“Are you all right?”
I looked up at him.
A strong brow, much like Apollo’s and his hair was exactly the same as Apollo’s, though cut shorter (however, it was not short).
But his eyes were a rich chocolate brown.
Pol had a big family, this I knew, though I’d never met a one of them. They didn’t like drug dealers either, apparently. Then again, Pol had shown signs of going to the dark side early on in life. I knew this because, in a rare moment of honesty, he’d shared he had a juvie record and by the time I’d met him he’d long since been disowned.
This made our wedding a lonely affair that I’d lied to myself was just fine. I had him and he was all I needed (that was a lie too, then and more so much later).
Looking into the kind, intelligent eyes of the man with me, I wished I’d met some of Pol’s family.
They might have warned me.
Then again, I wouldn’t have listened.
“Fine. I just got my ribs jarred a little,” I answered, his head cocked and I quickly went on. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”
“My apologies, madam. I was too rough pulling you from the steed,” he replied. “You’d lost control and I didn’t want you on him by yourself with me on the ground. When a horse senses it has control, it can take advantage.”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t you who hurt me. It’s…before I got here, to this world, I mean, I…” I trailed off when his eyes dropped to the fading bruise on my cheekbone.
I heard some “whoas” around me and knew we were being joined by several someones but again he spoke so I couldn’t look.
“Of course, Apollo had told us.”
Great.
“It’s okay,” I assured him as I felt others joining us.
“It is not. And it’s also not a good idea for you to be on the back of a horse in your state. Especially if you don’t know how to ride, precisely due to what just happened. You could have been injured worse.”
“You need to use your legs.”
This was another voice and I looked to my left to see burnished-haired hot romance novel guy who spoke with the prostitute and the boy I’d noticed around the last couple of days. Though, he wasn’t exactly a boy, more like a boy-man. I was guessing he was sixteen or seventeen years old. He had dark blond hair and dark blue eyes and I knew he’d grow up to be a looker because he already was one.
“And your mouth,” the voice went on, that voice coming from the boy-man.
“My mouth?” I asked.
One side of his lips twitched up. “To say, ‘whoa,’” he instructed then continued. “It’d also be a good idea to use your reins.”
I pressed my lips together but didn’t succeed in suppressing my smile before I replied, “I’ll remember that next time.”
“Her ribs are injured,” the man who saved me informed the burnished-haired man.
“Then why is she on a horse?” the burnished-haired man asked him then his annoyed gaze slid to me. “Especially if she doesn’t know how to ride one.”
Jeez.
“This is a good question,” the man who saved me noted and I looked to him.
“I’ve never ridden a horse. Never even been around one, really, until yesterday,” I explained and his eyes widened in immediate shock.
“You jest,” the burnished-haired man drew my attention and he, too, looked shocked.
“We don’t have horses where I’m from. I mean, we do,” I said the last quickly because their shock had turned to what appeared to be alarmed astonishment. “But only rich people have them. Or, if you love horses enough, you sacrifice other things so you can keep them or pay to ride them.”