caught up with Pippa, she stood beside some large pines. Deep South shook his head, as if to say, “Come on, you’re late.” Untethered, her horse wouldn’t move unless Pippa requested. That was the kind of bond they had, like most of the people around her. She obtained respect by simple acts of kindness. How could she and her brother be so incredibly different?
Now, how to get off the horse without showing the pain radiating through his thighs? A dismount sans groan, he could do. Foot out of the stirrup, he grit his teeth as his hip joints returned to sockets and swung his leg over landing on the ground with a solid thud. He leaned his head against the filly’s flank. Maybe Pippa missed the awkward dismount.
“Little sore?” she breathed into his ear.
Damn, he had absolutely no luck today. “Not at all. I’m used to my legs being wrapped around a four-legged torture device.”
She chuckled and wiped her hand along the horse’s flank. “Buttercup is as sweet as her name. You should walk for a couple of minutes to loosen the stiffness.”
His attempt at moving his legs was laughable. Week-long missions, with minimal rest, and he’d never experienced this kind of tightness in his inner thighs. He glanced at her. “No wonder your legs are so sexy.”
She blushed, pivoted and walked to a tree stump, gracefully sitting on the sawed off trunk. “Why are you looking for my brother?”
“Same as before: our squad is concerned and I believe Wilson knows the whereabouts of my friend.” Basil squatted, bounced, and stood upright, which helped relieve the burning in his muscles a little.
“What’s your friend’s name?” She broke a piece of twig from a nearby tree. Pine scented the air and a sappy love song played through his mind.
He stared at her, concentrating on her eyes to see a sign of truth or deceit when she answered. “Harrison Lombard.”
She looked to the left for several moments. “I don’t recall the name. When we get back to the house you can point him out in the group photo. Or perhaps you have an image of him on your cell?”
“I don’t. I lost my cell and a front tooth during my last mission. Actually I don’t have any photos at all with me.” He dug around in his pocket. “I’ve a new phone though, and I’ll take one of my little daisy .”
Wind blew a strand of hair into her face. “Don’t. I’m sweaty and without makeup.” She tucked the black piece around an ear.
His heart caught. The woman didn’t realize her beauty. Free of cosmetics, she could be a cover girl on a fashion magazine. “Just one, so I can say I used the phone’s feature.” He coaxed, “Say cheese, Pippa.”
Deep South nudged her back. She smiled and leaned against her horse. The love they felt for each other was evident in her soft smile and his gentle nuzzling. Basil pressed the button and snapped the perfect picture of her. Her image would keep him warm on the many cold nights to come as he tracked his friend’s killer.
“You’ve got your photograph. Come”—she tapped the sawn-off tree trunk beside her—“have a seat.”
“Ah, love, if I sit I will not be able to get back on the hag.”
Buttercup grunted. Deep South whinnied in response. Giggles came from Pippa, making her all the more attractive and innocent.
“Come, it’s a warm fall day, no rain so the ground is dry. Let’s pick a spot.”
“Fine.” A grin lit her face and warmed her eyes as their gazes met. “Just for a couple of minutes because I have a full schedule.”
He held out his hand. She took hold, and he pulled her to her feet. Holding onto her, he led her to a grassy patch littered with pine needles away from the trees. A ripple of joy rushed through him. Phillipa was indeed the light in his dark world.
Settled on the fragrant grass, he placed one hand behind his head and the other between them, their shoulders touched. She sighed and nestled beside him. Her hand rested mere inches from his, and he considered
Now, how to get off the horse without showing the pain radiating through his thighs? A dismount sans groan, he could do. Foot out of the stirrup, he grit his teeth as his hip joints returned to sockets and swung his leg over landing on the ground with a solid thud. He leaned his head against the filly’s flank. Maybe Pippa missed the awkward dismount.
“Little sore?” she breathed into his ear.
Damn, he had absolutely no luck today. “Not at all. I’m used to my legs being wrapped around a four-legged torture device.”
She chuckled and wiped her hand along the horse’s flank. “Buttercup is as sweet as her name. You should walk for a couple of minutes to loosen the stiffness.”
His attempt at moving his legs was laughable. Week-long missions, with minimal rest, and he’d never experienced this kind of tightness in his inner thighs. He glanced at her. “No wonder your legs are so sexy.”
She blushed, pivoted and walked to a tree stump, gracefully sitting on the sawed off trunk. “Why are you looking for my brother?”
“Same as before: our squad is concerned and I believe Wilson knows the whereabouts of my friend.” Basil squatted, bounced, and stood upright, which helped relieve the burning in his muscles a little.
“What’s your friend’s name?” She broke a piece of twig from a nearby tree. Pine scented the air and a sappy love song played through his mind.
He stared at her, concentrating on her eyes to see a sign of truth or deceit when she answered. “Harrison Lombard.”
She looked to the left for several moments. “I don’t recall the name. When we get back to the house you can point him out in the group photo. Or perhaps you have an image of him on your cell?”
“I don’t. I lost my cell and a front tooth during my last mission. Actually I don’t have any photos at all with me.” He dug around in his pocket. “I’ve a new phone though, and I’ll take one of my little daisy .”
Wind blew a strand of hair into her face. “Don’t. I’m sweaty and without makeup.” She tucked the black piece around an ear.
His heart caught. The woman didn’t realize her beauty. Free of cosmetics, she could be a cover girl on a fashion magazine. “Just one, so I can say I used the phone’s feature.” He coaxed, “Say cheese, Pippa.”
Deep South nudged her back. She smiled and leaned against her horse. The love they felt for each other was evident in her soft smile and his gentle nuzzling. Basil pressed the button and snapped the perfect picture of her. Her image would keep him warm on the many cold nights to come as he tracked his friend’s killer.
“You’ve got your photograph. Come”—she tapped the sawn-off tree trunk beside her—“have a seat.”
“Ah, love, if I sit I will not be able to get back on the hag.”
Buttercup grunted. Deep South whinnied in response. Giggles came from Pippa, making her all the more attractive and innocent.
“Come, it’s a warm fall day, no rain so the ground is dry. Let’s pick a spot.”
“Fine.” A grin lit her face and warmed her eyes as their gazes met. “Just for a couple of minutes because I have a full schedule.”
He held out his hand. She took hold, and he pulled her to her feet. Holding onto her, he led her to a grassy patch littered with pine needles away from the trees. A ripple of joy rushed through him. Phillipa was indeed the light in his dark world.
Settled on the fragrant grass, he placed one hand behind his head and the other between them, their shoulders touched. She sighed and nestled beside him. Her hand rested mere inches from his, and he considered
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