TUESDAY AFTERNOON, Erin and Andrew took their last lesson before the schooling day in a cold mist that managed to soak them through without actually forming drops of rain. Andrew rode Ricochet, the horse he would compete on while Jacquie exhibited Imperator. They’d decided not to enter the great horse as a ribbon contender, since his Olympic status meant he could only legitimately run against horses of the same caliber. That way, if he refused the jumps, he wouldn’t actually lose.
Rhys worked the kids without mercy, focusing on the dressage movements they would perform in the flat ring. By the time he dismissed them, the horses were sweating, even in the chill, and both the riders were pouting.
“Be sure to jump Mirage tomorrow, Erin,” Rhys called as she left the ring. “Briefly, just to keep him limber.”
For once, she didn’t have a smile for her instructor. “Yes, sir.”
He watched her ride to the barn with a raised eyebrow, then looked at Jacquie. “Offended, is she?”
“You weren’t exactly Mr. Congeniality.”
“Yes, that’s true. I don’t intend to be, or to train a runner-up.”
Jacquie sighed and turned away to walk toward her truck and trailer. “I’m too tired to argue with you tonight. We’ll see you Friday afternoon.”
“Jacquie—” Rhys started after her, but they both stopped in front of the barn to watch a Mercedes SUV pull through the gate, towing a massive trailer behind. Terry and the kids came to stand beside them.
She heard Rhys swear. “I meant to tell you—”
The Mercedes glided to a stop and Galen hopped out. “Good to see you, Jacquie! Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it? But the sun will be back by Friday. Rhys, I’ve brought my horses, my computer and printer, and enough clothes to see me through the weekend. Let’s get the horses settled, then I’ll set up the computer and we can get to work for real.”
Terry snorted and shook his head. “C’mon, you two. Give me a hand here. Only the good Lord knows how many animals she’s got in that bus.” Erin and Andrew followed him eagerly to the trailer, leaving Jacquie looking at Rhys.
“Galen’s staying with you?”
“She thought it would be easier than driving back and forth for these last few days. There’s a lot of work to do before Friday.”
“Smart thinking.” Jacquie turned on her heel and headed for the truck again.
He caught her arm and stopped her. “That’s all there is to it, Jacquie.”
“What you do is none of my business.” Turning her head toward the barn, she refused to look at him, even when he pulled her around to face him.
“You know better than that.”
She chopped at the air with her free hand. “I know nothing, Rhys. You played me for a fool once before. Why should this time be different?”
“Mom?” Behind her, Erin stood watching them, a puzzled look on her face and the lead rope attached to a big Thoroughbred in her hand. “Is everything okay?”
Jacquie tugged her arm free. “Sure, honey. Of course. What do you need?”
“Mirage is loaded. Do you want to go now, or can I help get these horses settled?”
“I think we need to go home.”
“Okay.” Erin’s round eyes conveyed confusion and worry, as did the fact that she didn’t argue or protest.
Jacquie saw her prediction starting to come true—her daughter was already suffering because they’d gotten involved with Rhys Lewellyn.
“I planned to invite you and Erin to stay over, as well,” he said as Erin led the horse away. “A house party, of sorts. It’s a big place. And I—we—could certainly use your help.”
Shaking her head, Jacquie again started toward her truck. “I have animals at home. And I’m not a woman of leisure—I have to work.”
Rhys stepped back. “Whatever you say. I’ll see you Friday?”
“Only if I can’t avoid you,” Jacquie grumbled, and slammed the truck door between them.
GALEN CALLED Thursday morning. “You’ve got to come over here and help me with this mess.”
Jacquie took firm hold of her willpower. “Why doesn’t Rhys help you?”
“Every time the man touches my machine, it locks up. Plus, he has about a million other details to work on—setting up stands and jumps, getting the barn ready. I know you have a Web site, so you must be fairly comfortable with a computer.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“And kids these days have to do computers in school.”
“So get Andrew to help you.”
“Ahem.” Galen paused for a moment. “Andrew decided to take the stallion for exercise yesterday afternoon while his father and I were out.”
