Chapter Fourteen
Hallie
Sandings Grand Prix, Doha
Two days later
Butterflies swarmed in my stomach as we reached the mouth of the arena. The place where, in only a couple of hours, Huxley and I would enter our first ever five-star Grand Prix competition.
I turned to the stands, already filling with spectators.
I especially looked to the corporate box at the end, where Leon had told us Jasper would be watching.
The secret of his presence was all over the show grounds by now—Jasper Knighton was here in Doha, watching this leg of the tour.
But he still tried to keep out of view. Leon told us he said he didn’t want today to be about him.
He wanted his riders and horses to shine.
The butterflies in my stomach darted north to my heart, simply at the thought of Jasper.
Two days. It had been two days since we’d made love.
I was calling it that. Because even though what we did was the most mind-blowing and explosive sex I thought a person could ever have, my feelings for Jasper .
. . Hell. I was skirting into dangerous territory.
And the worst part of it was that I hadn’t seen him since.
He’d been in back-to-back meetings with buyers and breeders and Lord knew who else for the past few days.
He hadn’t even called me. No text, and no knocking on my suite that was right next door to his.
Just . . . silence.
I had no idea where we stood. Was our night in the trailer a one-night thing?
Did he want more? Did I want more? I had no idea.
I didn’t want whatever I had with Jasper to get in the way of my career, but at the same time, now that I knew what it was like to be with him, to be taken in such an animalistic way, I craved more.
What a mindfuck.
When people on the circuit found out Jasper was here in Doha, his schedule quickly filled up.
Atticus told us that Jasper’s secretary from England was constantly refreshing his calendar with a myriad of meetings.
And that was fine . . . good. At least that’s what I’d told myself.
I had a course to prepare for. One I was intending to clear.
And looking at the jumps before me, it was going to be a harder feat than I’d ever imagined.
Welcome to the big show, I suppose.
“Earth to Hallie!” Sage said from beside me and nudged my arm.
I shook my head and took myself from my wandering thoughts.
Focus, Hallie. “Are you ready?” Sage asked and pointed to the arena.
We were here to walk the course. To familiarize ourselves with the order of jumps, the ideal striding, the best and tightest turns, and anything else they wanted to throw at us.
From here, I could already see there was a Liverpool underneath an almost neon-colored oxer.
That didn’t faze me. Huxley wasn’t fazed by the sight of water.
Sage was silent as we walked to the first fence.
She was staring straight ahead with a forced-neutral expression on her face.
I looked to what had pulled her attention.
Atticus. Because of course it was. He was already way ahead of us, walking with Spencer and Lucy Franklin from Team GB, who I knew were close family friends.
There were other riders around us too from all over the globe, but no one in earshot.
She and Atticus had agreed on a ceasefire of sorts during this tour.
No bickering, no jabs at one another. Even their history meant nothing when it came to our team.
Here, they were colleagues and had to be professional.
I could see the strain it put on Sage to not call Atticus a prick or asshole daily, but she was taking one for the team.
Unfortunately, now that she wasn’t allowed to verbally spar with her archnemesis, she’d directed her attention to me. Sage turned from staring at Atticus, then gave me the side-eye with a cocky smirk.
“You’re still thinking about your freaky night, huh?” she asked.
“Shush!” I hissed, and looked around me to make sure she wasn’t overheard.
Sage rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up, Hals. No one can hear.” She shook her head. “But, jeez, girl, if I looked as ruined as you did the other night, I’d still be reliving that epic fuck too.”
I sighed. I wished Sage hadn’t seen me that night.
But not long after Jasper had dropped me back at my hotel room, there was a knock at my door.
I’d thought it was Jasper again, and like I’d been conditioned to his cock, rushed to open it.
But it was Sage, and when she saw me, hair mussed, lipstick smudged, dress askew, and rein marks on my wrists, she burst through the door and demanded to know everything.
So I told her. Every detail. Sage, for once in her life, was silent and slack jawed. Until . . . “Who knew Jasper Knighton was such a fucking beast in bed?” she’d said, fanning her face with her hand. I’d flopped back on the bed and groaned.
