The dining room hums with low conversation. The seating is prearranged again and we sit with two couples this time—an outgoing, pleasant couple from England and a quieter but friendly couple from Florida.
Lying beside the breakfast menu is our itinerary for the day.
A choice of gentle leisure pursuits for the women. A morning of briefings for the men.
I snort quietly before I can stop myself. “Of course.”
August glances at me over the rim of his coffee cup. “Is there a problem?”
“This itinerary,” I wave it in his general direction. “It just feels very… sixties. Do the leisure activities include housekeeping, child-rearing and readying myself for when you come home?”
His mouth twitches. “You can skip it if you want.”
I hesitate before also lowering my voice. “Wouldn’t that look strange?”
“Yes,” he says frankly. “But I’d understand.”
I study him, then drop the itinerary to the table. “No, I’ll go. It’s why you brought me here. And it might be fun.”
Something warm flickers in his gaze. It looks suspiciously like approval. And it makes me want to do more, which is weird, because after Gerard, I swore I wouldn’t do anything to get approval from a man.
“We may have time together in the afternoon,” he says, coasting a smile across the other couples. “Otherwise, we’ll meet for dinner here at seven.”
“Looking forward to it,” I reply, without thinking. Then I’m surprised to realize I mean it.
I decide to opt for the horseback riding, and because I used to ride regularly in California, I’m given a beautiful chestnut mare with a little more spirit than the other horses.
We head off for a canter through the surrounding forest, and I’m relieved that because of the differing abilities, the other women are mostly fretting and not too interested in small talk.
Our return path brings us around the back of the lodge past the conference room where the men are discussing ‘the deal.’
I peer through the window as we pass, genuinely curious to see August at work. When his eyes catch mine from across the large oval table, my heart leaps. He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. Just taps a pen thoughtfully against his lip while holding my gaze.
Our eye contact only breaks when my horse takes me out of view.
When we arrive a couple of minutes later at the stables, I dismount, loosen my horse’s girth and run up the stirrups. Once the horse is secured I remove my hat and shake out my hair, then run my fingers up through her forelock and place a soft kiss on her nose.
“That was just what I needed,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
I turn around and almost jump in shock.
August is standing at the edge of the yard, leaning one shoulder against the archway, watching me, his eyes dark with something patient and dangerous.
I feel nervous as I walk toward him. “I thought you were in the meeting.”
“I asked for a short break.”
My lids flutter as I look up. “Why?”
“So I could check on you.”
I arch a brow. “I wasn’t trying to gallop off, just so you know.”
His gaze drifts over my head and he nods toward the horse. “You have fun?”
When he lowers back to me, I smile. “I loved it.”
“You looked quite at home in the saddle.”
