The Passionate Italian by Catherine Dane

Author:Catherine Dane
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf

Chapter Nine

‘I’ve chosen a very nice quiet mare for you,’ he said. ‘First I want to see you ride her in the school.’

Hmm, so he’s not sure I’m any good, Serena thought, wishing fervently she'd had more practice of late and hoping she wouldn't let herself down after she'd told him she could ride. The smell of horse warmed leather was pungent and familiar in her nostrils, taking her back to her teenage summers. She’d been more than competent then. She hoped she still was. She didn’t know why it was so important, she just knew that she wanted to be good for Hawk, wanted to see approbation in his eyes, have him tell her she was doing well. Like your father never did; the nasty worm of neglect festered still. She thought she’d got over it a long time ago, but perhaps she never would.

The past made her belligerent. ‘Don’t you think I can ride?’ she said crossly.

‘How would I know,’ he said shortly. ‘I’m just not prepared to let you on one of my horses until I assess your capability for myself. I don’t want their mouths ruined.’

Serena gasped in annoyance. As if she would go sawing at the reins and pulling hard on the bit! Privately she acknowledged he was right to be cautious but why couldn’t he just take her word. She’d told him she could ride. Why couldn’t he just believe her? Because he doesn’t think a woman capable of doing anything. He’s just an arrogant Mediterranean misogynist. Pleased with her assessment and determined now to show him she strode ahead to where a groom was holding a pretty chestnut mare.

Hawk’s voice, calling in Italian to the groom, incensed her further. ‘Lead her over to the mounting block.’

Serena gritted her teeth. What kind of novice did he think she was? ‘No need for that,’ she rapped out to the poor innocent groom and adjusting the stirrup irons and taking the reins in one hand, her hand lightly on the saddle, she swung herself up. For one awful moment she thought she might not make it. The ignominy of getting her leg stuck half way and having to try again flashed through her mind but old expertise stood her in good stead. She was up, taking the reins in her hands and settling herself comfortably in the saddle. Round one to me, she thought triumphantly.

She cast a disdainful look over her shoulder at Hawk and turning her mount rode over to the sand school. Hawk watched her go, an amused look on his face. I’m beginning to get her, he thought. Press the stop button with this one and it was like pressing start. He walked behind her admiring the sway of her rounded bottom in the skin tight jodhpurs. She has a very nice seat, he grinned to himself.

Standing in the centre of the arena, a long thin leather training whip in his hand, he watched her put the horse through its paces. She was

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