She slipped past him, stirring up the scent of roses all over again. He really should know better than to inhale deeply whenever she was near. It just created all kinds of unwelcome sensations like making his tongue feel as if he’d eaten too many salted chips. He glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes at her retreating figure and her manic dashing between the darkened stalls. If it weren’t for Persephone, he’d follow her. He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. To hell with his father and to hell with unwanted women on his land!
“I’m so sorry, Damon. I did mean to come earlier, but the landslides and the floods . . . all my visits have been delayed.”
He dropped his hand at the sound of his old mentor’s voice and his lips broke into a wide smile. “Mr. Kavilas. It’s a relief to see you. Persephone has—”
“Gone into labour early I hear. Let’s go and see her. And, Damon, my name is Tony. Even after all these years, you still insist on calling me Mr. Kavilas?” The older man shook his head, a small smile pulling at his lips, and Damon followed him to the stables.
“Bandaged tail, iodine, rubber gloves? I am impressed Damon. This makes my job easier and quicker. Rafe said you did not know what to do.”
Damon could feel Alena’s eyes burning into him, and he forced his gaze to remain on the vet, who was whispering soothing words to the mare. “Yes, well, erm, the Internet is a wonderful thing. Is she going to be okay?”
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t tell this man about Tia. It shouldn’t be a problem, and Mr. Kavilas might even be able to take her in his truck to Arios, but something made him swallow the words.
“Relax, Damon. I know this is Persephone’s first foal, but she is doing fine. You need to hold her, and then I will pull the foal out. Alena and Rafe, you will need to leave.”
Damon exhaled sharply and grabbed the reins, ignoring the darts of pain as they cut into his fingers. His head felt light, and he looked down into the wide brown eyes of the mare. She looked as scared as he felt. God, why did his legs have to feel like jelly now? He had sustained enough injuries over the years, thanks to his escapades, to not feel faint at the sight of blood, but watching this—no, he couldn’t think of it. He had to hold it together, for Persephone at least.
His ears pricked up at the sound of a small snuffle, and he shuffled sideways to see a small grey foal lift its head.
“Congratulations, Damon. It’s a filly.”
He felt his heart float at his friend’s words, and he unclipped the bridle as the mother turned to greet her baby.
“Will she, the baby I mean, be okay?”
“Oh yes, fine. We can leave them now. Persephone will know what to do from here. But I must say, such interesting bandaging of the tail. Something I would have done, but you’ve never seen me bandage a horse’s tail before. Have you?” Doubt laced his mentor’s voice, and Damon shook his head. What did the bandage have to do with anything?
“Mm, okay. In which case, I should go now. I have lots of other patients to see. Take care, Damon.”
Damon’s shoulders felt lighter as he followed his friend to his truck. The cool air made his bare arms tingle, and he pushed his hands under his armpits, nodding at the departing vehicle.
One crisis down, one to go.
“Is the foal going to be okay?”
Damon turned at the sound of Rafe’s voice. “Yes, but she will need an eye on her over the next few days. I may have to trust you with that. I”—he inhaled deeply—“will have some matters to sort out.”
His shoulder dipped as his friend’s stocky hand landed heavily on his shoulder, “You can count on me as always. Is this anything to do with the woman who helped you save our foal? The one who is now outside the main house?”
Hell! So that was where she got to.
“Yes and no and . . . I have to go.” His stomach churned, and he swallowed the dryness in his throat as his legs ate up the distance to the house. He couldn’t let her get into the house. It would be too much of a risk to his future and his sanity.
A lone, dark figure was balancing perilously on the railing of the large porch of the house, and his stomach dipped at the sight. Great! She had picked the broken railing of all places. Knowing his luck, she would fall and sprain her ankle. Then what would he do? Be stuck with his father’s spy in his house. Wait, maybe that was her—their—plan all along.
“Hey! Get down from there!”
He could see the movement of her head thanks to the moon and the cloudless night sky. “From this view, you can see the Big Dipper. Look, it’s that one over there.” Her voice was faint as she swung one arm up to the sky, the other holding on to the railing. “And there is Sirius, the Dog Star. Did you know it is the brightest star in the night sky?”
“Bandages and constellations. Is there nothing you don’t know about?”
“How to fix a car.”
His lips pulled unwillingly into a wry smile at her dry reply, and he stepped closer slowly. “You really do need to get down from there.” That railing had been on his jobs to do list for a long time, and he had meant to get around to fixing it.
“Do not worry about me. I am fine.”
He could see her body arch in various directions as she attempted her descent. Pitiful. He stomped across to her and sucked in a deep breath. There. Now the scent of roses would have no effect on him whatsoever. Especially as there was only one thing for it now. That was, unless he wanted his behind sued. Geez, what level would his father not stoop to?
“Hold on to my hand. It will be easier to get down.”
“No, seriously. I am okay. I can do this.”
His eyebrows shot up at the sharpness in her tone. If that was the thanks he was going to get for trying to help, then she deserved to fall and it would serve her right!
“Sorry for being rude. Guess I am better at dismounting.” Her voice was muffled as she dipped her head, but the one word resonated through his brain like a bell in an empty church.