“And…?” Jacquie blocked the idea of Rhys and Galen “out” together from her mind.
“We returned just as Andrew rode in. Needless to say, there was an explosion, followed by grounding and sulking and all the usual Sturm und Drang. So Andrew is not computer cooperative at this point.”
“Is he riding this weekend?”
“Rhys says not. No one will be riding, though, if we don’t get all these registration forms and schedules organized. Then there’s the housework—most of the ground floor rooms haven’t been used in years. I can’t supervise cleaners, caterers, the florist and the lawn service and sit at the computer. Please, I really do need your help.”
“Can you e-mail me the files?”
“Honey, I can’t. My system works with cable and Rhys, the dinosaur, only has telephones. You’re gonna have to come here.”
Jacquie could feel herself sliding down the slippery slope. “Galen, I don’t want to come to Rhys’s house.”
“Look, I know there’s something between you, and you’re struggling. But if you and Erin come, stay tonight and the weekend, you’ll be chaperoned the whole time. Two kids, Terry and me—we’ll be sure you don’t get into a…what did they call it?…a compromising situation.”
Just being within sight of Rhys was a compromising situation. She’d sworn just Tuesday that she’d never get close to him again.
And yet Mirage would benefit from an extra night in a new stall. Erin could get a good night’s sleep before she rode on Saturday. And surely, surely, Jacquie could stay out of Rhys’s way…. She found herself agreeing. “Okay. Let me make sure my neighbor can keep an eye on the other horses.” Hurry would come with them. Rhys had never minded an extra dog or two hanging around.
Galen gave an audible sigh. “Thanks so much. This will work out beautifully, you’ll see.”
Jacquie had her doubts about that. She and Erin arrived just before dinner, to find Terry and Rhys leaving the stable. Terry stared at them for a moment, his brows lowered over his eyes, then stomped into the house shaking his head.
Rhys came over as they got out of the truck. “Hi, Erin. We’ve got Mirage’s stall ready for him—number ten.”
“Thanks.” Quite recovered from her sulk after Tuesday’s lesson, Erin gave him her usual bright smile. “My mom said I could stay home from school tomorrow, Mr. Lewellyn, so anything you need done before the show, I can help with.”
“I’m glad to hear that. We’ll have plenty of work for you in the morning.” He turned to Jacquie as Erin went to unload her horse. “Even with the weird red hair, she really is a terrific kid—enthusiastic, helpful, respectful.”
“I think so.”
“Whereas my son…” His voice trailed off and he blew out a long breath.
“Has to challenge you,” Jacquie told him. “I watched my brother do the same thing with my dad. It’s part of growing up.”
He smiled wryly. “I’d like it if he didn’t kill himself or the horse in the process.” With a quick shake of his head, he seemed to throw off the problem. “Anyway, I’m really glad you agreed to come. Galen’s tearing her hair out.”
“I don’t believe you. She wouldn’t destroy that beautiful cut.” Jacquie started to get her overnight bag out of the back seat, but then decided she couldn’t bear to have Rhys there wh
ile she carried in her clothes to spend the night.
“You’re right, she wouldn’t.” Rhys laughed. “But she’s banned me from my own hearth until she gets these papers done. Your arrival will be a blessing to us both.”
Seeing that sexy grin, feeling herself warm and soften in response, Jacquie couldn’t repress a sigh. “I wouldn’t go that far. But I’ll do what I can.”
To her surprise, the awkwardness she expected from the situation didn’t materialize. Andrew took dinner in his room, removing one stress. Erin and Galen between them kept a conversation going nonstop at the table, allowing the rest of them to keep their thoughts private. Rhys and Terry disappeared into the barn after the meal, while Jacquie went to work with Galen in the gathering room, creating and printing all the different forms necessary to make the show run smoothly. Hurry and Sydney engaged in a mutual sniffing session, decided they could tolerate each other, and retired to their warms spots in front of the fire.
Jacquie was still working long after Erin fell asleep on the rug in front of the fire and was sent up to one of the guest bedrooms, and even after Galen had finally surrendered to exhaustion. The last log had burned down and all the lights in the room were still on as she sought out the remaining errors in their documents.
