Leaping Hearts by J.R. Ward Page A

he really didn’t have to remind her he was half-naked. “But I—”
    “I’m not going to train you. Now, go back to Sutherland Stables and resume the high life. I need to get some sleep.”
    He turned to go.
    “I can’t.”
    Her soft words stopped him and he looked back at her. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
    “I’m no longer affiliated with Sutherland Stables.”
    His brows came down over those hazel eyes. “You renounce your birthright or something?”
    “Essentially.”
    “Why would you do that?”
    “Let’s just say management and I had a falling-out.”
    “Over Sabbath.”
    “Looks like he and I are both orphans now.”
    He let out a frustrated breath. “And where do you think I fit in? I’m not exactly the Mother Superior type. I don’t run a safe haven for wayward children and their pets.”
    “But I need a place to train and board him.”
    “I’m not a trainer and I don’t board.”
    “I can pay you.”
    A.J. wasn’t sure with what, but now wasn’t the time to get bogged down in particulars.
    “I don’t doubt that,” he said wryly.
    “Look, at least let him stay the night.”
    “That animal is still in the trailer?”
    “Yes, but—”
    “Are you out of your mind?”
    “I didn’t plan for this to happen.”
    “That’s obvious,” he said, turning away. “I’ll bet you don’t plan for much.”
    “That’s not true!”
    At least broadly, A.J. thought, deciding that the night hadn’t exactly been a masterpiece of rational thinking.
    “Where are you going?” she called out.
    “I’m not interested in the little drama between you and your family,” he said over his shoulder. “But I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand by and have an animal pay the price for human theatrics.”
    He disappeared into the house, leaving A.J. speechless on the front stoop. Numbly, she noted that the back of him looked as good as the front did.
    She wanted to argue with him. However her actions might appear, she would never compromise a horse’s safety or security, but she didn’t feel as if she could afford the luxury of explaining herself. It appeared as if Sabbath had a stall for the night and she wasn’t going to put that in jeopardy just because she’d been misjudged.
    Instead of waiting for him, she smothered a yawn and went back to the barn, wondering where she would spend the night. It certainly wasn’t going to be at the mansion. Approaching the trailer, she regarded the cab with a jaundiced eye, deciding that the space was probably roomy enough for her to stretch out. It wasn’t glamorous but at least she’d be horizontal.
    Moving with the practiced coordination of someone who’d done it countless times, A.J. put down the ramp, freed Sabbath’s lead and backed him out of the trailer. He seemedperfectly content to have her take his head and she walked him around to stretch his legs as she waited for McCloud. The stallion was lipping at the ground happily when the man emerged from the house.
    As he approached, she felt a stir go through her. It was hot and urgent, like a flash of lightning, and it seemed to her as if her body were communicating in some secret language with his. While she pushed the sensation away and focused on the lead line in her hands, she wondered if he felt it, too.
    Silently, he went past her and unlocked the double doors of the stable. They slid back soundlessly on well-oiled runners and he reached in and flipped on the lights. Peeking inside, she saw six generous stalls, three on each side, separated by a spacious aisle. To the left, she could see the tack room, and to the right, a small office. The place was immaculate and had everything a horse and rider would need, but the moment she led Sabbath inside, she noticed something was wrong.
    The silence of the place was overwhelming. All of the chatty background noise she was used to hearing around horses was absent. There were no stomping of hooves, no welcoming whinnies of curiosity, no sound of