Hawke, her nemesis, sat tall and proud on his superb stallion, his piercing eyes flicking from Camille to the dog with an air of indisputable authority. Through Hawke’s eyes, she imagined how she must look: disheveled, covered in mud, soaked to the bone.
The stallion, a buckskin American Quarter Horse with a glossy, dark mane and tail, starkly contrasted her bedraggled appearance. The horse’s tan coat gleamed under the relentless rain, muscles rippling with restrained power. The stallion was part of a prestigious string of horses from the JR Rocking Horse Ranch in Montana, owned by Hawke, and renowned for breeding prize-winning American Quarter Horses for cutting and barrel racing competitions.
Despite the chill from the rain and her simmering frustration, Camille refused to show any sign of weakness. Hawke being at the resort was just another challenge to overcome. “I heard you arrived this morning and are staying until this Sunday,” she remarked. “Our extended families will check in at the resort by Friday night and will all celebrate Ondine and Trent’s engagement party this Saturday. I understand that you brought a few mares from Montana in addition to your stallion,” she said, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible.
“The Rancho Mission Viejo Rodeo officials reached out to me to showcase the stallion’s abilities in an exhibition at the start of the rodeo this Sunday,” he replied. “He is a prize-winning cutting horse. Two of my best barrel racing trainers will exhibit the mares. I also brought a small herd of cattle to stage my stallion’s talents but they remained at the rodeo grounds. The horses are at El Ocaso.”
“Why didn’t you stable your horses at the rodeo grounds in San Juan Capistrano instead of El Ocaso? You must travel twenty miles instead of already being on-site.”
“Trying to get rid of me, already?”
“Yes. Stabling your horses at the rodeo’s grounds makes more sense,” she retorted snappily.
He ignored her comment, eyes narrowing. “Are you hurt?”
“No, but the dog might be,” she reluctantly admitted between clenched teeth. She hated that he had to be the one to rescue them. After their volatile encounter in the stable earlier today, she was in all likelihood his least favorite person.
“Is he your dog?” he asked.
“Yes, well…now he is. When he crossed the road a few minutes ago, he wasn’t.”
“Your car isn’t going anywhere. You need to move to higher ground. Can you reach the cabin on foot?”
“Maybe, but I’m not leaving him here. He comes with me. I must retrieve my satchel from the car,” she explained crossly as her teeth began to chatter.
“Hurry, we need to go now. The rain is not letting up.” His tone was firm, but a hint of softness was in his eyes as he looked at Camille, soaked and shivering yet standing her ground.
She glared and grumbled angrily, “Would it be too much to ask you to get down from your horse and hold the dog so I can access my car?”
He dismounted, reaching for the dog in her arms.
His hands brushed her chest as she awkwardly passed the dog to him. She felt a shiver as if he had touched her breasts. She gasped and turned away, hoping he hadn’t noticed her reaction. Her mind raced with conflicting emotions—anger at his arrogance, gratitude for his help, and a confusing spark of attraction she couldn’t quite ignore.
Quickly, she opened the car door and grabbed her satchel. She slung the strap over her shoulder and turned back to pick up the dog. “Are you walking with us to the cabin?”
“Forget walking. We’re riding. Get on the horse. I’ll hand you the dog and mount behind you. We are wet and cold. It’s time to move quickly to reach the cabin. It will be at least another fifteen minutes before we reach it. It’ll be dark soon,” he ordered her with a tone that brooked no argument.
“It won’t work,” she protested, barely audible.
“Get on,” he commanded.
She struggled to get up on the huge horse, which skittered slightly as she made a complete fool of herself. Her muddy foot slipped repeatedly in the stirrup, and the satchel banged against the horse. She felt a surge of irritation. “What the heck? Get your hand off my derriere, you maniac.” She shrieked, feeling his steadying grip.
“Next time, move faster,” he replied calmly. Before passing her the shivering dog, which nestled with a whimper into her arms, he slung the satchel across his body and mounted behind her. With a steadying hand, Hawke calmed his horse and urged him into a trot, the slick road too treacherous for anything faster.
