Summer Nights (Fool's Gold #8)(16)

Shane let himself out of Priscilla’s enclosure. He reminded himself he didn’t want to fight with his brother, although at the moment, he couldn’t figure out why not.

“She asked what Rachel was like and I said she reminded me of her.”

Rafe stared at him in disbelief. “You ranted about Rachel,” he began.

“I didn’t rant.”

“You always rant about her. You went on and on about how bad she was then told Annabelle she was just like her.”

Shane thought longingly of the coffee he hadn’t had yet. “Not just like her.”

“Close enough.” Rafe swore under his breath. “I don’t like Heidi upset.”

“I’ll apologize.”

“To Annabelle?”

Shane nodded. Maybe it wouldn’t be an issue. Maybe Annabelle would avoid him now.

“She’s nothing like Rachel,” Rafe told him. “Rachel was a bitch. Annabelle’s nice.”

“Not in personality,” Shane said quickly. “I didn’t mean that. It’s more…”

Rafe waited, but Shane just shook his head. No way he was going to confess that the need to possess was just as powerful as it had been with his ex-wife. The difference was, he enjoyed spending time with Annabelle.

“She’s dangerous,” he said at last.

“What? She’s a librarian!”

“Have you seen her?”

“Sure. Short with red hair. So what?”

So what? She was temptation incarnate. “The librarian thing is a cover.”

Rafe groaned. “You’re in trouble. Just fix it. I don’t want to have to hear about what a jerk you are from Heidi.”

Shane nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

If only he could figure out exactly how.

CHAPTER FOUR

ANNABELLE TOLD HERSELF she would be the bigger person. Possibly for the first time in her life, she thought, managing a smile. Maybe she was making too big a deal out of what Shane had said. It’s just he’d obviously hated his ex and then to have him say she reminded him of the woman had been disconcerting. And okay, it had hurt a little.

“I need to learn to ride,” she said aloud, then squared her shoulders and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “For the bookmobile.”

She needed to keep her eyes on the prize. The festival to raise the money would culminate with the dance. She was the one who had said she would learn to do it. Someone had anonymously donated the money for riding lessons. It’s not like she was going begging.

Someone tapped on the driver’s side window of her parked car. She yelped and jumped in her seat, then saw Shane standing there.

Her first instinct was to drive back home. But she was already here and they needed to come to terms.

She hit the button to lower her window. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself. I wasn’t sure you’d show up.”

She tried to tell if he was pleased or disappointed, only his dark eyes were impossible to read.

“I’m sorry,” he said abruptly. “About what I said. I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“How did you mean it?”

He hesitated, then drew in a breath. “Can I pass on that one?” He reached through the open window and pulled up the lock, then opened her door and held out his hand. “I’d like very much to teach you to ride and teach one of the horses to do the dance. If you’ll accept my apology.”

If she’d been standing, she would have stomped her foot. Now he was being all nice and conciliatory. If she said no, she would look like she was pouting. Plus, she really did need the lessons.

“That would be great,” she said, and placed her hand in his.

For a second, she thought she felt a little tingle, but told herself she was imagining it. It had to be static electricity.

He helped her out of her car, then released her.

“I’ll get Mason,” he told her as he closed her car door. Shane suddenly stiffened and swore under his breath.

She turned and saw Khatar trotting toward them.

“I changed the lock on his gate,” Shane said. “Stay back.”

Annabelle ignored him and walked toward the beautiful white stallion. “He’s smart and handsome. Aren’t you, big guy? Who’s a clever horse?” As she spoke, she reached up and stroked his face.

Khatar stepped closer, as if eager to be near. He angled his body between her and Shane, then lowered his head so he could press it against her chest.

“You’re quite the kitten, aren’t you?” She looked over his ears toward Shane. “You should let me ride him.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Is it because he’s expensive? I’ll be careful. Doesn’t he need exercise? Couldn’t I do that? He’s so sweet.”

“He’s not sweet.”

If he hadn’t looked so serious and worried, she would have laughed. “You must be confusing him with another horse,” she said, and wrapped her arms around the horse’s strong neck. “You wouldn’t hurt me, would you?”

“You can’t ride him.”

There was something in Shane’s tone. Something that made her want to stick out her tongue and remind him he wasn’t the boss of her. Not exactly mature.