She
closed her eyes and took a deep, heady breath, and experienced a
wave of pleasant dizziness.
He gripped her wrists and pressed her against Mighty Boy, touched
his lips to her ear. "Perhaps this attraction I feel for you is
the first to come between me and my love for horses," he said
with a little laugh.
She shifted her head back. A bead of sweat jiggled on his chin,
beside a tiny flake of hay. She dabbed the droplet with the back
of her bare hand, touched the hay flake away and pulled it past
his lips, yet did not let herself touch them. He took her hand
from his cheek, then curled her fingers into his own. He inhaled
the fragrance on her wrist, kissed it.
She began trembling as he lowered his arm around her waist and
pressed her harder into Mighty Boy, layering her between the heat
of two powerful bodies. She pulled her fingers free of his grip
and plunged her hands into his long hair and down his neck,
across the hard muscles of his shoulders.
Then, just as their lips drew near, Greta reeled her head away
with a shake, as if snapping awake from frightening dream - he
had taken her gloved hand in his own.
"No," she said, struggling.
He tightened his hold on her. "What are you hiding, Greta? What
is it you are so afraid to show me?" Then suddenly, Matthew's
image appeared in her mind's eye.
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