Page 34 of A Billionaire's Secret

He squeezed me tight, cleared his throat from an invisible lump, and said, “Always.”

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I hadn’t lived until now.

I’d never felt more alive than that afternoon at Judmont Farm, sitting on top of his Majesty—Mischief. I had to pinch myself a few times to make sure I wasn’t in some kind of twisted dream that would end at any moment and spit me back into reality.

Much like a dream, time and distance ceased to exist. Mischief’s muscular legs led the way to open green fields. The earth beneath us—drenched with centuries of history. The air around us smelled of eternal freedom.

My body fit perfectly on the saddle, and I felt light as a feather under Mischief’s statuesque body. His shiny, chestnut coat glistened under the timid sun rays peeking through the clouds. I patted his neck gently, encouraging him to lead me, my grip loosening from the reins.

If it weren’t for the white picket fence ahead of me, poking through thick green bushes, indicating the end of the farm’s property, I wouldn’t have thought to turn back. I pulled the left rein ever so slightly, and Mischief graciously swerved, jolting us back toward the stables. Christian and Henry were mere specs in the distance, but they quickly grew larger as we approached them.

I must have been grinning from ear to ear when I dismantled the horse, my legs still shaking from the adrenaline, because Christian burst out laughing.

“That good, huh?”

“You have no idea,” I shook my head. “This horse is but a dream.”

“Christian, would you like to try him as well?” Henry asked in all seriousness, and this time I burst out in laughter.

Christian poked my ribs and politely declined. “You don’t want to see me on a horse, it’s a pitiful sight.”

“Well, in that case, Ms. Victoria, feel free to lead him back to his stall and take all the time you want.” Henry offered, making my insides flutter.

With Mischief proudly prancing to my right, I would steal glances at him and then back at Christian, whose eyes locked with mine each time. When we reached the stables, I led the stud back into his stall and offered him a handful of hay, his tongue tickling the palm of my hand. I grabbed a nearby brush and groomed his thick, ruffled-up mane into meticulous smoothness.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, you know,” I whispered softly, brushing my cheek on his muscular neck. “I hope to see you again someday.”

The longer I stayed, the thicker the lump in my throat grew. There would've never been a good time to leave Mischief, so I swallowed, patted my clothes clear of hay, cleared my throat, and opened the gate, replacing my sadness with gratitude.

“We said our goodbyes,” I informed Christian and Henry. “Thank you so much for letting me spend time with him.”

Together, the three of us walked back to the main building, where they had served generous refreshments, and the aroma of freshly-baked pastries and coffee filled the air. My stomach growled on command and startled Christian. He grabbed a muffin and fed it to me.

“Here, for the beast roaring in your stomach,” he laughed.

I was speechless. A strange and unfamiliar feeling crept up inside me. A feeling I would later realize was the one they write books about. I was falling for Christian, hard and fast.

16

Christian

ThemomentVictoria’seyesmet the thoroughbred by the ironic name of Mischief, and I observed her tiny frame shiver with excitement, I knew it had to be done. No amount of reason or calculation would stop me from purchasing the horse for her. The only question was how I could keep it a secret, transport him and surprise her one day when she obliviously returned to her training routine in Louisville.

Hard as I tried, I didn’t stand a chance when it came to getting her attention as long as Mischief was around. While that would typically hurt my ego, I considered it a blessing. I waved goodbye and watched Victoria gallop away, her hair effortlessly flowing in matching rhythm with the stud’s tail.

“Henry, let’s talk money,” I turned to him as soon as she was far enough.

“So, you are sure you’d like to purchase Mischief?” He squinted his eyes, quizzing me with intent. “Would you like to wait for her to return?”

“Waiting is not a verb I’m familiar with,” I winked at Henry and glanced at my watch, creating urgency. “In fact, we need to settle this before she returns from the ride. I’ve already looked through the papers you sent me, and I had a feeling she’d fall in love with this particular horse.”

“She has great taste, undeniably.” Henry pulled out his phone and scrolled up and down a few times until he found what he was looking for. “The current market price for a stud of Mischief’s stature is well over three-hundred thousand dollars.”

Henry peeked at me from under his brows, making sure the expression on my face was one of comprehension rather than apprehension. I remained calm, as this wasn’t my first time negotiating.

“And being that Mischief is a direct descendant of Thunder Cat, well really, the only descendant, his worth is even higher,” Henry continued. “And finally, with his proven track record of over two million dollars in prize money earnings, we are now looking at a price tag of half a million dollars.”

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