by Joanna Blake
Phoenyx Rising
Joanna Blake
Contents
Phoenyx Rising
The Delancey Brothers
Three years ago
1. Clint
2. Phoenyx
3. Clint
4. Phoenyx
5. Clint
6. Phoenyx
7. Clint
8. Phoenyx
9. Clint
10. Phoenyx
11. Clint
12. Phoenyx
13. Clint
14. Phoenyx
15. Clint
16. Phoenyx
17. Clint
18. Phoenyx
19. Clint
20. Phoenyx
21. Clint
22. Phoenyx
23. Clint
24. Phoenyx
25. Clint
26. Phoenyx
27. Clint
28. Phoenyx
After the Delancey Brothers Saga
About the Author
Phoenyx Rising
My name's Clint McRae. I took this job without realizing how hard it would be. Hard to train a stubborn girl like Phoenyx Delancey. Hard to get her all the way to the National Championships.
Hard to stay away from her.
She's got talent coming out of her ears but she's reckless and wild in the saddle. I can't tell if I want to kiss her or shake some sense into her. By the time the season is over, I'm sure I'll do a fair bit of both.
The Delancey Brothers
I decided the Delancey boys (and girl) needed an update. This is a second edition of a book I wrote in 2017. It has been significantly expanded and updated.
The rest of the boys will be coming soon!
Xoxox,
Joanna
Three years ago
Clint
“It’s too late,” I muttered, watching as the young rider I’d been training for six long, frustrating months accepted yet another blue ribbon. “I am too late to help him.”
The man standing to my right shook his head.
“You’re wrong, Clint. He’s gonna make it.”
“That kid is gonna get himself killed. He won’t listen to me. You have his head filled with too many dreams. Sponsorships. Championships. The Olympics. He rides too fast. He doesn’t maintain complete control. It is just a matter of time until he and his horse get hurt. Maybe worse than hurt.”
I stared at the team assembled there, each of them clearly eager to start drinking champagne to celebrate. Thomas was almost eighteen. Almost old enough to get out from under his handler, public relations consultants, lawyers and the sad, perpetually drunk woman who had given birth to him.
But I knew it didn’t matter. Not anymore. The boy’s natural, God given ability was a cash cow to them, and he had started to see himself that way. His talent was incredible, all natural, but his recklessness smacked of a wild animal caught in a trap, and willing to chew off his own leg to break free.
The kid hated his life, even if he didn’t know it.
“Mrs. Van Cleese. I am tendering my resignation.”
“Fine, Clint,” she said, casting a weary eye over me. “But don’t expect your bonus.”
She’d tried to lay me more than once. The lady might still be beautiful and perfectly maintained, but she left me utterly cold. Her heart was made of stone. Or ice.
No. Her heart was a diamond, polished to perfection and impossible to reach.
I wanted to tell her where to shove her bonus. The woman was already rich. She didn’t need the money her son’s riding brought in. She just needed to feel important. I supposed I could sympathize with that, on some level. Everyone needed to count. Everyone wanted to matter.
But not like this, lady. Not like this.
I turned on my heel and walked away.
I waited by the stables for him. I told him goodbye. I told him what I thought. I told him what I thought he should do. I told him I kept fervently hoping I was wrong, but I was just as sure that I wasn’t.
Just for a second, I saw a crack. Thomas’s bright blue eyes showed me something I hadn’t seen before. A flicker of fear. Regret. And then resignation.
“Thank you, Clint. You’ve been a good trainer,” he said without emotion. The kid had class, I had to give it to him. But he was dead inside. I knew it was a matter of time before he ended up drunk and sad, just like his mother.
As long as he’s alive, a voice whispered in my mind. He still has a chance as long as he’s alive.
“If you ever need anything, reach out. It doesn’t matter how big or small,” I said with a hand shake. He nodded, clearly not listening to me. Not really. “I wish you luck, kid. I wish you all the best in the world.”
“Same to you, Clint. Same to you.”
I walked away, a little piece of my heart breaking. But I couldn’t stand by and watch. If I didn’t leave now, I doubted I ever would. I sent a little prayer for the kid heavenwards and then let it go. I’d done what I could. I’d done what I had to do. Maybe, just maybe, the kid would hear my words.
But I sincerely doubted it.
Chapter One
Clint
I gnawed on the toothpick, shredding it slowly. The familiar scent of hay and horses filled the air. The sun was beating down on my hat. I leaned on the fence, staring at the outrageously beautiful girl on the horse.
Jesus Christ, I could use a smoke.
But I'd quit last year, and I wasn't giving in now, no matter how tense I was. And I was plenty tense.
It was day one of a new job. The first job since I’d walked away from it all. A new rider. And what a rider she was.
