Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Rowland Asherfield could have had any woman he wanted. But all he cared to possess was her. He spoiled her with his wealth and undivided attention. And then he stole her heart with his tender and fiercely possessive ways.Emerald's life was like a fantasy made real ever since becoming Mrs. Rowland Asherfield. But her whole world shattered when she realized Rowland had lied.Their secret marriage was supposed to protect her. But now she knew it was only because her husband was ashamed to have a stablegirl for a wife.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Her
"It's him, it's him. Mr. Asherfield."
Emmy didn't take her gaze off the blanket straps even as the other stable girls rushed out of their stalls. It had taken her an entire month to earn Princess's trust. No way would she risk undoing her hard work just to gawk at their billionaire boss.
"Oh gosh, he's so gorgeous."
"And hot. Doesn't it always feel hotter when he's around?"
"How's my hair? Do I look okay?"
Emmy made sure to walk slowly and stay within Princess's sight as she moved to the other side. Keeping horses warm during the winter wasn't as easy as most people assumed. One didn't simply toss a blanket over a horse and then patted themselves on the back for a job well done.
Blanketing horses, especially traumatized ones like Princess, required patience, strategy, and genuine care. All it took was one improperly secured strap, just one strap brushing against her side like an invisible threat for Princess to bolt and unmitigated disaster to ensue.
"Can you imagine having all that to yourself? Yum!"
"I'm getting wet just looking at him."
"That bulge! No way can that be a banana!"
Emmy fought hard to keep her cheeks from turning red. Focus, Emmy! This beautiful creature in her charge did not deserve anything less than her 110% attention on the job.
"I don't go down for just anyone, you know? But for Mr. Asherfield? Where do I sign up? "
"I feel ya, girl. My mouth's all dry just thinking about that meat of his."
"I wish I could just touch it. Maybe I should fake stumbling and accidentally grip it?"
Emmy was torn between wanting to cover Princess' ears...or her own. She had known early on that she was a prude by today's standards, but was it really okay to discuss another person's private parts in public? Wouldn't this be a case of sexual harassment if their boss happened to be female, and her coworkers happened to be all men? So why did she seem to be the only one bothered?
"Do you think it's true? I've heard someone say that her friend had a one-night stand with Mr. Asherfield, and that friend swears he's got a footer."
Emmy's brows pleated as she gave Princess a gentle pat on the head before moving away to start mucking. What 'footer' were the other girls talking about? Was it a new term for one of those NDAs women often had to sign when dating men of great wealth?
A tiny clump of manure she had missed caught her eye, and the offending sight shoved all thoughts about gorgeous billionaires and their mysterious footers out of her mind. Rowland Asherfield might be one of Texas' Sinfully Irresistible Bachelors (or SIBs as their Texan fangirls adoringly called them), but what was most important to Emmy right now was eliminating any potential source of infection for her four-legged baby.
Emmy didn't miss the way the other girls turned their noses up when they saw her reach for the pitchfork. Most of them had made no secret that they considered their jobs an embarrassment, but Emmy had always felt the opposite. She loved working with horses, and it was her pride and joy to see that every stall assigned to her was perfectly clean and comfortable for her babies to use.
It was her greatest dream to one day have a horse of her own and be able to enjoy rides every day. But since she also knew it would take her decades to make her dream come true on her own...
Please let this be the right decision, God. But if it's not, please don't let it push through.
Emmy's heart raced as thoughts of this evening resurfaced in her mind. Tonight was all about taking a leap of faith. She wanted to believe a future was waiting for her beyond the bare walls of her cramped room and the impersonal confines of city life.
If tonight worked out as planned, her future would be that of a happily married small-town wife. Together, she and her future husband would work hard to save up and rescue a horse from one of those awful kill auctions. Maybe even a second one, if God willed it, and then she and her husband could enjoy horseback rides together on the weekends.
That would be the life, Emmy thought wistfully as she lost herself in her daydreams.
"Emmy, be careful!"
She swung around, pitchfork in hand, and had the shock of her life.
Uh oh.
It was too late to do anything but gasp along with her coworkers as the clump of manure-coated pellets flew into the air like missiles. But instead of going straight into her waiting cart, it struck the smooth, perfectly tanned cheek of none other than Rowland Asherfield himself.
Him
"I'm so sorry, sir."
People were always one of three things when apologizing to Rowland: frightened, coy, or malicious. It depended on whether that person had fucked up, wanted a fuck, or planned to have him fuck off.