Dancing in the Moonlight by RaeAnne Thayne Read Free Book Online Page A

barnyard where she didn’t have an audience to watch her clumsy efforts.
    Here, she had nothing to help her—unless she could convince the horse to come to this fallen log and stand still out of the goodness of her heart while Maggie maneuvered into the saddle.
    He reached a hand out. “Come on. It won’t kill you to say yes.”
    To him, it might. She swallowed. “Yes. Okay. Thank you. Just a moment. I have to put the prosthesis back on or I won’t be able to dismount.”
    “I can help you with that, too. I’ll just drive around to the barn and meet you there.”
    Just leave, for heaven’s sake! “No. I’ll be fine.”
    Ignoring the sharp stabs of pain, she pulled her stump sock back on, then the prosthesis over that. With no small amount of pride in the minor accomplishment, she forced herself to move casually toward the sweet little bay mare she liked to ride whenever she was home.
    Jake met her at the horse’s side. Instead of simply giving her a boost into the saddle as she expected, he lifted her into his arms with what appeared to be no effort.
    For just a moment he held her close. He smelled incredible, a strangely compelling mixture of fabric softener, clean male and some kind of ruggedly sexy aftershave that reminded her of standing in a high mountain forest after a summer storm.
    She couldn’t believe how secure she felt to have strong male arms around her, even for a moment—even though those arms belonged to Jake Dalton.
    Her heart pounded so hard she thought he must certainly be able to hear it, and she needed every iota of concentration to keep her features and her body language coolly composed so he wouldn’t sense her reaction was anything but casual.
    He lifted her into the saddle and set her up, careful not to jostle her leg, then he stepped away.
    “Thank you,” she murmured.
    “No problem. I’ll meet you at the barn to help you dismount.”
    “That’s not necessary,” she assured him firmly. “My dad built a mounting block for my mother to help compensate for her lack of height. It works well for us cripples, too.”
    His mouth tightened but before he could say anything, she dug her heels into the mare’s side and headed across the field without another word.
    Her mother would have been furious at her for her rudeness. But Viviana wasn’t there—and anyway, her mother had always had a blind spot about the Daltons.
    Because Marjorie was her best friend, she didn’t think the arrogant, manipulative males of the family could do any wrong.
    Ten minutes later Maggie reached the barn. She wasn’t really surprised to find the most manipulative of those males standing by the mounting block, waiting to help her down.
    He wore sunglasses against the late-afternoon sun, and they shielded his expression, but she didn’t need to see his eyes to be fairly sure he was annoyed that she’d ridden away from him so abruptly.
    Too bad. She was annoyed with him, too.
    “I told you I didn’t need help,” she muttered as she guided the mare alongside it.
    “Just thought you might need a spotter.”
    “I don’t. Go away, Dalton.” She hated the idea of him witnessing her clumsy, ungainly efforts, hated that he had seen her stump, hated his very presence.
    To her immense frustration, he ignored the order and leaned a hip against the block, arms crossed over his chest as if he had nothing better to do with his time.
    She wanted to get down just so she could smack that damn smile off his face.
    She swung her right leg over so she was sitting sidesaddle, then she gripped the horn, preparing herself for the pain of impact and angling so most of her weight would land on her good leg and not the prosthesis. Before she could make that final small jump to the mounting block, he leaped up to catch her.
    She had no idea how he moved so fast, but there he was steadying her. Her body slid down his as he helped her to the block. Everywhere they touched, she could feel the heat of him, and she was ashamed of