Page 13 of Hideaway

Having eaten her packed lunch in the warmth of the greenhouse, Kara set off in search of the stables. She hadn’t been around horses in years, and she welcomed the chance to find something pleasant about her captivity. Kara quickly spotted the stables due to the sheer size of the black painted building. It was probably big enough to house twenty or more horses. She hated the thought of all those living creatures being compiled as what was probably just a status symbol of Cade’s wealth. There was no way a man like Cade had the capacity for empathizing with an animal.

Kara walked into the stables with the intention of giving every single horse the love and attention they were no doubt starving for. She’d saved the apples Mrs. Hughes packed her in the hopes of finding a friend to share them with. The horses began to rustle and neigh as she approached, a little restless with a stranger in their midst. “Shh shh shh,” Kara calmed them as she treaded in slowly. “It’s okay. You don’t need to be afraid. I’m trapped here too, just like you.” Kara walked along the stalls, stopping when a particularly friendly mare stuck her head out and neighed at her in greeting.

“Hey, girl,” Kara said softly, reaching out her hand to stroke the midnight black mare along the nose. “You’re a pretty girl, aren’t you?” The horse seemed to preen at her words. “Are you hungry? Would you like a treat, sweetheart?” Kara asked the horse as she reached into the basket on her arm and pulled out a red and yellow dappled apple. The horse moved in excitement, snatching the apple from Kara’s open hand and crunching down loudly. “That’s it.” Kara stroked her mane, loving the feel of the coarse tresses beneath her fingers. “Someone likes treats, don’t they? What’s your name, pretty girl?”

A loud clatter of something heavy dropping to the floor startled Kara from her one-sided conversation with the horse. Frantically glancing toward to stables entrance, Kara found herself staring into the brooding, green-gold eyes of the last person on earth that she wanted to see.“Fucking hell, don’t scare me like that!” Kara shouted, having recovered her composure enough to put thought to word. Why the hell was he there? She assumed he was out working—robbing museums or thieving estates or whatever the fuck he did.

“Iscaredyou? I would rather think I’m more surprised to find you lurking about my stables,”Cade responded shortly, working to recover his equilibrium after having his chance at tranquility ripped away with the presence of an intruder in his favorite hideaway. Well, second favorite.“You’re petting my horse,”he informed with a dark, pointed look at where her hand continued to stroke the soft, dark mane of the sweet mare in the stall.

Kara jerked her hand away as though bitten, terrified to have touched anything Caden Ashford claimed as his without permission. The mare sought her out greedily, nudging her with her nose as if to beg for more coddling. Guiltily, Kara moved out of reach. Nothing was worth inciting Cade’s anger, no matter how damn cute his horse was.

“You said I was allowed anywhere on the grounds,”Kara defended, her eyes flickering with fear at the thought of having unintentionally offended or angered him. Her hand subconsciously drifted to her throat where the marks of his last bout of fury still lay upon her skin, strokes of deep blue starkly contrasting the paleness of her neck.

“I did,”Cade conceded, his tone softening as he realized her tension—and the cause of it.“I’m just not used to happening upon visitors in the stables. This is where I go to be alone. I prefer the company of creatures who keep their thoughts to themselves and allow me to keep my own in turn.”

In spite of herself, Kara could empathize. That was exactly why she preferred books to people. Uncomfortable with finding a common ground with her nemesis, she attempted to shatter the stirrings of kinship as quickly as possible.“Yes, I could tell from your manners that you’re out of practice when it comes to human relations. Your social graces are rather rusty. Most men take a woman out to eat before holding her hostage in their excessive mansions.”

“I believe we ate breakfast together yesterday, Miss Caine,” Cade answered with a smile that might have been considered charming.

“Yes, but that wasafterthe kidnapping, so it doesn’t count,”Kara answered teasingly. She was horrified with how playful her voice sounded to her own ears. Fuck, what if he thought she was flirting? Fuck, what if shewasflirting? Stockholm syndrome was setting in so quickly that it felt normal to joke about being fucking kidnapped. She needed a distraction before she did something really stupid. Like forget she was supposed to be escaping from the dark, brooding, undeniably attractive bastard before her.

“So, what’s her name?”Kara asked as a subject change, feeling safe enough to continue stroking the mare who neighed happily with the returned attention.

