Page 6
She’s standing in my hallway looking at me like she has every right to be here. And the first thing I notice isn’t the annoyance in her expression or the reason she marched into my house without an appointment. It’s her. All of her.
Petite and athletic, with pale skin that makes the dark brown of her hair look even richer. Golden-brown eyes that are far too direct for a woman speaking to a man she barely knows. And a body built from years of riding rather than vanity.
Her fitted riding pants show off strong thighs and toned legs, while the simple long-sleeved cream top tucked into them does little to hide the shape beneath it. Nothing about her outfit is meant to attract attention, which somehow makes me pay more attention.
Brava.
A beautiful woman who has no idea she’s beautiful is usually more trouble than one who does. And the attraction is instant, heightening all my senses until they are honed on her.
I step aside. “Come with me.”
She doesn’t ask where we’re going. She simply follows, which tells me she’s either very confident or very stubborn. I’m beginning to suspect the second. I lead her into my office and close the door behind us. I move around my desk and lean against the edge, facing her while she remains standing a few feet away, shoulders straight and chin slightly lifted.
Interesting. Most people become smaller when they enter this room. Katya appears to have grown an extra inch.
“So,” I say, crossing my arms. “Tell me about L’Oscuro.”
She gives me a look that could strip paint. “The horse you supposedly own?”
My mouth twitches. “I’m beginning to understand why Aldo said you’re passionate.”
“I’m beginning to understand why Aldo didn’t tell me you’re apparently planning to sell one of the best horses on the property,” she retorts.
There it is. The reason for the invasion. I keep my expression neutral. “Who told you I was selling him?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“The stable hand said Mr. M. was going to sell Oscar.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Oscar?”
She scoffs. “Of course, you don’t know his barn name.”
I almost smile. This sexy woman who has piqued my interest has been in my house for less than five minutes, and she’s already offended on behalf of a horse.
“Then educate me.”
“L’Oscuro is Oscar.”
The name catches my attention because of the way she says it, with the familiarity of someone who knows the animal rather than simply working with him.
“L’Oscuro?” I repeat.
“Which means the dark one,” she replies hotly.
“I speak Italian, Katya.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Then why did you ask, Mr. M?”
Because I wanted to hear you say it. The thought comes so quickly that I almost say it aloud. Instead, I study her. I realize that I want to hear my name on her lips.
“Call me Dario.”
She blinks. “Mr. M. is fine.”
“I don’t like it.”
