The Virgin's Debt to Pay
Pete grinned. ‘He’s a she.’
‘What the—?’ Luc looked back and his skin prickled with a kind of awareness. The jockey and horse came around the nearest corner and as they thundered past him he caught a glimpse of dark red hair tucked under the cap and a delicate jawline. He recalled Percy Mortimer saying Nessa was a good rider.
Luc’s nervous system fizzed immediately, even before Pete said, ‘It’s Nessa O’Sullivan.’
For the past couple of days Luc had been ruthlessly crushing any memories or reminders of what had happened in the stables. At night, though, when he was asleep, he couldn’t control his mind: his dreams were filled with X-rated memories. He’d woken every morning with a throbbing erection and every muscle screaming for release.
He hadn’t been at the mercy of his body like this since his hormones had run wild as a teenager.
It was galling; humiliating.
And here she was again, provoking him.
Pete was looking at him. ‘Well?’
Luc controlled himself with effort. ‘What the hell is she doing on my horse?’
Pete’s grin faded. He put up his hands in a gesture of supplication. ‘I’ve known Nessa for years, Luc. I know her whole family. They’ve been riding horses since before they could walk. Her sister and father are excellent trainers. I’ve seen Nessa race—she’s not done many, granted, but she’s got her licence and she’s a natural. We were short a rider today and so I asked Mrs Owens if I could borrow her. I don’t know what she’s doing working for your housekeeper, Luc, but she’s wasted there. She should be out here. All she’s been waiting for is an opportunity to prove herself.’
If it had been anyone else but his trusted and very talented trainer, and if Luc hadn’t seen her with his own two eyes, he would have fired Pete on the spot. And he wasn’t about to tell Pete
why Nessa was working at the house.
He looked back at the gallops to see the riders dismounting and walking the horses back to the stables. He spotted her immediately, the smallest of the bunch, immediately bringing to mind how tight she’d felt when he’d breached her body. Virgin. No protection. And he still wanted her with a hunger that unnnerved him.
Oblivious to what was going on in his head, Pete said, ‘Luc, I think you should use her in the next race. Give her a chance.’
Luc looked at Pete, provocation and frustration boiling over. ‘You’ve done enough for now. I don’t care how talented a jockey she is, she knew better than to say yes to your request.’
* * *
Nessa was still buzzing with adrenalin after exercising the horse, and chatting with the other riders, some of whom she knew. They’d all been curious as to why she was here but she’d kept it vague.
She was in the changing room and had just pulled off her mud-spattered top when the door slammed open and she whirled around, holding the shirt to her chest. ‘Do you mind?’
But it wasn’t Pete or one of the other riders entering the ladies’ changing room near the racing stables. It was Luc Barbier and he looked murderous. The door shut behind him with an ominously quiet click, and the room was suddenly tiny.
She’d deliberately avoided thinking about Luc’s reaction if he found out. Apparently for good reason.
He stood before the door in worn jeans and a black polo shirt. He’d never looked more forbiddingly sexy. Nessa’s insides melted even as she tried to ignore her body’s response. Luc hadn’t come near her for the past couple of days, making it perfectly clear that the other night couldn’t have been a bigger mistake. And while Nessa agreed on every rational level, she hated to admit that she’d been hurt by the dismissal.
Guilt lanced her now. Had she agreed to Pete’s request to fill in for one of the jockeys, knowing Luc wouldn’t approve, to provoke a reaction? Nessa was afraid she knew the answer to that.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Luc’s voice was quiet, which made him sound even angrier.
Nessa lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated, clutching her top to her chest. ‘Pete was short a rider and so he asked me if I’d fill in. I was just doing him a favour.’ Liar, mocked a voice. The thrumming of her pulse told her very eloquently why she’d done it.
‘You knew very well that you weren’t allowed to go near the horses. I don’t let anyone that I don’t personally vet myself near them.’
Nessa tried not to sound defensive. ‘Pete knows me. He’s seen me ride before. And it wasn’t his fault,’ she said hurriedly, having visions of Luc sacking him. ‘I knew I should have said no...but I couldn’t resist. It’s my fault.’
Once again Luc was struck somewhere uncomfortable at how readily Nessa was able to take the blame from someone else. Her brother, and now Pete, who wasn’t even related to her.
As if physically incapable of allowing space between them, Luc moved closer, seeing how Nessa’s hands tightened on her top. He commented, ‘It’s not as if I haven’t seen you before.’
She blushed. Amazingly. And it had a direct effect on Luc’s body, sending blood surging south.
She scooted her head and arms back into her top but not before Luc had seen a generous amount of pale flesh and her breasts encased in a sports vest top. Her hair was caught at the back of her head in a bun, and he curled his hands to fists to stop from reaching out and undoing it.