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"Ah, so then your last name must be Sinclair." I mumbled.
"We can't keep a thing from you can we?" he teased.
"And that means Derringer is uh . . .yourhorse?"
“He is. How's it that you were able to get Derringer out like this?” he asked.
"Frankly, no one else wants to mess with him. I guess I liked the challenge of getting him to trust me. We’re friends now. I bribe him with carrots, groom him, and talk to him. I really want to build a rapport with him. Eventually I plan on exercising him over in the arena at the Belle. He's had some dressage training right?"
Trey's face darkened in anger. Oh what now?
"You misunderstood the question Ms. Preston. I'm curious as to why you'd disregard the orders I've given with respect to the horse and bring him out of the pasture."
Okay now his arrogance was prickling me and I have a tendency to get defensive in situations such as this which I know is immature given his status here.
"I'm not sure that I've disregarded any orders, Mr. Sinclair. I'm being paid to take care of the horses and that's what I'm doing. There's no reason Derringer should be treated differently than the others. He needs to be ponyed right along with the quarters and jumpers daily. That's my plan once I've gained enough of his trust to mount him."
"My instructions were specific to Ray regarding this horse! No one mounts Derringer except me! He's an expensive piece of horseflesh and I won't have some novice equestrian wannabe taking risks with him, is that understood?" His eyes were ablaze as he looked down at me. I'm sure the color had drained from my face giving him the satisfaction of knowing he'd scared the piss out of me.
"Is that understood?" His voice had a steely edge.
I nodded, taking a step back from him. "Yes," I squeaked. "Perfectly."
"Good," he said, bending down to grab Derringer's reins from the ground. He looped them around his hand and with one swift, lithe movement Trey swung himself up and onto the horse's bare back, turning to peer down at me, as Derringer did a side-step. "Because, Ms. Preston, if this happens again, your ass will be fired."
He pressed his calves into the horse's sides taking off, presumably for the stables leaving me standing there feeling humiliated, chastised and idiotic if front of Jenna.
Pompous ass!
I seethed in anger the whole way back through the woods to the stables. I hoped like hell he was gone by the time I got there. I'd no desire to be at the receiving end of his wrath again.
Once I reached the stables I peeked in the window to make sure he was gone. I saw that Derringer had been untacked and was back in his stall. I went inside and made sure to fill the water trough for the horses and then called it a day. What a fucked-up end of the day! I'm sure Jenna would broadcast to everyone that I'd had my ass ripped by Trey Sinclair. What an uptight snob! Probably been spoiled all his life!
Jenna had done her share of gossiping about him the few weeks I'd been here. Something about him being a high-powered attorney somewhere else, owning shares of the family business, a scandalous broken engagement in his past, and oh yeah, Jenna dreamed of 'doing him' one day soon. Probably what she'd been arranging on the front porch of the mansion over at the Belle earlier. I tried to put it all out of my mind as I crossed the pasture heading toward the bank of cottages and the cold shower that awaited me. Suddenly, the loud roar of tires caught my attention as I spotted a black Lamborghini Gallardo convertible speeding down the Sinclair estate driveway. The driver wore sunglasses. There was no mistaking the burnished brown hair flying back from that sinfully handsome face. As the car passed the pasture to my right, the driver glanced over. For a split second, I thought I could actually make out his smile. Despite his assholiness with me there was no denying Trey Sinclair was smokin' hot.
Ah yes, that shower's going to cool me off nicely.
CHAPTER 2
The bank of eight identical cottages was spread across two acres of land on the estate. Two of the eight housed full-time year-round hands who’ve been employed by the Sinclair family for years.
Cottage One was Ray Gillespie’s. I liked Ray a lot. He was in his late 50s and had been with the Sinclairs for more than 30 years. Ray was gray-haired, with soft green eyes, a bushy moustache, and a kind smile. He had a girlfriend in town named Denise.
Cottage Two belonged to Charlie Roberts, also in his late 50s, and the other full-time hand. A quiet man who kept mostly to himself, no one knew much about his past. Charlie was thin, with close-set small eyes, graying auburn hair, and a weak chin.
The college help inhabited the rest of the cottages. There was Clint who helped Luke and me at the stables at the main estate where the Sinclair's lived, and also at the Belle. Clint was tall, blond, and lean. He had a great sense of humor, and was sort of protective of me. He was actually my first friend here. He was 22 and a senior year at Virginia Tech. Clint was assigned to show me the ropes during my initial training. He was very patient and not hesitant to share his knowledge.
My cottage was the fifth one down. Like the others, it was made of cedar wood, with a small, railed front porch. I loved to sit out in the evenings after sunset watching the stars lace the summer sky. The nights were black in the country, the cottage porch lights were all we had to guide us if we got back late.
Jenna's cottage was next to mine and I laughed to myself as I passed it seeing a clothesline strung across her front porch with all of her fine delicates dancing in the summer breeze. Friday was her day to hang her thong underwear out on the line to display. She claimed she'd never dream of machine washing such fine silk.
Skank.
I entered my cottage, hooking the screen door behind me to allow some air inside. The ceiling fan was on but did little to dissipate the heat and humidity within the cottage. The main room was L-shaped, combining a small living area with a kitchenette and breakfast bar. The breakfast bar was on the other side of the countertop and had three stools. The small bedroom was off of the kitchen, and thankfully, the one window in the bedroom held an air conditioner. If I closed the door from the kitchen and turned on the unit, the room cooled fairly quickly, even reaching the bathroom that was directly off of the bedroom.
Switching it on to full blast, I stripped to my bra and panties and sprawled out on the bed. Grabbing a Cosmo from my nightstand, I flipped the pages while the cool air washed over me. Cosmo was reporting on yet another type of female orgasm. How many types did that make now? Three? Four? Hell, I'd be happy just to know what one (non-self induced) one felt like! I was so curious about sex, and especially about good sex, yet my experience with guys had amounted to nothing more than making out and some "non-risk" petting.
I liked guys. I loved the way they walked. I loved the way their muscles moved. Today even, I'd had to force myself not to allow my eyes to drift to Trey’s crotch while he was ripping into me! So why had I never had a man?
