My words slowed. By that time the trail had narrowed. Marco broke away and took the lead. He cut quite a figure on the black stallion. How could I ever have mistaken him for a stable boy? Turning around, he said, “Trouble?” He had a way of analyzing things.
“Bad habits.” Here I had to be careful. He might have second thoughts about letting Gregorio hang out with my daughter if he knew about Lexi’s situation. She’d be crushed.
“High school is an interesting time,” I said slowly. “Kids do a lot of experimenting, you know, to find out what suits them. Their parents might not agree.”
Marco seemed to let that settle, a frown bringing those brows together in concentration. “I see. But then they should not do these things.”
“Or you will put them in the dungeon?”
Grinning, he drew back. “Oh, no. I would not do that.”
Maybe Gregorio would never do anything to upset his father. But that seemed almost unnatural. How did a teenager learn if he or she did not test the boundaries? He turned back to face the trail. Up ahead the trees thinned. We came out into the soft morning sunlight. A mist teased the rolling field that was a rich green. This was the point where Rudolfo usually turned around. We would circle back, using a path that led to the stables.
Diablo was straining at the bit, as if he knew what lay ahead. But I tightened my hold on Tesoro’s reins, uncertain of this new route. “Aren’t we going back?”
The grin on Marco’s face sent a shiver of apprehension through me. Or was that excitement? “I’d like to show you something. Up ahead.” And he nodded his head with that wild mane of hair.
“Sure.” This sounded like a challenge and I completely lost my head. “No problem.” No way was I backing down.
“Magnifico.” At a signal from Marco, Diablo surged ahead, muscles working in his dark shiny coat. When I loosened the reins, Tesoro didn’t need to feel the pressure of my thighs urging her forward. We were off. Keeping my head low, I tried to post as Rudolfo had taught me, but this rhythm was different. My hair clip tumbled out. Before long I was gasping for air, my hair flying into my mouth. But boy, this was fun. Was this what Lexi and Gregorio did after they’d disappeared into the woods? The only difference was that Lexi had been given lessons. But Rudolfo had taught me well.
Up ahead, Marco rode the stallion as if they were one, his head lowering over the horse’s neck. Diablo’s gait looked wild and free, but always under the hand of Marco. At the pool, I’d been given more than a glimpse of my employer’s muscular chest. No red riding coat and top hat for this man. The cuffs were rolled up on strong forearms. Those buff-colored breeches fit him like a second skin.
Maybe that’s when it happened. Maybe I was thinking too much about the breeches and not enough about the ground and Tesoro’s pace. My heart lurched when I felt the horse stumble. She went down and I went flying. Oh my heavens. The ground came up to meet me and I braced myself. When I landed, I could feel the impact clear through to my teeth.
Mercy me, had I killed his favorite horse?
Rolling over, I stared up. Clouds moved across the sky. Or was my head spinning? Marco was there in an instant. “Are you all right? Christina, talk to me.”
Had I ever heard my name from his lips? Usually it wasSignora NewhartorProfesora. I struggled to sit up but felt so dizzy.
Marco stopped me. “Do you have any injuries?” His hands ran down my arms, gentle but thorough. The same treatment was given to my legs. Oh mercy.
“And inside? How do you feel? Do you have pain anywhere?” Hands poised above me, he looked ready to continue his careful inspection.
“No, I’m fine.” I felt a little bruised but no need to go any further.
Suddenly I was pressed to his chest, while he smoothed the hair from my forehead. His heart pulsed under my hand and my own had gone crazy.
“Is Tesoro all right?” I looked up at him, “I’m so sorry, Marco…Your Majesty.”
“She is fine.” His breath felt warm on my face as he turned to look. “She is eating grass, as usual.”
“Well, fine. I mean, good.”
Marco had the longest lashes I’d ever seen on a man. Dark and sooty, they framed his intense eyes. Didn’t look as if he’d shaved yet that morning. The dark stubble added to his rugged look. His etched lips opened. “Profesora?” More blinking of those lashes.
“Yes, Your Majesty?” The words felt tight in my throat.
“You…you are very beautiful.” The words were said in wonder. Almost as a question. I should have felt insulted. But if Marco was having trouble with his eyesight, so be it. Had anyone ever told me I was beautiful? I think my husband had told me I was pretty.
When Marco gave a shake of his head and loosened his hold, I came to my senses. “Can you get up? I will help.”
All righty. End of that magic moment. Clutching his arms for balance, I stood, my jeans and shirt damp and grass-stained from the tumble. “I’m all right. Really.”
Oh, my word. I won’t be able to sit for a week.
Looking down, he dropped his arms. I watched his chest rise and fall. Somehow I maintained my balance while he slammed the heel of one hand against his forehead. “Stupido. I thought you had crossed the fields before. Show-off.”
