After the Kiss by Suzanne Enoch Read Free Book Online Page A

hoped. “And you keep in mind, Mr. Waring, that I can clip your wings, anytime I choose.”
    “We’ll see about that, my lady.”

Chapter 4
    Isabel followed at a distance as Waring walked into the Chalsey family stable like he owned it. The servants inside all gave him room, apparently under the same misapprehension. That was more than enough of that. “Phipps, please bring my horse out.”
    Waring ignored her, continuing up to the small stall where Zephyr had already swung her head around to nicker at him. “Hello, girl,” he said in a deep, soothing voice that rumbled down Isabel’s own spine. He rubbed the mare’s nose as he attached a long rope to her halter.
    Phipps opened the stall door, and Waring backed Zephyr into the main part of the stable. Her ears flicked back and forth, but she stayed close by the breeder’s shoulder.
    “Do you want to lead her out?” he asked, offering Isabel the folded length of rope.
    She put her hands behind her back, trying not to gasp. “A completely untrained animal? I think not, Mr. Waring.”
    He drew even with her, and slowed. “Not as bold as you’d like me to think, are you, my lady?” he said in a low voice. “Be careful; your weaknesses are showing.”
    Drat . “Well, that’s a ridiculous thing to say, unless you intend to put a horse through my window,” she retorted in the same tone.
    Sullivan Waring laughed. The genuinely amused sound surprised her—and she wasn’t the only one. Zephyr lifted on her rear legs in a backward hop. “Whoa, Zephyr,” he murmured, keeping her walking forward and actually giving her more slack on the guide rope. “Easy, girl.”
    Isabel backed away herself as they left the stable for the yard. The animal was obviously unpredictable. Or rather, the animal and the horse were both unpredictable.
    She smiled a little at her play on words. She knew this man’s character, charming laugh or not. Whether he had everyone else fooled or not. She glanced at Phipps and the other stableboys. They were definitely interested, but far enough away that she could probably manage a private conversation with Mr. Waring. Of course, to do that, she would have to stand closer to him. And to her new, half-wild horse.
    “Are you going to stand way over there the entire time?” he asked, echoing her own thoughts.
    Reluctantly she returned to his side. However unsettled both he and the horse made her, taking a position of weakness now would never do. Especially not, she sensed, with him. “I believe you owe me an explanation,” she said.
    Instead of answering, he motioned to one of the stableboys. The fellow came forward immediately, handing over a long-handled whip with a short, tasseled leather on the end. Mr. Waring glanced at her, the end of the whip swaying back andforth, snakelike, in his right hand. “You might want to move to my left,” he said, letting out the lead line.
    “Are you attempting to threaten me with that?” she grated, beginning to suspect that she might be in over her head. This was not a simple secret, like knowing that someone was infatuated with someone else. This was a large, strong, mobile secret that kissed and threatened and intrigued.
    “I’m training your mare, which is what you employed me to do. Back up.”
    “I will n—”
    He clucked his tongue. “Walk on.” With that he flicked Zephyr’s near back leg, feather-light, with the whip.
    Snorting, the mare danced sideways and then began a forward walk in a wide circle around them, as far away as she could get with the lead line. Quickly Isabel took a step back, keeping herself just behind Waring’s left shoulder as he pivoted to keep the mare directly in front of him.
    “Well, this is impressive,” she said after a moment. “In no time I shall be too dizzy to defend myself.”
    “Whoa.” He flicked the whip forward to touch Zephyr’s chest, and she stopped. “You do it, then,” he said, offering Isabel the rope and the whip.
    “That is your job.