He looked up to see Mason leaving through the open French windows that led out into the gardens. Good. What they had to say to each other did not need an audience.
* * *
Mason sucked in a deep, hopefully calming breath of cool air, letting it soothe her heated skin. There was no way that Danyl would have told his mother. Mason certainly hadn’t told her father. He’d known that something had happened in New York. Perhaps something more than Rebel’s death. But she’d never spoken of it. Not to him. She wasn’t stupid, and had known that she needed to talk to someone. A few years after she had returned to Australia, one of the councillors at the farm had noticed that something was wrong and had offered to talk to her about it. And she had. And it had helped. A little.
A noise behind her startled her, even as her body recognised the tangible effect of Danyl’s presence. She’d always known him—even when she couldn’t see him. The hairs on her arms would lift, there would be a tingling sensation at the nape of her neck...even ten years hadn’t seemed to be able to dull that awareness.
The white of his shirt stood out like a beacon in the darkness. His gaze was hooded by shadows and that powerful brow of his. He’d undone the bow tie, the black silk material dangling from his neck, the shirt open at the collar. He looked...incredible. He always had. Desire stung her cheeks, and chest, need bleeding out of her in response.
He held out a Manila envelope to her, but something told her that she didn’t want to take it.
‘What is it?’
‘Read it.’
‘I’m not sure I want to.’ Mason still hadn’t taken the envelope.
‘It was Scott.’
‘What?’ Confusion coursed through her veins.
‘Scott drugged Rebel, told the press and the Racing Commission it was Harry, accused you of being on drugs. He was the one who caused Rebel’s death. Not you. And sadly Rebel wasn’t the only horse to die as a result of his machinations.’
‘Scott?’ She couldn’t quite believe it, though if she was honest, perhaps she could. She hadn’t given him a second thought after that race, after the discovery of the test results and after what happened next.
‘Perhaps if you read it yourself, you wouldn’t have to parrot back everything I say.’
‘I don’t want to read it.’ And suddenly she was angry. She was angry at him for not letting it go. For digging into a past she wanted left alone. For making her come here...for everything. ‘What is this supposed to be, Danyl? Some fix-all for the pains of the past?’
‘It’s supposed to be the truth. Finally. The press can leave you alone, you can race again if you want to. Other syndicates will certainly take you on now.’
‘And you think that dragging it all up again will make it better? I knew that I was innocent, that Harry was innocent. I don’t need some piece of paper to prove it.’
‘No, but the press do. And if you want them off your back, then this is the way.’
‘This? The only thing this is, is the ability to finally stop Scott from hurting other horses, and other jockeys. Yes, this should be known. It should be known by the authorities. But this isn’t for me.’
‘I thought this would...’
‘I don’t want you digging around in my past, Danyl.’ She was almost shouting now.
‘Don’t you mean our past?’ he bit back.
‘No! I mean mine. For all intents and purposes no one knew you were there. You weren’t mentioned in the press, you weren’t involved. So no. My past is where you’ve been digging and I want you to leave it alone. Leave me alone.’
Mason turned to walk away, but Danyl’s fingers wrapped around her forearm and brought her spinning back round and almost smacking straight into his chest. She had to look up at him, craning her neck back just to see his face.
* * *
‘But it’s not just your past, is it? It’s mine too.’ Danyl’s voice was rough and scratchy. Not from desire, or need, but hurt and pain. ‘And you’re cutting me out of it, just like you did last time. We can’t avoid this any more. We have to face this so we can move on.’
‘Is that what you want? To move on? With a practically perfect queen who will want nothing from you, demand nothing more of you? Tell me, Danyl, why on earth did you hire a matchmaker?’
‘Who told you that?’ he demanded roughly.
‘Your mother. She seems very well informed.’
‘I