Hot Revenge Box Set 2

James nods acknowledgement. “Yes, it needs care. But I'll go with her every time. And Eleanor sent a side-saddle for Charlotte to use for a while, until she's back in shape again.”

Charlotte turns a puzzled frown on him. “You’ll come with me? But…”

“Go inside.” Michael nods her indoors. “You’ve not seen it all yet.”

Charlotte unbolts the lower half of the door, clicking her tongue. “Back-up, Charlie.” The bay-roan mare reverses, letting everyone through, but shoves her nose firmly against Charlotte’s chest.

And there, at the back of the stable, up to his knees in clean straw, is another horse, a white gelding; much bigger than Charlie, heavily-built, but with a mild eye and manner. He snickers as we enter, his ears pricking forward.

Charlotte blinks.

James produces a carrot, then another, passing one to Charlotte. His own he offers to the gelding. “Meet Oliver. He’s Charlie’s son. He’s here to keep Charlie company and for me to ride with you.” Charlotte’s jaw drops.

There is something about seeing joy in another person. It’s infectious. It rubs off. Next to me, Ryan is smiling broadly.

Richard is positively beaming. “By the way, Charlotte, your Christmas gift from me and Elizabeth is the saddle and tack…”

She throws herself at him, streaming tears. Richard wraps arms around her, patting her back. He kisses her cheek. “Happy Christmas, Charlotte. You deserve it.”

Ryan, standing close behind me, winds an arm around my waist, pulling me in close, then slips his gloved hand into mine. His cheek resting by mine, he murmurs, “So Charlotte has her white horse then?”

For a moment I don’t understand him, then I remember…

That conversation we had, the very first night we met.

“So, no dreams of white horses then?”

“White horses?”

armour, come to carry you off for happily-ever-afters in some faraway

I laugh. “Not me.”

white charger, come to carry me away.

and joyful…

clarity,

to face Ryan. His forehead wrinkles as I hook arms up around his neck, reaching for his lips with mine. I kiss

release stiff fingers, I grope into my pocket, seeking what I

at it in my palm: a

me, with everything else that

seems not to be breathing. His fingertips

onto my left hand, fourth finger.

his smile spreading wide

“I will.”

voice. I turn to see him punching the air.

nickered protest. She runs to me,

and James both stride forward, arms outstretched, competing to be the first

he says in a quiet

“What about you?”

quirk. “Oh, I’m

back

*****

greets the news with the same enthusiasm as everyone else, giving me a squeeze and a kiss

at Richard’s hand when he tries to stop her. “I can stand,” she mutters.

“Coming right up.”

surrounded by, almost immersed in, joyous