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Authors: Brenda Jernigan
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horses.”
Travis looked at Brooke with a raised brow. “You probably should have asked me first.”
“I believe I told you earlier that I wanted to see the plantation.”
He smiled smoothly, betraying nothing of his annoyance. “Do you ride, Mrs. Hammond?”
“Of course, I can ride, you ninny. Do you think I’d get on an animal if I couldn’t handle it?”
Something about the way Brooke spat those words at him ma de chills crawl up the back of his neck. Travis didn’t doubt that she could handle just about anything. There was such an air of confidence about her . . . a determination that he’d not seen in other women. He almost admired her for that. “In that case,” he said, turning to Old Sam. “Saddle the gray for Mrs. Hammond.”
“I prefer that you call me Miss Brooke or just plain Brooke,” she said.
“You can use the gray while you’re here, Mrs. Hammond,” he said pointedly.
“What a stubborn man you are,” Brooke told him. She took a step closer. “Don’t think you are getting rid of me. I’m here to stay and have no intention of going anywhere.”
Travis waited until Sam was out of hearing distance before he responded, low and quiet, under his breath, “You don’t belong here.”
Instead of shooting a remark back as he expected, Brooke gave him an odd look, and he could swear tears spiked her lashes. Up until now he had not thought of her as a woman with feelings and emotions. She had merely been a thorn in his side and a warm body to think about during the long nights, which made her the enemy.
“That’s the problem, you see. I don’t belong anywhere,” she said in a soft voice, sounding almost defeated. Her golden eyes seemed to pierce his with the oddest, almost desperate expression. And she was much too close. “Do you know what it’s like not to belong?”
Travis’s gut tightened and he slowly nodded. “I know exactly how it feels.”
“Then, I imagine that we are more alike than you know.”
Someone cleared his throat, and Travis and Brooke jerked away from each other.
Sam had returned with the horses and his intrusion broke whatever spell Brooke had cast over him.
Without another word, Travis waited until Sam positioned the horse, then Travis helped Brooke mount the sidesaddle.
As he closed his hands around her trim waist, he marveled at how small she was. He could almost circle her waist with his hands, and there was no doubt in his mind that she wore no corset beneath her garments. Only thin material separated his hands and her warm skin. Steeling himself to resist the spell he was slowly falling under, he lifted her onto the saddle.
Her fragrance seemed to wash all over him, and his body’s reaction to it surprised the hell out of him. He didn’t need to be attracted to Brooke, so he abruptly tuned and went to mount his own horse. He’d be damned if he’d allow that woman to see his growing attraction to her.
After Travis was situated on the white stallion, he glanced at Brooke’s pure profile. She sat so gracefully in the saddle and with such dignity that she certainly appeared to be the master horsewoman. Her habit was cut so perfectly to the contours of her body that he could imagine her completely naked beneath the fabric. An image of her lying in bed, her golden mane of hair fanned out across a pillow flashed unbidden into his mind.
Travis’s bodily reaction was hard and quick, and he cursed himself. Rather than remain there, trapped in her spell, he touched the white’s flanks with his heels and urged him forward. He had to put some distance between himself and Brooke.
Once out of the stables, he paused and took a deep breath to clear his head, then spurred his mount on, pushing him harder and faster than he knew he should. Fresh air! That’s what he needed.
Only when Travis felt he was safely away did he allow his horse to slow. He guided him to the top of a rise, which overlooked the river below, and then he drew his mount to a
Travis looked at Brooke with a raised brow. “You probably should have asked me first.”
“I believe I told you earlier that I wanted to see the plantation.”
He smiled smoothly, betraying nothing of his annoyance. “Do you ride, Mrs. Hammond?”
“Of course, I can ride, you ninny. Do you think I’d get on an animal if I couldn’t handle it?”
Something about the way Brooke spat those words at him ma de chills crawl up the back of his neck. Travis didn’t doubt that she could handle just about anything. There was such an air of confidence about her . . . a determination that he’d not seen in other women. He almost admired her for that. “In that case,” he said, turning to Old Sam. “Saddle the gray for Mrs. Hammond.”
“I prefer that you call me Miss Brooke or just plain Brooke,” she said.
“You can use the gray while you’re here, Mrs. Hammond,” he said pointedly.
“What a stubborn man you are,” Brooke told him. She took a step closer. “Don’t think you are getting rid of me. I’m here to stay and have no intention of going anywhere.”
Travis waited until Sam was out of hearing distance before he responded, low and quiet, under his breath, “You don’t belong here.”
Instead of shooting a remark back as he expected, Brooke gave him an odd look, and he could swear tears spiked her lashes. Up until now he had not thought of her as a woman with feelings and emotions. She had merely been a thorn in his side and a warm body to think about during the long nights, which made her the enemy.
“That’s the problem, you see. I don’t belong anywhere,” she said in a soft voice, sounding almost defeated. Her golden eyes seemed to pierce his with the oddest, almost desperate expression. And she was much too close. “Do you know what it’s like not to belong?”
Travis’s gut tightened and he slowly nodded. “I know exactly how it feels.”
“Then, I imagine that we are more alike than you know.”
Someone cleared his throat, and Travis and Brooke jerked away from each other.
Sam had returned with the horses and his intrusion broke whatever spell Brooke had cast over him.
Without another word, Travis waited until Sam positioned the horse, then Travis helped Brooke mount the sidesaddle.
As he closed his hands around her trim waist, he marveled at how small she was. He could almost circle her waist with his hands, and there was no doubt in his mind that she wore no corset beneath her garments. Only thin material separated his hands and her warm skin. Steeling himself to resist the spell he was slowly falling under, he lifted her onto the saddle.
Her fragrance seemed to wash all over him, and his body’s reaction to it surprised the hell out of him. He didn’t need to be attracted to Brooke, so he abruptly tuned and went to mount his own horse. He’d be damned if he’d allow that woman to see his growing attraction to her.
After Travis was situated on the white stallion, he glanced at Brooke’s pure profile. She sat so gracefully in the saddle and with such dignity that she certainly appeared to be the master horsewoman. Her habit was cut so perfectly to the contours of her body that he could imagine her completely naked beneath the fabric. An image of her lying in bed, her golden mane of hair fanned out across a pillow flashed unbidden into his mind.
Travis’s bodily reaction was hard and quick, and he cursed himself. Rather than remain there, trapped in her spell, he touched the white’s flanks with his heels and urged him forward. He had to put some distance between himself and Brooke.
Once out of the stables, he paused and took a deep breath to clear his head, then spurred his mount on, pushing him harder and faster than he knew he should. Fresh air! That’s what he needed.
Only when Travis felt he was safely away did he allow his horse to slow. He guided him to the top of a rise, which overlooked the river below, and then he drew his mount to a
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