Chapter Three #3
My eyes were wide as I stared straight ahead. My heart began to pound. As much as I didn’t mind being caught doing what I shouldn’t, I wasn’t sure I could face Jasper Knighton. Over the years, I’d built this man up to be a veritable idol in my mind.
The sound of Jasper leaving the stall came from behind me. “Who are you?” His words were slurred, but when I heard the bolt to Henry’s stable door open and close, I felt Jasper’s approach. Knowing I couldn’t get out of explaining myself, I turned slowly and finally met his eyes.
My chest felt like it had been cracked wide open when Jasper Knighton’s thirty-two-year-old face came into view.
The whites of his eyes were bloodshot from what I presumed was the whiskey, but they were sharp and focused on me.
Thick dark scruff covered his cheeks and chin, and his longer hair fell in loose waves over his forehead.
Jasper Knighton was quite literally the handsomest man I had ever seen.
He was tall and broad, with lean, toned muscles and a face that was perfect but for a slight scar that ran through his eyebrow from a riding incident years ago.
I remembered it like it was yesterday. In Monaco, after jumping a fence, his reins snapped in two—a freak accident.
But the buckle of the rein shot upward and sliced through his eyebrow, causing it to bleed.
Despite this, Jasper stayed seated on Lord Henry, clearing the last fence of the jump-off by holding on to Henry’s platinum mane and trusting his stallion to keep him safe.
It won him the Grand Prix. It was the greatest display of horsemanship I’d ever witnessed.
Jasper’s lips parted and a slip of breath pushed through, bringing me back to the here and now.
My long dark hair was free from a tie and fell to my waist, rather than being held back in my usual daytime braid.
His eyes roved over every part of me. I felt completely exposed, but shivers of excitement traveled like lightning over every inch of me.
“You look like an angel,” Jasper rasped, and his comment only made me lose my composure even more. “You’re stunning.”
Years of hero-worshipping this man, and a decade of finding him the most attractive man in the world, came crashing down onto my soul as he uttered those words.
I fought the smile that threatened to pull on my lips and could feel heat bursting on my cheeks in a bloom of red blush.
I tried to speak, but nerves held me a silent captive.
Jasper stumbled closer. He smelled of a heady mix of sandalwood, mint, and horse. And right now, of whiskey. His eyes glazed as he stepped closer still, and I ceased breathing. Jasper raised his hand and gently took a strand of my hair between his finger and thumb, stroking down its full length.
“So soft,” he said, then lost his footing.
I reached out and caught him before he hit the floor.
Jasper was much heavier than me, but I managed to walk him backward and balance him against the wall between Lord Henry’s stall and Lady Dahlia’s old one.
Like his body couldn’t take any more, Jasper slumped to the floor, legs spread out before him, still clutching the whiskey bottle like it was his lifeline.
My hands held on to his arms, and the force of his fall had me slumping down before him too.
I looked up to see Jasper grinning, and the sight should not have been as hot as it was.
He then proceeded to laugh. My heart skipped at the melodic sound.
“Angel,” he said, and took hold of my hand.
I stared down at our intertwined hands. His were rough and calloused from all his years riding, I presumed.
But they were warm and seemed to fit perfectly within mine.
“I’m sent an angel to get through tonight, and she finds me like this,” he said again, forcing me to meet his dark eyes.
He was still chuckling, but the pain that poured from his gaze made my stomach churn in sadness.
Without releasing my hand, Jasper took another swig of his whiskey, shaking his head as he swallowed. He held the bottle out for me, then pulled it back before I could refuse it. “Silly me. Angels don’t drink whiskey. Only fucked-up souls do.”
“Jasper,” I said, searching around me for any sign of help. I needed someone stronger to help me lift him.
“You know my name,” he whispered, causing me to face him again. He set his bottle of whiskey down and ran the tips of his fingers down my face. “Such beauty,” he said, then stared at my eyes. “Your eyes look turquoise, like a tropical sea.”
I tried to stop my foolish heart from melting at his compliments and vowed to keep to the task at hand. “I need to get you home,” I said, worried about how the hell that could be done when he could barely walk.
