leaned into her. ‘I love you, my flower, my Clara. I’d be honoured if you will allow me to use a strike on you now.’

‘Oh, Toshi …’ She grabbed his face and pulled him in for a deep kiss. I grinned goofily, then realised staring at people making out made me nearly as pervy as the camera guy. Tiptoeing off, I hoped things would work out for the two of them.

Just a little further down the path, I found the bungalow back in party mode. I gratefully scooped up a glass of champagne from the tray at the door, then realised I needed to put my shoes back on.

‘Can I hold that for you?’ Henry appeared by my side and lifted the glass from my hand.

‘Thanks, Henry!’ I pulled the first shoe back on, hopping a little. ‘How was your day?’

‘Good, thank you. Oh! Careful!’ As I stuffed my foot in the second high heel, I toppled over towards Henry.

For a second, I hung on the air. I wasn’t worried; Henry was right there, he would catch me.

Then he stepped backwards and let me fall.

I landed hard on my knees, then face-planted smack on the floor. Moaning in pain, I pushed up, hurting everywhere.

Chris appeared from nowhere. Kneeling beside me, he said, ‘Tara! Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, I think so,’ I said, gingerly inspecting the graze on my shoulder which would probably bruise. My knees were throbbing, and when I touched my lip I found blood on my fingers.

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