Leaping Hearts(90)

“That surprises me. I mean, I try to be good to everyone but I didn’t think I made any special effort for them to like me.”

“People have always been drawn to you.” Peter shifted his weight and leaned against the doorjamb. “You know all those men at the compound? The ones you’ve spent so much time training with? They used to come to me, wanting to know how to get you to go out with them.”

“But none of them ever asked,” A.J. said, remembering the Saturday nights she’d spent alone. “What did you tell them?”

“Simple,” he replied. “I said you were a lesbian.”

There was a moment of silence and then the two began to laugh.

“That explains it,” she said.

“There’s something else you should know. I was the one who talked Garrett into making me head of the stables. It’s something I’ve learned to regret. After you left, your father was miserable. My mother blamed me for making him unhappy and for driving away one of Sutherland’s stars. I’m sorry I pressed your father like I did. I really am. And I’m sorry I threw you out.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I wish we’d talked like this a long time ago.”

“You know, so do I.” He glanced around the room. “Look, about your things—”

“Don’t worry about it. I should have put them in storage myself when I left.” A.J. picked up her gear. “I’ll come back for them someday.”

He took a step back, out into the hall.

“If I don’t see you before the competition, good luck. I mean it.”

“Thanks.”

After an awkward moment, A.J. left. As she drove away from the mansion, she was feeling optimistic about their conversation. It had been totally unexpected. Long overdue. A harbinger, she hoped, of good things to come for them both.

“So your stepbrother isn’t as awful as you thought he was?”

Devlin was pulling on flannel pajama bottoms as A.J. settled into bed.

“No, he really isn’t,” she replied, looking up at him with a smirk.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“Those are the same pajamas you were wearing the night I first came here.”

He pulled the drawstring tight and tied it at his taut stomach. “Are they?”

“I thought you were incredibly sexy when you opened the door. I couldn’t believe what your body looked like in the moonlight. I just melted.”

His eyes flared with heat.

“Did you?” he drawled, sauntering over to her.

She nodded, responding to the electricity that sparked between them. “And I think you’re sexy right now.”

“You know what I’m going to do?” Devlin reached out a hand, one fingertip coming to rest on her lower lip. With aching slowness, he traced a path down her neck to her collarbone.

“What?” she asked, breathlessly.

He pulled his hand away smartly. “I’m going to go into the bathroom and brush my teeth. There was a lot of garlic in that clam sauce.”

She started laughing.

“And then I’m going to come back and I’m going to start at your feet and kiss my way up every inch of your body.”

In a voice husky with desire, she told him to hurry back.

Devlin’s body was humming with anticipation as he went across the hall and into the other room. Reaching over the sink, he whipped open the medicine cabinet and grabbed a nearly spent tube of toothpaste. When nothing came out, he knew he had no one to blame but himself. He’d been squeezing from the middle for the past few weeks and now the thing was mangled and deformed, refusing to give up its last dregs with any alacrity. Cursing, he smoothed it out, rolled it up from the bottom and, by putting it on the edge of the sink and leaning on it with his palm, finally managed to cover his bristles with an anemic showing of fluoride.

He leaned over to throw the thing away and froze as he noticed something disturbing. Bending over, he fished out an empty bottle of Motrin from the dental floss and wads of Kleenex. He’d seen a number of them showing up in the trash lately. Stringing together the seemingly unrelated discoveries, he grew alarmed.

A.J. was impatiently leafing through the pages of the most recent issue of Horse Illustrated when Devlin came in with the empty bottle.

“What’s this?” he demanded.

She looked up.

“Why are you going through the trash?”

“Why are you taking so many pills?”

There was a pause.

“You find one empty bottle—”

“This isn’t the only one. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. And don’t give me that look. Last time I checked, that stuff wasn’t a controlled substance.” She looked back down at the magazine, turning a page sharply. “It’s perfectly safe.”

“Why are you taking it so much?”

“I get sore after training sometimes. It’s no big deal.”

“I think you’re lying to me.”

A.J. threw the magazine aside. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

There was a long silence between them.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Whatever you say.”

He turned and left. As A.J. heard him go downstairs, she lost her composure and buried her head in her hands.