A Three Day Event by Barbara Kay

Author:Barbara Kay [Kay, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Peloton Press
Published: 2015-09-22T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Sue waited patiently for her chance to speak to Michel alone. She wandered up and down the long aisle where tacking, untacking and grooming procedures were in full progress amongst the diehard boarders willing to ride in the rain. They worked and chatted to the accompaniment of oldies music blaring out of an ancient radio slung from a nail over the bulletin board.

… it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy, and Gawd, I know I’m one…

Sue was prepared to wait until after his first or second ride or until he took a bathroom break, whichever came first. But she was determined to speak to him. Right now Jocelyne was finishing tacking up his first mount of the day, one of the warmbloods. Michel had shed his poncho in favour of a white nylon windbreaker that sported a bold red maple leaf and the Canadian Team logo.

Then Sue got a lucky break. Just as Michel was about to swing aboard, Jocelyne handed him the wrong whip, it seemed, a short, thick one. He shook his head at it and, when Joc turned toward the tack room, he stopped her and handed her the reins. Sue followed him.

Another lucky break. The tack room was empty. Sue slipped inside and quietly shut the door, eyes admiringly fixed on Michel’s tapered muscular back and taut, defined buttocks as he rummaged through his tack box. She leaned noiselessly against the door and planted both feet solidly in front of her. Would he lay hands on her to force his way out? Sue doubted it, but felt a little faint as he straightened up and turned, a long, thin dressage–type whip in hand.

Surprised by the sight of her, Michel uttered a wordless sound of exasperation, and swished the whip against his tall boots in eloquent, elegant reproach. Sue’s heart began to pound.

“Let me pass, please,” he said neutrally.

“I have to speak to you, Michel,” Sue said quickly, cursing the tremor in her voice.

“I’m busy,” he answered curtly. It was a flat rejection with a hint of warning.

Sue was nervous and afraid, but weirdly, a part of her mind was coolly and independently working up a riff for her friends at school.

Okay, so picture it. It’s Harlequin Romance time. And trust me, Fabio is road kill next to this guy. Okay, here’s me pressed up against the wall. A windowless room. Two feet away is this gorgeous stud, gleaming cat’s eyes, dark Byronic curls tumbling over his forehead, full, sensual lips–got the picture?–in these, like, skintight britches, black leather riding boots and–ooh–a long, long whip. Everywhere you look there’s leather straps, hooks, chains. He’s coming toward me. I’m panting, terrified, trembling with emotion…

Michel’s emerald eyes and thick black lashes were stunningly near to her. She could smell his breakfast coffee. She felt sweat trickling down her stomach. Oh, that’s very attractive, Sue. Sweaty bodices are quite the rage this year, I hear.

“Please, Michel, I have to know what went down in Palm Beach. I know you were there.

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