“Dismounting? I thought you didn’t ride horses.” This was it. He had her. Now he could ask her about the real reason she was here. Of course, that would mean he would have to breathe around her, but he was a grown man, not a teenager, and he could control his body’s reactions.
“Did I say that?” Her chuckle was sharp and short, and if he didn’t know better, forced. “I meant descending.”
The railings squeaked under her movements, and her body stopped. Damon rolled his eyes. She would never leave at this speed! The railings squeaked their protest again, and he reached up instinctively. His hands spanned her waist, and her croak of protest disappeared as her body swung around to his and slid down to the floor, her torso pressed very neatly into his. Too neatly in fact. A perfect fit.
His fingertips tingled from the warmth of her skin, thanks to the jumper and T-shirt rising up in the semi-drop. Her breath was soft against his face, and his scalp prickled at the sensation. If he leaned in any closer, he could . . .
Hell! What was he thinking? He could, would, do nothing. This woman, this intruder, was . . . well, he wasn’t sure of that yet. But he wasn’t going to find out the hard way, the way his mother had when his father hadn’t returned to her, despite saying he would.
He dropped his hands, and her feet hit the wooden porch with a thump. He rubbed his hand across his chest as her eyes sought his. They were wide and stunned—from the drop or from being near him, he wasn’t sure. He stepped backwards, and the railing groaned under his weight as his back knocked into it.
“So . . . how is the foal?” Her words were as loud as cannon fire in the stillness of the night.
How did she look so composed while the adrenaline was pumping so fast around his body he could run around the farm, twice? Grrr! He needed to pull himself together.
Right, here went nothing.
• • •
“It’s a filly. Grey coat, strong legs. Mr. Kavilas, the vet, said she was going to be okay.”
Tia nodded heavily and reached fo
r the railing beside her, gripping for dear life. Thank God for its support. Her head was swimming, no thanks to him! Why couldn’t he have just let her get down by herself? Her skin burned from his touch, and her nerves tingled. No, instead of leaving her, he had to hold her, close. Too close for her sanity. Even when Antoine had held her hands, she had never felt this . . . rush. Sure, she had dreamed this was how it would be, but she had ever felt it before now. Not that she had any experience with men. Maybe this was just her bad luck, and in time, it would have grown with Antoine, if she had not had called off the engagement, that is. After all, he had been Geo’s best friend, but even after all the years . . .
“I was thinking Athena. Athena Olympus.”
He was still talking. Her brain zeroed in on his words, and ice crept into her veins at her middle name. “Athena?”
“You don’t approve? I hope naming her after the goddess of wisdom will make her a stronger racer.”
“Oh yes! Of course. The, erm, goddess.” Her words sounded lame even to her ears.
“Mr. Kavilas seemed impressed with your bandaging skills.” He lowered his voice, and she thought, judging from the upward tilt at the end that if it was more a question than a statement.
“Thank you. Like I said, I have many, some might even say random, skills.” Some, like her parents, and those skills being ones not highly suited for a princess. “I am glad the vet was able to make it. I take it that it was not the royal horses that kept him away?” Tia held her breath. This was the moment she would change his mind. After all, that had been her mission, hadn’t it? That had been the argument with her parents that had propelled her out of the palace and that had gotten her here. Well, not here exactly, but Arios.
“No, it was not. Not this time at least.” His words were clipped and cooler than before.
“Well, you cannot blame them for the landslides. Even they are not powerful enough to control the weather!” Her joke fell on flat ground judging from his stony silence. Fine. Let him be like that. A battle won was better than a whole war lost. And she was determined to win this.
But maybe on a different playing field. A playing field like Arios where she could pretend to be an ordinary gift shop attendant and ask the questions she needed answers to.
If you don’t like the answer, ask a different question.
His words pounded through her brain. She didn’t need to ask a different question. She just needed a bigger pool of answers to work with. One opinion, from this man with his toned body and strong arms and . . .
She slammed on the mental breaks. She should definitely not go there. Attraction was one thing and it was stupid. Purely a chemical reaction. She needed logical science, not hormones. These things happened in stories, not real life. She cleared her throat, wishing she hadn’t, thanks to the soreness the loud noise now induced. “On another topic, not horse related, when did the tow company say they would be able to pick up my car and take me to Arios?”
She had meant to sound determined and energised. Instead, she sounded nearly flat, like a tire with a slow leak. “The nearest company deemed it not an emergency, so the tow truck won’t be here till tomorrow morning at best. As for going to Arios, I will take you early tomorrow myself.”
If it weren’t for the strong and very real support of the railings under her fingers, she could have sworn she had fallen into Alice’s Wonderland.
“That is not necessary. I mean, there is Athena to look after and . . . and, just no.” She shook her head and felt the wig. It was coming loose! And that was another reason he could not drive her anywhere. If her wig came off then it would reveal her true identity not to mention, she could not be this close to him and remain logical!
“Think of it as a thank-you from all of us.”
“But that would mean that I would need to stay here, and I really, really do not want to impose.” If she gritted her teeth any more, she would need dental work.
