Her face pinched into a frown, but he caught the flare of pleasure in her eyes and dared her with his gaze to deny it. Suddenly she burst out with a laugh. “Well, it’s not original as compliments go, but the delivery was excellent. I think it deserves at least a standard reply.” She nodded her head. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He braced his elbows against the top of the gate, lifted his fists together and propped his chin atop them, waiting for her to choose the next step. She didn’t disappoint him.
“What are you doing for the next little while?”
He straightened, kept his smile firmly locked away, and spread his hands. “Jock hasn’t said yet. We were going to exercise the stock, but the riding party has taken care of that.”
She hopped down off the gate, saying, “Let’s put the Lady Doubloon through her paces. What do you say?”
He shouldn’t. He knew without a doubt that it wasn’t up to him to make such decisions, but he did it anyway. After all, she was a rich potential source of information, and if Jock “indulged” her interest in horses, she must be good. He lifted the latch on the gate. “Do you really think the princess will go for that name?”
Lily smiled. “I have a little influence.”
“Oh?”
“I happen to know her personal maid.”
Chuckling, he opened the gate. A rich source of information, indeed, and quite, quite lovely.
He was really quite handsome, Lily mused to herself. Though fairly tall—right at six feet, she judged—he did not overwhelm as her brother Damon did. Wiry but solid, he gave the impression of strength, both physically and mentally. And he didn’t have the slightest clue who she really was, though there had been a moment when she feared he had tumbled onto the truth. Those in the stables who were aware of her identity were under strict orders to keep the information to themselves, so she had no fear that he would discover the truth that way. No doubt, it was unfair to mislead him. In fact, it was probably unwise, but she just couldn’t help indulging herself a little. She grew so tired of the sycophants, the hangers-on who could never for a single instant forget who and what she was.
Sometimes she wanted to scream that she was a woman, a flesh-and-blood human being, but she doubted the humanity of those who surrounded her, those of her own social set. They simply wouldn’t understand. Rollie, however, seemed sublimely human. What could it hurt if she indulged herself for a little while in something called “normalcy”?
Rollie led the newly christened Lady Doubloon into the working pen, and turned her loose. Lily bit back an order to secure the animal while Rollie went to the tack room for saddle, pads and bridle. He returned to hang the gear over the fence and rub his hands together eagerly.
“Ready?”
“Are you going to catch her again?”
“No.” He shook his head. “That wouldn’t serve any purpose. I’m going to make her come to me.”
“You’re what?”
He pushed his hat back and brought his hands to his lean hips. “Watch and learn, sweetheart. From over there by the fence, if you please.”
Reminding herself that she was not the princess just now, Lily bit her tongue and did as she was told. Rollie went down on his haunches, hung his hands off his knees and puffed a blustering breath, bowing his head slightly so that he looked up at the horse from beneath his brow. His hair had seemed black in the shadows of the stable. Here in the sunlight Lily realized that the hair scraped back from his even hairline by the band of his hat was the color of dark chocolate.
She studied his face while he concentrated on the horse. Long and lean, with a squared-off chin and boxy jaw shadowed with a murky beard over dark golden skin, it was a distinctive face full of strong features. His mouth was wide and thin but neatly sculpted, his nose somewhat sharp with a slight bump just where it parted his straight, thick brows. The vibrant-blue eyes set deeply beneath those brows had proven both compelling and oddly unfathomable. She admired the breadth of his shoulders and the long, wiry length of his arms ending in big, squarish palms and long, tapering fingers. His booted feet were large; his legs long, powerful coils beneath him, despite his apparent ease as he crouched before the horse.
To Lily’s surprise, the palomino suddenly swung her head wildly and pranced her front hooves. Rollie slid his arms to his sides, hunched his shoulders and bowed his head. After a moment, he slowly looked up again, a smile dancing in his deep-blue eyes. For some reason, Lily found herself holding her breath. Just when she’d decided that she was an idiot for doing so, the horse moved. Head bowed, it ambled over to where Rollie patiently waited and snuffled his hair, knocking off his hat. Rollie chuckled and lifted a hand to rub a flicking ear. For several delightful moments, the horse snuffled as Rollie rubbed his face and hands over its massive head and neck. Then slowly Rollie rose to his full height, careful to keep an arm lightly about the horse’s neck.
Lady Doubloon tolerated this familiarity for some time before cantering off around the corral, playfully kicking up her heels and tossing her starlight-pale mane. She swept by Rollie repeatedly, coming closer and closer. Other than retrieving his hat, Rollie stood his ground, letting the mare brush him as he laughingly avoided her hooves by shuffling his feet. Eventually, the horse cantered to a stop, hooves cutting grooves in the soft soil of the corral. Sides heaving, she blew into Rollie’s palm. He ruffled her mane and hugged her, while Lily simply marveled.
Long minutes later, Rollie turned and walked calmly toward Lily and the tack spread out on the fence. Lady Doubloon fell into step beside him, for all the world like a friend out for a stroll.
“Get down,” Rollie said to Lily. “Bow your head like I did.”
Lily did as instructed, sinking down onto her haunches. After several moments, she felt the horse nosing, and then lipping, her ponytail. Rollie quietly instructed her, when to lift her hand, how to return Lady Doubloon’s curious caresses. They were well known to each other, she and Lady Doubloon, and it didn’t take long to establish what Lily could only call a firm friendship.
The saddle went on first, but was not cinched until Rollie deemed Lady Doubloon to be in agreement. When Lily pushed the bit between her teeth, the horse offered no resistance whatsoever.
“I’ll take a seat first, if you don’t mind,” Rollie said, having adjusted the stirrups. Before Lily could answer, he swung up into the saddle, clearly not used to being gain-said, despite the polite phrasing. He simply sat for a while, making himself comfortable in the saddle, before reaching for the reins, but even then he held the horse still. After some time, he got down again and began shortening the stirrups. “Your turn,” he informed her.
Lily mimicked his behavior. She’d been on Lady Doubloon’s back before, but the mare hadn’t exactly been thrilled about it. This time, the horse seemed not only willing but eager.
“She’s ready,” Rollie said. “Take it slow and announce your intentions first.”
“Announce my intentions?” Lily echoed.
He squinted up at her. “Just keep it simple. When you want to go, say so before you touch your heels to her flanks.”
“I suppose you think she’ll understand me,” Lily quipped.
“She will eventually,” he replied lightly, stationing himself at Lily’s knee.
Considering all she had just seen, Lily was not inclined to argue. She picked up the reins and said, “Let’s go, girl.”
When she touched her heels to Doubloon’s flanks, Rollie instantly stepped off. A split second later, the horse stepped off, too.
“Left,” Lily announced, and just as she laid the rein against Lady Doubloon’s neck, Rollie turned. The horse followed smoothly. This went on for some time, until