Outbid by the Boss by Stephanie Browning Page B

sensing that Chas’ need to be alone. For better or worse, Porter Hall was his home. It had been in his family for generations and now he was thinking about letting it go. His feelings must run deeper than he’d let on; she wondered briefly about his teenage encounter with his father’s mistress, but decided it had to be far more complicated than that. For a man so committed to restoring the family business and protecting the Burton-Porter name, it seemed odd to her that he would choose to abandon his family heritage.
    Ahead of her, Damien’s trot had been kicked into a canter and then a gallop as Chas relieved his anger in time-honoured fashion. Maybe she was reading him the wrong way, thought Sam. Maybe what he needed was a friend. He’d spent half his life alone, and he was about to make a decision that would change that life forever!
    Forgetting how long it had been since she’d done any serious riding, Sam urged Max to a faster pace. She and Chas weren’t exactly friends, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be supportive. She should be by his side. Besides, she might never get a chance to ride a horse like this again. Leaning over the neck of the magnificent animal, she flew along the path untethered, revelling in a sense of freedom as she raced through the crisp green countryside.
    The gap closed.
    The path curved and she lost sight of Chas.
    They were so close to the stream, she could see her reflection as she and Max tore through the underbrush, hooves thundering and spirits soaring as Chas and Damien came back into view. And then suddenly, it all went bad. A panicked rabbit darted across their path. Max reared, and Sam found herself truly flying through the air. A sickeningly brief sight of spinning green ended in a jarring thud as she crashed into the bank of the stream.
    Max’s sharp whinny brought Chas up short. He jerked Damien around and tore back down the path to where Sam lay unmoving on the ground. He flung himself from the saddle and kneeled beside her.
    “Sam,” he called. “Sam, can you hear me?”
    She opened one mud-encrusted eye and then closed it again. “I think George was wrong about the Irish,” she groaned.
    “Where does it hurt? Can you get up?” Chas gripped her hand, afraid to move her in case there were serious injuries.
    “It hurts in too many places to name,” Sam murmured. “And my pride. My pride is damaged beyond redemption.” Her right eye fluttered open. “I think the mud saved the rest of me. Thoughtful of you to put the mud right here.” She sighed. “Isn’t this where the handsome prince kisses the princess and makes it all better.”
    “Absolutely,” said Chas.
    But it was Max who leaned over her and snorted, his whiskers brushing her face with slobber.
    “Yeow!” Sam shot into a sitting position. “Okay. Serves me right. Now my pride is completely shattered.”
    Chas exploded with laughter.
    “You, Miss Redfern, are full of surprises…but, seriously, are you sure you’re all right?”
    “I’m fine, Chas. A little stunned, but nothing’s broken.” She wiggled her fingers for emphasis and then smiled at him, the sun twinkling in her eyes and the laughter bringing a glow to her cheeks that no cosmetic could ever achieve.
    Still, Chas assessed her carefully. He should never have left her. He saw the splash of mud on her forehead, the way her hair twisted wildly from underneath her helmet and that tiny sprinkle of freckles across her nose. Without doubt, he concluded, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
    “I’m not a prince,” he murmured, “but I do want to make it all better.”
    Eyes locking on hers, he leaned in for a soft kiss. He did not demand as he had the night before; he offered the sweetness of his lips, fuelled by the admiration that was growing in him for this unexpected woman. He felt her hesitate only a second and then she drew herself toward him, her hand slowly reaching for his shoulder. His kiss became firmer, more