Teach Me To Ride Read Free

met his eyes. “And it seems you’re quite the celebrity around here.”
    “Is that so?” His words came through clenched teeth.
    “You’re the best trainer this side of the Atlantic, according to half the riders and spectators I spoke to. Is it true?” Her eyes flashed with provocation. “Are you that good?”
    He stared. She was stunning…but damn annoying. He blinked and tilted his head toward the arena behind her. “My best horse is about to compete in the jumping. Why don’t you go and follow Jack Henshaw through his events and see what you think of the horse he’s riding. She’s mine.”
    For a long moment, she said nothing and then spoke in a soft purr. “I’d rather talk to you than watch a horse jumping around a ring.”
    Oh, you want to play, do you? Michael smiled. Fire and someone getting burned came to mind. “You watch her today and then come and see me tomorrow.”
Her eyes darkened and the soft smile playing at her full lips vanished. She pulled her shoulders back. “I write my stories as I see fit and standing in an arena watching a horse jump over a few poles is not where I’m going to find the story I want.”
    The anger in her eyes stoked his interest—and attraction—up another notch. “No?”
    “No.” She tilted her chin, her gaze flashing with challenge. “The real story is standing in front of me.”
    Okay, you win. Let’s play. Michael stepped closer and, he had to give her credit, she held her ground despite the pulse that beat in the sweet hollow of her throat. “Come back tomorrow and we’ll…talk. For now, go watch my horse. You’ll learn just how persuasive I can be, how careful and attentive. Then you’ll have your questions prepared and, if you’re good, I’ll give you the answers you need for the best damn story of your life.”
    The skin at her exquisite neck shifted as she swallowed, the tip of her tongue slowly wetting her bottom lip, and Michael inwardly cursed when his eyes followed the motion. Touché . He looked up and met her eyes.
    She smiled smugly. “You think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”
    The question caught him off guard. He was used to handling women, eager groupies keen to get close him, to get closer to the jumpers. Her boldness and confidence hummed between them, making Michael want to grip her shoulders, jerk her against his chest, and close his mouth possessively over hers.
    He took a step back, his heart pounding rhythmically. “Like I said, we’ll talk tomorrow.”
    She opened her mouth to say more, but Michael turned and walked back to the stable without giving her chance to argue. He had a hard-on the size of Mount Vesuvius…and damned if he’d allow that woman to see what she did to him.

Chapter Three
    The next day, Caroline strutted into the stable courtyard with an air of bravado in each shaky stride. Wearing skinny blue jeans and a crisp white shirt, she’d unbuttoned the shirt as far as decency allowed, and the black leather boots were as high under the same criteria.
    If Michael Canton thought he’d get the better of her with his handsome looks and knee-melting smile, he had another thing coming.
    She’d taken his advice and hung around yesterday, watching the horses he’d trained. They were beautiful, content, and so obedient to their riders…like puppies begging for a treat. Caroline swallowed. Which was exactly why her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. What if Michael had the power to make her equally as malleable?
    Drawing in a shaky breath, she shielded her eyes against the midday sun and scanned the yard. With no idea if he would be here or in the arena, she’d come straight to the stables to seek him out before nerves took over. Nerves. A whole new concept that pissed her off. Since when did she get nervous?
    She was there for a story. A real, bona fide local scandal that would make her editor realize that, no matter how much he felt she needed “reining in,” Caroline James always found out what