Page 59 of Perfume Girl

I reached for Taylor’s arm. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Of course. Want some bubbly?” She swept two flutes off a passing waiter’s tray.

I glanced around nervously. “Where do we pay for it?”

“It’s complimentary. This is a charity event.”

I followed her gaze toward the noise of hooves striking the turf and drew in a sharp breath at the speed and tussle of men and animals all fighting over a small white ball.

This wasn’t a bad afternoon…spending time watching those masterful men on their well-bred horses. They were literally halfway off their saddles leaning down with their long-handled mallets as they swept low to strike a ball that they then catapulted in front of them—a bit like hockey, but way more dangerous.

I knew that polo was considered the sport of kings and reserved only for the ranks of the privileged who had an appetite for peril and a desire for glamour. It was invigorating to watch.

I was mesmerized. “How did you know there would be a match?”

“The boss is playing.” She frowned toward the green. “Crazy.”

I spotted Astor riding one of the horses and my breath caught in my throat.

He was galloping toward two goal posts and beside him another horseman was right up against him—both of them making a run for the other end of the pitch.

Taylor gestured towards them. “They gallop up to thirty-five miles an hour.”

“Is it safe?” Because it didn’t look it.

“They fall off the horses, break things, and worse, sometimes.”

“What’s worse?”

“Astor got knocked out once.” She tucked her arm through mine. “Let’s get closer.”

Astor wouldn’t notice me amongst all these people, so I could enjoy watching him from a safe distance. He looked fearless and was clearly a competitive player.

Taylor’s words from the café found me again and I wondered how all those experiences had shaped this man. There was so much more to him than I’d imagined.

I wasn’t the only one riveted; many of the guests had lined the far side of the tent to watch the controlled chaos of horses and men all striving for the win.

When the match ended I didn’t expect Taylor to wave aggressively at Astor to get his attention. I cringed when he looked our way from atop his stallion.

Oh, no.

He nudged his chestnut horse in our direction, unclipping his helmet as he neared the edge of the tent where we stood. I tried to hide my embarrassment.

Astor pulled on the reins and peered down at me with a curious expression. His high-spirited stallion didn’t want to stop, but Astor masterfully controlled him with a squeeze of his heels and a tug of the bit. The earthy scent of horse and leather wafted over me.

“Hey, boss.” Taylor shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up at him.

“You two friends now?” he asked.

Taylor swapped a glance with me. “Well, hello to you, too, Mr. Beauregard.”

Astor stared at me. “How are you, Raquel?”

“Fine, thank you.” I avoided his gaze.

He dismounted and I couldn’t help but ogle his tight butt in the dusty jodhpurs. He looked even more ruggedly handsome.

Astor brought the reins over his horse’s head and led him closer. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.” He directed the comment at me.