Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Fiona gathered the reins while simultaneously slipping her boots into the stirrups. Brannagh was excited and sidestepped away from me and Rory, shaking his head repetitively.
“Easy now,” she murmured, giving him a slight kick to the flanks that sent him into a trot.
It was a respectable move because whenever a horse started acting up, the best thing to do was give him a job he knew well, and it was obvious she’d put great effort into training him to respect her command.
Fiona moved her horse in a few easy, wide circles and I couldn’t look away. She was a natural in the saddle and I was captivated by the expressive mix of determination and joy on her face as she directed him down the track to the starting point.
She looked over her shoulder at the first jump as she wheeled Brannagh around and then with another sharp kick, he bolted forward like a bullet expelling from a gun.
They shot across the track, racing past us in a blur. Fiona moved like she was part of the horse—fluid, unshaken, utterly fearless. Brannagh extended into a full-blown gallop and my heart lodged in my throat as he launched over the first fence, landing lightly on the other side with a spray of dirt. Fiona urged him forward, pushing the flight faster. The next jump came fast, but she took it like it was nothing, barely shifting in the saddle.
“Jesus,” I muttered in awe.
Rory watched with a satisfied nod. “She’s got a good eye for distances. Doesn’t second-guess.”
“She’s incredible,” I said before I could stop myself.
Rory side-eyed me and I met his glance. “Aye, she is. And don’t be gettin’ any ideas, lad.”
I grinned, unwilling to promise such a thing and lied straight to the man’s face. “Not a one.”
CHAPTER 7
Fiona
I fastened the delicate gold clasp of my necklace, letting the horseshoe pendant rest just above the neckline of my powder-blue wrap dress. I frowned at my reflection in the mirror, noting the cinched waist made the outfit a little sexier than I had hoped, but my mam picked it out for me and she was obviously as invested in this courtship as my father. She also picked out the strappy heels and ordered me to be wise with my makeup. Without further guidance, I chose to believe she thought I should be frugal with it and merely swiped on a thin layer of mascara, although I suspected she wanted me to be heavier with it.
On the bed, Siobhan lay sprawled on her stomach, her feet kicking idly in the air as she studied me. “Ye look grand, Fi,” she said, her green eyes bright with excitement to see me going on a date. “But yer face is tragic.”
I sighed, adjusting my necklace, then turned from the mirror to face her. “That’s because I feel tragic. I don’t want to go.”
Siobhan rolled onto her back, laughing. “Oh, we all know that, but Da wants ye to.” She propped herself up on her elbows, smirking. “At least Brian’s rich and handsome. Could be worse. Ye could be matchin’ with some daft eejit with bad teeth.”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “Brian’s the very definition of a daft eejit.”
“I’d be more interested in talkin’ about the Yank, to be honest.”
I busied myself with smoothing the skirt of my dress, hoping she wouldn’t notice my slight jerk at the mention of Tommy. “What about him?” I asked casually, even though my pulse had kicked up.
“Oh, come on, Fi,” she said, sitting up to stare at me pointedly. “I saw him today workin’ with one of the horses. Jaysus, he’s somethin’ else.” Her cheeks pinkened. “He’s so tall, and those muscles, and have ye noticed the way he walks? Like he owns every bit of ground he steps on.”
I had noticed. Too much, if I was being honest.
And it wasn’t just how he looked. It was the way he carried himself, the easy confidence, the way he’d flirted shamelessly with me all day, the way he’d watched me as I rode the course, with admiration, not condescension.
I thought back to after my run, when I’d dismounted breathless, my heart still racing from the thrill of flying over those jumps. Tommy had walked back to the barn with me, taking the reins from my hands as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Without a word, he’d started untacking Brannagh, his strong hands moving with ease, loosening the girth, slipping the saddle free.
I’d gone to fetch the grain, my head still spinning from the adrenaline, and when I returned, he’d leaned casually against the stall door, arms crossed, watching me with a look that sent a delicious shiver down my spine.
Those full lips tipped at the corners with appreciation as he watched me approach. I braced for some heavy-duty flirting that I knew would be coming, and God help me, I wanted it.