by Lia Lee
“I know, but you’ll have to trust me too.”
“I do. It’s Miss Gaines I’m less sure of.”
***
“Where did you even find a ranch on such short notice?” Jules asked.
He had to smile at the way she blushed, the way the flush of her pink cheeks seemed to complement her strawberry blond hair. Xavier handed her an athletic strap to help hold her glasses on, since trying to ride a horse without being able to see where one was going was a recipe for utter disaster. Everything about Jules was endearing, not just seductive or delicious. He’d had many women in his life. He’d never cheated. Yes, he’d had casual flings with more than one woman at a time. God, Lisette and Carrie were part of that. But he was committed when he was in a long-term relationship. He just hadn’t been in one since Tina and the mess that had followed. What he felt for Jules, had felt even before they’d made love yesterday, was something deeper.
It was that damn connection that he couldn’t explain.
Then again, maybe it was everything Jules had to offer. This freedom, this enthusiasm, and her kindness. She was one hell of a woman, and he wanted her to be in his life beyond Spain. For longer than that. For a damn sight longer if he had anything to say about it.
“Antonio is an old friend of the family. My mother was a dressage champion, competed in the Olympics but only got bronze. Anyway, when my mother started to miss riding, Father made some calls and found this ranch while we were here. Antonio breeds horses that win races all over the world. A few are descendants of Triple Crown winners.”
She whistled. “Like the Belmont Stakes and all the rest?’
He arched an eyebrow at her. “I thought you didn’t ride.”
She reached out and combed her fingers through the long, flowing mane of the Arabian. It was as dark as midnight. “I don’t, but I’m from Maryland. We love having the Belmont. In high school it was a big thing to watch on TV…and, okay, drink a bit afterwards.”
He nodded and helped her saddle her horse, doing the straps and girth up as he talked. “Yes, Mother wasn’t going to compete, and she didn’t ride while she was pregnant, but she missed this. When I came along, she’d take me out here as soon as I was big enough to sit on a pony. I had a horse of my own by the time I was seven.” He turned to his own steed, a massive beast close to nineteen hands high, and put the saddle on its back. “I’m just going to take us out on the ring. I don’t know if you’re ready your first time for country trails. A lot of the land in Barcelona is hilly, and that’s a new world on a horse.”
“Why?” she asked, staring at him intensely, curiosity brimming in her ice-blue eyes.
“Because going downhill for a new rider can be terrifying. Your weight shifts and you have to work not to slip off over the neck.”
That delicious flush spread down her throat, coloring even her collarbone. “Well, I wouldn’t want to wipe out my first time on a horse, ouch.”
He nodded and then stroked her cheek with his hand. “I promise you that I’ll never let you fall.”
Xavier meant that too. She was his now, and he’d protect her. Last night in the alley, he could have lost her, and he’d leapt without fear for himself to her defense. That feeling still coiled through him, heated as any fire, and he was going to keep protecting her as long as she let him.
That bright smile lit up her face like stars in the night sky. “I’m glad for that.” Then, she quirked her head at the modest-sized mare before her. “I have no idea how to hop up on her. I…is there a step stool or something?’
He took her hand and led her to the old mare’s left side. “You need to get on this side first. All horses are socialized to be mounted from the left.”
Her grin turned impish. “Only mounted from one side, must get routine.”
He pinched the cheek of her rear in response to the joke. “You minx. It makes sense as a tradition. Back in the day, soldiers carried swords, and they mounted them in the best way to accommodate that.”
“And this horse is still tall!” she countered, before glancing at his. “Okay, so it’s not the monster you’re riding, but it’s still pretty big. I’m not like six foot plus of hot guy.”
“You think I’m hot?”
“You know I do,” she said, standing on tip toe and kissing his lips and then, to his utter shock, the indents of his dimples. “So what do I do?”
“Put one foot in the stirrups, and I’ll help you up.”
