Royal Watch (Royal Watch #1) - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,66
“Have you and Hazel…?”
“What do you want to know?” He arched an eyebrow. “Just ask if you want to know something.”
“None of my business. I just saw the two of you the other night. You looked very cozy.”
For a moment, the only the sounds were the horse hooves and the creaking of the leather saddles echoing in the air, the fresh rain making everything clean and crisp. Penny’s head tossed back, fighting the bit. My palms circled the fur on her neck, soothing her.
“You’re awfully concerned about who I am fucking.”
“I am not. I assure you.”
“Uh-huh,” he replied, staring off, the trail taking us up to a spot overlooking the city in the distance.
“You are really full of yourself.”
“Never said I wasn’t.” He smirked at me.
“You certainly have never been a guard for the royals before.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Your vocabulary and bluntness.” I sounded far too snotty and uptight. Very unlike me; normally, I was the one pushing at convention.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Let’s just say the word fucking is not in the royal decree. You would never hear Dalton utter that word.”
“That you know of.”
I shrugged. True, he could say it behind closed doors, but it would still shock me, he was so formal.
“And what do you have against fucking anyway?” His tone was taunting, sliding over my body like fingers, skating between my thighs.
I huffed, wagging my head, trying to dispel my reaction to him. Why did I care if he was hooking up with Hazel or Katy? He could sleep with thousands of women. Not my concern.
“You know how to ride.” I nodded to him, switching to a safe topic. He was a natural on the horse.
“Grew up on a farm.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Why does that surprise you?”
“I don’t know. You just seem so… city boy to me.”
“Can’t say the it was the life I wanted. Couldn’t wait to get out… but… now I’m starting to see the appeal of the quiet.” He looked out again, his head wagging, lost in thought. “Can’t ever take the country out of the boy, I guess.” I could sense a pinch of sadness to his sentiment, making me feel there was so much I didn’t know about Lennox.
I wanted to ask him more, but as if he felt my questions coming, he darted me a mischievous grin.
“Come on, race you to the top!” Already encouraging his horse, Tornado, to speed up, his mount took off.
“Hey!” I laughed, spurring Ms. Dreadful on. She was ready to be let free, her legs galloping after Tornado, her head down, set on overtaking him. I could see how she was still a bit wild. Horses for royal officers, parades, or the royals themselves needed to have that fire broken out of them. I loved her extra fire, could feel a kindred spirit. I could relate; the royals wanted to break me in as well.
My body moved with hers as we sped up the hill. The wind whipped at my hair, laughter and exhilaration bubbling in my chest. I realized for the first time in weeks, I was happy.
Free.
Chapter 18
The views of the city were stunning, the crisp air bursting my lungs with smells of wet grass, mud, and fresh air. Lennox and I raced our horses, trotted through dense vegetation, and paused at bluffs, looking down on the view. The top of palace and landmarks dotted the skyline with familiarity. The late afternoon began to dip heavier shadows within the forest.
“We should head back.” He peered back at me. I couldn’t help noticing how well his arse fit in the saddle or how confidently he rode. My first crush was one of our horse trainers. I was, like, eight. I went out every day he was there, watching and absorbing everything he did. He seemed to enjoy me out there and would bring me in the corral with him to show me tricks and techniques to break a horse. He was so kind and patient. I adored him. Talked about him constantly.
The moment I realized I liked him more than a friend, I was standing on the fence watching him climb on the horse, my eyes catching on the way his jeans cupped his butt and the way he calmed the mare as she started to reject him on her back, easing her with his hushed, low tones. He had that deep, sexy voice that had any animal or person wanting to do his bidding. I had fallen over my little riding boots for