Of course he knew exactly the attractive picture he made on that marvellous black horse, probably rode it for the effect alone. He turned in the saddle to make sure she was coming, then as if reading her thoughts, he grinned and winked wickedly before turning away. Still simmering, she rode cautiously along the river’s edge past the heavy rock protection works and out on to the sand and shingle. Why was she so angry? Admittedly, he was a handsome brute and the sun glinted on his burnished auburn hair in a spectacular way, and his tall, tanned, slim-hipped figure, completely at one with his horse, blended into this rugged mountain land incredibly well. So what! There was nothing in that to bring her to boiling point. His attitude to marriage? It had nothing to do with her. If some dim-witted female was prepared to sit quivering on the shelf, waiting for him to summon her to his bridal-bed, it was still none of her business.