The outside door opened and the men tramped down the hall. She heard Terry’s muttered “g’night” and his footsteps on the stairs.
Rhys stuck his head around the doorjamb. “Is it safe to come in now?”
Yawning, she pushed back from the table, slouched in her chair, and closed her eyes. “Galen’s upstairs. I’ve caught the last of the mistakes, I think, but if not, we have at least an adequate, if not perfect, schedule to work with.”
“At two in the morning, the night before the show, I’ll definitely settle for adequate.”
She heard a log land in the fire grate, and the rustle of coals being stirred into life. “I wish I’d known. We passed adequate about midnight. We could have been in bed all this time.”
Rhys chuckled. “That is a shame.”
Jacquie kept her eyes shut, trying to pretend—to Rhys, to herself—that she took his comment at face value. This was exactly the situation Galen had promised she could avoid. The wise course would be to get up and go to her room, right this minute.
“I’m glad you don’t have to go home tonight.” His voice was low, and did nothing to restore her good sense. “I can offer you a glass of brandy with a clear conscience.”
She heard him approach, and opened her eyes as he stood in front of her. “You need to relax. Come.” He took her hand, pulled her out of the desk chair and led her to the oversize armchair near the fireplace. “Sit. Put your feet up.”
Speechless, she did as she was told. Rhys went to the drinks tray and came back with a glass in each hand, holding one out to her as he sat down on the ottoman beside her legs.
“Grand Marnier,” he said with a smile. “You liked it, that summer.”
A sip revealed she still did. “You have a good memory. I haven’t yet thanked you for the rose.”
“I was just glad the next morning not to find it on the ground where you’d parked, petals shredded and stomped into the dirt.”
“I wouldn’t do that. Erin loved hers, too.”
Head cocked in her direction, he toasted her with his drink. “You’re welcome.”
They sat silent for a while as the new log caught fire and the flames began to dance. Jacquie let herself be lulled by the liqueur, by the warmth, by Rhys himself. She was so very tired of fighting what she felt.
Finally she stirred and took the last sip, setting her snifter on the table at her shoulder. “What else do you remember from that summer?”
He braced his elbows on his knees, rolling his glass between his palms. “Mmm…the weather was hotter than usual. We invited you and the other students to use the pool once your chores were done after dinner. I looked out the window that first night and saw you standing on the side, splashing the water with just one foot. You wore a black one-piece suit. Very dull.”
“My parents wouldn’t allow two-piece suits, let alone bikinis.”
“And I thought you were the loveliest, most desirable woman I’d ever seen.”
The breath left her lungs in a rush.
“Later in the summer, you bought yourself a typical bikini. Some kind of blue, wasn’t it?”
“Aqua.”
He nodded. “But I liked the black suit. I liked knowing that I was the only man to see all of you.”
A quiver started deep inside of her, moving through her body in ever-widening waves. Get out of here, Jacquie ordered herself. This instant. She swung her legs off the side of the ottoman away from Rhys, and scooted forward in preparation for getting up.
Rhys turned to face her at that moment, so close she could see the shards of darker color in his blue eyes. He set his glass on the floor, then brought his hand to her shoulder. “You’re leaving?” His fingers trailed down her arm.
She could feel his touch through the soft wool of her sweater. “I think I’d better.”
“A good-night kiss, first?”
“Rhys—”
But then the magic started, and her chance of escape was lost. He had such a wonderful mouth, firm and smooth, inventive and tender. The orange liqueur spiced each kiss, but the true intoxication came from Rhys alone. When he moved into her, put his arms around her, pressed her back to stretch beneath him in the big chair, she didn’t resist. Didn’t want to. He was heavy in the way she’d craved for so many years, filled her arms as no one had since the last time they’d loved. The kisses went on and on and she lost herself in the wonder of his hands claiming her, pushing her sweater aside, moving over the skin of her belly and ribs. They both moaned when his palm closed over her breast.
