The Pretender (14 page)

“You touch her gently, like this,” he told her as he demonstrated. “She can feel a fly when it lands on her, so you know how sensitive her skin is.” And she nodded, watching his
hands move over the horse’s glossy red-brown hide like a lover’s caress, and wouldn’t have been able to reply if her life had depended on it. She was too busy trying to keep her imagination from feeling that same gentle touch on her own skin.

Next, he showed her how to put on the saddle and cinch it tight, how to slip the bridle bit between the horse’s teeth and pull the strap up over her
ears. His nearness while he did that made her heart thump and her breath catch and her skin prickle with goose bumps.

Then she noticed that while he was telling her how to put her foot in the stirrup, holding the reins and the saddle horn in one hand, he kept well beyond touching distance, and instead of showing her on Morning Glory, demonstrated on his own horse, Diamond.

With a mental
sigh she thought,
He’s noticed. I’ve scared him off, poor guy. I’ve got to have better control.

Frowning in concentration, she watched him put the toe of his boot into the stirrup and swing himself into the saddle in one easy motion. Now, he seemed to loom far above her, until he leaned over the pommel of his saddle and smiled down at her.

“If you’re waiting for me to give you a leg
up…sorry. If you’re going to ride, you’d better know how to get on and off your horse by yourself.”

She tossed her head and gave him a scoffing laugh. “Hey, I’m a dancer, remember? I’ve got strong legs.”

“Yeah?” He reared back with a taunting smile. “Then let’s see ’em.”

“Huh. Okay, smartass, watch this…” Shivery with excitement, she set her teeth, gripped the saddle with both
hands the way he’d showed her, poked the toe of her left boot into the stirrup, and hoisted herself up. And it was easier than she’d thought it would be, because of course she
did
have a dancer’s strong legs and supple body.

Once firmly in the saddle, she turned to give Sage a smile of triumph. He chuckled softly and turned his horse’s head toward the meadow.

She’s a natural,
he thought,
without surprise. He imagined it had a lot to do with having a physically fit body, as she’d said, but he thought it was more than that. The innate grace he’d noticed before, something in her genes, maybe—and why not? The way she sat on her horse like she was born to it, she reminded him a lot of her grandfather. As far as Sage was concerned, as old as he was, there was no better horseman alive
than Sam Malone.

In any case, she seemed to have gotten over her fear pretty quickly, and when he asked her if she was ready to try a faster pace, she didn’t hesitate—although he did hear a little bit of a gasp when Morning Glory first broke into a trot. But then he noticed she was bobbing up and down from her knees, lifting out of the saddle, trying to time the gait.

“No, no—that’s
the English way,” he said, moving in closer to her, close enough that his knee brushed hers, though he hadn’t meant it to. “Out here we ride Western style—butt glued to the saddle. Okay? Relaxed and easy…see? What you want is to be one with your horse.”

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered, her voice bumping with the jolting of the horse’s gait.

He grinned. “Flopping up and down gets
you branded a greenhorn. And I don’t imagine the horse likes it much, either. How’d you like something heavy bouncing up and down on your back?” She threw him a dirty look, and he laughed and moved out ahead of her, leaving her to work it out by herself.

A few minutes later she rode up even with him, looking kind of mulish, and said, “How’s this?”

He let his gaze drop to the place
where her butt met the saddle—a mistake, probably, but the heat that spread through his insides felt good, and he didn’t try to stop it. He brought his eyes slowly back to her face and drawled, “Lookin’ pretty good…for a greenhorn.”

“Hah!” He could see she was trying hard to hide a grin of triumph. “Okay, cowboy, what’s next? Do we gallop, or what?”

Lord, but it was hard to tear his
eyes away from her. He just wanted to go on looking at her, smiling and goofy as a kid. But he shook his head. “How ’bout we try an easy lope first?”

“A lope—sure. What’s that?”

“Call it a slow gallop.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“Yes, you can…ready?”

She nodded—game for anything, and his heart quivered with delight in her. But when he nudged Diamond into a lope and Morning
Glory did the same, she wasn’t quite so brave. She uttered a little squeak of fear and grabbed the saddle horn. He dropped back to ride beside her.

