surprise me, beguile me. Tease me into wanting something I’ve told myself would never work. “How long have you had her?”
“A few months,” he says, taking another few steps to the side, coming an inch away from touching her before moving away. “But I’ve only just started taking her out. She had abrasions on her legs when I got her, and a lung infection that hadn’t been treated.”
Unease moves through my stomach as I look at the beautiful animal. She’s dangerous and strong… and healthy. It hurts to imagine her as anything else. And underneath the rebelliousness I sense the dark tinge of fear.
“Someone hurt her?”
“They neglected her,” he says, his voice flat. “Which is the same thing when she needs to be taken care of. A friend of mine found her in a stall with someone he was doing business with. Bought her because he couldn’t stand to see the conditions she was living in. Almost put her down before he thought to call me.”
Steel squeezes my heart. “Put her down?”
Sutton takes another few steps, passing close enough to touch her but choosing not to. The horse snorts her protest but doesn’t move away from him. It strikes me that this is a dance, the athleticism and grace unmistakable, purpose imbued into his every movement.
“It takes quite a bit of money to take care of a horse. Especially one who already has health problems. One who will still need to be broken.”
His matter-of-fact tone takes my breath away. Does he think about people that way, too? Does he think about me that way? “Is that how you see her?”
“Of course not. That’s why—”
The pounding of my heart fills my ears. “With a dollar sign over her head? And if her medicine costs more than that, what’s the point of keeping her alive? She’s disposable anyway.”
Sutton walks toward me, and suddenly I’m backing away. The safety I had felt on the other side of the fence evaporates beneath his piercing blue eyes. He ducks between the horizontal slats, coming toward me, making me back away until I finally remember to stand my ground. Then we’re face-to-face, and I’m confronted with the sheer size of him. In the paddock it had been theoretical, more like artwork to be admired. Standing in front of me, he breathes and moves with potent hunger. More than something to be wanted, he’s someone who wants.
“That’s not how I see her,” he says, his tone gentle.
“I’m sorry,” I say, breathless. “Of course you don’t. You’re taking care of her.”
“She has a home here. Even if she never lets me ride.”
“Okay,” I say, my chest tight.
His eyes pierce my armor, seeing the secret fear I’ve worked hard to protect. That I’m only a series of numbers preceded by a dollar sign. That I’m a living, breathing line-item entry in a spreadsheet, no matter how much I pretend to be worth more than that.
“I’m surprised you’re even speaking to me,” he says, his gaze turning dark. He looks at my lips for a moment. “Figured you’d be pissed about the price tag for the library.”
“I thought you weren’t part of the company anymore.”
“Resigned my position, which means I didn’t have a say. But I still owned my share of the company and profited from the deal that Bardot made with you.”
“It was his decision to be an asshole. I just wish I hadn’t played into his hand.”
“Then why are you still doing it?” The words are soft, but they fall like bullets.
“I’m not.”
“You think he doesn’t want you back in Tanglewood? Back in the library?”
“He doesn’t care what I do.” I’m doing this for my mother, because I will do almost anything for her. Except for meet with the person from the hospice to help make her Death Plan. The name makes me shiver. Hurt and hurt and hurt, and then die. We don’t need a plan.
We need a time machine.
A quiet laugh. “Christopher Bardot is far from indifferent. He’s developing the luxury condominiums right next to the library, and guess who lives on the top floor?”
I stare at him, disbelieving. But even while my mind refuses to accept this, my body turns warm. “Whatever happens next to the library isn’t my problem. I’m only concerned with restoring it. Will you help me? It’s important for the city.”
And no one else will take the job.
Every construction company I’ve tried has told me to tear down the building and start again. The words not structurally sound have been used