Page 16 of Virgin's Stolen Nights with the Boss

So, his name was Elias.

And she simply knew that he owned the place.

It was clearly a busy yard, so the interview was being cobbled in between its normal activities, and Carmen took absolutely no offence that she was being ignored. If anything, she welcomed it, for as Blake updated the owner with details about a mare in foal she was able to fight her blush by turning her attention to the stunning stallion.

She was doing her best to dismiss the brief interaction they had shared the other night.

Why did it matter?Carmen pondered.

But that was the moment—at six in the morning in a stable yard in Malibu—that a little bit more of what was missing in her life returned. The other night was forgotten and all her worries drifted away as the stallion sniffed the air in her direction and made his first curious approach.

‘Hola, caballo,’she said gently, introducing herself.

He breathed out softly, then moved his head a little closer as he breathed in her scent again, and Carmen took it as a polite greeting. Instinctively, she slowly extended her closed hand to greet him.

‘Hola, guapo,’she murmured—Hello, handsome.

But before his gorgeous nostrils could make contact, Elias jerked back on the reins.

‘Watch it!’ Elias barked.

Carmen snatched back her hand, aching to touch the horse. She was about to register a brief protest and point out that mutual contact had been about to be made, but then she saw Elias’s dark brown eyes narrowed in warning.

She reminded herself that this was not her yard, and these were not her horses.

Here, by her choice, she did not make the rules.

There was also an inward sense of relief that, as evidenced by his clear lack of interest, Elias hadn’t recognised her.

Why it should matter, Carmen didn’t really know. She would examine that later. But for now, while she was being interviewed, it simply came as a relief.

It was Blake who explained to her the nature of the beast.

‘Dom’s a vicious bastard,’ he informed her, and glanced at her leather gloves. ‘Those won’t protect you—he’s a biter, amongst other things,’ he added, although the last sardonic comment was aimed at Elias. ‘Apart from me, Laura’s the only one who’ll take his feed in. Elias, I’m just interviewing this girl for the stable hand position. No experience with polo and she’d only be a hundred pounds soaking wet...’

‘Not a girl,’ Carmen corrected. ‘And I am one hundred and ten pounds.’ Then she added, ‘Dry.’

This was the world she was used to—because, far from taking offence, Blake grinned.

Elias did not, however. His jaw seemed to be moulded from granite, Carmen thought as she spoke on. ‘As well as that, I’d have no issues feeding him.’

She looked up at Elias but he made no response—at least not to Carmen.

‘Let’s get him cooled down,’ he said, and Blake held Domitian’s bridle and reins as Elias dismounted lithely, his long black boots thudding onto the ground. The familiar sound made Carmen jolt with sudden longing, but he paid no heed to her jump, his attention solely on the hot and bothered horse.

Domitian—or Dom—was more aggressive without his rider, she thought, but Elias and Blake took up positions on either side of the stallion’s head and together led the unwilling horse into the stable.

Elias held him while Blake hosed him down, although Domitian proved something of a moving target. Carmen stood there feeling rather useless as she watched both men get drenched.

‘Can I help?’ she asked—and not just because she was still being interviewed. It was more that she simply wanted to be a part of the action again.

Elias was having none of it, though. ‘You can help by staying back,’ he called over his shoulder, then took the hose from Blake and finished off the horse’s neck.

Carmen smiled as he let Domitian chase the hose and take a drink. ‘You like that...?’ he crooned, and Carmen saw the ghost of a smile on Elias’s stern features as he let Domitian play for a couple of moments, biting at the water rather than at people. Then it was time to take him to his stall.

Everyone seemed to be staying well back from the stallion, Carmen noted—all the staff scattered as the stallion was moved through the stable. They were clearly nervous—and with good reason. His tail was swishing and he kept trying to lurch towards the other stabled horses as they passed the various stalls.

It took both men to steer him straight, but finally he was in. If it were her horse, Carmen thought, she would not have housed him in the last stall, where he had to pass all the rest of the horses to be moved in or out.

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