face. Nick took in the curve of her back in the fine linen shirt and her rounded bottom in trousers that fit like a glove.
“One morning early I went out,” she began to sing softly as she massaged the horse’s leg and the pungent scent of mint liniment wafted on the air. Her voice was dark and rich, tinted with a soft Irish brogue. “On the shore of Loch Lein, the leafy trees of summertime, and the warm rays of the sun.”
As she sang she massaged her way up the beast’s leg onto his shoulder, her small hands firmly pressing into muscle and sinew.
“As I wandered through the townlands, and the luscious grassy plains, who should I meet but a beautiful maid.” She straightened and moved her hands over the horse’s neck, her fingers deftly combing through his inky mane.
Nick was transfixed by her rich voice and the sight of her fingers softly caressing the horse’s neck and up between his ears. The black bent his neck and blew a breath against her shoulder and she laughed before leaning forward to sing into his ear, “At the dawning of the day.”
“What’s that you’re singing?” Nick asked.
“Oh,” she cried in surprise as she spun around.
Nick sucked in a shocked breath. Standing before him was the brightest woman he’d ever seen. Her hair blazed like flames, tumbling over her shoulders and down her back in a riot of tangled curls. Her skin glowed bronze in the afternoon light that washed over her from the high window in the stall, freckles dancing over her nose and across her cheeks. Her eyes flashed, as green as spring leaves, surrounded by dark lashes. She wasn’t beautiful in any traditional sense of the word. She was too vibrant, too dazzling, too earthy for true beauty.
“Hullo,” she greeted with a wide smile. Nick found himself unable to look away from her mouth. Good God, what a mouth. Her lips were full and lush, carnal. Images of her lips, her mouth on him flashed through his mind, heating his blood in an instant.
“Cat got your tongue?” she asked when he stood still and silent before her.
“Something like,” Nick replied with a chuckle as he stepped into the stall. “That’s a beautiful horse you’ve got there.”
“And doesn’t he know it.” She laughed up into his face when he stopped before her and reached out to drag his hand down the neck she’d recently caressed. “Danny Boy’s a rare one. Da bought him from a man in Cumberland for a song. He’ll be dancing attendance on the ladies in no time.”
So, the stable master’s daughter after all.
“Lucky Danny Boy,” Nick replied. “He’ll be living the life, his pick of the mares, and a beautiful woman rubbing him down and singing his praises.”
“Jealous, are you? It’s not so different from the life on an English gentleman as far as I can tell.”
Nick chuckled at her audacity. “Is that how you see us?”
“Aren’t you here to find a broad mare and commence filling your stable with little ones to carry on the name?”
“You’ve got us all figured out, have you?” Nick stepped forward until he was close enough feel the heat of her, smell the scent of vanilla and lemon and animal that floated around her. She didn’t step back, but held her ground, her smile inviting as she tilted her head back to look up at him.
“That I have,” she agreed boldly.
“And what about you?” he murmured. “If you’re not a broad mare in this scenario, does that make you the beautiful woman rubbing the stallion down and singing his praises?”
She shook her head as laughter erupted from deep in her chest and spilled from her lips to brush against his neck.
“You’ve a fresh mouth on you, sir,” she said, stepping back.
“I could say the same for you.” He knew he shouldn’t but he followed her retreat, step for step, until she was backed up against the wall and he was looming over her. He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her head and watched in fascination as she blinked up at him, her
“One morning early I went out,” she began to sing softly as she massaged the horse’s leg and the pungent scent of mint liniment wafted on the air. Her voice was dark and rich, tinted with a soft Irish brogue. “On the shore of Loch Lein, the leafy trees of summertime, and the warm rays of the sun.”
As she sang she massaged her way up the beast’s leg onto his shoulder, her small hands firmly pressing into muscle and sinew.
“As I wandered through the townlands, and the luscious grassy plains, who should I meet but a beautiful maid.” She straightened and moved her hands over the horse’s neck, her fingers deftly combing through his inky mane.
Nick was transfixed by her rich voice and the sight of her fingers softly caressing the horse’s neck and up between his ears. The black bent his neck and blew a breath against her shoulder and she laughed before leaning forward to sing into his ear, “At the dawning of the day.”
“What’s that you’re singing?” Nick asked.
“Oh,” she cried in surprise as she spun around.
Nick sucked in a shocked breath. Standing before him was the brightest woman he’d ever seen. Her hair blazed like flames, tumbling over her shoulders and down her back in a riot of tangled curls. Her skin glowed bronze in the afternoon light that washed over her from the high window in the stall, freckles dancing over her nose and across her cheeks. Her eyes flashed, as green as spring leaves, surrounded by dark lashes. She wasn’t beautiful in any traditional sense of the word. She was too vibrant, too dazzling, too earthy for true beauty.
“Hullo,” she greeted with a wide smile. Nick found himself unable to look away from her mouth. Good God, what a mouth. Her lips were full and lush, carnal. Images of her lips, her mouth on him flashed through his mind, heating his blood in an instant.
“Cat got your tongue?” she asked when he stood still and silent before her.
“Something like,” Nick replied with a chuckle as he stepped into the stall. “That’s a beautiful horse you’ve got there.”
“And doesn’t he know it.” She laughed up into his face when he stopped before her and reached out to drag his hand down the neck she’d recently caressed. “Danny Boy’s a rare one. Da bought him from a man in Cumberland for a song. He’ll be dancing attendance on the ladies in no time.”
So, the stable master’s daughter after all.
“Lucky Danny Boy,” Nick replied. “He’ll be living the life, his pick of the mares, and a beautiful woman rubbing him down and singing his praises.”
“Jealous, are you? It’s not so different from the life on an English gentleman as far as I can tell.”
Nick chuckled at her audacity. “Is that how you see us?”
“Aren’t you here to find a broad mare and commence filling your stable with little ones to carry on the name?”
“You’ve got us all figured out, have you?” Nick stepped forward until he was close enough feel the heat of her, smell the scent of vanilla and lemon and animal that floated around her. She didn’t step back, but held her ground, her smile inviting as she tilted her head back to look up at him.
“That I have,” she agreed boldly.
“And what about you?” he murmured. “If you’re not a broad mare in this scenario, does that make you the beautiful woman rubbing the stallion down and singing his praises?”
She shook her head as laughter erupted from deep in her chest and spilled from her lips to brush against his neck.
“You’ve a fresh mouth on you, sir,” she said, stepping back.
“I could say the same for you.” He knew he shouldn’t but he followed her retreat, step for step, until she was backed up against the wall and he was looming over her. He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her head and watched in fascination as she blinked up at him, her
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