Tempestuous/Restless Heart by Tami Hoag Read Free Book Online Page A

brief, envious glance at her surroundings. The stables at Green Hills Farm spoke of old money and good taste. The oak stalls were light and roomy. The aisle was wide with a polished cobbled floor. There wasn’t a cobweb in sight, and the air smelled of sweet hay and pine shavings and horses that had been groomed to perfection.
    The stalls she was renting for the day were in the original barn, but Alex knew the Hills had recently expanded their facilities, building an additional barn with a large indoor arena. After years in the legal profession Hayden Hill had retired and decided to make show horses his full-time hobby. He’d spared no expense, up to and including luring Robert Braddock away from SpruceTree to train for him.
    Money. While it may well have been the root of all evil, it was also at the bottom of every successful operation.
    Alex had sunk every nickel Michael had given her into setting up her own business on the little farm she’d rented outside of Briarwood. The place was run-down, to put it nicely. None of the buildings had seen a coat of paint in twenty years, and the fences were in a sorry state. Even in its best days it hadn’t been able to compete with the likes of Green Hills or Quaid Farm, which was located a hill or two beyond her place.
    A shiver of awareness went through her at the thought that Christian Atherton was living just a few fields away from her. A very short distance, but light-years away in terms of status. He would probably turn up his aristocratic nose at the sight of her little ramshackle farm.
    “I admit it’s not much, but it’s a start,” she murmured, hugging herself. A fresh start in a place where she had no past. A clean slate.
    “We did all right today, didn’t we, sweetheart?”
    Alex jumped but composed herself so quickly, she was certain Tully hadn’t noticed. She tugged at the hem of the baggy black sweatshirt she had put on over her white blouse, trying to push aside the feeling that Haskell’s eyes lingered longer than was necessary on the skintight pale gray breeches that encased her thighs.
    “Yes, very well, Mr. Haskell,” she said, all business. “I was especially pleased with the mare. I have no doubts about her going on to A shows.”
    “She sure as hell outclassed this bunch, didn’t she, sugar?” Haskell patted Alex’s shoulder and laughed a laugh that managed to sound more smug than good-natured. Of course, that was Tully Haskell all over. He was a man who had, by hook or by crook, pulled himself up from poverty to prosperity and never failed to remind people of the fact. He seemed to believe it made him superior in some way. Survival-of-the-fittest mentality, Alex supposed.
    She shrugged off his touch as casually as she could and watched him lean negligently against the bottom door of the mare’s stall. Had he been a horse, Alex would have rejected him as a prospect on the basis of his eyes alone. They were small and cold, hinting at a temperament to match. He wore the blue ribbon his mare had won pinned to his shirt for all the world to see, as if her accomplishments somehow reflected favorably on him.
    “Well, this is just a schooling show,” Alex reminded him. “Still, I think she’ll hold her own in fancier company. She’s a very nice mare.”
    That was an understatement. A Touch of Dutch was world-class. Alex couldn’t stop thanking God for sending her this one wonderful horse to work with. If she could have just one like Duchess, she would ride a dozen Terminators and deal with a dozen Tully Haskells and not complain. The sorrel mare was sweet tempered, beautiful, talented, and worth a small fortune. What a man like Tully Haskell was doing with her, Alex couldn’t imagine. It was like trying to picture the man with Princess Di on his arm. Completely incongruous.
    “Yeah,” Tully drawled, extracting a long cigar from the breast pocket of his shirt and rolling it between his fingers in defiance of the many No Smoking signs posted