“Let go of the horn, grip with your legs,” he told her. “Find your balance. Find your rhythm. Just like a rocking chair.”

She nodded again, a quick little bob of her head, but he noticed she still kept that death grip on the saddle horn.
Her jaw looked rigid as rock.

“You can do this,” he said gently. “Trust the saddle.”

She flashed him a brave look that touched his soul, the way she seemed scared to death but determined to do it anyway. He gave her a smile of encouragement. Slowly, she uncurled her fingers from around the horn, though her hand still hovered nervously inches above the pommel. Again, he moved away from
her, giving her some room. And when he saw a smile spread across her face—yes, like a sunrise—and she turned to him a face alight with purest joy, he felt something sweep through him like a pollen-laden breeze, making his nose tickle and his eyes burn.

“This is
great!
” she yelled a few moments later as they loped along together, side by side. Tentatively, she lifted a hand to the bundle
of hair at the nape of her neck and gave her head one quick hard shake. The wind picked up her hair and carried it out behind her like a banner, and she laughed out loud, like a child.

Chapter 8

H
e’d never seen anything so beautiful.
God help me,
he thought.
I could fall in love with this woman.

They rode down to the south end of the meadow, slowing to a trot, then to a walk to give the horses a breather while he gave her some tips to improve her form. Heading back toward the barn, he picked up the pace to a lope again, having decided he wasn’t quite ready
to let her go for a full gallop just yet. But he couldn’t say he was all that surprised when Sunny passed him, leaning forward in her saddle and giving Morning Glory her head. As she left him in the dust, he heard her give a whoop that could have been either joy or terror.

He took off after her, swearing under his breath, thinking she was going to get herself either killed or hurt, and what
in the hell was he going to tell Sam? But when he caught up with her, just before they reached the corrals, he saw she was laughing, and any thought of being mad at her for scaring him to death flew right out of his head.

Pasting what he hoped was a scowl of disapproval on his face, he leaned over and caught Morning Glory’s bridle and turned her into the corrals.

Sunny gave an indignant
squawk. “Oh, no—really? We have to quit
now?
” Her eyes were bright with excitement. “But I was just getting the hang of it. Did you see me? That was a gallop, right? That was the most—” Then, evidently the expression on his face got through to her and she broke off with a guilty frown. “Oh, no—you’re mad. Was I not supposed to—”

“I’m not mad.” He let out a gust of breath. “Have you always
been this foolhardy?” And he gave up trying not to smile. How could he stay irritated with her when she looked so damn happy?

She smiled back, radiantly, and raked her fingers through her windblown hair. “I didn’t think so…” Laughter burst from her, as if it couldn’t be contained another second. “Seriously—do we have to stop? Oh—I’m sorry—” She pressed fingertips to her lips. “Do you— I
guess you probably have other stuff to do—”

“It’s not me,” he said as he dismounted, nodding toward her. “You’re the one that’s not used to this. I don’t want you crippled up.”

She made that snorting laugh. “As if. I told you, I’m a dancer. I’m in shape.”

An understatement if he’d ever heard one. He rubbed the back of his neck and said patiently, “Yeah, you are. But you’re not
used to a saddle. Trust me. Riding uses muscles nothing else does. You don’t believe me—” he caught Morning Glory’s bridle and gave Sunny a nod “—try getting off your horse. Right now.”

The look she gave him was arrogant, confident, disbelieving. But she got off her horse with fairly decent form and turned to him with a smug little smile.

“Now, walk,” he said.

She took a step,
still holding on to Morning Glory’s mane. And halted. Her face crumpled into a frown of dismay that was almost funny—except he knew how she was feeling. “Oh, God. My legs don’t work.”

He just laughed and led the horses into the barn, figuring he could do her the favor of letting her figure out how to walk again without an audience. At least save her some pride.

“Well, that was embarrassing,”
she muttered when she joined him a few minutes later, still hitching and hobbling.

“Yeah…it’s tough finding out you’re human, ain’t it?” He didn’t look at her, because he didn’t have a lot of confidence in his ability to keep his feelings off his face. He hauled Morning Glory’s saddle off of her and carried it over to the rack, picked up a brush and brought it back with him.

“Here,”
he said as he handed it to Sunny, and his voice had turned thick and gruff. “Rub your horse down and turn her out, and then you can go home and soak in a hot tub. That’ll help.”