“Oh but I insist. Besides, there is no imposition as you’d have to stay anyway. There is a small room attached to the barn, and it has all the mod cons. You can sleep there. I will get you some blankets.”
His feet thudded heavily on the wood, like a giant from a fairy tale.
Fairy-tale hell! This was one of those unedited, original ones instead of the happy Disney ones—even if they all ended unrealistically. After all, who always wanted to end up with Prince Charming?
A broken-down car and a room in a barn. Some fairy tale. Welcome to the real world, Princess Tia.
Chapter 4
“Sleep well?”
It was the voice that had haunted her dreams—that was, if she had slept. Which she hadn’t.
“Like a baby.” With colic, she wanted to add, lowering her lashes a fraction as he made his way towards the jeep. He seemed more imposing now than he had last night, if that were even possible.
Tia cocked her head to one side. Of course, that could be because the sun’s morning rays had highlighted his strong jawline and dark stubble in a way last night’s moon hadn’t managed to. Or because his attire of fitted, worn jeans and a white T-shirt added to his pirate appeal.
Appeal? She dropped her head against her chest. She must be more tired than she thought. It wasn’t appeal he had, at least not to her. His looks may appeal to some women, she would grant him that, but she was not one of them. She was a woman who had a bigger picture to paint than that of a wife and mother. If she had wanted that, she could have stayed with Antoine who was listed every year in the Top 10 of EligibleBatchelors.com on the Internet.
“Are you coming?”
She nodded and rubbed her hand over her face, wincing at the sting in her eyes. Darn it, why did they still hurt? She had taken out the contacts last night. They had to go, she knew. She could not very well sleep in them.
“What is the matter?” She dropped her hands at the sound of his exaggerated sigh and stepped back as he began walking towards her. No, no, no. Get back in the car! she wanted to shout. She had never been as vain as her twin, but a basic wash that morning was not enough to entertain acceptable company—even company such as him.
“Nothing. I will be there in a moment.” She blinked quickly as tears pricked her eyes and ran across her cheeks, and she sniffed loudly. Lifting up her hand, she wiped it delicately under her nose, her eyes widening at the dark shadow that cut across her own.
“There is no need to cry. You can come back anytime for a visit.”
Oh, the nerve of the man! She pressed her lips together at the dry comment and jerked her head up, her lips dropping into a small o. Blue. His eyes were blue. Not the sharp blue of a cloudless sky but a grey blue like an angry squall at sea. How had she not noticed that last night? She inhaled sharply, wishing almost instantly that she hadn’t, as the smell of coffee and hay and that darn sandalwood again hit her nostrils.
This close, she could make out dark blue circles around his irises. His eyes looked familiar. Where had she seen eyes like this before? They kind of reminded her of her ex’s, but Antoine’s were a forest green.
The tips of her ears grew warm under his penetrating gaze. She was used to being stared at by strangers, and her brain reminded her that he was a stranger. Yet the timpani-style beating of her heart mocked that suggestion. Strangers, normal strangers, never made her feel this. Like she had just jumped from an aeroplane and was free-falling without a parachute.
“Your eyes. They aren’t brown anymore.”
He leaned in closer, his head mere inches from her, and her back collided with the barn door behind her. “They were always this colour.” Rats. Why didn’t she just admit the truth? Ha! And have him cart her away like the French Revolution? No thank you.
“They are turquoise. Yesterday they were brown. Care to explain.” From his tone and the way he crossed his arms over his broad chest, she didn’t think it was much of a question.
“I was . . . ” She flicked her gaze up to the clouds willing an answer to drop from heaven, only to see the strands of
her wig blowing upwards. Her Jackie O wig. That was what Geo had called it when she had bought it for one of their many costume parties. When her parents had let them have fun, when there was fun to be had. “Party.” The word gushed from her lips like water from a freshly dug hole, and she pressed her lips together as a new excuse began to form. “I trialed them for a party, and they did not suit me so I decided against them.” Satisfied, Mr. Nosy Parker? Okay, so she knew she could not add that last part.
“You are going to Arios for a party? Wouldn’t you have missed it by now?”
“No, because it was not last night. It is in a few days, but you know, the hostess needs help and . . . things.” She rolled her hands in a circular motion, hoping he would pick up on the subtle clue about all the things a hostess would need to do. If only she had paid more attention to her mother when she had been telling her these details instead of spending time on her laptop and experimenting with computer codes. “So we should probably go. Excuse me.”
She sidestepped him and made her way towards the jeep. Her eyes roamed across the rusted patches, and she peered into through the dirt-encrusted windows to the thin lining of the interior. This was going to get her to Arios? She may be better off waiting for the tow truck.
“Your chariot awaits, my lady.”
Her eyes sought his in the reflection of the window. Her heart went thump at the small twitch of his lips, highlighting a dimple in his cheek that she swore was not there earlier. That or she had not managed to make him smile earlier and he was only smiling because she was going.
Well, that was fine by her. She was as happy to leave as he was to see her go.
She pushed her shoulders back, grabbed the door handle, and swung it open, pushing back a giggle of glee as he had to move quickly to avoid being struck by the door. It would serve him right for standing so close and . . . and having that dimple.
The Runaway Queen Page 4