Lies Are The Coward's Coin: The Broken Billionaire Series Book 2

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Lies Are The Coward's Coin: The Broken Billionaire Series Book 2 Page 10

by Nancy Adams


  “You can have this room if you like,” Josh said as I sniffed at the petals. “It’s my favorite and usually where I stay. The balcony makes it excellent. Come, I’ll show you.”

  He took my hand once more and guided me out onto the balcony, the two of us emerging into a pool of dazzling sunlight. In pots all around the edges stood more bright flowers, as well as some large-leaved plants, giving it all a tropical-garden feel among the white marble banister and black-and-white checkered floor. Taking a look around, I saw that the villa sat along a large stretch of rocky coves that stood out from the island. Behind us lay a rolling green carpet of jungle, interspersed by the twisting cracks of rivers, and creased by hills.

  “There’s countless little beaches and caves around here,” Josh commented as he came around the back of me and took me in his arms. “And the fish and corals are beautiful too. But I’m not so sure we’ll have enough time on this occasion.”

  “‘On this occasion’?”

  “Yeah. I hope this won’t be the last time I get to take you out here.”

  An inner light glowed in the dark and broke out in the form of a smile that furrowed my lips. I felt glory in him taking it for granted that this was only a single occasion, that there’d be more. The whole place enthralled me, and I was becoming lost in the utter luxury of it all, drifting off into a dream.

  “The horses downstairs,” I mentioned.

  “Yes.”

  “I take it they’re your father’s?”

  “Of course.”

  “Does that mean we can ride them?”

  “Not all of them, but some of them we can take for a ride. We’ll go tomorrow morning if you like. Take a guide with us. Do you fancy that?”

  The intrepid light burst out upon my lips again, and I replied that that would be probably be the one thing I’d like to do tomorrow morning more than anything else. With the glee overwhelming me, I turned to him and placed those same smiling lips of mine upon his own, kissing him passionately, our hands instinctively searching out each other’s bodily grooves.

  SARAH

  It’s okay. You don’t have to fear for my chastity. It remained intact. We slept in separate beds in separate rooms, and our passions never reached the heights they did in the sauna. The only thing that happened once we’d kissed on the precious balcony was have dinner and then went off for an early night. The traveling, although not exactly exhausting, had taken a lot out of us and we were both asleep by nine in the evening. However, there was another reason for my eagerness to speed up next morning’s approach: I was looking desperately forward to my horse ride.

  I began rousing before the sun had even glimpsed its first sight of the day from below the horizon, and attempted, as best I could, to throw myself back into slumber when I realized that it was too early. But sleep refused to return, and the eagerness awaiting the day got the better of me. The moment the first sunbeams made their appearance, I rushed out of bed and skipped to the sliding doors, tearing them open. I then bounded onto the balcony and took a seat on a cushioned sofa that faced out toward the spider’s web of horizon as the crescent of light slowly emerged.

  I sat there in wonder for about twenty minutes, a sumptuous feeling languidly attaching itself to me as I melted into the sofa. Once the sun was hovering far enough in the sky, I went back to the room, then showered and dressed. Once I had, I sprung out the door and skipped downstairs, expecting the rest of the villa to be asleep. But as I reached the foot of the steps, I was surprised to see Josh walk into the house from outside. I hadn’t expected to find him up and already dressed—I fully believed that only I had been too excited to sleep. He looked just as surprised to see me, standing there dressed in his riding gear: tall black riding boots, tight beige trousers that displayed his formidable thighs, and a olive-green riding jacket.

  “Ah! You’re awake,” he said. “I wasn’t going to wake you for another hour, but seeing as you’re ready, you may as well see the horse I’ve selected for you.”

  He offered his delicate bronzed hand, and I stepped forward to instantly take it. Grinning, he guided me out the door and into the courtyard that was now brightly lit by the rising sun. There we found a man holding the reins of two horses.

  “The black one’s mine,” Josh informed me as we approached the graceful creatures, “and the brown sorrel is yours.”