On the other hand, he was afraid the only thing that was going to help him was a cold shower.

He kept his eyes on Diamond and his concentration on getting the horses unsaddled and turned out, and by the time
he’d finished with that and was standing with Sunny in the corral watching the two horses go galloping into the meadow to find a patch of warm dirt to roll in, he was pretty sure he had himself under control.

It had been a good day, he thought. And at least for the most part, he’d managed to keep his hands off of Sam’s granddaughter.

He hadn’t counted on Sunny all of a sudden turning
to him and throwing her arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her breath warm and close to his ear, “that was one of the best things ever in my whole life.”

“Really?” he croaked, brilliantly. Which was about when it occurred to him where his own arms were and what they were doing.

Sage was pretty sure tightening his arms around a beautiful woman who had just thrown
herself into them would qualify as a reflex action on the part of a normal, healthy man. He was also pretty sure he knew what a decent man was expected to do with his arms once his thinking mind was back in charge. He knew what he
should
do. But damned if he could make himself do it.

So, his arms stayed where they were, wrapped around her, and her body fit against his as if she were the
missing piece he’d been looking for all his life. She felt slim and strong and supple—all the things he’d seen and known she was already—but so much more. She was warm and surprisingly soft. Her whole body seemed to quiver and pulse with energy and life, and holding her made him feel as if he’d been plugged into the same power source. He felt bigger, stronger, fearless and mighty.

“Really,”
she murmured, pulling back to look into his eyes. She was touching his face. Her hand lay softly along his jaw.

He looked back at her and knew he would kiss her, now. And knew it was right and inevitable, and that it didn’t matter if he’d only known her a couple of days, didn’t know her at all, in fact, and that she was Sam Malone’s granddaughter and heir. Kissing her seemed like the most
natural thing in the world to do…like taking his next breath.

He tilted his head slightly and heard the sigh of a breath from her waiting lips…and then, from her pocket, came the tinkle of a Broadway tune.

“Damn,” she whispered, and her body had gone rigid.

He was conscious of his hands, one on the small of her back, the other higher up, under her tumbled hair, almost to the
nape of her neck. Her body felt hot against his palms, burning hot, like something forbidden.

Abby shuddered when he took his hands away from her, as if she’d felt a gust of cold wind.

He tucked his burning fingertips in his pockets and lifted his eyebrows. His smile felt crooked. “
A Chorus Line?
Really?”

She laughed without humor, at the same time frowning as she looked down
at her cell phone.
Pauly, of course.
She hit the ignore button and shook her head. “Stupid thing only works down here, for some reason.” She shoved the phone back in her pocket and tried to smile. “That’s okay—I’ll call him back.” Oh, how she wished…

Can’t we go back? Hit Rewind and go back to the place where you were about to kiss me, before the phone…

But of course, that moment was
gone forever.

“Him?”
Sage asked as they walked through the corrals, back to the barn. His voice sounded casual, only mildly curious.

She glanced at him, but he wasn’t looking at her, and she could see a muscle working at the hinge of his jaw. Her heart began to beat faster. “Yeah…Pauly. He’s my—”

“Boyfriend?” he said, just as she said, “Agent.”

He did look at her, then,
a quick hard glance, sharp and black as obsidian. “Agent?”

“Yeah…” She didn’t seem to have enough breath. Giddy laughter tumbled inside her. “No boyfriend.”

“Huh.” He muttered something she couldn’t quite catch as he turned his gaze upward, evidently finding something fascinating in the barn’s rafters. She found that incredibly endearing.

Abby bit back a smile. One moment might
be gone forever, but that didn’t mean another might not be waiting in the wings.

“Pauly’s a friend…but not like that. God, no. He was—” She stopped herself, heart hammering. She’d almost said,
He was Sunny’s friend, too.
She hitched in a breath and finished it. “He was my roommate’s agent—and friend—too.”

Sage nodded. “The one that was killed.”

“Yeah…”

Slowly, they walked
through the shadowy barn and through the big open doorway, into the sunlight. The awareness that shimmered between them was almost visible, like heat waves. In the lane, Abby paused and turned to him, shading her eyes with her hand.

