Read Online The Truth About De Campo by Jennifer Hayward - Free Book Online
Authors: Jennifer Hayward
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Quinn stood there, head throbbing, staring dubiously at them both.
“I’d really rather go on foot.”
“She is irreproachably lovely,” Matteo countered. “You’ll be fine.”
He held the stirrup out. She took a tentative step toward the horse. Jumped as the mare snorted and blew out a breath, sending a puff of steam snaking through the air. She pressed a hand to her pounding heart. Matteo’s mouth curved. “You had a bad experience with a horse?”
She nodded. “One bolted on me as a child. I’ve been too afraid to ride since.”
“Someone should have gotten you back in the saddle right away. That’s the key.”
“They tried. I wouldn’t do it.” She shifted her weight to both feet and exhaled slowly. “Really, I’d rather walk.”
“Quinn.” There was no mistaking the command in his voice. “You cannot miss out on this experience for the rest of your life because you’re scared. I’ve never seen Marica bolt on someone. Ever .”
She sliced him the sharpest of looks. “I’m not stupid. Anything can make a horse shy and bolt. Even the nicest animal in the world, which I’m sure she is.”
“And here I did not take you for a quitter,” he taunted, eyes flashing. “Fine.” He gathered up the reins. “I’ll take the horses back to the stable and we’ll take the car.”
Humiliation seared through her as he started to lead the mare away. She wasn’t a quitter. She wasn’t ever a quitter. Damn him .
“Okay, fine.” He stopped and turned around. “I’ll do it. But so help me God if she bolts on me I will make you pay.”
His gray eyes crinkled at the corners. “How... thought provoking . You have a deal, Quinn Davis.”
He led the horse back to her. The inquisitive mare cocked her ears and budged Quinn’s arm with her nose. Her heart slammed into her chest. God help her. This was so not right.
Matteo held the stirrup out for her. “I’ll be here beside you every step of the way.”
That was not supercomforting. Not after last night. Not after she’d pretty much thrown herself at him and he’d walked away. She pressed her lips together and slid the ball of her foot into the stirrup. Hoisted herself up. Mounting a horse wasn’t nearly as easy as it looked and her lack of momentum would have sent her back to the ground if Matteo hadn’t planted a firm hand on her denim-clad behind and pushed her into the saddle.
Heat flooded her face as she sank her hips down into the leather. “Thank you.”
“Mounting’s the hardest part,” he came back, deadpan.
She picked up the reins and focused on the terrifying beast rather than on Matteo’s double entendres. She had no doubt he could dish them out all day and night.
He swung into the saddle of his very big, very dangerous-looking stallion with a lithe movement.
“What’s his name?” she gibed. “Lucifer?”
His eyes gleamed with laughter. “Anteros, after the Italian god of love and passion. Perfect for me, don’t you think?”
“Utterly.”
His smile widened. “ Andiamo. Let’s go.”
He went first on the big stallion, leading the way down the narrow dirt road that wound its way through the mountain. True to his word, Marica followed quietly, picking her dainty way down the path. Quinn’s heartbeat slowed as she took in the lush green hills dotted with the most exquisitely colored wildflowers. The rows upon rows of perfectly straight, perfectly groomed vines. Matteo pointed out the different crops at each elevation, detailing the ideal growing conditions for each varietal and why.
When the sun had risen high in the sky, they took a break for lunch in the winery. Matteo and his master winemaker took her through the complex techniques they used to produce some of the world’s most exquisite wines. Then it was back on horseback to explore the other side of the mountain where the prize Brunellos and Chiantis were cultivated.
They finished the tour high up on the mountain as the sun was setting, a
Quinn stood there, head throbbing, staring dubiously at them both.
“I’d really rather go on foot.”
“She is irreproachably lovely,” Matteo countered. “You’ll be fine.”
He held the stirrup out. She took a tentative step toward the horse. Jumped as the mare snorted and blew out a breath, sending a puff of steam snaking through the air. She pressed a hand to her pounding heart. Matteo’s mouth curved. “You had a bad experience with a horse?”
She nodded. “One bolted on me as a child. I’ve been too afraid to ride since.”
“Someone should have gotten you back in the saddle right away. That’s the key.”
“They tried. I wouldn’t do it.” She shifted her weight to both feet and exhaled slowly. “Really, I’d rather walk.”
“Quinn.” There was no mistaking the command in his voice. “You cannot miss out on this experience for the rest of your life because you’re scared. I’ve never seen Marica bolt on someone. Ever .”
She sliced him the sharpest of looks. “I’m not stupid. Anything can make a horse shy and bolt. Even the nicest animal in the world, which I’m sure she is.”
“And here I did not take you for a quitter,” he taunted, eyes flashing. “Fine.” He gathered up the reins. “I’ll take the horses back to the stable and we’ll take the car.”
Humiliation seared through her as he started to lead the mare away. She wasn’t a quitter. She wasn’t ever a quitter. Damn him .
“Okay, fine.” He stopped and turned around. “I’ll do it. But so help me God if she bolts on me I will make you pay.”
His gray eyes crinkled at the corners. “How... thought provoking . You have a deal, Quinn Davis.”
He led the horse back to her. The inquisitive mare cocked her ears and budged Quinn’s arm with her nose. Her heart slammed into her chest. God help her. This was so not right.
Matteo held the stirrup out for her. “I’ll be here beside you every step of the way.”
That was not supercomforting. Not after last night. Not after she’d pretty much thrown herself at him and he’d walked away. She pressed her lips together and slid the ball of her foot into the stirrup. Hoisted herself up. Mounting a horse wasn’t nearly as easy as it looked and her lack of momentum would have sent her back to the ground if Matteo hadn’t planted a firm hand on her denim-clad behind and pushed her into the saddle.
Heat flooded her face as she sank her hips down into the leather. “Thank you.”
“Mounting’s the hardest part,” he came back, deadpan.
She picked up the reins and focused on the terrifying beast rather than on Matteo’s double entendres. She had no doubt he could dish them out all day and night.
He swung into the saddle of his very big, very dangerous-looking stallion with a lithe movement.
“What’s his name?” she gibed. “Lucifer?”
His eyes gleamed with laughter. “Anteros, after the Italian god of love and passion. Perfect for me, don’t you think?”
“Utterly.”
His smile widened. “ Andiamo. Let’s go.”
He went first on the big stallion, leading the way down the narrow dirt road that wound its way through the mountain. True to his word, Marica followed quietly, picking her dainty way down the path. Quinn’s heartbeat slowed as she took in the lush green hills dotted with the most exquisitely colored wildflowers. The rows upon rows of perfectly straight, perfectly groomed vines. Matteo pointed out the different crops at each elevation, detailing the ideal growing conditions for each varietal and why.
When the sun had risen high in the sky, they took a break for lunch in the winery. Matteo and his master winemaker took her through the complex techniques they used to produce some of the world’s most exquisite wines. Then it was back on horseback to explore the other side of the mountain where the prize Brunellos and Chiantis were cultivated.
They finished the tour high up on the mountain as the sun was setting, a
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