  “She’s beautiful,” I gasped, letting go of his hand and bounding toward her.

  The moment I reached out and lay my hand tenderly upon her nose, she pushed against my touch and a bond was instantly forged. On that spectacular extensive face was a white strip of hair that started between her reddy-brown eyes and finished midway down. I rubbed this milky slip and she appeared to enjoy it, because she whinnied with pleasure and insisted on my hand’s presence when I attempted to remove it, her head jolting forward.

  I turned to Josh and smiled as he stood there with his hands on his hips admiring my affection for the horse, a wide grin plastered across his exceptionally handsome features. Having been introduced to the horse, we went back into the house and had a light breakfast. I merely ate some watermelon with a little honey and yogurt, leaving it at that, wanting to hurry back to my precious sorrel. Once we’d eaten, Josh took me upstairs and decked me out in riding costume, his father also keeping a wide range of female sizes in these too.

  Now dressed, we bounded out into the courtyard, where our guide (which was what Josh called him, but in truth he was a bodyguard) sat atop his horse and held the reins of both of ours.

  “Don’t mind Chief,” Josh said as we reached them.

  “Chief?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I call him, the guy on the horse. He doesn’t talk much and will just guide us along, stay far enough ahead to be out of the way.”

  We mounted our horses, and although I was worried to begin with, I soon discovered that I’d lost none of my equestrian skills, everything coming back to me the moment I was with the horse. I easily sprung up onto my girl’s back and steadied her. Josh, on the other hand, looked a little out of sorts and needed several attempts to spring himself up onto the horse. Eventually he got there and we were off, leaving the courtyard and disappearing down a track that went away from the villa before curving sharply down toward the shore. We then moved through an avenue of tropical trees, the sunshine glittering down in golden pools through the awning of vegetation. My sorrel was a good horse, and I felt more attached to her with every passing second that she carried me along. Our pace was slow, and the ground, matted as it was with tree roots, made sure that we went along at a steady beat.

  While we moved along, the sound of the crashing sea became more prominent, and I sensed that we were close to the cliff edge, the pathway descending all the time. Then the trees began to disperse a little, replaced by jagged rocks that shot up through the dirt. The rocks became more common, and the whole thing opened out onto a cliff edge that gradually made its way down to the beach through a set of craggy rock ledges that looked more suitable for rock climbers than horse riders. We stopped at the first ledge, the white sands shimmering below, so close and yet so far.

  “What now?” I asked. “Was that it? We go back?”

  “Now we go down,” Josh informed me.

  I fixed my eyes on the rocks again and didn’t understand. They were nothing but a treacherous wilderness and could never surely offer us passage down to the beach.

  “How?” I let out. “Where can we pass?”

  “Watch,” Josh said confidently. He then turned to Chief and said, “Off you go, Chief. Show the lady how it’s done.”

  The man turned his horse around and trotted it to the edge where it stepped down onto a patch of rock, before skillfully turning and descending slowly along the face of the cliff, where the rocks stuck out.

  “But surely we can't do that?” I asked Josh in dismay.

  “These horses know exactly what they’re doing,” he reassured me. “They’ve both done it a hundred times. Just don’t pani
c, otherwise it’ll reach the horse and unsettle her, and simply enjoy the descent.”

  With that, Josh turned his horse and followed the same perilous track down the cliff. With nothing to lose, I went after him, and true to what he’d just said, my brilliant sorrel danced nimbly down the passage of rocks, only occasionally slipping a little and worrying me. But the confident way she would shrug off these slight mishaps and return to her former elegant steps bolstered my own confidence, and I felt something move from the horse into me, a fusion of the two of us, she sending me some unspoken message as I gripped her neck while she stepped along the rugged rocks, Josh just ahead of me, Chief having already reached the beach.

  When I was at the bottom, I came up alongside Josh, then reached across and took him in my arms.

  “That was incredible.” I beamed into his ear as I grabbed on to him, a formidable wave of joy crashing into me.

  He merely grinned back and kissed me tenderly on the lips.