The horse in the ring skittered to the side, on edge as she ran through her routine. That move would have thrown a lesser horsewoman.
But she was not a lesser rider. There was nothing about the girl that was anything less than excellent. Her posture. Her looks. The relaxed confidence that was evident in every move she made.
Phoenyx Delancey just tossed her long red hair over her shoulder and grinned as she put the horse through his paces.
I cursed under my breath at her arrogance. Of course, I'd heard of her. I’d heard of all the Delanceys. I’d sat up and taken notice every time.
How could you not?
I'd seen her photo a dozen times, though I'd never seen the young lady in person. She had only been active a year or so, but she already had a reputation as one of the best riders in the country. Possibly the world.
I knew it.
She clearly knew it too.
Talented didn’t begin to cover it. But there was a hint of recklessness that chilled me to the core. The kind that made a rider foolish. The kind I had seen before.
But she’d trained hard. I could see it in the lines of her back, the relaxed grip she kept on the reins, and the way her hips rolled gently with every move.
It was best not to spend too much time admiring those hips, though. I was already getting fired up. Her hair and those flashing eyes were enough to do it, without even noticing the insanely feminine package below the neck.
The girl was a certified boner factory. Sex on wheels. Pretty as a ripe peach and twice as juicy.
I was pretty sure she knew that, too.
So yeah, all that talent, training, and natural ability didn't mean she was going to be a pleasure to work with. Spoiled and haughty, and born with a silver spoon in her mouth and custom boots on her cute little feet.
She had swagger alright. And talent. But she was taking needless risks as she experimented with wild variations on standard moves. You were supposed to do that on a pommel horse, not the real deal.
The woman was goin
g to get herself killed! I resisted the urge to spit. I'd given up chaw a couple years before I stopped smoking the hand rolled tobacco that had been my constant companion since high school.
But lord almighty, I could tell already that this woman was going to drive me to drink and to smoke.
Yep, I could already tell that she was going to be a handful.
Never mind the way that her worn-in jeans hugged a perfectly grabbable behind. A behind that would stop high-speed traffic. She had high round tits that bounced deliciously each time she landed on the saddle. And her long legs wrapped around that horse in a way that made my cock twitch and my pulse pound.
That long, silky red hair of hers just added to the already over-the-top feminine package. Her face was classically beautiful. Huge blue eyes, a pert nose, pouty lips that were sexy as hell and a stubborn little chin that somehow didn't detract one bit from her exceptional good looks.
She was a beauty, alright. And she knew it. Born to one of the most prestigious equestrian families in the world, she'd had it easy her whole life.
But she wasn't just a rich girl or a reckless athlete. She wasn't a flirt or a player either, from what I'd heard around. She was something even worse.
Phoenyx Delancey was a star.
And now she was my responsibility. I rubbed my eyes, wondering why the hell I had taken the job. I'd even signed the contract.
I squinted, trying to sort out what I'd been thinking at the time.
Oh right, I'd been drunk.
I was not a hard drinker, but I had my moments with the bottle. It was one of those moments, and her sweet talking manager slash attorney slash old family friend who got me into this mess. I shook my head.
JJ Ross.
I was going whump that old sonofabitch the next time I laid eyes on him. The old bastard was up to something, of that I was certain. He was overly fond of the girl, and saw her as a daughter figure, since her own daddy had passed away young.
I snorted.
Granddaughter was more like it.
At any rate, he'd been paying and I'd been drinking and here we were. Her, red headed and wild on a horse. Me, standing here trying to ignore the way her body moved around the aforementioned horse. JJ, probably sucking on a cigar and selling horses or timeshares or land.
Swamp land.
Phoenyx slid off her horse without using the block and walked it to the stables. She was gentle and respectful with the animal, which was a good sign. The first one I’d seen yet. I watched, transfixed again by the shape of her heart shaped ass. It was criminal to give a redheaded woman curves like that.
It was too much for a mortal man to bear.
I sighed and heaved myself off the fence.
"Guess you better go introduce yourself, Clint. You moron."
I ambled towards the stables in her wake, following the faint smell of her honeysuckle perfume.
Chapter Two
Phoenyx
The nerve of the man!
I walked stiffly, pounding my boots down with every step. I could not believe what was happening to me. Not again!
The cowboy with the blue bedroom eyes had actually followed me into the stables! It was one thing to watch me ride, I was used to that. Used to men making damn fools of themselves over me too!
But this was just plain rude!
He leaned against a post, chewing on a straw. He probably thought I would fall into his lap because he was so damned good looking. He was tall, with a muscular build, dark hair, chiseled face and piercing blue eyes.
Good looking was an understatement, truth be told.
But that didn't give him the right to intrude on my training!
