The Bride Says No Read Online Free PDF

low, submissive. Ruary patted his neck. “We did well, Angus.”
    “I didn’t agree with you when you said you wanted to breed his dam to Emperor. Thought the stud too hot, but he must know how to run, because this one does.”
    “I wouldn’t place money against him.”
    “Neither would I, Mr. Jamerson. Neither would I.”
    Mr. Jamerson . The respect in the groom’s voice filled Ruary with pride. He’d worked hard to reach this point, and it had not been easy.
    He’d been an orphan, a Romany by-blow no one had wanted. His mother had been blonde and fair, a kitchen maid whose good looks had caught her the wrong sort of attention. His father had been swarthy and dark. Together, they had created a son who had his mother’s blue eyes and father’s black hair. He stood six feet tall, and he had square shoulders and a horseman’s grace. The ladies had always been wild for him.
    But his turbulent childhood had kept him humble. He would have come to a bad end if his path hadn’t crossed Old Dickie’s. A groom much like Angus, Old Dickie had been wise in the ways of horses and men. He’d spotted something in Ruary that had been different from most others, and he’d given a lost boy food and a future.
    Of course, Ruary had once come close to losing it all. He’d been foolish enough to fall in love with the wrong woman. Lady Tara Davidson had been too far above his touch, he understood that now; however, at the time, he’d wanted her. He’d loved her.
    And he had thought she’d loved him.
    Love. It could blind a man to what was important.
    If three years ago he’d tossed all aside for Tara, then they would not call him Mr. Jamerson with so much respect. That didn’t mean his heart hadn’t been broken, but he had survived—and he was a wiser man for it. Life was good now.
    He handed the lead line to Angus. “The lads are doing well with the colt.” He looked to a group of stable boys. “Who rides him?”
    The smallest, a towheaded boy of perhaps nine years of age—the same age Ruary had been when he’d started riding horses—said, “I do, sir.”
    “Keep your hand light when you work him. He’s a sensitive animal and we want to keep him that way,” Ruary said.
    “Aye, sir. And he does like to go.”
    The pride in the boy’s voice made Ruary smile. “Keep that in him.”
    “I will, sir.”
    Ruary said, “I’ll see you on the morrow, Angus, later in the day.” He started walking toward the entryway.
    Tack boxes lined the entryway’s walls that faced the windowless grain room. This was where Ruary mixed the special feed from the recipe he had developed himself. He thought to check the oat supply, but before he could go inside, a woman walked into the entryway, a woman he had thought never to see again.
    Lady Tara Davidson .
    Her unannounced appearance caught him off guard almost as much as her beauty did.
    Had he truly believed he had overcome his emotions for her?
    In this moment, seeing her with the sun behind her, highlighting her glorious red-gold hair curling down around her shoulders, Ruary’s heart slammed against his chest with a force that robbed him of breath and stopped him in his tracks.
    She was more lovely than ever. Achingly so. The years in London had added maturity to her face that enhanced her beauty.
    Her lips parted as if his presence had surprised her as well, and then she smiled, her eyes glad, welcoming—and Ruary felt as if all the solid ground beneath his feet had suddenly given way.
    T ara had come in search of Ruary, but she hadn’t expected to almost walk into his arms.
    For a second, all she could do was stare.
    He had changed . . . but in the right way, a good way. He seemed taller, stronger, more commanding.
    This is what she’d missed in the men in London. Yes, with his sharp blue eyes and dark looks, he was handsomer than the majority of them. But, save for Blake Stephens, they had lacked Ruary’s masculinity.
    Of course, Blake did not care about her. Not