Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Has someone stolen him? That dark thought had me running toward the exit, but I came up short when my brain registered the thudding sound of hooves. The Knightons had a private indoor arena that was solely for their use, and it was attached to this section of the barn. I moved over to the closed doors and heard the unmistakable thuds of a horse in motion.
There was a pedestrian door built into the main barn door, and as quietly as I could, I turned the knob and opened it. I snuck inside, only for my mouth to drop open at what I found.
A flash of white passed by me, and before my very eyes, Lord Henry was sailing over jumps. Not just jumps, but a tricky and challenging course that looked like it had been created by the best course designer on the tour. The fences had to be at least 160 cm in height, bigger than the standard Grand Prix course. Henry sailed over them like they were only a foot tall. But that’s not what had me so enraptured. No, that honor belonged to Jasper, who was jumping his stallion with as much proficiency and beauty as he had a year ago when he was still on the circuit.
As he turned Henry to take another fence, the joy on Jasper’s face made me breathless. This was Jasper Knighton. This was the man I had met all those years ago. This moment was an echo to the past. I was once again the inexperienced twelve-year-old cowgirl, watching a man take flight on an almost mythically talented horse.
The sight brought tears to my eyes.
Jasper hadn’t given up like he’d led everyone to believe.
I’d assumed that Lord Henry was ridden by Jasper’s groom, Benjamin, and that was why he was still so fit and muscular. But Jasper clearly rode him when no one was around, in secret, but with as much talent—if not more—than before.
As they took the final spread fence, I audibly gasped as Henry cleared it with room to spare—a perfectly clear round. But in the quiet arena, that gasp gave me away. Jasper pulled Henry to a halt and whipped his head in my direction. Jasper was breathing hard, well exercised from the course. Henry had barely broken a sweat.
The happiness I’d seen on Jasper’s face evaporated into a hard scowl under the brim of his helmet. He was dressed in all black, the Knighton Equestrian base layer and breeches fitting him like a second skin. Hell, his body was perfection. He was tall and toned and muscled, and perched on Henry, he commanded such power it was aphrodisiacal to simply watch.
And I watched him like a hawk. Jasper walked Henry to where I stood. As he stilled before me, towering high on Henry’s eighteen hands, he said, “What are you doing here?”
His voice and attitude were just as harsh and demeaning as they were earlier today, but I pushed that aside to say, “You still ride.” I caught the awe in my voice, but I didn’t care. Jasper hadn’t quit. I shook my head. “You are incredible.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” Jasper bit out, but I noticed a slight softening in his tone.
I lifted my hand and ran it along Henry’s nose. The champion stallion let me pet him. “You’re better than ever, Henry,” I said, like the horse could understand my compliment.
Jasper pulled on Henry’s reins and he stepped back, away from my touch. As quick as a breath, Jasper kicked his legs over the saddle and dismounted. When he hit the arena floor, he took hold of the reins below Henry’s mouth and walked his prize stallion through the big barn doors. “Leave,” he hissed at me as he passed. “Now.”
But I couldn’t move. I was still in shock, in awe, in wonder of this man and his incredible horse. Instead, I watched him go. In his all-black getup, Jasper looked imposing and mysterious. He quickly untacked Henry and let his horse into his stall with fresh hay. Jasper whipped off his hat, and after he’d put all his equipment away in the tack room, he came out and saw me still standing here.
His face became a thundercloud. “I told you to leave,” he said through clenched teeth. He walked to where I stood, power and dominance in his every step. His long black riding boots cocooned his muscled calves, and his thigh muscles flexed as he moved.
I walked back a few steps until my back hit a nearby wall. Jasper crowded me, and I was instantly accosted by his sandalwood and mint scent. It made me heady. He was scowling at me. But this time, I wasn’t backing down.
“Leave!” he said, more aggressively.
But I tipped my chin to his command and said, “Why are you hiding the fact you still ride?”