Chapter One
Skyler Reese poured some glistening oil into her palm and rubbed her hands together to warm the lubricant. She smiled as she began a loving massage.
Her long fingers danced softly over the gentle curves of the shoulders and stroked the perfect arch of the backbone. She was mesmerized by her sure, strong hands as she watched them in the dim light, dipping into the cup of oil at her side, then moving over the supple, tanned surface. They were the hands of a sculptor, smoothing and shaping a classic form.
Dip, stroke.
Her fingertips moved quickly to catch the excess liquid as it dripped down smooth flanks, gently spreading the droplets until they were absorbed.
Dip, stroke, stroke.
The object of her attentions yielded and grew warmer, more pliant under each brush of her fingers. The musky aroma coaxed forth by her touch filled the small room. The rhythm of her movements and the rich scent filling her senses brought calm to her restless soul. Skyler sighed and closed her eyes, reveling in the elusive peace that settled over her.
“I sure wish that was me you were rubbing oil all over.”
The low, silky voice came from the doorway behind her, but Skyler didn’t pause in her task. She’d heard the scuff of boots against the hard-packed clay of the Creek Barn’s hallway before the curvaceous redhead appeared in the tack room. She could feel Alexandra Rourke’s cool, hazel eyes moving over her, visually tasting. The bored socialite took in the dove gray riding breeches that hugged her long, lean thighs before disappearing into dusty, knee-high riding boots. The cool stare then lifted to sun-streaked locks that fell over Skyler’s forehead. She kept her hair in a short, practical cut layered against her neck. The look was boyishly sexy, and she was used to second glances from women, and some men.
Alexandra sauntered forward, moving purposefully into her field of vision. She leaned against the wall, folding her arms across her ribs in a way that called attention to her ample breasts. The flirting had slowly escalated in recent weeks from small hints to blatant propositions. Skyler continued to work the leather of the jump saddle secured to a metal stand in front of her. Cleaning and oiling the saddles and bridles in her barn was her time for thinking. The wall full of soft, gleaming leather in front of her was a testament to many hours of reflection. That is, when she felt like thinking. Sometimes she just felt like polishing and not thinking at all. That’s why the saddles in Creek Barn were the softest of any on the farm; she kept them well oiled after they were cleaned with saddle soap.
“What can I do for you?” she asked when her visitor showed no sign of leaving her to enjoy her solitude. “Isn’t Clint keeping you busy enough?”
Alexandra pursed her lips in a practiced pout few men seemed able to resist. Perhaps she expected to wield the same power over a lesbian horse trainer. “That’s why I came to see you,” she purred. “Some trollop at Edward’s law firm met Clint at a party and has been gossiping around the office about what a stud he is. Now, my idiot husband is insisting that I change trainers.”
Skyler chuckled. Clint Hansen was the trainer at Cherokee Falls’ West Barn and a good friend. “Well, he is a pretty fine specimen.” She shrugged one broad shoulder upward to wipe the sweat that trickled past her temple onto the sleeve of her dark blue polo shirt. “So, did Eddie catch you getting more than a riding lesson?”
“Don’t be crude, Skyler Reese. Of course not,” Alexandra replied with an irritated toss of her shoulder-length curls.
Her pretense at indignation was wasted on Skyler. “Not that you haven’t tried, I’m sure. You must be slipping, Alex. I’ve never known you to fail to snag whatever man you set your sights on.”
Alexandra scowled. “Seems he has some rule about not touching married women.”
That particular restriction wasn’t in Skyler’s rulebook. She looked up from her task and arched a “do tell” eyebrow.
Alexandra’s pout slowly turned to a smirk. “But I know he wanted to,” she purred. “There’s always that certain part of the male anatomy that doesn’t lie. I’ve had fun torturing him.”
Skyler rolled her eyes. “That’s my friend you’ve been torturing,” she warned as she dipped her fingers in the oil again and continued rubbing it into the leather.