He got the message and turned reluctantly to leave. As he went, she tried to memorize the angles and planes of that beloved face, storing that vision up for when she was alone again. Without him.
But why would she worry? It wasn’t as if any of this mattered. It was all make-believe.
Right?
***
As Alex walked into the stables, his mind was a whirl of doubt, confusion, and guilt. So much had happened since he’d opened his eyes that morning. First, he’d tried to let Jacyn down gently before things got out of hand between them, and discovered to his amazement that she didn’t seem to care either way.Just having fun,was what she had called it.
Stupid of him to think there was more between them than that. If she was satisfied with just using him for sex, he’d better get a grip before he lost any more of himself.
And Sofia! She’d run to him full of tears, wailing about the injustice that had been dealt to her. But as much as he was gutted over the terrible thing his brother had done to her, and appalled that Liam would have the gall to turn around and divorce her after all that had happened, he still couldn’t find inside him the feelings he had once harbored for her. He’d dug deep, but nothing. Nothing but warm memories of young love, and compassion for her current situation.
It was as though Jacyn had destroyed his defenses, moved into his heart without his permission, and raided his soul. There was no longer any part of him that belonged to Sofia.
And when Sofia saw that she wasn’t getting anywhere, she resorted to one thing that always came in handy: her femininity. She’d thrown herself into his arms and planted a kiss on his lips before he’d even had a chance to react.
And then Jacyn and his brother had walked in. Talk about the worst possible moment! Liam had barely said a word to him thereafter, and Sofia had left looking smug.
Which brought him to Jacyn’s crazy idea that Sofia would somehow be involved in her mishap with the horse. She was possessive and competitive, sure, but attempting to do someone harm? That was ridiculous.
He looked around the stable. The stable hands had already left, having made sure the horses were fed and settled for the evening. So there was nobody around to answer questions. He went into Orage’s stall. The horse was standing in a corner, docile, but Alex immediately realized that the saddle wasn’t his. It was much too big, and so old they didn’t even use that style anymore. It was ill-fitting, and the fact that Jacyn had fallen from it came as no surprise.
Alex felt chilly dread settle inside him. Could someone possibly have tried to hurt her? And why? Surely it couldn’t be Sofia; she had enough problems to deal with, and besides, she loathed riding and hadn’t done so it years. She certainly wouldn’t have the knowledge and foresight to orchestrate such a fall.
Perplexed, he walked back to the château, wondering what to do next and how to get to the heart of his mystery. He realized he hadn’t eaten all day, and longed to go to his quarters and fix himself something quick, but first he wanted to make sure Jacyn was comfortable and not in pain.
He let himself in via the adjoining doors and headed straight for her bedroom, where he could hear voices. From the doorway he could see Willa, snuggled next to Jacyn, who was propped up on many pillows. Willa sounded both horrified by the fall, and was sternly lecturing Jacyn on the basics of riding, including wearing the right gear and making sure your saddle was on properly.
“It was sort of wiggly,” he heard Jacyn say.
Willa, who had been riding since she was four, laughed raucously at that. “Wiggly! Who ever heard of a wiggly saddle! You always make sure it’s tight. Even Monsieur Martin knows that, and he’s so silly! I saw him riding this morning with a brand-new saddle, and he had it done up properly!”
Alex stiffened so suddenly every muscle in his back tightened. Martin, Willa’s tutor. He’d often seen the guy wandering around the stables; sometimes they let him borrow a horse.
It couldn’t be.
Without letting his presence be known, Alex rushed from the suite. By the time he was out in the hallway, he had broken into a run. Martin had a small room at the château, in the wing occupied by the live-in staff. He slept there from Sunday night until Thursday night and then went God-knew-where for the weekend. Probably had an apartment in town.
Alex stormed into the wing and went straight to the door that bore the man’s name on a little sign. He didn’t bother to knock.
Martin was sitting on the couch, watching British television and sipping a cup of tea. When he saw Alex, he choked so hard he went into a coughing fit, almost turning blue. Alex didn’t give him any time to recover. He barked, “Did you interfere with Orage’s saddle this morning?”
The carrot-haired man’s pale eyes bugged. “Wh-what?”
Alex stepped closer, his greater height and larger bulk looming intimidatingly. He repeated in tones that brooked no opposition or misunderstanding.“Did you interfere with the horse that Jacyn rode?”
Martin slicked back his hair and struggled for composure. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Dubois. And might I remind you, that it’s well after hours and I am on my own time. I have the right to expect privacy—”
Alex loomed over him, roaring in a voice that would make the faint-hearted weak. “I don’t care what you have a right to do. I asked you a question! The next time I ask, you’ll be screaming the answer in pain!”
“It was an accident!” Martin blurted.
“Youaccidentallyswitched saddles between two horses?”
Martin began to bluster. “No, I, not exactly. I mean, I didn’t really try to—I didn’t mean any harm.”
By now Alex had braced him against the wall, making it clear that the only means of escape for the little weasel was through him. “Jacyn fell from the horse. She’s lucky she didn’t break anything. Because I would find you and break the exact same bones on you! Why would you—”