“Sugar Cubes,”Cade answered, a hesitant smile on his lips as he watched Kara whisper sweet nothings in the horse’s ear.

“Sugar Cubes?”Kara questioned with a laugh.“Who named her? A five year old with a penchant for sweets?”

“In a way,”Cade responded with a soft laugh of his own.“When I was a boy, I had a favorite black mare. Her true name was Midnight Fury, but she had a real obsession with the sugar cubes I would steal for her from Mrs. Hughes kitchen, hence the nickname. When I was home, I rode her nearly everyday. She passed while I was at boarding school, a couple years before I headed to Oxford. In her memory, this girl is Sugar Cubes II.”

Cade moved beside Kara to stroke the horse’s neck lovingly. He noticed Kara flinch at his closeness, but she didn’t move away. Cade used the proximity to study Kara as she was fully preoccupied with Sugar Cubes. For all her infuriating attributes, she could appreciate an animal’s company, and he had to admit that warranted at least a small measure of his respect. His gaze traveled her body, and the talons of self-hatred dug in deep when he saw the shadowy imprint of his fingers on her throat. How could she stand to be near him when he had been so brutish the last time they’d spoken?

Unbidden, Cade’s fingers reached out to brush the marks marring her skin. His marks. Seeing his anger and violence written upon her body left him feeling uncontrollably sickened. He wished he could wipe the bruises from her throat as much as he wished he could wipe the moment he gave them from her memory.

“I’m sorry for these,”Cade said roughly, his voice heavy with remorse and other emotions he couldn’t even begin to ascribe with a label. He continued to tenderly stroke the back of his knuckles along her neck as she stood frozen beneath him.

“W-what?”Kara asked as though confused by his words, the warmth of his touch depriving her of rational thought as her heart struggled to maintain a steady rhythm and her lungs labored over-strenuously to supply her body with oxygen.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,”he continued softly.“It was never my intention to cause you harm. I needed the book. I still do. But that isn’t an excuse for resorting to that kind of violence.”Cade’s lingering fingers found her chin and gently forced her head up to look at him.“It will not happen again, you have my word.”Cade’s green-gold eyes deepened with the solemn sincerity of a promise that would not be broken.

And, whether it was wisdom or folly, Kara believed him.

Overcome by the stirring mix of forgiveness and trust he saw pooling in her bright eyes, Cade allowed himself to drift closer.

Closer.

Closer still.

Until his lips hovered so close to hers that he could almost taste her essence on his tongue. He could feel the radiating heat from her body penetrating his skin as though nothing, not even clothes, lay between them. Her scent pervaded his senses with the crispness of florals and the sweetness of summer berries. He could hear the rapid beating of her heart and feel the heaving of her chest against him. If he were to take an educated guess, and it would be very educated at that, he would guess that all the signs of her body pointed to arousal. Surprisingly, he could say the same of his own.

“Miss Caine, are you wearing my clothes?” Cade asked, his voice falsely stern, after recognizing the familiar items. And there was something about seeing her dressed in something of his that sent an unexpected thrill of excitement through his body. The cheeky girl was wearinghisthings, caressinghishorse, and a quick glance at her basket revealed that she had been pilfering the best ofhisprized roses—ones he had taken the risk of smuggling to the states from his grandmother’s garden back in Yorkshire. In fact, Kara fucking Caine was starting to waltz aroundhishome as though she owned the bloody place. The thought made him bristle as much as it made him feel an inexplicable sense of satisfaction. It was a curious dichotomy that he hoped never to delve into any further.

“Mrs. Hughes practically forced them on me,” Kara explained at his accusation, a note of tension in her tone. She couldn’t tell if Cade was actually mad or not. “I’m sorry. I can take them off if you want?”

Cade chuckled. “We barely know each other, and you’re already trying to take your clothes off for me?”

Kara’s face turned red in mortification. “That’s not what I meant—I-I just didn’t want you to think I’d taken them. Without your permission, I mean.” Kara shifted nervously, wishing that she’d never left her damn room, as Cade’s fingers still lingered on her neck, freezing her in place.

Cade pressed himself into her, pushing her up against the stall door, unable to suppress the need to feel her beneath him. His fingers trailed up her neck and over her cheek, brushing away the stray hair in an almost tender gesture. “Kara, you know my line of work. Do you really think I’d begrudge you the theft of a scarf for a wintery day?”

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