Sylvie Kurtz - Ms. Longshot

The slow glide of his gaze studied me from frizzy head to scuffed boot toe. “I’m not sure I like what I’m seeing.”

Of course not. I wasn’t blond or buxom and had a higher IQ than he was used to. The hairs on the back of my neck rose and a growl started to form in my chest. “I’ve been around horses a long time.”

“I’m sure you have. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but—” He shrugged. “I don’t know you.”

“On the other hand, your reputation precedes you.” I don’t know how Renee expected me to charm Ross Hardel when all my best features were hidden beneath Goodwill clothes, a bad dye job and eau de manure.

He shot me a wry smile. “Then you know I expect the best for my horses.”

And a few personal extras from the groom.

He hadn’t exactly hit on me, though, had he? For some reason I found that mildly irritating.

I still had two horses to groom and tack before five. “Magnus is due for his walk. Since I’m below par, he’s all yours.” Saving half an hour of hand walking was just fine with me.

Before Ross could answer, another whistle ripped through the electric eddy already swirling around the stable. Bart Hind this time, standing outside his office door in his usual Napoleonic stance. Was that Katelyn slinking out of his office? I’d bet a week’s pay she’d just finished complaining about my work, hoping she’d take over the horses she coveted.

“Sounds like he went to the same charm school you did,” I mumbled, giving Magnus’s neck a parting pat before starting in Bart’s direction.

“Don’t you walk away from me,” Ross said. “We’re not done here.”

I pretended to give his insipid command thought. “Let’s see. Um. Paycheck or attitude?” I shrugged and pointed a thumb over my shoulder at Hind. “Paycheck wins.”

Ross’s skewering stare as I walked away from him made me feel naked. I tried to ignore the burn of his gaze, but it seared me until I reached Hind’s office.

“What’s all the shouting about?” Hind asked.

Shouting? “Mr. Hardel is upset because I’m not Mandy.” Poor Ross would have to get laid elsewhere tonight.

Hind frowned. “Any questions are to be directed to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’d do well to remember that the owner’s always right.”

Against my will, my eyebrows lifted. “Even when he’s wrong?”

“Especially when he’s wrong.”

That was one hell of a philosophy. Keeping an impassive face and my mouth from dropping all the way down to the spotless concrete floor took all the muscle control I had left. “About Mandy—” I misdirected his glance to the aisle with a sweep of one hand, and with the other scooped up the master key I’d seen him use on an owner’s locker earlier and pocketed it. Easier to search the lockers with a key than attempting to finesse the locks open with a pick.

“I’ll take care of the situation. Leah Siegel is running half an hour late. Make sure Waldo’s warmed up for her five-o’clock lesson.”

Dismissed again. I wasn’t sure I could get used to this cockroach treatment.

As I slid past Ross and Hind discussing Mandy’s departure, Ross’s gaze flashed with potent anger that said he wasn’t through with me. Not by a long shot.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.