Page 19 of Perfume Girl
He directed his skittish horse around my car, all the while throwing me condescending glances.
“That’s a good idea,” I offered. “Let him see the car is harmless now.”
Astor tugged on the reins and maneuvered the horse toward me, coming so close I could literally reach out and touch his mane.
I took a step back and my heel caught in the gravel. I fell, landing on my bum.
“Now we’re even,” Astor said darkly. He leaned down, offering me his hand, and with an impressive athletic ability quickly pulled me to my feet.
I brushed gravel off my skirt. “I’d like to talk with you about a—”
“Get back in your car and leave.”
No way, not after driving all this way.
Something told me his sister would be more reasonable. “I’m here to see Penelope Beauregard.”
“She’s not here.”
I walked over to my car and gently closed the door. “I’ll wait inside the house.”
“You’d have to be invited in to do that.”
“Then I’ll wait here.” I folded my arms across my chest and leaned back against the car.
“You’re trespassing.”
“I don’t appreciate being threatened with a horse.”
“I was decent enough to stop.”
I narrowed my gaze, disapproving of his arrogance.
He squeezed his heels against the stallion’s ribs and headed off in the opposite direction.
I called after him, “Mix the scent of your conceit with the aroma of your boots and you’ll have a winner for the fuck-boys.”
He tugged on the reins and forced his horse to turn sideways. “You know who I am, then?”
“I do.”
Even if I hated him, I couldn’t deny how impressive—and hot—he looked while he was getting his frisky steed under control.
He loosened his chinstrap. “And who do I have the displeasure of meeting—on my land, I might add?”
“Yourproperty?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t this your sister’s home?”
“So you got your info fromTown and Country?”
“Vanity Fair.” I swallowed my doubt. “What time will she be back?”
“She rarely visits.”
“Where does she live?”
