Devil's Deception by Doreen Owens Malek Page A

any time soon,” he said dryly.
    Harry laughed. “You got that right. He needs his afternoon exercise. The boy should be along later to take him out. Dancer will settle down after that.”
    “I sincerely hope so,” Devlin replied, and Harry laughed again.
    “Relax,” the groom said. “We’ve got him at stud here, he’s not going to be tossing anybody. We just let him run, that’s what he likes to do. And a professional jockey Mr. Patria hired takes him out twice a week. That guy can control him.”
    “He sure is a beautiful animal,” Devlin said admiringly.
    “In looks, yeah,” Harry answered. “But too ornery to race. He’d be worth a lot more if we could run him professionally.”
    “A lot more than forty grand?” Devlin said.
    Harry glanced at Angela, who said, “I told him what Uncle Frank paid for Dancer.”
    Harry shrugged. “Yeah, he’d be worth more. Even now the stud fees will be well worth his price if we can breed him with gentle mares and get that meanness out of the line.”
    “Speaking of gentleness,” Devlin said, “we need a gentle horse for Angela to try sitting, anything that’s easily led and not too mouth shy.”
    Harry nodded, saying to Devlin, “You seem to know horseflesh. Do you ride?”
    “I used to. I think I remember enough to get Angela started.”
    “You won’t be needing me, then?” Harry asked.
    “No, just point us in the direction of your best- natured animal,” Devlin said.
    Harry gestured to a stall on the other side of the barn. “Blossom should do. She has the sweetest disposition of any horse here. She’s downright puppyish.”
    “That sounds about right,” Angela offered.
    The two men laughed. “Nervous?” Harry inquired.
    “Determined,” Angela replied. “I’ve been working up to this for twenty years.”
    “I wondered why you never rode,” Harry said.
    “Too gutless,” Angela responded, shrugging.
    “But not with your friend here?” Harry added archly, nodding at Devlin.
    That remark fell into a silence. Then Devlin said briskly, “Well, let’s get started. Where’s the tack room?”
    Harry showed Devlin the gear while Angela waited nervously, her nose twitching at the unmistakably pungent smell of hay and manure and warm animal flesh. Devlin returned minutes later, carrying a saddle and bridle.
    “Harry went back to the house,” he announced. “We can take as much time as we want. Harry just asked us to let him know when we’re through so he can lock up. I think he’s worried about old forty-G Dancer heading for the hills.”
    “So am I. Let’s make sure we bar the door when we leave.”
    Devlin hung the equipment on a nail and slipped the gate to Blossom’s stall, moving inside and talking softly to the horse. “Don’t worry,” he called to Angela, still petting Blossom. “I’m very careful about locking the barn door before the horse has flown.”
    Angela was pondering the significance of that remark when Devlin slipped a rope halter over Blossom’s head and led her out of the stall. “She’s a doll, this one,” he said, smiling and patting Blossom’s velvety flank. “She’s in love with me already.”
    She’s not the only one, Angela thought dryly. She watched as Devlin romanced the horse, walking her around and letting her get used to him.
    “Open the door,” he said to Angela. “I’m going to try her out and make sure she has no quirks before I put you on her.”
    “Sounds good to me,” Angela replied, standing aside as man and horse went past her into the yard.
    “Close it,” Devlin instructed.
    Angela obeyed, watching in wonderment as Devlin braced his feet and then flung himself on the back of the horse. Blossom danced a little, and then stood still.
    “Good girl,” Devlin crooned, bending forward to talk into Blossom’s ear. He ran his hands over her neck, gentling her.
    “You ride bareback?” Angela asked.
    “That’s how I learned,” he replied, kicking Blossom’s sides with his sneakered