Their gazes held for a moment, and Tate felt the connection between them, bewitching and ancient. Keeping his movements quiet and gentle, he took one small step toward her, then another. Slowly, he extended his hand toward her in the universal gesture of friendship. With a sudden whinnying snort, the gorgeous filly tossed her head, kicked her heels up at him, and left him choking on dust as she galloped to the far end of the corral, bucking and farting the whole way. Once at the other end, she stood with her butt defiantly pointed at him. Clearly, he'd charmed her. Coughing and waving away the dust, Tate blew out his own snort of exasperation. He'd been rushing. Trying to impress new clients who had plenty of horses and deep pockets. He knew better. No female in the world liked to be hurried. They all wanted finessing and sweet talk. Even if they were a female of the equine persuasion. In fact, sometimes especially then. He'd built his horse training career based on that bone-deep knowledge.
What do You think about Wild Wolf: Black Mesa Wolves #4 (2015)?