The relentless rain muffled their voices, making conversation nearly impossible.
As they headed uphill, the stallion stumbled slightly.
Hawke hooked his arm around her waist, his strong forearm pulling her tightly against him.
She felt the warmth of his body against her back. His breath against her ear caused a tingling sensation down her spine. The intimate contact flustered her, stirring conflicting emotions she struggled to suppress. Despite her best efforts to focus on anything but the close connection, she was aware of his broad, muscular frame.
They were incompatible. She knew his philandering reputation; yet, she still missed their early friendship before she overheard his comments about Ondine. She couldn’t deny he was an amazing male specimen, but acknowledging it only deepened her anguish. Hawke was a successful, strong, confident leader whom women constantly pursued. She understood his wealth made him a target, which made him wary.
Finally, they reached the cabin as darkness settled in, casting deep shadows. Camille glared over her shoulder, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. “I don’t need help to get down.” After waiting for him to dismount, she followed suit, her movements stiff with defiance. Cradling the dog in her arms, she disappeared into the cabin while Hawke tended to his horse in the lean-to beside it. Even though the cabin was quite rustic, the spacious and sturdy lean-to was a recent addition. The horse would be protected from the rain and the wind in his stall, already stocked with plenty of water and hay.
Camille watched as Hawke re-entered the cabin. The door creaked, breaking the silence between them. They stood there, gazes locked, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. Her heart pounded, anticipation and uncertainty coursing through her as they faced each other. She could sense the storm of emotions hidden beneath Hawke’s calm exterior. He respected her tenacity and fiery spirit, even if it frustrated him.
Finally, Camille broke the silence and admitted reluctantly. “I truly appreciate you appearing on the road when you did.”
Hawke held her gaze. “No, Camille, I’m the grateful one. You didn’t have to agree to share this cabin with me, especially with everything between us. I prefer my horses to remain with me away from the hustle and bustle of the rodeo grounds. My trainers and stablehands like El Ocaso for security purposes where they can watch them. My own stallion, usually mellow, demands a place away from the stables currently housing a mare in heat and another stallion. This cabin offers the peace and quiet he needs —- and, if I’m honest, so do I.”
Camille nodded, her defenses wavering as she replied, “I understand. And with the resort fully booked, it does make sense. We’ve known each other for so long, and with our families about to become even closer, I don’t mind you staying here with me. But it’s going to be rustic — unusually cold tonight.”
“We can deal with that later. Let’s get to the emergency veterinarian in town,” his voice firm, already moving to the door with determined resolve. “I parked my Land Rover behind the cabin earlier today. We’ll reach town without any trouble.”
Camille hesitated, “Thank you. I am unsure if the emergency vet will treat him as I don’t have the funds right now. I will request an advance on my stipend tomorrow, but it’s too late today.”
Hawke insisted, his tone gentle but unyielding. “Camille, put your pride aside. Even in war, there’s room for a ceasefire. Let’s do what’s right for the dog. And besides, I might enjoy having you a little beholden to me. How about this — I’ll be the half-owner of the dog. Joint custody. That way, you won’t be able to avoid me, and we’ll have to talk things out instead of holding onto this animosity. Let’s go.” He turned, taking the dog in his arms and heading to the car without checking whether she was following.
Camille stood frozen for a moment, watching him, her heart caught between gratitude and something deeper, before she followed into the night. After this afternoon’s debacle in the barn, why had he kissed her instead of dragging her to Henri’s office for a reprimand or worse? The memory of his kiss lingered; her lips still tingled from the unexpected sweetness. She suspected he had surprised himself as much as he had her.
She took a deep breath, her thoughts swirling. The afternoon confrontation still played in her mind, leaving her both confused and intrigued by his sudden change in demeanor. From a dominant male ordering her about to someone who now showed a warm, almost friendly, demeanor. The tension between them was undeniable, but so was the pull that neither of them could ignore.