The Black Sheep and the Hidden Beauty. Donna Kauffman

keep an eye out for his woman’s interests. Elena respected that, and she liked the guy.

      Finn Dalton owned the place, but you’d never know it. A bigger flirt she’d never met, but in that completely harmless way that made you laugh rather than feel awkward or threatened. He even chatted up the horses. But she’d also noted he knew everyone by name and made time as often as possible to talk with everyone from management to the part-time stall muckers. He was gone more often than not, but his presence on the property always livened things up and put everyone in a good mood.

      Which left Raphael Santiago, the enigmatic but reserved third partner in the other enterprise operated on Dalton Downs property, one that, had she known of its existence, might have kept her from pursuing the job opening here. Ultimately, she was glad she hadn’t, regardless of the heightened awareness it forced her to maintain. What she’d told Kenny was true. This was exactly the right place for her and Springer right now.

      At least, until now.

      “Lessons,” she repeated, knowing she sounded less than sharp, but he’d so completely taken her off guard, it was surprising she was stringing her words together coherently.

      “Lessons,” he replied.

      “So…I should be getting back on the road,” Kenny abruptly interjected. He put his beefy arm around her shoulder for a quick hug, which broke Elena’s fixed stare and gave her a merciful second or two to get a grip. Up close and personal, the final partner of the “unholy” Trinity, as she’d heard Kate jokingly refer to them, was…a lot. Of everything. Even his voice was a lot. Smooth, rich, with the barest hint of an accent. It was every bit as seductive as the rest of him, and no matter the reason for the attention, she, apparently, was far from immune to it. Horse sweat and barn muck be damned.

      She jerked her gaze off of him and, instead, found a smile for the man who had been her father’s closest friend, as she scrambled to regain her mental footing. “Thanks again for coming all the way out. I’ll call you next week to set up a checkup schedule for our girl.”

      Kenny held her gaze steadily with his own and she did her best to return it without faltering. The man didn’t miss much. Which bothered her as much as it reassured her. She needed him right now, more than he knew, but she couldn’t risk bringing him in any more than she already had. She already had too much to worry about as it was.

      “You do that,” he said. “She looks good, Lenie. You’re doing a fine job.” His gaze flickered sideways to encompass their guest, then returned to her. “You want to walk me out? Anything else we need to discuss?”

      She knew he was offering her an out if she felt she needed one. Did he feel the crackling intensity in the air, too? Or was he just protecting her in that general way men of his generation did? She shook her head, though she was thankful for his sensitivity. It felt odd, but in a good way, to have someone looking out for her for a change. It had been a very long time since anyone had. “I think we’re good. Unless you need an escort out, I—”

      He smiled, shook his head, and gave her one last hug. “I can find my way. You take care of business here.”

      “Thanks, Kenny.” She pressed a kiss to his fleshy cheek, not minding the scratch of white stubble there. It reminded her of her father.

      He nodded his good-bye to Rafe, who nodded in return, then headed out of the barn, back toward the main stable where his truck was parked. It wasn’t until he’d cleared the building, and she was left alone with all that was Rafe in the cool, dim interior of the stables, alone and away from, well, everyone, that she wished she’d considered Kenny’s escape offer a bit more thoroughly.

      Putting as professional a smile on her face as she could, even while damning herself for feeling, even for a moment, like a two-bit farmhand in the presence of all of his immaculate gorgeousness, she brazened it out. “Riding lessons. Did…Kate send you down?”

      “Kate? No,” he said, a flash of confusion crossing his handsome face. “I managed to find my way down here all by myself.” The hint of a smile, so unexpected, as she’d never seen so much as a glimmer of one on him before, was really just too much.

      She needed a fan. Or a good, stiff breeze. Or…something. Dear Lord. It was ridiculous, the impact he was having. Awareness overload. And yet, there didn’t seem to be much she could do about it. He was probably used to it.

      “Well…okay, then,” she managed, hating being so flustered. She’d worked with and around men her whole life and had managed never to come across as a brainless twit. “I—I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I work more with training the horses. Not so much with people. Perhaps one of Kate’s instructors—”

      “You’re very good,” he said, rather abruptly. “With the horses, I mean. I’ve watched you.”

      I know, she wanted to say. Boy, do I know. “Thank you. I love working with them, but it’s always nice to hear that from an outside source.”

      His gaze had shifted beyond her to the barn and stalls lining the aisles. “I’m about as outside a source as there is. I know nothing about horses.” Apparently realizing that might sound insulting, he added, “But even a rank amateur can see that you handle them very well.”

      He was making small talk. Which didn’t quite fit with the image she’d developed of him. It made her wonder what was really going on, why he’d suddenly approached her. For lessons, of all things. Her defenses finally shifted more firmly back into place. “They are complex and intriguing creatures.” As are you, she could have added, but didn’t. He might wear his clothes with an elegant nonchalance that exuded an unspoken confidence, but there was that raw edge to him that was far more wild mustang than refined thoroughbred. Complex creature, indeed. “But, even so, they’re easier to figure out than people.” She hadn’t meant to give voice to that last part and braced herself as he swung his gaze back to hers.

      “I’ll agree with you there,” he said, looking directly at her again. “People are easily the most complex creatures on the planet.”

      Her body tightened under his steady regard. Intense was an understatement with him. Even up close, his eyes were midnight black, with a laser-like intensity that bore into hers in a way she’d never encountered before. She’d definitely be wise never to underestimate him, in or out of his element.

      “No matter how long you know somebody, you never truly know it all,” he finished.

      “No,” she said, damning the tight note in her voice. Just as with the four-legged animals she trained, the first rule with any animal was show no fear. But the second rule was show no overt aggression. A delicate balance at times. So she let her gaze casually, or what she hoped was casually, drift out toward the surrounding paddock, breaking his visual hold on her. Or at least hers on him. “I don’t imagine you ever really do.” Something she fervently prayed held true for her where he, or anyone else at Dalton Downs, was concerned.

      And then it occurred to her…was that why he was out here? Had he, or someone here, managed to find out something more about her past? Wouldn’t Kate have confronted her directly, though? She wasn’t sure how the hierarchy worked here with Trinity and Kate’s separate enterprise, but Kate didn’t strike her as the type to let someone else handle her personal business, much less dictate her hiring practices.

      “But I came out here to talk to you about horses, not people.”

      She tried not to slump in relief. “I’ll be glad to help you in any way that I can.”

      She glanced at him in time to see him set his jaw a little. As if he wasn’t quite sure how to broach what he wanted to say next. Nerves? She wondered what on earth a man like him could have to be nervous about. Couldn’t be her. She was quite comfortable in her own skin, and made no apologies for her lack of feminine wiles, but she was also well aware that nerve-inducing she was not.

      “Good,” he said, then shifted his weight a little before continuing. “You can teach someone to ride, can’t you?”

      “I—I