“Jacquie.” Just her name, in his rough groan, was enough to bring her to fever pitch. She arched against him, drew him closer, slipped her knees outside his hips so they moved together in the beautiful rhythm of passion. Her fingers, clumsy and trembling, went to work on his belt buckle. Why in the world were they still clothed?
He buried his face in the curve of her neck, nibbling on the delicate cord there. Then his mouth was over her ear, his warm breath teasing, titillating. “You’re on birth control?” he whispered between kisses.
She barely heard him. “What?” Then the words penetrated her bemused brain. With them came sanity. “Stop. Please, stop.”
Rhys stiffened as he understood the desperate push at his shoulders. “Ah, Jacquie. Don’t tell me…”
“Get off. Get. Off.”
He wasn’t sure he could. His body was almost beyond his control, throbbing, pounding with the need she’d aroused in him. His hips seemed to move of their own will, pressing against her softness. And once again she yielded.
But once was all. She lay lifeless under him now, staring into his face with nothing but hurt and anger in her eyes, where only moments ago had glowed the desire he’d never forgotten.
His hands fisted, and with a curse he pushed himself up, over, away, to sit with his back to Jacquie. He felt like a randy teenager. Probably looked like one, as well, sitting here sulking.
Jacquie sat with her back to him, breathing hard. After a few moments, Rhys realized she was crying.
He turned to put his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t, Jacquie. Please don’t. It’ll be okay. I’ll leave you alone…”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said into the hands that covered her face. “You’ve ruined me again, just like the first time.”
“No, no, no. Nothing’s happened.” He took her right hand and she allowed it, but didn’t respond with any kind of pressure.
“You’ve undermined my entire life. Stolen my daughter, kept me away from my work and my own animals. Damn you, Rhys. Now you’ve made me ache all over again. I don’t know if I can stop.”
Her sobs broke his heart. “I’ll stay away from you. After this weekend—”
She pushed
at his shoulder with enough strength to make his back twist. “The damage is done, don’t you see? I survived all these years by forgetting you, forgetting everything about us as soon as I could. But when you touch me like this, when you hold me and kiss me…how can I forget? It’s all coming back, now. What am I going to do?”
On her feet again, Jacquie fled the room before he could muster the will to stop her. Her footsteps pounded up the stairs to the second floor, and Rhys heard the bedroom door shut firmly. Was it his imagination, or did he hear the turn of the lock?
And was he imagining things, or had all of his hopes for the future just shattered like a crystal glass thrown into the fireplace?
CHAPTER TEN
THE FRIDAY EVENING PARTY for the Fairfield Schooling Day proved to be a smashing success. The judges Rhys had invited from around the country had arrived that morning and were relaxing with drinks and excellent food while they enjoyed impressing all the locals with their credentials. Riders and trainers had come to meet the great Rhys Lewellyn and to talk horses, bringing along their mothers and spouses and friends for a glimpse of the house itself. Galen had opened up the big drawing rooms Rhys never used and made sure they were cleaned and polished, so everyone got their eyeful of elegance.
Jacquie drifted through the crowd, smiling at the people she knew who spoke to her, barely hearing what they said. She’d been in a daze all day, thanks to a night without sleep, which also explained why she hadn’t slipped her foot away when Pete the Percheron had put his dinner-plate-sized hoof down on her instep that afternoon. The dressy shoes she’d brought along cut right across the bruise. But at least the pain let her know she was still alive.
Andrew had refused to attend the party, since he wasn’t allowed to ride. But Erin had jumped at the opportunity to enter the world of adults, wearing a sophisticated black dress Galen had found for her on a quick shopping spree that morning, and makeup Galen had talked her into trying. With her red hair and her eyes darkened with mascara, Jacquie thought her daughter looked like a stranger.
Or, simply, like her father. At the thought, she glanced across the room and met Rhys’s gaze. His eyes darkened, and she felt her face flush as the memory of last night consumed her thoughts. She’d spent the hours when she should’ve been sleeping regretting that she had let things go so far…and wishing she hadn’t forced him to stop.
The Fake Husband Page 15