  “I’m impressed,” he remarked. “I wasn’t sure that you’d do it. I’ve taken many people who have claimed to be brilliant horse riders, but most of them turn back. There’s actually another path down, slightly longer and less dangerous. But I wanted to see if you’d follow.”

  “You were testing me?”

  “In a way,” he replied and then shone the glow of his never-ending smile at me. “And you proved to me that you’ve got real heart, Sarah. I knew you were brave, but it takes something more to trust in a horse. I mean, I’ve never had any problems going down that way, but one slip, one piece of panic, and it’s a thirty-foot drop toppling down sharp rocks.”

  “Well, I’m glad I proved something,” I declared, giving him another kiss.

  I leaned back across onto my own horse, and when I glanced toward Chief, I saw that he too was smiling. I got the impression that he hadn’t expected me to follow them down and was somehow proud of me for proving him wrong. I couldn’t be sure of course; the man never spoke, and this smile was all I saw. But I think I may have impressed him. Of course, I can take very little credit; my wonderful sorrel had done all the work!

  For the next hour, we cantered along the beach, the way much smoother and not as hazardous now. However, it was just as fun. The tide had gone out a long way (apparently we were close to the equinox), and this revealed a racetrack of soft but firm sand. Now was our chance to see what our horses could do. Having trotted along for a while, we gradually set our beasts in motion until they were rapidly beating their hooves down on the sand, galloping us along at breakneck speeds, my hands giving up the reins and gripping to my sorrel’s neck so that I could lay low along her spine. Our bodies were streamlined and moving as one, her back dipping and bucking, my body tensing and relaxing to the movement of this monumental achievement of nature as she broke forward and outpaced Josh’s horse, until he was so far behind that I felt the need to sway my girl’s passions and put out some of the fire in her belly. I pulled her reins, and feeling my wishes, she slowed back down to a canter in no time at all, as though proud to show me that she could do so with such ease. Once she was slowed, she swung her head about and neighed loudly, giving me the impression that she was just as happy to have won the race as I was.

  “My word, Sarah Dillinger,” Josh said breathlessly when he’d finally caught us. “You’re an incredible horsewoman.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled. “And do you know something?”

  “What?”

  “This is my first time riding a horse since I was eleven.”

  “And you still rode like that?”

  “My mother taught me to ride when I was only four. I then spent every spare moment I had on the back of a pony or horse. It’s my mother’s Irish roots; we’re natural horsewomen.”

  A sudden pang struck me as I recalled Penelope, my former pony, and the look in her sad eyes that last time I lay next to her in the stable with my arms around her neck. Saying goodbye felt like I was betraying her, abandoning her. It was the hardest part of giving up my former life. The hardest.

  Josh reached across and caught a tear as it dropped from my eyelid.

  “You’re crying,” he said with a considerate look.

  I wiped my eyes and sniffed.

  “Yeah, just another sad memory is all,” I said to him.

  Chief caught us up and we strolled along the beach, not tiring our horses anymore. Eventually we made it to another pathway that took us away from the beach and into the village, along streets filled with market stalls selling fruit, vegetables, hot curries, pastries, and barbecued meats, and teeming with locals who appeared to ignore the presence of three horses strolling through the throng. At some point the market faded away, and we broke out into a wide street of colonial buildings. Passing a school, a crowd of children ran to the cast-iron fence, waving boisterously at us as we passed them. Josh and I waved back, Chief choosing to ignore them, and some of the more cheeky among them blew us kisses through the metal gratings.

  When we returned to the villa, I was both hungry and exhilarated. I jumped off my horse and said a long goodbye to her, resting my face against her soft nose, kissing the patch of white, and thanking her for the splendid ride that she’d most graciously bestowed upon me. My first morning with Josh on the island had been perfect, and as we walked into the house, I locked my arm within his, rested my head to his shoulder, and felt like never parting from this man’s side again.