Granted, he could have gotten a step, but that wouldn’t have allowed him to run his hands slowly over her torso, to let his breath trail against her skin, and to then caress the firm roundness of her ass. No, a step just wasn’t as fun.
Placing his hand firmly on her hips, he counted to three and helped her up. Maneuvering around the horse, he ran the stirrups up and helped get everything settled for her. Tossing her the reins over old Tornado’s head, he smiled reassuringly back at her.
“This old mare has been on Antonio’s farm for over twenty-five years. She knows how to deal with any rider, has ferried children and kids with disabilities. She’ll be gentle with a first-timer.”
Jules took the reins and gathered them in both her hands and dug her feet into the old stirrups of the western-style saddle. It was larger and roomy. Even if she started to fall, she could always reach out and grab the horn on the saddle’s pommel. Of course, he hadn’t been kidding about the mare’s disposition. She was the sweetest animal Antonio had ever owned, and was the horse his brother Javi had first ridden.
In a few brisk movements, he’d mounted Trueno, the gelding that was still as fierce as a mustang. The horse had thundering hooves that sounded across the sand. This was his favorite horse out here, the one he made time to ride when he was back in his native land and doing work for his company. There was no speed Trueno couldn’t match.
Clicking his tongue, he kicked his heels against Trueno’s side and led the horse as well as Jules and Tornado to the ring. After they were settled inside, one of Antonio’s hands shut the gate behind them. Xavier coached Trueno to walk side by side with Tornado. From his vantage point on the high steed, he was looking down on Jules, able to admire the brilliant red glint in her hair.
“So we’re just going to walk around a bit.”
“How daring,” she said. Then she let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I’m not exactly a cowgirl, but I would like to see you. I know you said you wished you could train horses professionally if you had a choice in life. I want to see you show your stuff.”
He nodded as they made a lap of the circle. “I tell you what. I’ll give you a bit of a demonstration, and then we’ll let the ranch hands take these back to the paddock, and I’ll show you a surprise off trail.”
“I’d like that.”
***
The sun was getting low in the sky as he helped Jules lead her horse to the center of the ring. To be fair, he’d seen worse first-time riders. She hadn’t slipped off, although in a saddle that roomy it would have been hard. She had a few panicked grabs on the horse’s mane when she’d almost slipped off, and her posture was all wrong, but she’d done fine. The old mare had done her job yet again, and it was worth all the effort and coordination to see that golden smile beaming from her face.
“You sure you want a show?” he asked.
She nodded but still clutched the reins tightly. “I want to see everything you’ve got.”
He led Trueno to the side of the ring up against the railing again. He choked up a bit on the reins and shifted his body into a low crouch, the third position for the canter, and then clicked his tongue. His thighs contracted around the horse, applying pressure to make it surge forward. Then they were off like the wind.
Even with his helmet on, Xavier felt the breeze hit his face, the strength of it tangling with his hair and battering his T-shirt. He kicked Trueno’s side and they were off to a gallop, feeling as if the horse’s very feet weren’t even touching the ground. It was like flying, the closest to real power and f
reedom that he ever felt in his life. The scenery passed by him in a blur, a dazzling mix of the settling sun’s orange, the dusty brown of the adjacent fields and the occasional flash of Jules’s brilliant red hair.
This was what he missed when he was trapped behind a desk.
What he missed in countless meetings with partners and accountants and advertising executives. That was a rat race. A false life. The only things that were real included this intoxicating freedom on his favorite steed and the love building in his heart for Juliet Gaines.
Gradually slowing his pace, Xavier eventually led Trueno back to the ring. He dismounted first and then helped Jules off her mare. They walked with joined hands to the trail as Antonio’s workers took care of the horses they’d left behind.
Her hand was so small in his. He didn’t know why she never seemed small, except when he reflected on it. When he saw her daily, she was this storm of energy, always busying herself everywhere. Jules felt larger than life, but when he held her soft, fragile hand in his, Xavier was reminded there was more to her than that. She could be lost, could be injured, just like earlier in that damn alley.
