Ethan Sullivan stared at Evelyn Sullivan’s impassive face, his chest tight as if stuffed with cotton. Never had he felt so powerless—no words or actions could elicit even the slightest reaction from her.
The frustration made him yank his tie loose with irritation.
He stood abruptly and slammed the door behind him.
Evelyn didn’t even glance up. She finished applying sunscreen at a leisurely pace, then grabbed her bag and left.
The resort’s sunlight was perfect. She had no interest in playing Ethan’s cold war games.
The equestrian center’s sign gleamed under the sun.
Evelyn’s eyes lit up. It had been three years since she last rode, and her fingers itched with anticipation. The promise of this very stable was why she’d agreed to come to the resort with the Sullivan matriarch.
“What can I get for you, Miss Sullivan?” A staff member greeted her warmly.
“Full gear.” She pointed to the display case. “That burgundy set.”
After changing into her riding boots, Evelyn followed the instructor to the stables. The trainer led out a docile pony, but her gaze locked onto the chestnut stallion in the far stall.
“I want that one.”
A derisive laugh sounded behind her.
“Some people have a death wish.”
Evelyn turned to see Ethan standing with Alexander King and their group. Lily White clung to Isabella Jackson’s arm, her face alight with schadenfreude.
Alexander frowned. “Lily!”
“Am I wrong?” Lily lifted her chin. “That horse kicked two trainers last week.”
Isabella added softly, “Safety first, sister.”
Evelyn ignored them and spoke to the instructor. “That one. It’s too noisy here.”
Lily’s face flushed with anger. Isabella squeezed her hand and whispered, “Let’s see her break her neck.”
Lucas Laurier nudged Ethan. “Aren’t you going to stop her?”
Ethan’s expression remained icy as he watched Evelyn’s retreating figure. “She’s choosing her own fate.”
Ryan Paisley stepped forward. “Ethan, that horse—”
“Not my problem.” Ethan turned and strode away, his polished shoes crunching harshly against the gravel.