“So…I guess you probably have things…”

With uncharacteristic awkwardness, he hooked his thumbs in his jeans’ pockets and frowned at the ground. “Yeah…I
do.”

“So…can I come back tonight? To help with chores?”

His black eyes came up to meet hers; his smile spread slowly. “You sure you want to?”

“Yes!”

“Well, all right, then.”

“Will you teach me to milk?” Why was her voice so breathless, so husky?

“Well, I guess we’ll see how it goes.” His voice, too, sounded deeper, slower than usual. The air between them seemed
to have thickened.

“And…can we go riding again?”

“Uh…how ’bout tomorrow?”

She tried not to smile, but it was like trying to stop her heart from beating. “Okay.”

He smiled, too, in that way he had that left his eyes grave and dark. “Well, all right, then.”

“So—guess I’ll—” Her phone tapped out the first bars of “One.”
Jeez, Pauly, give it a rest.
She gave a frustrated
laugh. “—Um—yeah, so, I’ll see you later.” She shrugged a mute apology for Sage and turned, thumbing on the phone and lifting it to her ear as she walked away and left him there.

“Yeah, Pauly, what is it?”

“Hey, what’s with the attitude? I just called to find out how you’re doing. You said you’d call and I hadn’t heard…”

“Yeah, it’s been what, a whole day?”

“Well, excuse
me for caring.”

Abby pressed her thumb and forefinger against her eyelids and let out a long slow breath. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that…things are kind of awkward around here right now, okay?”

There was a pause, and then: “Still haven’t told them about Sunny?”

“No! How can I? I haven’t even met her grandfather. Nobody even seems to know where he is.” She halted in the middle
of the lane and cast a quick, guilty look around. Even though there obviously wasn’t another soul anywhere near her, she lowered her voice. “Pauly, they think I’m
her.
”

“What—you mean
Sunny?
”

“Yes.” It was half hiss, half moan. She hurried on into Pauly’s shocked silence. “I didn’t mean for it to go on this long, Pauly, I swear I didn’t. I just—well, the plane ticket was in Sunny’s
name, and it couldn’t be transferred, so in order to use it I had to use Sunny’s I.D., right? I was going to come out here and tell him in person—the grandfather, I mean. It seemed better than just blurting something like that out over the phone, or, God forbid, in an email. But then, he wasn’t here, and nobody seems to know when he’ll show up, and…the longer it goes on, them thinking I’m Sunny,
the harder it’s going to be to tell them the truth.” An image rose before her mind’s eye, Sage’s smile, his somber eyes, and she squeezed her eyes shut in futility.

Pauly’s silence seemed to go on forever. She heard him clear his throat. And then: “You sure you have to?”

She couldn’t have heard him right. She whispered, “What?”

“Think about it. They’ve already accepted you as
Sunny. Why do you need to tell them any different?”

“
Why?
Jeez, Pauly.”

“I’m serious. The old man wants an heir, he’s never met the real one, who happens to have been tragically murdered, so why not give him what he wants?”

She felt cold and sick. Like throwing up. “Why not?” Her voice was shaking. “B-because it would be a lie.”

Pauly laughed. “You’re an actress, kid. You
lie for a living.”

“That’s different.” She was trembling.

“Yeah? How?”

“Because the audience is in on it!” She was yelling now, one hand pressed against her forehead. “And it’s not illegal!”

“Well,” Pauly said, and his voice had a strange note in it she’d never heard before, “looks to me like you’ve already committed fraud. Haven’t you?” She said nothing. She felt cold…and
for some odd reason, frightened. “Look,” Pauly went on, and his voice was kind, now. Cajoling. “You’re lying the way things are now, aren’t you? What’s the difference if you lie a little longer? Maybe get something out of it.”

“They’ll find out,” she whispered.

“Who’s gonna tell them?”

“Uh…DNA?” Abby was shaking so hard she could barely hold the phone.
Oh, God, Sunny…what have
I done?
“Look, Pauly, I’m not doing this, okay? It’s…it’s just crazy.”

“Come on, Abby, it’s not crazy. Think about it. What’s the old guy to you—”

“No!”
She jabbed the disconnect button and turned in a desperate circle, wanting nothing so much as to hurl the phone into the bushes.