Made for Marriage. Helen Lacey
carefully secured red hair didn’t budge as she nodded enthusiastically. “Thanks for the pep talk. I’ll go and get our stalls sorted.”
Callie organized their gear once Fiona disappeared. Both horses were already groomed, braided and ready for tack, and by the time Fiona returned Callie had saddles and bridles adjusted and set. It took thirty minutes to find their allocated stalls, shovel in a layer of fresh sawdust, turn the horses into them and change into their jackets and long riding boots.
Callie’s first event was third on the agenda and once she was dressed and had her competitors number pinned to her jacket she swung into the saddle and headed for the warm-up area. The show grounds were teaming with horses and riders and more spectators than usual, which she put down to the mild October weather. She warmed Indiana up with a few laps around the ring at a slow trot and then a collected canter. She worked through her transitions and practiced simple and flying changes. When she was done she walked Indy toward the main arena and waited for her name to be called.
The dressage test was a relatively simple one, but she gave it her full concentration. This was only her third show in as many months and she wanted to perform well. Indiana, as usual, displayed the skill and proficiency in his movements that had seen him revered by followers of the show circuit when she had been competing years before.
Before it all went wrong.
Before Craig Baxter.
Handsome, charming and successful and twelve years her senior, Craig had been a gifted rider. So gifted, in fact, that Callie often overlooked his moodiness and extreme perfectionism. Because underneath the charm and success, it had always only been about the competition. About results. About being the best.
And nearly four years after his death she still hurt.
It’s better to have loved and lost …
Yeah … sure it was. Callie didn’t believe that for one minute.
Love hurts. And it was off her agenda. Permanently.
What about sex? Is that off the agenda, too?
She’d thought so. But … in the last week she had been thinking about sex. Lots of sex. And all of it with Noah Preston. The kind of sex that had somehow invaded her normally G-rated life and made her have X-rated thoughts. Well, maybe not X-rated—she was still a little too homecoming queen for that. But certainly R-rated …
The announcement of her score startled her out of her erotic thoughts. She bowed her head to acknowledge the judges and left the dressage arena. As she cornered past three other riders waiting for their turn Callie eased Indiana to a halt. Because right there, in front of her, stood the object of all her recent fantasies.
Chapter Three
Dressed in jeans, a black chambray shirt and boots Noah looked so damned sexy it literally made her gasp. He held keys in one hand and a pair of sunglasses in the other.
She stared at him, determined to hold his gaze. Finally, curiosity got the better of her and she clicked Indiana forward. “What do you want?”
He moved toward her and touched Indy’s neck. “Nice-looking horse.”
“Thank you,” she said stiffly, hoping he couldn’t see the color rising over her cheeks. Callie collected the reins and swung herself out of the saddle. “Did you want something?” she asked again once both feet were planted on the ground.
“I did.”
So tell me what it is and go away so I can stop thinking about how totally gorgeous you are and how much you make me think about wanting all the things I never thought I’d want again.
“How did you know I was here?”
“Your apprentice told me where to find you.”
Joe? Callie wanted to ring his neck. “So you’ve found me. And?”
“I’d like to talk to you.”
Callie tilted her chin. “What have I done now?” she asked, clutching the reins tightly so he wouldn’t notice her hands were shaking.
He half smiled and Callie’s stomach did a silly leap. “I guess I deserve that,” he said.
She moved Indiana forward. She wouldn’t fall for any lines, no matter how nicely he said them. She wouldn’t be tempted to feel again. She couldn’t. It hurt too much. “Oh, I see—today you come in peace?”
“I wanted to apologize.”
“You’re a week too late,” she said stiffly and led the horse away. Callie felt him behind her as she walked—felt his eyes looking her over as he followed her past the rows of small stables until she reached their allocated stall.
Fiona came out from the adjoining stall. “Hi, Noah,” Fiona greeted with a cheek-splitting grin. Callie didn’t miss how the other woman’s hand fleetingly touched his arm.
Clearly, no introductions were required. Fiona saw her look and explained that she taught his son at the local primary school and took an art class with his sister, Evie.
“So you two know each other?” Fiona asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “We do.”
“I’d better go,” Fiona said quickly and began leading Titan from his stall. “My event is up next. Wish me luck.”
Callie watched her friend lead the big chestnut gelding away and then turned her attention to the man in front of her.
“Okay,” she said. “You can apologize now.”
He laughed and the rich, warm sound dipped her stomach like a rolling wave. Callie felt like smiling, but she wouldn’t. She wanted to be mad at him—it made her feel safe.
“I overreacted last week,” he said. “I know Lily took your horse without permission.”
Her chin came up. “Bravo. I’ll bet saying that was like chewing glass,” she said as she opened the stall and ushered Indiana inside. Then she clicked the bottom door in place. “So,” she said, “was there something else you wanted to discuss?”
“First, that you reconsider and give Lily riding lessons.”
Callie didn’t try to disguise her astonishment. “I thought you were going to find her another instructor.”
“Apparently you’re the best around.”
“Yes,” she replied, fighting the rapid thump of her heart. He was close now. Too close. “I am.”
“And I want the best for my daughter.”
“You should have thought about that before you called me an irresponsible nutcase.”
His green eyes looked her over. “Is that what I said?”
Callie unbuttoned her jacket. “Words to that effect,” she said, feeling suddenly hot and sweaty in the fine-gauge wool coat she’d had tailored to fit like a glove. She longed to strip off her hat, but the idea of him seeing the very unattractive hairnet she wore to keep her thick hair secure under the helmet stopped her.
He smiled. “Then I owe you an apology for that, as well.”
“Yes, you do. So, anything else?”
“That you give me another chance,” he said quietly. “I might be a jerk on occasion … but I’m not such a bad guy.”
She snorted and that made him smile again. God, her hormones were running riot. Did this man know how earth-shatteringly gorgeous he was? She had to pull herself together. He leaned back against the stall and Callie watched, suddenly mesmerized as the cotton shirt stretched across his chest as he moved. One step and I could touch him. One tiny step and I could place my hands over his broad shoulders.
“So,