“You’re frowning,” she accused as they slid farther through the trees and out of sight of the farm. “Are you okay?”
“Just thinking,” he said. “Everything last night was terrifying.”
She shook her head, which surprised him. “No, it wasn’t. I knew you’d take care of me, and you did.”
He wasn’t sure he felt like a hero. If anything had gone wrong, they wouldn’t be here now.
Squeezing her hand, he added, “I hope I always can take care of you. I did everything I could.”
“And you kicked massive ass,” she said before her tone sobered to match the sincerity in her blue eyes. “Seriously, thank you for saving me. You’re better than Superman.”
He chuckled. “I’m not sure about that.”
“Well, you don’t wear crazy tights and a cape, so you’re definitely better.”
They walked in silence for twenty minutes more, heading deep into the woods until they came to a secluded hill where he’d already set up the night’s picnic. The sun was almost set by then, casting orange-and-pink hues over the sky, and all of it seemed to be reflected in the glinting highlights on Jules’s hair.
She grinned when she saw the spread before her. “Wow.”
“Did you expect anything less? I know you have to be starving.”
“Okay, so I know it looked like Tornado was doing most of the work, but I am pretty famished,” she admitted, sitting down on the blanket and pulling out the small plates from the basket.
He followed her lead. “These are tapas. The finger appetizers you get at bars around here. I brought some fried potatoes, some fresh grilled veggies and cheeses, and of course the best thing you can put in your mouth—roasted octopus braised in its own ink.”
She blanched and then gave him the once-over with her eyes. “I’m going to be honest. I’m pretty sure that’s not the best thing you can have in your mouth.”
“First of all, fair point. Second, you philistine, it’s amazing.”
She frowned. “Look, I’ve had calamari, and I know that people give Marylanders a hard time for literally pulling the lungs out of blue crabs before we eat them, but I don’t know if I can do ink.”
“It’s just a braising technique.”
“Sounds creepy,” she said.
He picked up a chunk between his fingers and pressed it to her lips. “Try it.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Nuh-uh.”
“Wimp.”
“Oh, I’ll show you,” she said, taking the soft white flesh in her mouth. Jules slammed her eyes shut as she took a few bites and then she started to moan. It made him almost jealous of the damn octopus with how into it she was. “Wow. That was…wow.”
He smirked triumphantly back at her. “I told you that it would be.”
“You didn’t say it was like an explosion of awesome in my mouth.”
“I’m pretty sure that I would never say ‘explosion of awesome.’”
“Well you should. You’d get people to eat these more.”
“I don’t want to share a romantic picnic with anyone else.”
She nodded but her expression became stiff, her smile sliding off her face. “You don’t have to make this more than it is. I understand you have a pretty…I dunno…good setup going.”
“Setup?”
“Carries and Lisettes, and who knows who all else.”
“But I found you now, Jules, and I don’t want it to just be today or through the trip or even just casual when we get back.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a velvet box. “Now, don’t freak out.”
She gasped but took the box from him. Popping it open, she gazed down at the silver St. Christopher medal. “I don’t understand.”
“He’s the patron saint of travelers. I thought it was fitting for the trip, but maybe it’s fitting for both of us. I think we’re both still traveling in the world, trying to find our place. I’m not sure what I want from my family’s company, and you know that the heart of a filmmaker beats inside of you.”
She slipped the necklace on and kissed his cheek. Warmth spread through him and his length grew hard with lust. “Thank you.”
“It’s real silver, and it’s like a promise. I know we’re just getting into a relationship, but I promise to be loyal to you, promise to give you everything on my end of the relationship. You only have to take it.”
“I…”
He cupped both her cheeks in his hands and kissed her, plumbing into the depth of his mouth and bringing his tongue into a dance for dominance with her own. Her breath tasted of saffron and other spices, and her lips were soft against his own. The sweet scent of lilacs teased his nose. When he pulled back, Jules was gasping for breath.
