He could hurt me, couldn’t he? No one here could stop him. Surely not my sixty-three-year-old instructor, who wasn’t as strong as he once was. And my father’s goons weren’t even here. Normally, there was no need to be guarded so closely on our own property.
Maybe it’s time to change that.
But the closer the horse took me, the more something surged in me.
The sun peeked from behind a gray cloud, momentarily blinding me, and I squinted my eyes. Because this wolf… was he smiling?Yes,he sure was. One corner of his mouth was slightly up. And had I not picked up on the subtle incline of his eyes toward the stallion, I would’ve thought he was doing it for… me.
“There you are,” the stranger said in a low voice that went past his lush lips—a voice like dark molasses poured slow and rich that coated every word in sins too heavy for me to want to imagine. The horse stopped in front of him, bowing his head in greeting, offering his submission. “Well done,” he praised the animal.
I gulped.
Taking him in, I noticed how different he looked from the boys at college, and maybe it had to do with the fact that he wasn’t one.He was a man, and he was older, maybe somewhere in his early thirties.
A wave of heat washed over me, my clothes suddenly heavy.
I was too hot with the winter vest on top of my jacket.
Too hot beneath the white breeches hugging my thighs.
Too hot with my helmet on, which I knew I shouldn’t remove while still up on the horse. But I did it anyway so the cool air could kiss my forehead.
Everything was suffocating.
The motion got the stranger’s attention. His gaze slowly lifted to me—piercing and deadly, painted in the pale yellow of dawn with uneven specks of spilled whiskey. What a strange color. Strange and… incredibly alluring.
His smile faded.
And his features—that sharp jawline with neatly trimmed stubble—hardened at the sight of me. It made me that much more defensive knowing he wasn’t pleased with me, for whatever reason.
“And who are you?” he asked, sounding bored, as he retracted his palm from the horse’s snout.
Who am I? Who am I when he’s on our property, andhe’sthe intruder?
I looked back at my instructor, hoping he’d intervene, but he was fully engaged in whatever heated conversation he was having over the phone on the other side of the arena.
The stranger tsked, a disappointed, corroding reaction that sent a flicker of shock through my body. “Cat got your tongue?”
Scowling, I kept my tone equally bland when I answered, “Victoria Romanov. And you’re trespassing.”
I swung my leg over the saddle, sliding down in one fluid motion, boots hitting the ground with a muted thud. A mistake, really, because now I was way below his size. The urge to climb on the horse was strong, but I would’ve looked stupid doing so. And insecure.
Heart in my throat, I waited for his reaction not knowing what to expect. I had been right earlier when I compared him to a wolf. He was attractive—cunningly so. The kind mothers wouldn’t want their daughters hanging out with because he broke hearts.
But it wasn’t just about the way he looked. It was his stance, his confidence. Nothing seemed to faze him. He moved with a grace so lethal he seemed to have all the time in the world to do what he pleased. And maybe he did.
Then there was his scent—the muted amber, the smoky sandalwood—it invited you in. In fact, everything about this man beckoned me closer. He was the kind of predator that could’ve lured you in without a sound, then devoured you slowly, savoring every inch, burying your bones somewhere no one would ever find them.
He had to know these things about himself.
“Tell me,Victoria, do you enjoy being told what to do?”
The air in my lungs whooshed out.
“Excuse me?”
The corner of his lush mouth went up as he jerked his head toward Sasha. “You looked at him before you answered me. Do you often seek approval from men to do what you want?”
I snorted an incredulous laugh, annoyed at my speechlessness. But I watched him closely, and I noticed how his smile barely widened, never reaching his eyes.
