Whispered Music (London Fairy Tales #2)(28)

He shook his head, breaking her penetrating gaze. “Pick one.”

Unfortunately, he hadn’t noticed that he was in fact in front of an empty stable, not anywhere near the other side of the stables where several horses stood eating hay.

“You have a mind to put me in the stables now? Am I to pick my room? Is that why you’ve dragged me out here in the blistering winter? So we aren’t to go riding?”

So many questions and assumptions in that beautiful head of hers. “No, Isabelle, it seems I’m out of sorts today. I meant for you to pick a horse, but if you’d rather a night tossing in the hay with yours truly, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Fine. I want that one.” She nodded in his direction, to the horse directly to her left. His horse.

“Any horse but that horse.”

“But I thought you said I should just pick one?”

Dominique let out an irritated breath. “I meant for you to pick from the available horses, over there.” He pointed to the long row of stables that held the rest of the horses.

“Then you should have made that clear before you ran your mouth and got yourself into a pickle. You said to pick a horse, and I fancy the black one.”

“You’ll get yourself killed.” Dominique knew it was a losing battle, trying to fight with her. She was just as stubborn as he, though she tried to shield her streak with a quick smile and easy manner.

Isabelle placed her hands on her hips, jutting out one and leaned provocatively close to him. Curse her inability to back down. He could roar, growl, and throw all sorts of tantrums and she’d most likely smile and ask if he were done. And the worst of it was that he would have be to be standing within her vicinity the entire time, nearly dying from having to keep his hands away from her body.

“Fine.” He moved out of the way. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when Horse throws you.”

“Horse?” Isabelle walked toward the animal and laid a hand across the shiny coat. “Is that truly the beast's name?”

“My name or the horse's?” Dominique tilted his head.

“The horse.”

“Is named Horse.”

“I’m confused.” Isabelle furrowed her brows.

“Yes well, it isn’t too hard to understand. The horse is named Horse. Lovely name. Descriptive, straight to the point, no confusion as to what the animal actually is…”

Isabelle leaned across Horse. “Yes, it’s also boring and ridiculous. Tell me, were you drunk when you named her or merely practicing the art of stupidity?”

“Both.” Hunter interrupted. “Though, to be fair, I believe it was my own fault that he was so inebriated. The stupidity, however, is all his own doing.”

“Thank you, Hunter.” Dominique felt himself manage a small, irritated twitch of his mouth, which could be mistaken as a smile if one looked hard enough. He shook his head. “Are you suddenly under the impression you’ve been invited?”

Hunter grinned and peered around Dominique to wink at Isabelle. He gave a little wave and returned his attention to his friend. “It seems our dear Isabelle has forgotten her hat. And I thought to myself, what lady, what princess, could possibly go for a morning ride without her hat? Truly, it would be a travesty! An error of gigantic proportions! So I steeled myself against the morning mist and cold temperatures, to save the day.”

“How very heroic,” Dominique said dryly.

Hunter looked genuinely pleased that Dominique had even acknowledged him. “Thank you, I thought so. Now, here you are Isabelle. Let us attach this magnificent piece of…er, hat. And get you on to your delightful morning.”

****

Something wasn’t right. Hunter wasn’t truly the idiot he was portraying himself to be. If he was, he would be the worst spy the Crown had to offer.

He walked forward and gave her another wink, just as the groom entered the stables to speak with Dominique.

“He needs a little push is all.” Hunter placed the hat on her head, in perfect fashion.

“Pardon?”

Jolly fa?ade gone, Hunter took a step back, and she nearly gasped. She had always thought he was an attractive man, but his silly attitude made him seem so harmless. She realized it was a mask, merely one of the disguises he wore to keep his true self as well as his real intentions hidden. Humor drained from his face as Hunter leaned forward and whispered, “He needs you.”

Isabelle swallowed and looked down at her hands. “I’m not sure I’m doing a good job.”

Hunter’s hand touched her chin, lifting her gaze upwards toward his face. “Then I’ll just have to remedy that. Oh, and if you could take the sting out of your slap I would be eternally grateful.”

“Whatever do you mea—”

Before she had a chance to finish her sentence, Hunter was upon her. All of him. Raw masculinity poured out of him as his lips forcibly moved across hers. His hands moved to the sides of her face. And in a moment of sheer madness, his tongue plunged into her mouth. Truly, he was insane!

She pushed against him, beat at his chest, and finally when he pulled away, slapped him across the cheek.

“If that was you taking the sting out of your slap, I pity poor Dominique. How many times have you slapped him, anyway?” Hunter rubbed his cheek just before Dominique charged him, knocking them both into the hay.