  JOSH

  I’d been very impressed by Sarah’s skills with a horse. She made me look like a fat man on a donkey at times, and I hadn’t expected her to follow us along the rocks. I guess you could say that she felt she had no choice, that because I hadn’t mentioned the second route and went off, she’d been forced to follow. But that never stopped the ten or so girls I’d brought horse riding here before from screaming at me while they stood behind on the cliff edge, not daring to descend the narrow rock path. Even when I’d assure them that the horse knew the way by heart and would do all the necessary skill, so long as they were calm, the girl would bleat and blab and I’d have to ultimately reveal the second route to her. And of the men I’d brought with me, only my father and a handful of others were ever brave enough to follow. But not Sarah; though nervous, she had followed, and I was immensely impressed.

  And her riding on the beach too. I admit that I’m a little rigid in the saddle, but I would never have expected that after fifteen years of being off a horse, Sarah would put me to shame the way she did, lowering her body so that she became streamlined with the horse. I would never dare such a maneuver, and I rode at least twenty times a year. Watching her, I was witnessing something natural occurring between her and the animal, and once we were back in the courtyard, it had been difficult to get the sorrel to leave her side, the horse being a little stubborn as it was led back into the stable. It was amazing that such a bond could develop in the five hours they’d been together, and I sensed then that there was something fantastical in this girl, something that both myself and the horse could feel, something unspoken and unseen, but there all the same, an eternal goodness that emanated from her.

  Back at the villa we had a very light lunch, because the moment we’d entered, Sarah had turned to me and asked if we could go back to the market a little later on.

  “Of course,” I’d replied. “But why?”

  “Because I want to make us dinner.”

  “But there’s a whole kitchen staff here to achieve that.”

  “That’s not the same and you know it. Plus, you cooked for me back at the Peaks.”

  “I did.”

  “And I want to return the favor. So let me cook for you here tonight. We’ll eat it on the balcony, overlooking the sea.”

  I agreed and we ate sandwiches with a little greek salad for lunch, enough to keep us going until Sarah’s meal later that night. Once we’d finished, Sarah asked if we could take the horses to the market.

  “They’re already back in the stable and settled” was my disappointing answer for h
er.

  Her face took on a little cloud of glumness.

  “They’ve had a long day already,” I went on. “You don’t want to ride them to death. Anyway, I have a better idea.”

  Her spirits lifted a little, and she widened her eyes.

  “What would that be?” she asked.

  “Can you ride a scooter?”

  “I had one when I was younger.”

  “Then we’ll ride scooters into the market. I have a couple of Lambrettas here. They’re a lot of fun. We won’t even need helmets.”

  She grinned a little and nodded enthusiastically.

  Sandwiches and salads done, we made our ways toward the garage and to the classically designed Italian scooters.

  “They’re beautiful,” Sarah admired when we reached them.

  “You didn’t think much of the Triumph, but you don’t mind these?”

  “The Triumph’s just a fuel tank and engine, but these have such style, so elegant and curved.”

  “I still prefer the feel of the Triumph underneath me” was my honest response. “But these are more comfortable.”

  I led her by the hand to the better runner of the two, and she dumped herself down on the fat seat. Then I took my place on mine.

  “I feel suddenly nervous,” Sarah commented as she sat holding the handlebars.

  “You’ve got nothing to be nervous about,” I assured her. “It’s basically just a couch on wheels.”

  I took her through the buttons, indicators, lights, horn, etc, and then showed her how to start it by turning the ignition, holding in the back brake, giving the throttle a little twist, and kicking it over with the kick start. Within a few attempts, she got the bike running and it rumbled away underneath her. I did the same with mine and told her to go easy on the throttle. At a gentle pace, we made our ways out of the garage, across the courtyard, and through the gate. We continued to take it steady along the dirt road that cut through large swaths of sugarcane fields. It wasn’t long, though, before the plantations at our sides transformed into housed streets, and the rough dirt beneath us became smooth tarmac. In these tropical suburbs, we encountered very little traffic and kept abreast of each other most of the time. By now it was midafternoon, and this part of the island was slumbering under the hot sun.

 

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