“I like him, Sage,” I said, almost inaudibly. Sage lay beside me, sympathy on her face. “I dangerously like him.”
“I know” was all she said. Then she ran me a bath, filling it with scented and soothing oils, and had Tariq, our personal butler, bring up some chamomile tea to help me sleep. It hadn’t worked. In fact, I’d barely slept since. Not because I didn’t like the sex, or that I regretted it.
Exactly the opposite. I craved more. I craved Jasper—his touch, his kiss, his control in bed.
But I didn’t know how things stood between us.
He’d brought me home after we’d fucked in the trailer. He was sweet and attentive and had kissed me good night at my door, like a true gentleman. Then . . . silence. I understood he was busy. But I couldn’t get a read on him after our night together.
“Hals!” Sage’s voice pulled me back to the here and now, and I realized I’d zoned out again.
Shit. Sage tapped my cheek with her hand (not softly), and I narrowed my eyes at my best friend.
She ignored my pissed-off stare. “Girl, focus.” Her hands moved to rest on my shoulders.
Staring me dead in my face, she said, “I know you’re cock-stunned, but you need to forget about your ravishing of a lifetime and switch to your fierce competitor self.
Get your head in the game. Do not let one night of ravenous domination ruin your big chance! ”
As crass as Sage’s words were, they hit the mark. “On it,” I said with a firm nod, and kissed her cheek. Sage winked at me and linked her arm through mine. “Now, fence one,” she said, and we began measuring and counting the strides between each jump.
“Sadists,” Sage said as we moved from jump five to six. The fillers were gaudy and bright with moving parts designed to spook. She shook her head. “Gonna be a rough one, Hals. This course is insane.”
“We can do it,” I said, and tried not to get starstruck as Austin Marks from Canada walked fence seven.
When Leni Klein from Germany walked past us and said, “Good luck, ladies. I’m excited to see you ride,” I almost passed out. It was a strange feeling to suddenly “make it” after years of climbing the ranks. Finding that your heroes were suddenly your peers and fellow competitors was a head rush.
It also taught you that your heroes were just people. Ordinary people who just happened to achieve extraordinary things. And my biggest hero, my biggest inspiration in life . . . well, I could still feel him between my legs.
As if I’d conjured him into real life, I looked over my shoulder and caught sight of Jasper watching from the balcony of a private box, arms crossed over his chest. He wore a light-blue button-down and navy slacks.
His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his forearms, and that alone sent my heart into a sprint.
Then his lips kicked up into a hint of a smile as he caught me watching him, and I was done. What did that mean? What did that smile mean?
Not now. I couldn’t think of this right now.
Inhaling deeply, I refocused and counted the strides between jumps eight and nine, and knew I would nail these two jumps, even if that’s all I managed to clear.
And despite myself, knowing Jasper was this close energized me.
I wanted to show him how good I was. How amazing Huxley was. I wanted his respect as a rider.
“Fucking Liverpool,” Sage muttered as we reached fence ten.
Fefe, her hell-born horse, didn’t like water and liked to refuse fences including them whenever she could—a lake of fire was probably more her thing.
I knew Sage would be a little off-put by this, but like my best friend always did, she shrugged and said, “Looks like me and my precious mare may have a fight on the course today.” She smiled.
“Those are always the most memorable rounds. The battle of the bitches.”
I laughed, and we finished the rest of the course. Once we were sure we had the route down pat, we walked back to the stalls where Huxley and Fefe were already tacked up.
“You good?” Mila asked me as she handed me my navy-colored hat.
I was dressed in a navy show jacket, a crisp white show shirt, and white show breeches with pristinely polished tall riding boots on my feet.
All Knighton Equestrian–branded, of course.
Then again, most would be wearing some article from Jasper’s line today.
His was the highest grossing and most worn equestrian brand in the world.
My head spun if I thought about that too much. The man was more than impressive.
As I slid my helmet on, Atticus came over to us. “Ready, team?” he said chipperly, and Sage discreetly rolled her eyes at him. She was trying, really, she was. But no one was perfect.
“The team comp is tomorrow.” Sage smiled sweetly at her biggest rival. “Today is every man for themselves.”