Nights in White Satin: A Loveswept Classic Romance by Linda Cajio Page A

the eight-year-old boys cling to the backs of their small sleek mounts in a miniature version of a Dick Francis race. The ponies were spaced far enough away from each other on the wide meadow to keep mishaps to a minimum. She wished she were as far away from Rick. Instead, she was pressed against his side by the crowd watching the race. His hand rested lightly at the small of her back. She tried to ignore it and concentrate on rooting for the little boy in the black and yellow colors, currently out in front. He was Thorn, the son of one of Rick’s tenant farmers. But Rick’s hand was burning through her linen shirtwaist.
    Two other ponies passed Thorn, and he came in third.
    “The lad’ll be ticked,” Rick said. “He knows he pushed Magnus too much at the start, and the pony runs out of energy before the finish every time. Ah well, I suppose I better go cheer him up. You’ll be okay?”
    She nodded, then nearly gasped out loud when his hand ran up and down the length of her spine in clear possession, before he ducked under the sideline rope.
    She watched him walk over to the dejected boy and bend low to say something. Although the boy’s parents hovered, too, it was clear youngThom was brightening at Rick’s words. Thom had a case of hero worship.
    Jill knew how the boy felt. This was a scene she could have done without seeing. She was having enough trouble controlling her lust without additional evidence Rick was a kind man too. Dammit, she thought. She already knew it. It would be so easy to fall for him. And so wrong.
    The Jill Daneforth version of Murphy’s Law was working overtime. Leave it to her to be extremely attracted to the man who would stop her on her quest. Indiana Jones didn’t have this many obstacles when he went after the Ark.
    With the race over, the older girls were readying their mounts for the dressage event. Several surrounding villages had turned out for the Children’s Pony Gymkhana. The local children were putting their pets through their paces in the varying events and displaying their own riding prowess. It was being held at Devil’s Hall, Rick evidently this year’s sponsor. Another “nice-guy-ism” if she ever saw one.
    “He’s a nice man, is Mr. Kitteridge,” one of the elderly men next to her said.
    Just what she needed: confirmation. She forced herself to smile. “Yes, I’m sure he is.”
    “You’re the lady who’s visitin’ him.”
    “With his grandmother,” she added firmly.
    “Oh, aye.” The man nodded. “Very kindly, she is too.”
    Jill hid a smile of amusement. Clearly the man didn’t know Lettice. She had to admit she was enjoying the gymkhana. Who wouldn’t be? She had a weakness for children and pets. Still, she ought to be watching for her adversary. Shehadn’t seen a sign of Colonel Fitchworth-Leeds yet, but she had to admit she wasn’t always paying much attention. Her mind and body kept focusing on Rick. Still, it was becoming frustrating not to see the Colonel at any of the local events or places.
    “Excuse me,” she said to the older man. “Do you know a Colonel Fitchworth-Leeds?”
    The man shook his head. “No, can’t say as I do. Never heard of any Fitchworth or any Leeds around these parts, and I’ve lived here all my life.”
    “Well, thanks anyway.”
    Don’t be too disappointed, she told herself. But it was hard. She had weathered several setbacks, come up with a plan, compromised her principles, and got Rick moving on taking them around. So why couldn’t she get out of the starting gate? Time was running out; soon she had to go home to her new job. Anxiety gnawed at her stomach. She couldn’t go home without making a genuine attempt to get the necklace back. But she wasn’t having any luck locating the Colonel. At least she couldn’t find him between visits to pubs and churches and pony gymkhanas.…
    “You look subdued,” Lettice said suddenly in her ear. The woman had come up beside her while she’d been thinking. “What