Victoria sat at her bedroom window, her large green eyes fixed on the distant doors of the stables. Absentmindedly she twirled a strand of wavy auburn hair around her finger. At last there was movement and sitting up, she moved closer to the window, squinting to see better. Dawson was leading two horses out through the wide doorway.
She watched as he expertly handled the two animals, his large hands easily holding the reins. Victoria had been madly in love with him when she was younger, and even now at eighteen he could still cause her pulse to race. She quickly glanced over at him, taking in his tall, leanly muscled frame, his dark blond hair and warm brown eyes. Normally her eyes would be glued to him but not today. Her gaze skimmed over the two horses and she impatiently waited for him to go back inside. When she saw him send one of the young stable boys to the house to fetch her, her heart sank.
She flounced away from the window and without even bothering to double check her appearance she swept from the room.
"I know, he's ready for me," she sighed at the parlor maid sent to fetch her.
Striding across the yard that separated the house from the stables, Dawson could see from the look on her face that she wasn't happy.
"Where's the other horse?" she snapped at him.
"Only the two today, Miss Victoria," he replied patiently, handing her the reins to her horse.
"But I told you, I want to learn how to ride astride," she stated, her lush lips pouting.
"And I told you, your mother would have my hide if I did any such thing." With a grace that never failed to surprise her, he swung up into his saddle. "It's not ladylike," he said, looking down at her.
"Fiddlesticks," she muttered. She briefly considered dropping the reins and going back inside if he wasn't going to teach her, but decided against it. Perhaps she could talk him into letting her ride his horse. It was a large stallion with a notoriously bad disposition but that didn't scare her.
She demurely settled herself into her side saddle and they rode off into the fields. They returned half an hour later, both furious. Victoria had pestered him continuously about letting her ride his horse and he had adamantly refused, coming close to losing his temper more than once.
As they rode into the stable yard, she demanded, "The next time I want to go riding you are going to teach me how to ride astride."
"No, I'm not Miss Victoria," he replied with a patience he did not feel. "You know how your mother feels about it."
"I don't care," she pouted. With a superior smile, she continued, "Well, if you won't teach me, I'll just have to ask one of the other grooms. I think Mac would be more than willing to teach me."
Dawson had alighted from his horse and gripped the reins, his usually warm eyes dark with fury. "You are not going riding with him. You are only allowed to go out with me. Your parents don't even like that much, but they tolerate it. They will not allow you out with someone like Mac."
She alighted from her horse and stood facing him, her hands on her hips. "What they don't know won't hurt them," she retorted with a smug smile.
"You are not to go out riding with him. I won't allow it," he said in a low voice.
"What you don't know won't hurt you," she mocked before tossing him the reins and sauntering back into the house.
He was shaking with barely contained fury as he tended to the horses. She was a lovely girl, far more than she realized. He knew she had no idea the effect she had on men, especially men like Mac. Mac was a big man, not as tall as Dawson, but still big and stocky, with a large belly. He seldom bathed or shaved, his odor usually letting anyone know he was nearby. His surprisingly exceptional ability with horses was the only reason he was still employed by this family.
Dawson had overheard Mac talking about Miss Victoria many times. Heard him talking about the lewd things he would love to do to her. It made Dawson sick to his stomach to even think about someone like Mac touching her. She was meant for the touch of fine gentlemen, not rough stable hands like Mac, or even himself, he admitted.
He also had to admit, that he had often thought about what he would love to do to her. Not the way that Mac talked about it though. He would be slow and gentle with her, teasing her senses, awakening them to the erotic wonders he would show her. He shook his head, clearing away the sensuous thoughts. It will never happen.
The next morning as he entered the stables he noticed that her horse was gone. Turning about he quickly scanned the other stalls. A mild mare was also missing and so was Dakota. His blood ran cold when he recalled that Dakota was the stallion that Mac liked to ride. Quickly locating another groom, he anxiously asked where the horses were.
"Mac took Miss Victoria out with an additional horse, earlier this morning," the boy answered.
"When? How long ago?" he asked hurriedly, dread creeping through his veins.
"About half an hour ago. They headed east across the fields," he added.
Dawson had his own favorite horse saddled in record time and was thundering across the fields, hoping he wasn't too late.
"Now, Miss Victoria, put your weight on the leg in the stirrup and pull yourself up, swinging your other leg over the back of the horse. Just like you've seen others do it," Mac was instructing her. He was hoping she wouldn't get it right and that he'd have an excuse to touch her legs. Maybe even grab her behind.
Victoria wished he wasn't standing so close to her. She didn't want to even brush up against him, but she supposed that if she lost her balance, he would be there to catch her. A small shiver of revulsion, slid up her spine at the thought. I'd almost rather hit the ground, she thought.
Shaking her head and concentrating on the task at hand, she raised her foot into the stirrup and gripping the pommel of the saddle she tried to pull up and swing into the saddle. As she feared, she lost her balance and tumbled into Mac.
She felt his hands slide over her thighs and across her bottom and suspected that he had done it on purpose. He held her tightly in his arms even though it was quite clear she could stand on her own.
"Please Mr. MacIntosh, release me," she demanded, trying to wriggle out of his embrace.