“Not home,” Jasper said, firmly, almost panicked, shaking his head and dropping his hand from my face.
He took another swig of his whiskey. He looked up to his left at Henry, whose head was over the stable door, watching his owner crumble.
“Anyway, he’s my home,” Jasper said, and the softly spoken sentiment brought tears to my eyes.
“My proper house is a cell.” He huffed a humorless laugh. “A big cell, but a cell nonetheless.”
I tried to pull back my hand from his, but he held on to me tighter. “Don’t leave me yet, Angel. Please . . .” he begged, all playfulness gone and only devastation causing his body to slump. “I . . .” He choked on his words. His head fell back against the wall. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
I warred with what to do. This was Jasper Knighton. I had broken into his private stables, and worse than that, he was, in a roundabout way, my employer. I was pretty sure any fraternizing was frowned upon.
“Please, Angel,” he begged again, and when I looked to his face, I didn’t stand a chance. I’d been this broken once in my life. And I still remembered that pain like it was yesterday.
Pushing my worry aside, I released my hand from Jasper’s and got to my feet. Jasper’s shoulders slumped, and the sadness that engulfed his perfect face cut through my chest. He watched my every step with his dark-brown eyes, a plea to stay within their chocolate depths.
I rocked on my feet. I needed to leave. I needed to reach the main house and get one of his cousins to help.
I didn’t know Jasper personally, but I believed he wouldn’t want any of the professional riders here seeing him in this state.
But then, I didn’t want to give away that I’d snuck into the private section of the barn either.
Shit.
Then I looked down at him and saw the silent tears falling down his stubbled cheeks. In that second, I knew I wouldn’t be going anywhere.
Jasper watched my every move, like I was gravity, and he was being pulled toward me.
Nervously tucking my hair behind my ears, I moved beside him and sat down.
I left an inch of space between us, but Jasper shuffled closer until his thigh was flush against my own.
The heat from his body almost set me ablaze.
More so when Jasper’s hand found my own and he entwined our fingers together.
I stared at our joined hands far too long. I blinked a few times just to be sure this was real. I was here, in the Knighton family barn, with Lord Henry behind us and Jasper Knighton holding my hand. I felt like I was hallucinating.
“Did he send you?” Jasper said, pulling me from my thoughts.
I looked up at him, at his beautiful, sorrowful eyes. “Who?” I asked.
Jasper exhaled, his breath deep and stuttered.
“Is he disappointed in me? Because I haven’t found out who did it?
” I frowned, unable to understand what he was talking about.
Jasper took another pull of his whiskey.
He clutched my hand tighter, then regarded me again.
His head tipped to the side. My God, this man was perfect. His face, his stubble, his accent.
“Are all angels as beautiful as you?” he asked, and I was sure I wouldn’t be able to take much more. Jasper was extremely drunk and somehow believed I wasn’t quite real. But hearing him tell me I was beautiful completely derailed me.
“Jasper,” I said, and reached for the whiskey with my free hand. “I think you can stop now.” Jasper watched me but pulled the bottle to his chest.
“If I stop, the pain comes back,” he said, being more candid than I believed he would ever be sober. After all, to him, I was a complete stranger.
“What pain?” I asked, feeling intrusive. But Jasper was broken, and I didn’t know how to make it better.
Jasper tapped his hand over his chest. “The pain that lives in here.” He placed his hand over his heart.
He met my eyes, and his gaze filled with tears.
“It never goes away, Angel. It’s always here.
Bringing me so much pain and guilt that I can’t take it.
” He shook his head as though he was being tortured inside.
“And I deserve it. I know I deserve it.” He sighed, and his breathing was shaky.
Gripping my hand harder, he brought my hand to his cheek, and I stilled.
I didn’t dare move. Meeting my eyes, he said, “I just wish it would go. Even for a little bit. Just so I could breathe.”
“Jasper,” I murmured, feeling my eyes filling with tears too.
I was soft at heart and couldn’t bear to see anyone else in pain.
I curled my fingers against his face and ran the tips over his tear tracks, erasing the damp rivulets.
He was watching me, like he was waiting for me to save him, to erase the agony in his heart.
“You can let go. Don’t keep it all inside. ”