Molly headed for the manor house but paused to glance into the shadowy stables. She shook her head in exasperated wonder. The horses’ quarters looked better maintained than the house. Distracted by her musings, she shrieked when someone clamped an arm around her waist and hauled her back against a hard masculine body. Molly reacted instinctively and slammed her boot heel into the shin of her assailant. “Jaysus, Molly, trying to sweep you off your feet is a dangerous undertaking,” Logan grunted and toted her into a small room at the far end of the stables. He kicked the door shut and set her down on her feet. The redolent smells of leather and oil filled the confined space. Saddles, bridles, all the equipment an equestrian would require was set around the room in an organised fashion. “What are you about, Logan? I have work.” He leaned against the door. Every line in his body hinted at nonchalance, but the predatory gleam in his eyes gave away his less than chaste intentions.