“I…”
“Just say yes.”
Tears prickled at her eyes and she fingered the necklace, a dark shadow passing over her features. “There’s so much I need to tell you, but I don’t know how.”
“We can get to all that later, just stay with me. You don’t have to move in, unless you want to. God knows the family estate in Northern Virginia is massive. There are wings I’ve never seen.”
“Wings?”
“Yeah, but after last night, after you almost got stabbed, I thought for a long time. I don’t want to risk losing you.”
She swallowed. “Because we met with Lisette almost braining me?”
“Yes.”
“I…we’ll date, and I’ll work on the movie while I’m here, but I still need my job, and I don’t want to rush into anything. I trust you.”
“Good. I trust you too.”
She kissed him again, and as she pulled away, he heard her mumble something he couldn’t quite make out. Had she said he shouldn’t trust her?
No, that couldn’t have been right.
“You know,” she said, putting the plates back into the picnic basket and moving it from the blankets to the grass, “I think there’s a way I can thank you for last night, for saving me. For everything.”
Her voice took on a sultry, husky timbre that made blood pound directly to his length. He was growing uncomfortably hard, feeling the lust filling him and making him desperate for her, for her taste and the feeling of her soft skin under his fingers.
“What can you do?” he asked, letting his own voice turn into a low, rumbling purr.
She got to her hands and knees and reached first for the hem of his T-shirt. “How alone are we again?”
“There’s no one near this spot for a kilometer in any direction, at least. Antonio’s farm is pretty remote.”
“You planned that part too?” she asked.
“It might have crossed my mind,” he said.
Her fingers moved with deft precision as she hefted the hem over his head. “I’ve been daydreaming about so many things to do with you,” she said, her voice like velvet to his ears, as sweet an
d gooey as honey.
She ran her fingernails over the ridges of his abs, her fingers tracing obscure patterns that only she knew over his skin. He hissed as she pressed her lips to his abdomen, right above his belly button. Her tongue poked out and she laved at the sensitive skin there, running her soft appendage over the ridges of his stomach, teasing him with every caress of her tongue. Then she leaned lower, tracing her tongue down toward the waistband of his jeans, tasting just the beginning of the fine trail of hair there.
He moaned and ran his hand through the soft length of her hair. “You minx.”
“Oh, you know what I’m going to do,” she said. Nimble fingers undid his buttons and she smirked when she looked up at him. Her eyes were the color of a stormy sky over an ocean, and she licked her lips. “You didn’t wear underwear today. Seems like you were hoping for something like this.”
“Maybe,” he allowed. Of course, it hadn’t exactly been a brilliant idea to go horseback riding with only denim between him and the horse. Xavier certainly wouldn’t do it again, or recommend it to any friends. “What are you thinking?”
She licked her lips again, deliberately drawing out the motion so his eyes would be drawn to the soft pinkness of her mouth. “Oh, you know.”
The thin, delicate fingers of her right hand wrapped expertly around the shaft of his member. Just as he’d imagined, the very touch—that special caress—was everything he’d wanted back in his hotel. The Mistress of Schlock was coming out to play, to be a true vixen who would tempt and tease. With her other hand, she reached down and cupped the heavy sac of his testicles, her fingers rolling them with deft attention. She gave him one last, impish grin before bringing her lips to the head of his member.
She blew on it at first, a hint of heat that made his testicles clench with need and his body ache from excitement. He was like a bomb cued up to explode, the seconds ticking down on him, and she was the woman sent to set him off.
Her tongue flicked over the head of his length and just barely tasted him. Small, slow strokes that Xavier thought would end up being the death of him, a careful procrastination that made his blood boil and his need for more grow deeper. She licked next time, long languorous tastes of her tongue smoothing over his erection. Then she wrapped her puckered mouth around his root. He arched his hips and met the warm, inviting recesses of her mouth. Jules arched her neck and took him in so deeply that he was amazed at her abilities.