Read Giving Chase (A Racing Romance) (Aspen Valley Series #2) for Free Online Page A

and Ta’ Qali.
    ‘Not liking what you see?’ a voice behind her spoke up.
    Frankie didn’t have to turn around to recognise the owner of the silken tone. She ignored Rhys, aware though that her heart rate had stepped up a beat.
    ‘Not until I turn around,’ she replied over her shoulder.
    She couldn’t be certain, but she was pretty sure Rhys almost laughed. Well, maybe laugh was too expressive a term, ‘harrumphed’.
    ‘Touché . What have you got?’
    Frankie felt the overpowering yet completely pointless need to show off to him.
    ‘A Festival winner in Foxtail Lily and a full-brother to a Goodwood and Doncaster Cup winner; I think I’ve got a pretty good deal.’
    Rhys stepped into her line of sight next to her and peered at the list, his brows knitted together. His collar was turned up against the drizzle, but apart from that he seemed unaware of the weather. Raindrops swept over his cheekbones into the hollows of his gaunt cheeks before riding along the hard line of his jaw and gathering at his chin to take the final plunge to earth.
    ‘Who’s your Cup full-brother?’ he asked, curiosity stamping out the arrogance in his voice.
    ‘Ta’ Qali. His sister was Sequella.’
    Rhys looked at her in disbelief.
    ‘That thing?’ he said, pointing towards Ta’ Qali’s stable.
    Frankie squared her feet and crossed her arms.
    ‘Yes.’ She might not have known Ta’ Qali all that long but no one, especially Rhys Bradford, was going to get away with insulting any of her charges.
    Rhys threw back his head and laughed. Frankie glared at him.
    ‘I’m sorry but his dam must have cheated,’ he chuckled before heading over to the tack room. His walk was offset by a slight limp. ‘Good luck with your “good deals”,’ he flung over his shoulder.
    Frankie bit her lip and watched him disappear through the doorway. Her heart was still thudding. It’s just because every time you’ve met him there’s been some drama or other, she told herself sternly. It’s got nothing to do with the fact that you find those black eyes so compelling or that he has features so flawlessly defined you just want to stroke them. P ut those features on a nicer person, then she might be tempted, but while they belonged to Rhys Bradford? No way.
    Would those unsettling looks he gives you have the same effect if the person was kinder, t he voice in her head questioned? Would that delicately pouting mouth be so captivating if it wasn’t always set in that mocking smirk?
    ‘Oh, shut up,’ Frankie muttered. With a sigh, she con centrated once more on the corkboard. Who was he riding anyway that made him ridicule her horses?
    ‘ Ah, okay.’ She felt a fraction less bumptious of her defence. Rhys only had three rides this morning: Romano, a high-class handicap chaser, Virtuoso, a previous Cheltenham Gold Cup winner, and Dexter, another Festival winner. Foxtail Lily’s success in the Champion Bumper five years ago hadn’t gone down as one of racing’s most historical moments, so in comparison, yes, Frankie supposed Rhys did have a reasonable excuse for looking smug.
    *
    Jogging along the track aboard Twain towards the main gallop, Frankie forgot about the rain. In front of her, beside her, behind her the famous red anoraks of Aspen Valley Stables burst through the gloom.
    Wait until I tell Dad about this, she marvelled. The ceaseless chatter of a dozen riders filled her ears, interrupted only by equine snorts and clarion whinnies. A thin mist draped across the hillside making the all-weather track disappear into the sky. As they neared the gate that led onto the gallop, Frankie studied the leader. Unlike the others, Rhys rode alone, silent, uncommunicative and to make him even more glaringly estranged he wore a black jacket instead of red.
    The distant growl of a car engine caught her attention and she watched Jack’s silver Land Rover disappear into the mist, bumping over the uneven road up the hill as he prepared to watch his horses