loud. “There’s hardly a pile of transgressions.”
“Shall we list them? Just so we’re in the same place for this apology.”
Her eyes narrowed as she examined his face. Was he . . . teasing her?
“There’s tricking me into hiring you in the first place.”
Well. Yes. That had started the whole thing. Claiming she had merely taken advantage of an opportunity wouldn’t negate the offense.
“One could even surmise you feel the need to apologize for not taking the money I offered you to walk away.”
The man definitely appeared to be enjoying this. She fought a smile. Before she could defend herself against that non-iniquity, he held up a hand. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I understand why you didn’t, but there’s still room for regret, all things considered.”
He did have a point. But she wouldn’t trade the past week’s experiences even if she could. “I’m not apologizing for that.”
“No?” The teasing glint fell from his eyes. “Perhaps for hiding your brother?”
Guilt weighed down her middle. Being generally apologetic was far preferable to dealing with the specifics. “I was thinking more of apologizing for how difficult I’ve made your life.”
He frowned. “You mean the accusations? The conversations I’ve had to endure with people who think they get a say in my life? Or the establishment owners who threaten to ban me from the premises?”
Her knees trembled. He’d gone through all that? Because of her? “I—” She had to stop and swallow before she could continue in anything louder than a croak. “I didn’t know about all that.”
“Good.” He lifted one hand and smoothed a stray hair back behind her ear, his dark eyes flicking over to watch the strand before falling back to connect with her own gaze. “Because those are the fault of the people who can’t see past the dirt on their own noses. You’ve plenty of other issues at your feet without picking up theirs.”
“Oh.” What was she doing again? Oh yes. Apologizing. But not for other people. “I guess I won’t apologize for that either, then.”
“No, you shouldn’t.”
They stared at each other, the air thickening around them. He cleared his throat and eased back, leaning his shoulder against the wall again. “There’s making my trainer quit.”
“He doesn’t count among the people making their own decisions?”
He gave her a nod. “Fair point.” He looked at the horse, the floor, and then her, eyes serious. “There’s also yesterday’s kiss to consider.”
Of all the things he’d listed, that was probably the one she should apologize for the most. And the one she regretted the least. “There is that.”
“But one shouldn’t apologize unless they truly regret their actions.”
One more thing she shouldn’t apologize for, then. “Do you regret it?”
That half smile quirked up again. “Do I regret your using my lips to shut your own?” He took a deep breath and blew it out between tight lips. “I should. But I’m finding I don’t. I told myself I wasn’t going to have anything to do with you aside from the racing.”
“But you changed your mind?” she whispered.
“About a minute ago.”
“Why?”
“You hugged your horse.”
She ran a hand down Rhiannon’s neck. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m not sure I do either. Would it be enough to say I wanted you to be that happy to see me? That I wanted that bright joy directed at me?”
He’d been jealous of her horse? She bit her lip to keep from grinning. She did not want him to think she was laughing at him. Nor did she want him to think kissing strange men was how she normally got out of scrapes. “I’ve never done that before.”
“Hugged your horse?” He chuckled. “Somehow I doubt that.”
“No, the . . . the tricking and the . . .” She waved a hand toward his face. “The kissing.” She sighed. “I’m not sure why I did it yesterday. I couldn’t stop myself—not from talking, not from wanting to tell you more than I should have, not from kissing you. None of it was planned.”
“Sophia.”
“I’m glad you aren’t angry at me. That is, you don’t seem angry. At least not at me.” She didn’t mind if he was angry at other people, particularly those who were deliberately making his life difficult. “I’ll try not to do anything to upset you again. I mean, if you were upset. I don’t really know. I can’t read you very well.”
“Sophia?”
“Yes?”
“You’re doing it again.”
“I am, aren’t I?”
He nodded, relaxing further against the wall, with a small, real smile on his lips.
“I’m very good at rambling. I’m not very