I tossed my head, rubbing a cloth over Apollo's sweaty haunches, determined to ignore him completely. Might as well get this over with. I wasn't going to give the guy the satisfaction of knowing he was making me a little nervous.
Well, more than a little.
I was kind of like the horses in that way. I always sensed danger.
And this particular cowboy was giving me those vibes.
The dangerous kind. Not that I thought he would hurt me. But I knew he was dangerous to my equilibrium.
And he was giving off way too much heat.
"What do you want?"
He snorted and shook his head. I went back to what I was doing. Immediately, I felt his eyes on me. Specifically, on my rear end. I spun around.
"Excuse me, but spectators are not allowed in the barn."
A slow, arrogant grin lit up his face. Did I say he was good looking? The man was beyond gorgeous. I felt my knees go weak a little.
But I forced my spine even straighter.
His eyes flicked down to my bosoms and I scowled, crossing my arms over them. That just made the smug bastard grin wider!
"I'm no spectator, darlin'."
"Don't call me that!"
"Whatever suits your fancy, then." The grin fled. "I should call you a fool. You know you damn near fell off that horse about fifty times back there?”
I flipped my hair over my shoulder.
"I did not. It just looks like I did."
"Oh no darlin', I'm afraid not. Your form is sloppy. Your reflexes are dull. But-"
I was sputtering with indignation as he pushed through my protests.
"How dare you! I-"
He grinned again, leaning back against the post as if he'd been born there.
"You could be great."
My jaw dropped.
"You got some of the best natural talent I've ever seen."
I rolled my eyes in exasperation. I knew I was great. I didn't need this cowboy to tell me so.
"You have some nerve coming in here, telling me my form is bad-"
He grinned again, his eyes slipping down my body. He shook his head as if he could barely stand to look at me. Like it was almost painful.
Then he whistled.
"No darlin', I would never say your form was bad. I said it was sloppy."
He chuckled to himself, terribly amused by his own joke.
"What you need is a firm hand-"
I gasped and stifled the urge to smack him. I didn't want to cause waves. I was already getting a reputation in the equestrian world as a slapper.
I'd slapped three men last year alone.
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
He tapped his hat and winked at me.
"Me? I'm Clint McRae."
I stared at him. The name was familiar. I gasped as it clicked in I did know the name. In fact, he was one of the top trainers in the business. Come to think of it JJ had said he was getting me a new trainer after I drove the last one to drink...
Did that mean- but wait- it couldn't be-
He finally moved, all loose limbs and easy cowboy grace. But there was a purpose to his movement. An almost predatory grace.
Like a big cat about to pounce on an unsuspecting gazelle.
"I'm your new trainer."
Chapter Three
Clint
"Lesson one–"
I was speaking to her back. Her slender, strong back, covered in a slim fitting denim shirt that fit her like a glove. The wild-eyed woman was stomping away from me, too ornery to listen to reason.
"Oh, go to hell!"
I grinned, picking up my pace a bit.
"Darlin', that's not very ladylike. A professional rider must always be on her best behavior."
She turned around so fast I nearly ran into her. Her pretty little finger came out and poked my chest. Hard.
“How dare you!”
"Damn, woman. There's no need for violence!"
She poked me again. I had to admit, I kind of liked it. She was standing so close that I could have kissed her. My body responded immediately.
"I did not hire you. You are unhired. Now, go– jump in a lake!"
I laughed at the expression on her face as she tried to think up a suitably ladylike insult. I could almost see her running through a list of cuss words and deciding
not to use them. I knew she wanted to tell me to go to hell again.
But she didn't.
Good girl. She was already learning, even though I knew she would start smoking at the ears if I mentioned it. Instead I decided to stick with my original plan.
To cool her off.
She squealed as I bent down and hoisted her over my shoulder. Damn, but she felt good in my arms. Smelled good too.
Sort of like a vanilla ice cream sundae.
With… fresh strawberries.
I grinned, my hand resting on her lower back to hold her in place. I was real tempted to let it slide down a bit. Then I'd be enjoying a handful of her sweet cheeks, as well as feeling her generous bosoms pressing against my back.
I'd never lifted such a fine bit of precious cargo before, even wiggling around the way she was. She slapped at me, kicking and screaming. I ignored her and kept going.
I had a point to make.
And a wildcat to put in her place.
Her head whipped up as she realized where I was going. She started pounding on my back, wailing like a banshee.
"Don't you dare!"
I didn't falter as I slid her down off my shoulder and into my arms. I smiled down at her. Then I carefully lowered her. Right into the horse trough.
"Eeeeeeee!"
She squealed as she sank to the bottom. It had constantly running water, filtered too. So it was clean.
And cold. Real cold. Frigid really. I put another toothpick in my mouth, and stared down at her.
