he’s improved the formula since then.”
“I doubt it. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
They walked past the stables and went to lean against the wooden post-and-rail fence enclosing the east field where the children’s riding lessons were taking place.
“Those horses.” Jake nodded towards the five horses out in the field. “Do they belong to Barrowdene?”
Molly watched the well-behaved animals trotting one after the other, their little riders sitting proud on their backs. “No, they belong to the riding school, but the school has rented the stables and east field for as long as I can remember. I suppose they’re a part of Barrowdene in that way. It wouldn’t be the same here without them.”
He looked at her. “Do you ride, Molly?”
“It’s been a while,” she said with a shrug. “I fell off a horse when I was eleven. Nothing hurt except my pride and backside, but I flat refused to get on one again after that. Now, I just like coming here to watch them.”
“I prefer motorbikes, myself.” His eyes twinkled. “I think you might like that more than horses.”
She looked away, heat stinging her cheeks as a sudden vision of herself on the back of his bike sprung to her mind. But in her version, she didn’t look anywhere near as sexy as his girlfriend had.
His girlfriend. She’d do well to remember that little detail.
She shot him a cool look. “I don’t think so. I’m not very adventurous.”
“I think you haven’t given yourself a chance,” he said softly. “You’ll like it when you try it.”
It was nigh on impossible to ignore the fluttering inside her when he was so close, and with a quick glance at her watch she pushed away from the fence. “Isn’t Francine expecting you for dinner? Maybe we should be heading back.”
That bike ride wasn’t going to happen in this lifetime, and definitely not with him.
He merely smiled and fell into step beside her as they walked back the way they’d come.
She shot him a covert glance. “Um… What are your plans for Barrowdene?”
“It used to be a proper family home, didn’t it? That’s what your grandmother told me.”
“She did?”
“Yes. I want to keep it as a family home, but modernized.”
How modern was modern? Was Martin right about him? She pursed her lips. “But why Barrowdene? I heard you work mainly in cities. This seems out of the way for you.”
“And what else have you heard about me, Molly?” he murmured.
Hot blood rushed to her face again and she ducked her head. “I… nothing.”
But his steady gaze pinned her. “I dislike being at a disadvantage. I’d like to know as much about you, if not more.”
“There’s not much left to know,” she mumbled, looking away. He already knew way more about her than she liked. Why had she told him so much?
After a moment’s pause, he spoke. “I needed a change, and I seem to have found it. This is different and I want to see what I can do with it.”
She glanced back at him and he was watching her like a cat watches a mouse. “Yes, Barrowdene is different.”
He laughed, amusement replacing the intensity in his gaze. “So, tell me about the house, Molly, since I now have it on good authority you know more about it than anyone else.”
She willed the heat in her cheeks to subside, knowing she looked like a ripe tomato. Was he mocking her? But his expression revealed nothing. Well, why not seize the opportunity and talk up Barrowdene’s case anyway.
“I know it hasn’t been updated, but Barrowdene is rare. It still has so many of its original Georgian features. You must have seen the beautiful fireplaces in the rooms, the panelling, the wood floors. Much of the furniture is also original, hand-made. You won’t find many other houses like this.”
But he didn’t look impressed. “The structure is sound, but it would hardly suit a family in its current state. The larger bedrooms need en-suites, the kitchen needs an overhaul, and though
“I doubt it. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
They walked past the stables and went to lean against the wooden post-and-rail fence enclosing the east field where the children’s riding lessons were taking place.
“Those horses.” Jake nodded towards the five horses out in the field. “Do they belong to Barrowdene?”
Molly watched the well-behaved animals trotting one after the other, their little riders sitting proud on their backs. “No, they belong to the riding school, but the school has rented the stables and east field for as long as I can remember. I suppose they’re a part of Barrowdene in that way. It wouldn’t be the same here without them.”
He looked at her. “Do you ride, Molly?”
“It’s been a while,” she said with a shrug. “I fell off a horse when I was eleven. Nothing hurt except my pride and backside, but I flat refused to get on one again after that. Now, I just like coming here to watch them.”
“I prefer motorbikes, myself.” His eyes twinkled. “I think you might like that more than horses.”
She looked away, heat stinging her cheeks as a sudden vision of herself on the back of his bike sprung to her mind. But in her version, she didn’t look anywhere near as sexy as his girlfriend had.
His girlfriend. She’d do well to remember that little detail.
She shot him a cool look. “I don’t think so. I’m not very adventurous.”
“I think you haven’t given yourself a chance,” he said softly. “You’ll like it when you try it.”
It was nigh on impossible to ignore the fluttering inside her when he was so close, and with a quick glance at her watch she pushed away from the fence. “Isn’t Francine expecting you for dinner? Maybe we should be heading back.”
That bike ride wasn’t going to happen in this lifetime, and definitely not with him.
He merely smiled and fell into step beside her as they walked back the way they’d come.
She shot him a covert glance. “Um… What are your plans for Barrowdene?”
“It used to be a proper family home, didn’t it? That’s what your grandmother told me.”
“She did?”
“Yes. I want to keep it as a family home, but modernized.”
How modern was modern? Was Martin right about him? She pursed her lips. “But why Barrowdene? I heard you work mainly in cities. This seems out of the way for you.”
“And what else have you heard about me, Molly?” he murmured.
Hot blood rushed to her face again and she ducked her head. “I… nothing.”
But his steady gaze pinned her. “I dislike being at a disadvantage. I’d like to know as much about you, if not more.”
“There’s not much left to know,” she mumbled, looking away. He already knew way more about her than she liked. Why had she told him so much?
After a moment’s pause, he spoke. “I needed a change, and I seem to have found it. This is different and I want to see what I can do with it.”
She glanced back at him and he was watching her like a cat watches a mouse. “Yes, Barrowdene is different.”
He laughed, amusement replacing the intensity in his gaze. “So, tell me about the house, Molly, since I now have it on good authority you know more about it than anyone else.”
She willed the heat in her cheeks to subside, knowing she looked like a ripe tomato. Was he mocking her? But his expression revealed nothing. Well, why not seize the opportunity and talk up Barrowdene’s case anyway.
“I know it hasn’t been updated, but Barrowdene is rare. It still has so many of its original Georgian features. You must have seen the beautiful fireplaces in the rooms, the panelling, the wood floors. Much of the furniture is also original, hand-made. You won’t find many other houses like this.”
But he didn’t look impressed. “The structure is sound, but it would hardly suit a family in its current state. The larger bedrooms need en-suites, the kitchen needs an overhaul, and though
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