Read Online Beneath the Surface by Melynda Price - Free Book Online

pay for security. He wasn’t pleasant to be around. Then again, she was no picnic herself these days. They’d started off on the wrong foot months ago, and it appeared they’d continue down that path until someone made the effort to build a bridge and take the high road. Considering she was on his turf, asking him for help, she supposed that person should probably be her.
    While she was here, she’d do her best to be cordial. With any luck, the SD card would arrive at Violet’s soon. She regretted getting her sister involved even this much, and never would have done it if she’d had any idea this would happen. Never once had the possibility of a US connection entered her mind.
    She had originally planned to visit Violet after coming home, and pick up the package there. But now, she couldn’t take the risk of traveling and leading anyone to her sister—not after what happened to Emily. The apartment had been ransacked. To do that kind of damage would have taken time—time one wouldn’t want to spend around a crime scene unless they were looking for something. The attorney general she’d spoken with knew about the SD card, but he didn’t know it wasn’t with her. Quinn cursed herself now for being so trusting. What a fool . . .
    The shrill cry rang out again, briefly startling her. Only this time she recognized the sound. Horses . . . Asher had horses? She hadn’t noticed them when she’d arrived yesterday. Funny, he hadn’t exactly struck her as an animal lover. The whinny sounded like it was coming from the backyard. Curiosity had her tossing aside the covers and crawling across the bed to investigate. She padded toward the window and stopped at the sight of Asher standing in the yard below her.
    Sweat glistened on his bare, muscular shoulders as the sun beat upon his tanned flesh. He wore a pair of jeans that hugged his hips, the handle of a gun poking out of the waistband. A large black horse was attached to a lunge line held loosely in his hand. Asher’s muscles rolled and flexed as he transferred the rope from one hand to the other, with the horse trotting in a circle around him.
    Once it passed in front of him again, he shifted his weight and bent his knees. The horse abruptly stopped, pivoted on its back hooves, and reversed direction. Amazing . . . It was like watching the two of them acting out a choreographed dance. They were completely in sync with each other.
    Unbidden, the memory of dancing with Asher came to mind—being in his arms, guided and controlled by the lead of his powerful body. He’d moved with such fluid grace, just like now . . . only this time he had a much different partner.
    She wasn’t sure how long she stood there watching him lunge that horse. He must have sensed her watching him after a while, because his head lifted and he looked up at her. Asher’s brow arched, a shit-eating grin tipping the corner of his mouth. What was he smiling at? It took her a moment to figure it out. When he pointed up at her, she realized just exactly what it was that he found so damn amusing.
    Oh good Lord, he could see up her shirt!
    Quinn gasped and stumbled a few steps back from the window. Grabbing the hem of the T-shirt, she pulled it between her legs. She could see him laughing as he turned around, shaking his head, and resumed working the horse. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, though she wasn’t sure why. What did she have to worry about? He’d made it abundantly clear last night that he wasn’t interested in her.
    “He doesn’t do shrew, remember?” she snarked to herself as she turned away from the window and left to go find the laundry room and retrieve her clothes. She didn’t have far to look. When she opened the bedroom door there they were, folded in a neat little pile on the floor with her white lace bra and panties sitting right there on top. Perhaps she should have found the gesture thoughtful, but the idea of Asher taking the liberty of touching her