HIS FIRST LADY(SANDRO MARCOS)

Chapter 20: A Ride In The Woods

"Put your arms around my shoulders," Sandro says. When I comply, he wraps his arms around me and lifts me up. He begins carrying me back the way he came. As I look over his shoulder, I catch a final glimpse of the dead boar that nearly killed me—and Sandro's gun lying forgotten in the dirt.

"Your gun..." I begin to say.

"It's served its purpose," Sandro replies.

"But—"

"I'll send someone back for it later, once we've had you checked out by a doctor."

I curl into his chest, seeking the warmth of his body. Now that the adrenaline has faded, I feel cold.

"I'm fine..."

"You could have internal bleeding."

There's no arguing with him. If he insists I see a doctor, then that's what will happen.

We continue through the brush until we reach a small clearing where Sandro's horse is grazing on tall grass. He helps me onto the horse's back, then mounts behind me. His thighs press against my back, and he wraps his arms around my sides—one hand gripping the reins and the other resting flat against my stomach, keeping me secure.

Heat flushes my cheeks as embarrassment overtakes me.

"Let me down, Sandro. I can walk."

"Absolutely not," Sandro snaps, his hold tightening, pressing me more firmly against him.

Something hard nudges against me, and I stiffen.

"Stay still," Sandro commands. I nod, not wanting to make the situation worse.

Sandro guides the horse along a track he must have recently made through the brush, and we start heading toward the country club.

We ride in silence for a while. I listen to the birds singing in the trees and the distant sound of gunshots.

"How did you know something was wrong?" I ask.

"Your horse raced down the trail without you on it. I started to ride back and found Cloudine. Through her hysteria, I figured out that I needed to find you."

"And you did."

"I did."

Thank goodness for that. Sparkle Heart will be getting plenty of sugar cubes when I return to the stables. And for Cloudine, I plan to buy a whole case of wine.

"I don't understand how this happened," I say. "Mr. Carter assured me that they had taken precautions to ensure the safety of our guests. They thoroughly searched every inch of the forest for wild animals. And a boar—one that's not even native to this area. It doesn't make sense."

"There was something off about that boar," Sandro adds. "It seemed diseased, frothing and acting erratically."

Perhaps the boar strayed from its usual habitat due to illness, but the staff should have noticed something during their search this morning. They reported finding nothing.

"This is worth investigating," Sandro says. "Later."

I turn my head to glance at him. His expression is thoughtful but troubled, his brow furrowed.

"Sandro?" I ask, eager to know his thoughts.

"Later," he says, dismissing the conversation.

I face forward again and focus on the path. The horse moves steadily, though the forest all looks the same to me. We could be lost, and Sandro might be keeping it secret.

A shiver of fear runs through me.

"Are you cold?" Sandro asks.

"A little," I admit. I don't want him to know how vulnerable I feel, so I avoid mentioning my fear.

He lifts his hands and covers mine with his own. His warmth seeps into me, skin to skin. The closeness feels intimate.

I shiver again, but this time it's not from the cold. It's from the sensation of his muscular body pressing against me. The movement of the horse only intensifies everything.

If I lean forward... If he presses against me...

God, Rafha! What are you thinking?!

Can I blame the shock of nearly dying for my sudden desire? All I want right now, no matter how irrational, is for him to guide his hands lower and touch me while I lean back into him.

Sandro's hands tighten around mine, our fingers lacing together. Can he sense what I want? Does he want it too?

How reckless of me. Anyone could stumble upon us at any moment, but my desire overwhelms me.

My skin is burning, my panties damp, and my nipples aching. I want him to touch me everywhere, as long as it's skin to skin.

His hardness presses against me again. We're both barely holding on.

He lowers his head to my shoulder and then, turning slightly, brushes his lips against the tender skin of my neck.

"Rafha..." he murmurs, almost as if questioning.

Whatever he wants, the answer is yes.

Just as I open my mouth to sigh or plead, a rustling in the leaves snaps us both out of our daze. Our attention turns to the left.

Through the trees comes a new horse and rider. I don't recognize them at first.

The rider, a woman in a fitted beige leather jacket over a white shirt and matching pants, sits tall in her saddle. Her dark hair is pulled into a tight bun, perfectly maintained as she navigates the trees.

"Ash?" Sandro says, confusion in his voice.

—

This woman, Ash, guides her horse into our path, forcing us to stop. Her horse whinnies and stamps, clearly impatient. It's a beautiful black horse with white patches, well cared for, but its restlessness matches its owner's demeanor. She grips the reins tightly, as if ready to throttle them.

"What are you doing here?" Sandro asks.

"I arrived late," Ash replies, sitting proudly in her saddle. "Imagine my surprise when they said you had darted into the woods. I knew someone had to come after you."

"And that someone had to be you?" Sandro asks.

"Naturally."

Her gaze takes in the sight of us on the horse. When she looks at me, her eyes narrow and her lip curls. She hasn't spoken to me yet, but I can tell with certainty that she dislikes me.

"Who are you?" she spits. "And what do you think you're doing, sitting on Sandro's horse?"