Curves and the Russian Wrangler

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and turned it on. Or tried to. Nothing happened. “The battery must be flat.” Amber bit her lip, annoyed with herself, trying to think back to the last time she‘d checked her phone for messages. A couple of days at least.

 

“It is no matter. You are here now. But if you did not receive my voicemail, how can I help you?” His eyebrow quirked in enquiry.

 

She blinked, willing her brain to kick into gear. “Barney,” she said with a whoosh of relief. “He bit me. Betty at the diner recommended you. For training horses,” she added hastily.

 

Why would he have thought Betty would have recommended him for anything else?

 

“Let me see.” His Russian accent made her pulse skitter.

 

She held out her hand, the bite mark still evident on her pale skin. He gently took her hand in his, and brushed his thumb near the injured flesh.

 

She inhaled swiftly, hoping he hadn’t heard.

 

“Did I hurt you?” He looked concerned.

 

“No.” She tried to pass off her reaction with a little laugh, but was unsure she succeeded. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

 

“Good.” His thumb brushed her hand again, this time further away from her injury.

 

Her knees wobbled.

 

Don’t be silly. You’ve had guys holding your hand before.

 

But her few and far between boyfriends hadn’t affected her like this.

 

What would it be like if he kissed you?

 

Made love to you?

 

She had to stop her thoughts from spinning out of control.

 

“I would have asked Cade to help me with Barney, but he and Emma have gone on vacation.” He still held her hand.

 

“Cade is a good trainer.” He seemed to realize her hand was captured in his and relinquished it. Reluctantly, she thought. Then told herself she was imagining things.

 

“Let me see your horse.”

 

“I’ve had Barney for five years,” she told him as they walked to her car. “He’s never done anything like this before. He’s always been gentle.”

 

“Why do you think he bit you?” he asked, matching his stride to her shorter one.

 

“I’m afraid I’ve neglected him lately and I haven’t been riding him much.”

 

“Emma told me you had a big promotion at work.”

 

She tried not to blush. Had Emma been telling Mikhail about her? It would only be because despite Amber’s denials, her friend could tell she was attracted to the man, and was trying to help.

 

“It’s only a small store.” She tried to downplay her new job. Although she was pleased about her new promotion, it wasn’t as if she were manager of a large department store. Just a cute boutique in Coldwater Springs.

 

“But your employer must have a lot of trust in you to put you in charge.” A warm flush stole through her at his compliment.

 

They reached the horse trailer. Barney whinnied, interrupting the moment.

 

“Ah, yes, Barney.” Mikhail chuckled, then helped her ease the ramp down. “Do you need help guiding him out?”

 

“He should be fine.” She prayed her horse would behave himself while she led him out of the trailer. Barney had never played up before when it was time to enter or exit a horse trailer, but then, he’d never bitten her before, either. Hoping she wasn’t about to make a fool of herself, she entered the trailer, grasped the lead rope and backed him out of the trailer without incident.

 

“Hello, Barney.” Mikhail slowly approached the gold colored horse. “Good boy,” he murmured, holding out his fist for the horse to sniff.

 

The palomino sniffed Mikhail’s outstretched hand, then relaxed, dipping his head.

 

Mikhail stroked the horse’s nose, murmuring soothingly to him. Shivers tickled her spine at his soft voice, and she wondered what it would be like for Mikhail to speak to her like that. Delicious.

 

Her gaze drifted to the Russian’s hand, still petting Barney. She sighed inwardly, wishing Mikhail’s long, tanned fingers stroked her, not her horse.

 

Stop it.

 

Telling herself to concentrate on her horse’s well-being, she watched Mikhail as a potential client, not a potential boyfriend. Or at least tried to. He seemed to know what he was doing, and so far, in her opinion, was just as skilled with horses as Cade. Barney stood quietly before him, giving a soft whicker and accepting Mikhail’s petting as his due.

 

“He is a nice horse.” Mikhail ran his eye over Barney in an assessing manner. “Good lines. Beautiful color.”

 

“Thanks.” Pleasure rushed through her. She’d bought Barney five years ago through an ad in the newspaper. As soon as she saw him, she’d fallen in love with him. At fifteen hands, his sturdy body was strong enough to carry her comfortably. She’d saved up for quite a while before buying him, and had never regretted her decision.

 

“If he is good-natured, then he might have been bored and wanted to play. Come. I shall lunge him.” He turned to look at her. “Is that okay with you?”

 

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