Chapter 170
Nora's POV
I felt Julian's arm tighten around my waist, the shift in his posture subtle but unmistakable. The warmth that had wrapped around us moments ago evaporated, replaced by the cold edge of political calculation.
"Foster," Julian said, his voice stripped of all emotion.
"I appreciate the invitation," I said quickly, before Julian could respond. My voice came out steadier than I felt. "But I'm not really familiar with policy discussions. You should go ahead without me—I'll just keep riding for a bit."
Get him away from me. Let him do his job. Don't let me affect him.
Julian's grip on my waist tightened fractionally. I felt the shift in his breathing, the warning tension coiling through him.
"That won't be necessary," he said.
I blinked. Looked up at him.
His eyes had gone flat and cold, locked on Blair with the kind of authority that didn't need to be shouted. "Mr. Foster, I understand you're concerned about regional policy. But today is my private time. If there are official matters to discuss, you can schedule an appointment through the Federal Inspector General's office." He paused, letting the words sink in. "I won't be joining you."
Blair's smile faltered. Just for a second—a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face before he recovered. "Of course, of course. I didn't mean to intrude. Just thought we could chat casually, you know—"
"I don't do casual chats about policy," Julian said flatly. "Especially not on my days off."
The finality in his tone left no room for negotiation.
Blair's jaw tightened, but he nodded, backing off with a forced smile. "Understood. Enjoy your ride, then."
He turned and walked toward the exit.
I stared after him, my heart still pounding. When I looked back at Julian, he was watching me, his expression softer now but still intense.
"You didn't have to do that," I said quietly. "If it was important—"
"It wasn't," he cut in. His hand slid to the small of my back, guiding me away from the stables. "And even if it were, that's not my job. My job is to oversee governance, not entertain local power brokers during my time off."
I bit my lip. "But what if he—"
"Baby." Julian stopped walking, turning to face me fully. His hands settled on my shoulders, his gaze steady and unwavering. "These days were supposed to be about you. About us. If I'd said yes to him, there'd be a line of people waiting to 'accidentally' run into me tomorrow. I had to draw the line now."
The knot in my chest loosened slightly. "You're sure?"
"Completely." His thumb brushed along my collarbone, a small, grounding touch. "You're not a distraction, Nora. You're the reason I'm here."
I swallowed hard, warmth flooding through me despite the lingering tension. "Okay."
His mouth quirked into a faint smile. "Okay?"
"Yeah." I managed a shaky grin. "Okay."
"Good." He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. "Now, are you going to let me teach you how to actually ride, or are you going to keep clinging to Prince like he's a life raft?"
I shoved his chest lightly. "You are trying to make me look ridiculous."
"Never," he said, grinning now. "I just enjoy watching you learn new things."
"Liar."
Julian kept one hand on the reins as I climbed back into the saddle. This time it went more smoothly—no panic, though my knuckles were still white from gripping the saddle horn.
"Relax your shoulders," Julian said, walking alongside the horse. His voice had shifted back into that low, instructive tone that made my pulse skip. "You're too tense. Prince can feel it."
We circled the paddock slowly, Julian adjusting my posture with quiet instructions. Gradually, the fear ebbed. My breathing evened out. I even managed to relax enough to enjoy the rhythm of Prince's gait.
By the time we finished, my legs were trembling, but I felt oddly triumphant.
Julian reached up to help me dismount. His hands closed around my waist, lifting me down with effortless strength. For a moment, I was suspended against him, my hands braced on his shoulders.
"Better?" he murmured.
I nodded, breathless. "Yeah."
He set me down gently, but didn't let go. His hands lingered on my hips, his gaze dropping to my mouth.
"I need to sit," I said quickly, before I did something stupid like kiss him passionately right here in front of the stable hands.
His smirk told me he knew exactly what I was thinking. "Go ahead. I'll join you in a minute."
---
I collapsed onto a bench in the shaded rest area. From here, I had a perfect view of the paddock as Julian mounted his own horse—a massive black stallion that looked like it had walked straight out of a medieval battlefield.
He moved with effortless grace, swinging into the saddle like he'd been born on horseback. The stallion tossed its head, restless, but Julian controlled it with a light touch on the reins.
Then he spurred the horse forward, and my breath caught.
He rode like it was second nature—like the horse was an extension of him. The power in every movement, the absolute control, the way his body moved in perfect sync with the animal beneath him.
I couldn't look away.
My heart beat faster, a strange, visceral pull tugging at something deep inside me. This man is mine, I thought, and the thought felt surreal.
I was still staring when a voice spoke beside me.
"Miss Grey?"
I jumped, twisting around.
Annabel Foster stood a few feet away, dressed in an immaculate cream riding suit, her long hair pulled back in a high ponytail.
"Miss Foster," I said evenly, masking my irritation.
She sat down on the bench without waiting for an invitation, crossing her legs with practiced elegance. "I saw you riding earlier. First time?"
"Yeah."
"It shows." Her tone was light, almost friendly. Almost. "Riding takes years of practice. I started when I was five. Won my first junior competition at ten."
I kept my face neutral. Oh, here we go.
"It's not just about skill," she continued, her gaze drifting toward the paddock where Julian was riding. "It's about breeding. Coordination. The right kind of upbringing."
Translation: You don't belong here.
I smiled thinly. "I'm sure you're very accomplished."
"I am." She turned back to me, her eyes sharp despite the pleasant expression. "You know, Miss Grey, since you're learning to ride, maybe we should have a little friendly competition sometime. I could give you some pointers."
"That's generous," I said slowly. "But I don't think I'm ready for that."
"No?" Her smile widened, just a fraction too smug. "Well, if you change your mind—"
"If you really want to compete," I interrupted, meeting her gaze head-on, "you should ask my boyfriend. His riding is probably more your speed."
The word hung between us like a dropped bomb.
Annabel's smile froze. Her eyes flickered with something sharp and ugly before she masked it. "Boyfriend?"
"Yeah." I leaned back, crossing my arms. "Julian. Right there, galloping."
Her jaw tightened. "I see."
"Do you?"
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then she stood, smoothing down her jacket with deliberate precision. "Well. Congratulations, Miss Grey. I'm sure you'll... figure out how to keep up with him."
She turned and walked toward the paddock, her posture rigid with barely concealed irritation.
I watched her go, my pulse still racing.
Yeah. Good luck with that.