A Convenient Proposal(44)

“That should have been the first thing she said. ‘Welcome home, bro. I’m having a baby.’”

“Perhaps she didn’t want to distract attention from…um…me.”

“Maybe. Stupid.” His hands settled quietly on her shoulders. “Feel better?”

“Much.” She was tempted to suggest they eat now and gradually recover the mood for sex with champagne.

Sex with Griff was, however, the only way to reach her goal. She’d agreed to this crazy plan in order to get pregnant. The more often they had sex, the more likely she would be to conceive.

And so she turned in Griff’s arms, raising her face to his. “Now, what can we do to satisfy your appetite?”



AFTER THREE DAYS OF RAIN, Friday served up sunny skies and warmer temperatures. Griff woke early, with anticipation, and puttered around the house for several hours until he could legitimately show up at the cottage at nine to take Arden riding.

She met him at the door wearing breeches, boots and a heavy sweater.

“You look great,” he said, admiring the fit of those tight pants and the line of her legs in riding boots. “But I thought you said you’d never done this before.”

Her smile was sheepish. “I haven’t. Kathy suggested I’d feel more comfortable in the right clothes, and be safer with boots instead of sneakers. She took me to a tack shop and helped me find what I needed.”

Griff shook his head. “That girl is an expert when it comes to shopping and spending money—other people’s money, especially.” Then he grinned. “But I love her. I’m not complaining, as far as you’re concerned. You will enjoy the ride more without a pair of jeans chafing your legs. And the gloves are a good idea—you have soft hands. So, are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” she declared, then swallowed hard. “I think.”

“You’ll do fine.” He led her to the pasture behind the cottage, took a couple of halters off the rack by the gate and handed her the red one.

“This is for Dorsey. She’s the quietest, gentlest mare on the planet and pretty much goes on autopilot. All you have to do is sit there and look beautiful.” He winked at Arden. “So you’ve got this covered.”

She smiled. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.” To prove it, he leaned in for a quick kiss.

And then lingered, because the truth was he could have kissed her all day long, could have turned both of them around to go back to the cottage and its warm, cozy bed. Every minute he spent holding her, every hour they spent making love, left him completely satisfied, and at the same time hungry for more—an unsolvable, delicious dilemma.

But he banked the fire she’d ignited and called up a grin, instead. “Let’s get those horses.”

The animals, of course, had decided to spend their morning in a sunny spot at the corner of the field farthest from the gate. They looked up from nosing the ground as the humans approached.

“Dorsey is the dark one,” Griff told Arden, “the bay with the white moon on her forehead. Cowboy is brown and white and black—a tricolor pinto, we call him. Or paint.” He demonstrated with Cowboy how to put on a halter. “Nose through here, pull up behind the jaw, then buckle behind the ears. That’s all there is to it. Now you try on Dorsey.”

After just a couple of false starts, Arden got the halter in place. She grinned at Griff in triumph and he nodded.

“Good job. Now we lead them to the barn.” He pointed in the general direction. “Back across the field, through the gate on the other side and then to the left behind those trees.”

A quick study, Arden followed his instructions about brushing and hoof cleaning without a problem, thanks in part to Dorsey’s patient nature. The saddles and bridles followed quickly, then they went back to the stable yard to mount.

“There’s nothing to hold on to,” Arden said, staring at the English saddle on Dorsey’s back. “How do I stay on? For that matter, how do I get there?”

“That horn you were expecting just gets in the way,” Griff assured her. “Come around here, to the mounting block.” Leading Dorsey, he positioned her beside the low set of steps. “Climb to the top,” he instructed Arden. “Put your left foot in the stirrup…yep. Grab her mane with your left hand—no, you won’t hurt her. Hold the saddle with your right. Now just swing that right leg up and over. Up, up…and over. Then sit. See? Not so hard.”