Page 21 of Perfume Girl

“Coming to work for me.”

I didn’t want to work for him.Arrogant bastard.

“Is that your usual expression?” He flashed an amused glance my way and then led his horse into the stables.

“I’m just trying to figure you out, Mr. Beauregard.”

He looked over his shoulder at me and flashed a wry smile. “I run a multi-million dollar business and like horses. There you go…mystery solved.”

Hooves clipped along stone and I smiled when his horse glanced back as though checking to see if I was following. Astor patted his neck with affection and led him into a large stall.

I stood near the doorway and watched Astor shove the stirrup aside from the leather flap and unhook the saddle. He eased it off and perched it on a dividing wall, then grabbed a brush.

The air was filled with the scent of straw and horse. Mingled with his soft cologne, it created an earthy combination.

“What’s his name?” I moved in closer.

“Vedado.” He ran the brush slowly over the horse’s rump and down his hind leg.

“He’s beautiful.”

“He’s a stallion so let’s not offend his pride.”

“Like a stud?”

Astor’s mouth twitched with amusement. “Let’s keep the conversation strictly on the horse.”

“Funny.”

“Do you think you could make it? If I hired you?”

“Make what?”

He paused and turned to face me. “A scent for fuck-boys?”

“From leather and arrogance?” I mused at his brashness.

“Yes.”

“So you’d be the one wearing it?”

“I’m serious.”

“In the right environment I can make anything.”

“Come here.”

“Why?”

“The only reason you’re in here is because of my horse.” He offered me the brush. “Let’s not waste his time.”

I walked over and took the brush out of his hand. Moving past him, I faced Vedado and began running the brush over his long neck. His flesh shivered as I swept it beneath his mane.

“Slower.” Astor stepped up behind me.

That commanding deep tone of his had me wondering what he was like in the bedroom. Masterful? Bossy? Dangerous? My flesh tingled, betraying me with the distraction of these thoughts. Beauregard looked like the kind of man who would throw you onto a bed and then move you around beneath him until you passed out from pleasure. A playboy. The love you and leave you kind.

There, less than five minutes with him and I knew his type.