Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter #2) - Melanie Martins Page 0,56

doesn’t give a shit, and she is already showing me once more how to do the rotation. “See my thigh?” My eyes are again on her thighs, and I must have checked them out a thousand times by now. “It’s tightening in the saddle, and my right one is gripping and pushing in. This gives me a strong, firm base on the saddle. And I’m confident enough to lean out, turn my shoulders wide, and make my shot without feeling like I’m gonna fall off.” I nod, following every inch of her moves as she executes her shot and the stick head hits the ball.

Wow. It’s pretty dope to watch, and from afar, it seems effortless. “Now go and repeat!”

I get back into position, and when Frodo starts trotting in the direction of the ball, I follow her instructions exactly. My left knee goes into the saddle, then my left thigh tightens into it, my right one grips and pushes in, and with a firm base, I lean out, turn my shoulders almost parallel to the horse, and my mallet goes up and then straight down to hit the ball. Damn! It worked! My eyes glow with excitement seeing the ball soar away, like, super far away.

“Finally!” I shout with joy at my small victory.

Her horse gallops in my direction, and she makes him stop inches from mine. “There is nothing like persistence and training. Good job.”

I lick my lips at her praise. Just to hear another compliment from her, I’d be keen to spend the whole afternoon training.

“Now try to do a nearside forehand shot.”

“Okay, but first, can you show me again how you move your thigh?” I ask with a hint of humor.

Without further ado, she does just that. But Yara is so focused on the demonstration that she doesn’t even understand my underlying intention.

“Sure, so my right knee digs into the saddle, my right foot pushes into the right stirrup, and my left thigh grips the saddle and pushes in. This gives me more freedom and stability in order to reach out on the nearside.”

My lips curve up as I let myself picture her body, this time completely naked in my Italian shower.

“Now go!”

But her loud voice is enough to startle me, and Frodo starts trotting by himself, following her command. What the fuck, dude? You have to obey me, not her! Since I wasn’t focused, and this is a nearside shot, which needs more concentration to execute the rotation, needless to say, I miss the ball terribly.

“You’re not focused! Repeat!”

Jeez, I’m getting tired of her shouting commands. I’m not a polo expert, for fuck’s sake! Give me some time!

“Remember, you don’t have to hit it hard! Keep your shot to twenty, thirty yards!” I hear her saying as I trot again in the direction of the ball.

My position seems stable enough, so I lean out and my mallet goes down and strikes the ball at around twenty yards.

“Yeah!” I say just above a whisper as I see the ball rolling away.

Then I push the reins and instruct Frodo to gallop toward Yara. As I reach her, I notice there’s a smile on her lips. “Well done, Emma.” And mine just gets bigger. “When you focus and follow my instructions, you can do wonders.” I know she’s talking about polo, but my eyes are drawn to her lips, and I imagine her saying that but for another reason. “Alright, let’s take a break,” she says, getting off her saddle.

I do the same, and we take our horses to tie them up at the entrance to the stables. Then I invite her inside the house and into the kitchen. After I take my helmet and gloves off, I open the fridge and grab two small bottles of water. “You want one?”

My question is hanging in the air as I observe Yara taking her helmet off carefully enough not to disarrange her ponytail. If there’s a ladylike manner of taking a helmet off, Yara surely is the best representation of it. Then she removes her gloves with the same elegance, and, as my eyes fall on her hands, I squint upon seeing that she’s got a tattoo on each wrist. Oh, I didn’t expect Mrs. Van Lawick to be tattooed. I don’t think I’ve seen them before, but I recall she was wearing a bracelet and a watch when she arrived, covering her wrists. I look a bit closer as she extends her hand to take the bottle—there’s a