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Through the ubiquitous panes of glass, the morning sunlight shone down on the carefully cultivated trees lining the paths. Burbling fountains and artificial streams ran throughout.Lisa’s skin crawled. This place was evil, all the more so for its deceptive beauty. She hated being here, but there was little choice. Conrad hadn’t been the smoking gun they’d hoped for. Even after Jessica got him under control, he hadn’t known much. No idea where the Temple captives were being held, no great secrets that would get them help. He hadn’t been a complete dud, though. If he didn’t have what they needed, he at least had some ideas of where to get it.Truth be told, what little hope they had depended on him. There was no way she’d make it inside without the credentials he’d forged. Better still was the network password he’d provided. That was their only hope right now. Even if he hadn’t paid much attention to the Brotherhood intrigues, he still had access to their private network. All she needed. He had found out she took her morning ride along this old smugglers path. He had been unable to free his mind of her beauty, but it was more than that, there was something in her strong features that told of an underlying self-assurance, not often found in her sex.Arriving at a small stream, Davey dismounted and led his horse forward to drink. As he stood patting its neck the sound of hooves pounding the dusty track came to his ears. Turning, he saw her. She was mounted on a white mare, almost as tall as his own mount, dressed not as he would have expected in a long ladies riding habit. But in a white blouse, and a smart riding skirt.“So we meet again,” the woman said as she reigned her mare to a halt beside Davey.“You have the advantage of me, my lady, I fear we have never met before, though I wish it were otherwise,” Davey answered.“Sir, I may not recognize you, but I know my horses. I only know of one chestnut stallion, standing seventeen hands, with black markings on its.
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