Chapter 16
Mira
I didn’t see Blaine the day after the dinner party. From my room, I heard the front door shut just before midnight and assumed he’d gone out to do whatever it was he did when he was out.
But on Tuesday, just before noon, while I was resting on the bathroom floor after the morning’s final round of dry heaving, thanks to the persistent stomach bug I’d seemingly picked up, a heavy knock on my door announced his return.
I jolted, managing to knock my head against the sink as I scrambled to get up from the floor. He hadn’t knocked on my door since he’d brought me the truce-pizza our first night here, and a spurt of curiosity made its way through my general self-pity. Hopefully, he didn’t want me to put on another dinner party—one day of playing the perfect hostess and housewife to a crime lord was more than enough for me, thank you very much.
When I made it into my bedroom, Blaine was already standing by my bed, leafing through my copy of Sylvia Day’s newest book I’d abandoned on my pillow before rushing to the bathroom.
“Put that down.” I felt my cheeks flush at the thought of him coming across the sex scene I’d earmarked for later return.
To my mild astonishment, he obeyed without comment, throwing the book casually on my bedspread before he turned to look at me. As he did, his dark eyebrows pulled into a frown. “You sick?”
I took that to mean that I looked about as haggard as I felt. “Just a stomach bug.”
“Ah. Does that mean you’re too ill to go out for a few hours?”
I gaped at him as his words sank in. He wanted to take me outside. As sick as I felt, there was no way I’d pass up an opportunity to get out of the house. Besides, if the last few days were any indicator, I’d be feeling better within an hour or two anyway.
“Nuh-uh, I’m not letting you back out of our deal. Just give me a moment to get dressed. I take it you’re happy with how dinner went, then?”
“Yeah.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned up against my wardrobe. “You did good.”
So no mention of what I’d said about this Gerald trying to dupe him in some way, then. Ah well, that’d have to be his own problem—as long as I would get a bit more freedom going forward, I was happy.
“I’m glad. Now, where are we going? Is it a jeans or a dress thing?”
The touch of what could have been a genuine smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Jeans and trainers. We’re not going anywhere fancy I’m afraid, love.”
* * *
Blaine drove us out of London, where trees and farms slowly took over the cityscape. I rolled down the window of the Jaguar’s passenger side and breathed the fresh air in deeply. It was a rare, sunny November day, and despite still feeling a bit queasy, I couldn’t hold back a beaming smile. How long had it been since I spent any amount of time in the countryside? Even before being forced to marry Blaine, and thus getting stuck in that house, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been outside of the city.
“You look like a golden retriever.” Blaine’s amused voice made me pull my head back in, but even though I gave him a glare for good measure, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. I was sure he was pretty spot on, and I didn’t care.
“I haven’t been out of London in eons,” I sighed as I flopped back in my seat. “This is amazing. I wish we could do this every day.”
“Hmm,” he hummed noncommittally. I took that to mean I shouldn’t get too used to impromptu picnics and sighed with resignation. Perhaps, when I did manage to escape, I should find myself a village in the countryside somewhere and settle down for a while.
After we’d turned off the motorway and had driven along windy farm roads for a good twenty minutes, Blaine finally pulled up a long driveway that led to what looked like an equestrian farm. Horses nipped at the frozen ground behind wooden fences on both sides of the driveway.
“What are we doing here?” I asked. Even though I couldn’t fathom what business Blaine had to see to on a farm, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I’d loved horses with a fiery passion since I was a little girl, but hadn’t had much chance to be around them since I left Ireland. Hopefully, I’d be able to at least pet one before we left again.
“You’ll see.” Blaine looked extraordinarily smug, and I frowned as he got out of the car and headed toward the tweed-dressed, middle-aged woman approaching us from one of the stables. Whatever he had planned, I couldn’t so much as hazard a guess as to what it might be.
My curiosity piqued, and I hurried to undo my seatbelt and get out of the car. When I got to Blaine and the woman, he put his arm around my shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I froze at the unexpected touch, but if he noticed, he ignored it.
“Mrs. Wallace, this is my wife, Mira.”
Mrs. Wallace nodded at me, with a smile on her weathered face. “Pleased to meet you. You sure are one lucky girl, to have such a doting husband.”
I blinked, too stunned to form any words in response. Doting husband? Just what the heck was Blaine playing at? I narrowed my eyes and gave him a hard stare as Mrs. Wallace turned back to the driveway. Blaine just gave me a smirk and pointed in the direction Mrs. Wallace had turned.
“Oh look, perfect timing. Here they are now.”
I looked down the driveway and saw a horse transport slowly make its way up. A nervous knot formed in my stomach as I saw the large vehicle approach. He hadn’t. Surely, he hadn’t. There was no way Blaine would do something like that for me. No way at all.
When the vehicle stopped in the middle of the yard, its passenger gave a loud whinny from within. A couple of horses from the field answered it.
I did my best to shake the chills of excitement that ran down my back. “Blaine, what is this?” I said, my voice low to keep Mrs. Wallace and the driver, who had just jumped out and walked around to the back, from hearing me.
Blaine released his grip on my shoulders and shoved both hands into his jean pockets. His gaze was fixed on the horse transport in front of us, so I couldn’t decipher his expression, but his voice was calm and devoid of emotion when he said, “You warned me about Gerald. Turns out you were right.”
The driver flipped the ramp at the back end of the transport down, revealing the horse inside. It was a gorgeous, white gelding.
“It’s a Lipizzan. I’m told it’s got a fancy pedigree, but if it’s not the type you want, we can take it back and get another one,” Blaine said, as casually as if he’d gotten me a necklace.
I stared open-mouthed at the horse while Mrs. Wallace untied it and led it out of the box, stopping in front of us.
“What do you think, Mrs. Steel? He’s a handsome one, isn’t he?”
“Y-Yeah,” I croaked. “Gorgeous.”
“I’ll let you two get acquainted. The grooms have his box ready when you’re done looking him over. Just lead him to stable six, and we’ll get him settled in.” She handed me the rope and walked back toward the stables, and I was left staring dumbfounded at my very own horse.
“Is he… really for me?” I managed, without taking my eyes off the horse.
“Yeah, he’s yours,” Blaine confirmed. “Mrs. Wallace will be in charge of his daily care, but we should be able to get someone to drive you out here once a week or so.”
The anxious knot grew until it made my chest tight with emotion I couldn’t begin to name. Blaine Steel, the man I’d hated from first sight, the man who had made it perfectly clear he hated being forced to marry me as much as I did… had fulfilled one of my lifelong dreams. To say I was shaken to my core would have been an understatement.
“How did you know?” I whispered, not trusting my voice for anything louder. “How on earth did you know I’ve always wanted a horse of my own?”
“You said you wanted one as a kid. I assumed you likely still did, since you brought it up.”
With a start, I realized he was referring to the time he’d saved me from that group of thugs and walked me to the train station. That he had actually remembered a detail like that, and put it to use to… to what, reward me for being useful? I finally managed to tear my gaze from the horse to look over my shoulder at Blaine. He looked as calm and arrogant as ever as he stood with both hands down his front jeans pockets and the black leather coat zipped all the way up. But past the façade, there was more than just the bad boy mafia son. I wasn’t sure if I only just noticed it now, or—more likely—he finally let down one or two of the shields he usually kept up. Either way, I suddenly, and with a warm flood of confusing emotion I didn’t dare decipher, knew that the real Blaine was in there underneath all the swagger and smugness. And he might just be a man I’d like to get to know.
* * * *