Page 103 of Power
“I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this, Trouble,” he grumbled, shifting his weight again as Snickerdoodle sidestepped like she was avoiding paparazzi.
“You didn’t need much convincing.”
“Seeing that smile on your face, I would have boarded a rocket ship to the moon to keep it there,” he said absently. Like it was nothing. Like casually admitting he’d hurtle himself into space just to see me happy was as ordinary as ordering coffee.
My heart did a flip in my chest, and suddenly, I had to fight the urge to launch myself onto his horse and wrap my arms around his ridiculously ripped body. And say thank you.
Thank you for knowing exactly what I needed.
Thank you for agreeing to go for a ride when I’m one thousand percent sure that is the last thing on your corporate agenda.
And thank you for not ruining this moment by demanding Marcus’s name right now.
I got the impression that Jace was normally a fist-pounding CEO who snapped his fingers and expected information to materialize in front of him. Patience? Not in his vocabulary.
But this Jace? This Jace placed my needs, all my needs, far above his own.
Make no mistake. Marcus’s name wasn’t staying secret anymore. I just needed a moment to catch my breath, like a boxer on the canvas who needed to stand up on her own terms. After feeling as vulnerable as I did in that office, hiding under my desk like a frightened child, I needed to feel in control again. HR and police would hear his name tomorrow, guaranteed, but I’d be the one telling them—not because someone forced my hand, but because I chose to.
Bonus if I could somehow do damage control with my career in the meantime. Should I tell Jace before HR? At this point, I doubted he’d think I’d made it all up, but it was still complicated, and my bank account wasn’t exactly overflowing withquit your job on principlemoney.
I shook my head. Those were tomorrow problems. Today, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in watercolor strokes of amber and gold around the trees and gorgeous foliage as we ambled along the trail.
“Damn horse!” Jace snarled as Snickerdoodle came to a complete halt out of nowhere, nearly sending him flying over her head.
“She senses your anger,” I said, patting my own horse’s neck. “Animals sense feelings. You need to relax.”
“My feelings have nothing to do with a giant ball of fur misbehaving.”
“She’s mortally offended you said that.” I smirked. “Look at her ears. That’s horse forI can’t believe this guy. And FYI, horses have hair, not fur.”
“Horses are basically big, fuzzy dogs with hooves. You train them. You feed them. This one is failing spectacularly at part one.”
“Snickerdoodle is one of the best trained horses in the stable. It was nice of the barn manager to let you take her out. Most beginners get Turtle.” I paused. “He’s named that because … well, you get it. He makes glaciers look speedy.”
Snickerdoodle huffed again, trotting forward so suddenly that Jace jerked backward. I briefly wondered if whiplash was covered under whatever platinum-diamond-encrusted insurance plan billionaires had.
“Fucking horse!” he snapped.
I couldn’t help but laugh. The mighty Jace Lockwood, who probably made grown men cry in boardrooms, was being absolutely owned by a horse named after a cookie.
“Jace, I can tell you’re upset, and if I can tell, she can definitely tell. She’s basically a twelve-hundred-pound emotional sponge with a tail.”
His eyes darkened to a forest green as they slammed into mine, the fury he was clearly trying to keep at bay unleashing as he growled, “I found you quivering under a desk. Of course I’m upset.”
Okay. I’ll just pretend your fury didn’t do all sorts of unwanted things to my heart. My hormones …
“Take a deep breath in, hold it for two seconds, and then breathe it out through your nose,” I instructed. “It’s what I do when my laptop crashes right before a deadline.”
Jace cocked his head, and dammit if he didn’t look even sexier doing it. The man could make annoyance look like a cologne ad. “Deep breathing exercises? Really?”
“Do you enjoy having your spine in one piece? Because I’m pretty sure Snickerdoodle here is taking mental measurements for a full-body cast.”
Jace pouted—actually pouted—looking every part a sexy hero on a horse in the process. I considered telling him it was his shirt that was the problem. Seeing his muscles and abs covered in tattoos, clenching with each horse movement would be … educational. For the local wildlife. And me.
Instead, I watched him close his eyes, taking deep breaths that made his chest rise and fall. He looked as peaceful as a billionaire in the throes of a complicated acquisition could, and then, after a few seconds, Snickerdoodle calmed down. Either that or she was just recharging for her next attack.
“See?” I said, not even trying to keep the smugness out of my voice. “Horse psychology 101.”
