Free Dark Rider by Iris Johansen Page A

believe you said he had a lovely gait.”
    Bradford’s brow wrinkled in bewilderment. “I did? When did—” His eyes widened. “On the shore? The woman?”
    Jared didn’t answer as he went down the steps and set out for the stable. “Are you coming?”
    Giving a low whistle, Bradford followed him. “I’m beginning to understand.” He chuckled. “You were telling the truth when you said he’d raised her as a savage. I thought you were referring to her manners.”
    “I don’t want to talk about her anymore. We’re going to see the horse.”
    “Ah, yes, the horse,” Bradford said. “But you must admit your meeting was an interesting coincidence. Most unusual. Almost as if it were fated.”
    Jared made an obscene remark.
    “Don’t be impolite. There are a great many people in this world who believe in fate.”
    “You’re not one of them.”
    “No, but I wish I did. I wish I believed in something,” Bradford said wistfully. “It would be pleasant, don’t you think?”
    “I think you’ve had too much brandy.”
    “You’re probably right. I always become melancholy after the fifth glass. Are you ever melancholy, Jared?”
    “No.”
    “Of course you’re not. You never let yourself feel anything so mawkish. You allow yourself lust and an appreciation of beauty, a hunger for knowledge … even an affection for my humble self.” He opened the stable door. “But nothing that would strike deep, no sentimental nonsense for you.”
    “Isn’t that what you taught me?”
    “No, I taught you only to be cautious. You built the other walls yourself. Sometime when I’m sober, I must have a talk with you about the danger of— What have we here?”
    “Someone who belongs.” Lani turned away from the stallion’s stall and set the bucket of oats down on the ground. “As you do not. Isn’t it enough that you injured Kanoa? Do you also intend to steal her horse?”
    “I didn’t injure her,” Jared said, trying to keep his temper. “And we came only to look at the animal in the daylight. Were you thinking of riding out and going to your lover?”
    “No, I was feeding him.” She moved toward the door. “No one rides Kapu but Kanoa.”
    “What a pity,” Bradford murmured as he eagerly moved toward the stall. “Jared, he’s magnificent. Look at those lines … the shoulders.” He reached a hand out to touch the white star between the stallion’s eyes. “And he moves with—”
    “Don’t touch him!” Lani hurried forward and slapped his hand down.
    “I wasn’t going to hurt him.”
    “I know,” Lani said grimly. “But I have no desire to bandage your hand after he savages you. Kapu doesn’t like strangers.”
    “He apparently likes you.” Bradford looked at her with interest before bowing low. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Bradford Tyndale Danemount.”
    “I know who you are. You’re the uncle.”
    He sighed. “Such is my boring fate. The brother, the uncle, never Bradford Danemount the extraordinary, the bold knight, the wise sage, the—”
    “Stay away from Kapu,” Lani interrupted. “You have had too much to drink, and Kapu likes drunks.”
    “If that’s the case, then we should get along splendidly.”
    Lani’s smile gleamed white with wickedness. “But Kapu likes to see them dead. He trampled his former master until one could not tell he had ever had a face.”
    “Who was his master?” Jared asked as he stepped closer to the stallion.
    “An Englishman who stopped here on his way to Australia. When he was drunk, he beat Kapu unmercifully. One day he grew careless and Kapu was equally unmerciful. The king tried to claim Kapu for his own, but he was too vicious. They were going to put him to death until Charles went to Kamehameha and begged him to sell the horse to him.”
    “Nothing I’ve learned about Deville indicates he has a fondness for horses,” Jared said.
    “But he has a fondness for Cassie, and she was inlove with the stallion.” She