She frowned, but was secretly glad he’d given her a way out of this awkward moment. “No, actually. I’m not.”
She dropped Zelda’s reins, reached up under her skirt and unhooked her stockings, rolling them down and tossing them aside as if she was in her bedroom, where one of the cleaning girls would gather them up, hand wash them, and return them to her dresser drawer. She never took her eyes off Tony’s.
He blinked fast, stumbled, then turned from her, hurrying away, but not before she’d taken off both silky hose and was hiking up her skirt to unfasten the garter belt. She took it off while watching him hurry down the center of the huge barn, holding on to his hat, while she experienced the first of many times she’d regret her impulsive behavior with him, yet loving every minute of it.
Shaking off the compulsion to run after him and apologize, she saddled Zelda, put on a pair of riding boots she found in the tack room, and mounted, relishing the warm strength and power of the animal beneath her. Not to mention the pleasant, familiar pressure between her legs in the astride position.
Grinning to herself, she trotted out past Tony, who was occupied with a few of the boarders and their demands. Once she was over the hill and out of sight, she dug her heels in, and the two of them took off like they’d been shot out of a cannon.
Chapter Three
That night, after tolerating supper with her half-drunk father, all-the-way-drunk mother, and surly brothers, Lindsay filled the claw-foot tub with bubbles and hot water and eased into it. She winced at various aches in her arms and shoulders from the week’s hard work with Daisy, her other horse, a much older and sweeter dressage prizewinner who’d won even more ribbons than Zelda.
But instead of relaxing her the way it normally did, the heat made her sweaty. Her skin felt irritated and itchy, and her thighs kept twitching from the long ride. Letting her fingers roam down her breasts and stomach, she allowed that when she touched herself between her legs—something she’d been doing for a few weeks now—the nice, shivery feeling it gave her did finally bring on the sort of relaxation she sought.
I am some kind of sick slut, she thought, floating and drifting until the water cooled and she had to get out. Sitting at her vanity table in nightgown and robe, she brushed her long, auburn hair, not even seeing the many blue rosettes she and her horses had won adorning the mirror. All she could see, or at least picture in her mind, was Tony and his deep brown eyes, watching her bare legs.
He had the fullest lips she’d ever seen, surrounded as she was by the British Isle types—red hair, fair skin, freckles, small noses, and thin, utilitarian lips. Tony’s were lush, almost pillowy. The few times she’d seen him smile, his dazzling white teeth were the perfect complement to them.
She touched her own lips, wondering how he tasted. She’d kissed a few boys, and had experienced mostly combinations of tobacco, minty toothpaste, and beer. The memory of Will shoving his tongue into her mouth after one of her mother’s dreary dinner parties made her frown.
She jumped up, angry all over again, and restless, wishing she could go to the barn. Parting the sheers between the heavy velvet drapes, she dropped into her window seat, drawing her knees up and staring down into the world she loved. The world where horses got all the attention, care, and love they needed.
The lamps were lit, and a small fire danced in the pit near the building where Tony, his brother, and the stable boys slept. She pressed her nose to the window, wanting to catch sight of him. When he did emerge from the main barn, he had that dumb straw in his mouth again. He was laughing at something his brother must have said. The two men were dragging along metal chairs from inside their makeshift dormitory, and bottles of beer. They sat, clinked, then drank.
Lindsay put her palm on the cool glass, watching them, knowing that even if they did look up they wouldn’t see her. Tony’s legs were sprawled out, one boot-clad foot up on the edge of the fire pit.
Lindsay found her gaze fixated on his zipper, wondering, and then flushing red at her own sick thoughts. For a split second, his eyes seemed to meet hers, but she shrank into the shadows of her second floor room, reminding herself there was no way he could see her. His eyes narrowed, and he put the beer bottle to those tempting, full lips, keeping his face turned up in the direction of her bedroom.
She cursed and jumped away from the window, yanking the heavy drapes closed. Gripping them tight, she hung on for dear life, pulse racing so fast it scared her. A knock at her door made her yelp in surprise.
“Come on in,” she said, hurrying to her vanity to resume the required hundred brush strokes. When she realized it was only Frank, she set the brush down. “What d’you want?”
He put a finger to his lips and held up two cigarettes. She pointed to her window seat. He nodded and cranked open one side of the casement before lighting up and giving her one. She sucked in the first lungful, relishing it, then blew it out the window.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling when Frank tugged her feet onto his lap.
“Daddy’s passed out on the recliner. Mama’s in the kitchen smoking and drinking and plotting world domination. JR’s on a date. I’m bored. So, how was dress shopping the other day?”
“Speaking of bored?” She rolled her eyes. “About as awful as you might imagine, complete with the Scott family women.”
Frank nodded and blew smoke out the window. “Those twins. They hit every dang branch fallin’ outta the ugly tree.”
“And his mama kept staring at my belly, as if I should be making an announcement already. Ugh.” Lindsay shivered when a brief memory of Will’s leering, sneering face passed through her mind.
“I’m sorry, sis,” he said. “It’s the only way Daddy can figure out to save this place.” He waved an arm indicating her gigantic bedroom with its expensive canopied bed and heavy furniture. “The Scotts are the only ones doing well, thanks to that Derby horse a few years ago.”
Lindsay sighed and let the tobacco and nicotine combination ease her stress. “Oh, I’ll be fine. Will’s okay. At least he’s not a stranger. I’ve known him my whole life.”
“He’s a cocky asshole, and if he hurts you, all you gotta do is come home, find me and JR, and tell us. We’ll remind him of his raising. Don’t you worry about that.”
She stared down at the fire pit, noting that the Love brothers had been joined by a couple of stable boys and a very attractive woman who, at that moment, was perched on Tony’s lap. Lindsay frowned and leaned almost all the way outside to see better. The woman was giggling and drinking a beer. Tony’s hand rested on her thigh. Way up her thigh.
To Lindsay’s horror, the woman leaned down and planted a kiss right on Tony’s lips, and for a damn long time. When Lorenzo tugged the woman to her feet, then danced around the fire with her, Lindsay watched Tony watching them. Their laughter floated up to her.
“Hey.” Frank bumped her shoulder.
“Ow,” she said, noting she’d smoked her cigarette to the butt without realizing it. “Here, take this out of here. Mama almost had kittens when she found that empty pack in my panty drawer.”
He looked out to see what she’d been watching, taking in the girl, the dancing Lorenzo, the music, the clapping and laughing group. “Huh, wonder if Daddy knows those boys brought in a whore.”
“A what?” Lindsay’s heartbeat picked up even faster.
He gave her an arch look. “I think I should get down there and inspect this little party.” He got up, palming their cigarette butts. “I’ve got a twenty. That should buy me a quickie.”
“Francis Halloran,” Lindsay said, shocked, but titillated beyond imagining. “You’ll catch a disease.” She’d heard this somewhere, but wasn’t quite sure how it worked.