can only assume you wanted my attention. You didn’t have to steal my valuable horse in order to get that—if you wanted to be kissed all you had to do was ask.’
She looked at him with simmering dislike. ‘Not in this life!’ she pronounced with an emphatic shake of her head. She swallowed and pressed a hand to her mouth.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’m feeling a bit nauseous,’ she admitted, thinking about Ramon’s abrupt departure and wondering if the two could be connected … They had shared that smoked salmon sandwich …?
‘Let me look in your eyes,’ he said, taking her chin in his fingers.
‘I don’t have a head injury.’
His fingers fell away. ‘Do you remember what happened?’
‘Of course I remember what happened—I came off.’
‘Got thrown.’
‘All right, got thrown,’ she gritted, thinking,
Go on, rub it in why don’t you?
‘That’s why I lost control when he got spooked by that little pig.’ Actually it had been quite a large pig.
To hear one of the dangerous wild boar that lived in the woods dismissed with a disgusted grimace made him blink.
‘I’m a good rider. I’ve been riding all my life.’
‘And have you been falling off all your life?’
Struggling to combat the rising nausea, Lucy wiped the rash of damp off her forehead, managing to lift her head and fix him with a glare. ‘I suppose you have never fallen off.’ She pressed her hand to her mouth and thought,
Please do not let me throw up in front of him
.
The annoyance died from Santiago’s face as he studied her pale features. ‘You look terrible.’
And she felt terrible.
‘Do you feel faint?’
At that moment she would have accepted a graceful, aesthetically pleasing swoon, but it wasn’t an option. ‘No, I don’t feel faint, I feel …’ She clapped a hand to her mouth, jumped to her feet and sprinted across the clearing. A few yards away she fell to her knees.
‘You all right?’
She shrugged off the hand on her shoulder and got to her feet, unable to meet his eyes. ‘Obviously I’m not all right.’ The nausea was much easier to cope with than the humiliation of the situation … God, she wanted to die; he had actually held her hair away from her face!
Santiago was the very last person in the world she would have expected a display of such thoughtfulness from, or, for that matter, expected to possess such a strong stomach.
‘Did you hit your head … lose consciousness?’ Her creamy complexion was tinged with a greenish hue and she wasvisibly swaying like a young sapling in a breeze … Sheer bloody-minded stubbornness, he suspected, was the only thing keeping her upright.
‘No, I … I was already …’ Losing track of her rebuttal, her voice faded to a whisper as her eyes half closed.
Convinced now he was dealing with a concussion at the very least, Santiago was moving in to catch her when she opened her eyes, directing her wide-eyed cerulean stare directly at his face.
‘It wasn’t the fall. I’ve been feeling … off most of the morning.’ Her brow furrowed; it was hard in retrospect to recall when it had started. Post smoked salmon, definitely.
The confession sparked his dormant anger into life. ‘Of all the selfish … stupid …!’ he blasted. ‘So let me get this right—not only did you steal a horse you could not handle simply to thumb your nose at me, you did so while unwell.’
Lucy, who had been on the point of offering a shamed apology, lost all urge to admit she’d been wrong.
‘I didn’t know I was going to be sick …’ Wincing at the unattractive whiney note in her voice, Lucy reached for the scarf she had wound around her neck that morning, intending to tie back her hair with it, and found it was gone …
‘What is it now?’ He watched cautiously as she bit her quivering lip and hoped she was not about to start throwing up again, though he conceded it was preferable to tears.
It was bizarre. He had always considered himself an even-tempered man,
She looked at him with simmering dislike. ‘Not in this life!’ she pronounced with an emphatic shake of her head. She swallowed and pressed a hand to her mouth.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’m feeling a bit nauseous,’ she admitted, thinking about Ramon’s abrupt departure and wondering if the two could be connected … They had shared that smoked salmon sandwich …?
‘Let me look in your eyes,’ he said, taking her chin in his fingers.
‘I don’t have a head injury.’
His fingers fell away. ‘Do you remember what happened?’
‘Of course I remember what happened—I came off.’
‘Got thrown.’
‘All right, got thrown,’ she gritted, thinking,
Go on, rub it in why don’t you?
‘That’s why I lost control when he got spooked by that little pig.’ Actually it had been quite a large pig.
To hear one of the dangerous wild boar that lived in the woods dismissed with a disgusted grimace made him blink.
‘I’m a good rider. I’ve been riding all my life.’
‘And have you been falling off all your life?’
Struggling to combat the rising nausea, Lucy wiped the rash of damp off her forehead, managing to lift her head and fix him with a glare. ‘I suppose you have never fallen off.’ She pressed her hand to her mouth and thought,
Please do not let me throw up in front of him
.
The annoyance died from Santiago’s face as he studied her pale features. ‘You look terrible.’
And she felt terrible.
‘Do you feel faint?’
At that moment she would have accepted a graceful, aesthetically pleasing swoon, but it wasn’t an option. ‘No, I don’t feel faint, I feel …’ She clapped a hand to her mouth, jumped to her feet and sprinted across the clearing. A few yards away she fell to her knees.
‘You all right?’
She shrugged off the hand on her shoulder and got to her feet, unable to meet his eyes. ‘Obviously I’m not all right.’ The nausea was much easier to cope with than the humiliation of the situation … God, she wanted to die; he had actually held her hair away from her face!
Santiago was the very last person in the world she would have expected a display of such thoughtfulness from, or, for that matter, expected to possess such a strong stomach.
‘Did you hit your head … lose consciousness?’ Her creamy complexion was tinged with a greenish hue and she wasvisibly swaying like a young sapling in a breeze … Sheer bloody-minded stubbornness, he suspected, was the only thing keeping her upright.
‘No, I … I was already …’ Losing track of her rebuttal, her voice faded to a whisper as her eyes half closed.
Convinced now he was dealing with a concussion at the very least, Santiago was moving in to catch her when she opened her eyes, directing her wide-eyed cerulean stare directly at his face.
‘It wasn’t the fall. I’ve been feeling … off most of the morning.’ Her brow furrowed; it was hard in retrospect to recall when it had started. Post smoked salmon, definitely.
The confession sparked his dormant anger into life. ‘Of all the selfish … stupid …!’ he blasted. ‘So let me get this right—not only did you steal a horse you could not handle simply to thumb your nose at me, you did so while unwell.’
Lucy, who had been on the point of offering a shamed apology, lost all urge to admit she’d been wrong.
‘I didn’t know I was going to be sick …’ Wincing at the unattractive whiney note in her voice, Lucy reached for the scarf she had wound around her neck that morning, intending to tie back her hair with it, and found it was gone …
‘What is it now?’ He watched cautiously as she bit her quivering lip and hoped she was not about to start throwing up again, though he conceded it was preferable to tears.
It was bizarre. He had always considered himself an even-tempered man,
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