Clint Travers had called the day before to tell Nick that they’d finally traced Lassiter. He had resurfaced. He’d been seen visiting Maxine. There was now a tail on Lassiter as well as on Daisy. The slime ball was cautious, but he’d screw up sooner or later. And Clint expected that his man would be there to nail him when he did.
As for Daisy, it had surprised Nick to learn that she’d visited his sister at the theater. The two of them were thicker than he liked at the moment. He didn’t want Daisy picking up any more family ammunition than she already had. She knew a hell of a lot more about him and his family than he did about hers. Though he had to agree he wasn’t certain he really wanted to know more about her family. He just wanted Daisy, and he didn’t give a damn about her sister or her brother-in-law.
Nick stood and stretched. Why was he so melancholy? Damn, he had a date with Daisy that night. MrShowman would be running in the seventh and they still had a shot at a claim in the fifth. He should be feeling like he was at the top of his game. Instead, he was down. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, and Mrs. B. was constantly harping on his poor eating habits. The damn woman couldn’t stop pestering him with hints of wondering when that gentle, tall, beautiful Miss Daisy would be back.
Tall and beautiful, no doubt. Gentle? No way. That damn Miss Daisy fought hard. She’d freely given him her virginity, but he wanted more, much more. And now she was fighting and clawing like a cat from hell. Nick blew on his fingernails. Well, this old Tom was more wily than most.
- o -
Repressing an urge to sing and dance, Daisy tiptoed toward the shower. What a day it had been already, and Nick would be picking her up within the hour.
Stepping into the shower, she turned on the pulsating stream of water as hot as she could stand it and reached for the soap. She soaped her breasts and belly and then each long leg, recounting the day’s events.
There was another horse in their barn. Blue Horizon, a three-year-old filly, had shown promise in two races as a two-year-old and then six more during her three-year-old campaign. Sam felt that he and Daisy could possibly improve the horse to be a decent runner in allowance races.
Daisy let the water cascade over her hair. She held her breath and then stepped out from under the water and shook her head. She grabbed a towel and began vigorously rubbing herself dry.
She grinned, thinking that Thelma had to be the happiest person at the track that day. The woman had screamed and danced when she found out that their claim had been successful. And Tom had nearly had to pry his wife away from the stable when it was time to go home. Thelma would likely become a pest, needing to know every little burp Blue Horizon made, but it would be fun having the expressive woman around more often.
Daisy reached for the blow dryer and frowned. Why couldn’t she be the free spirit Thelma appeared to be? But she was too much of a worrier. As she dried her wavy hair, she watched her breasts rise and fall with each move. Too bad Nick wasn’t there. He always enjoyed watching her shower and get ready. It gave him an opportunity to pamper her with his eyes and his fingertips, he’d say.
Her skin flushed. Well, he wasn’t here. And she had to erase those kinds of thoughts from her mind or she really would be in trouble. This was their first date, not the continuation of jumping in and out of bed like two randy rabbits. She tried to suppress a smile; she’d always been fond of bunnies.
She glanced at the clock. Damn, he’ll be here soon and I’m not even close to being ready. Quit lollygagging, girl.
Slipping on the gold dress she’d purchased at Macy’s after conferring with Angie, Daisy admired the new look. She’d decided to treat herself; she could afford it now. There should be a limit to frugality.
The dress was certainly beyond that limit. It was classy and sexy at the same time, hugging the contours of her body like a jockey riding low over a horse’s neck and withers. While the vee neck made a hint of suggestion, the mid-thigh hemline showed off her thighs and legs very nicely. A gold chain gathered the satiny material at the waist. She slipped her feet into gold pumps and pronounced herself ready for the symphony.
Daisy’s brow furrowed. Jewelry? She hadn’t bothered about going to the bank to retrieve the diamonds. The gold bracelet seemed like too much gold. She plucked the opal from the jewelry box. She latched its chain behind her neck and tucked it into the vee of her dress.
Pirouetting before the bedroom mirror, she smiled mischievously. She wasn’t ready to walk away from whatever she had with Nick, and she didn’t want him all of a sudden deciding to break things off between them. She certainly didn’t want him to forget what he was missing. Appraising herself yet another time in the mirror, she concluded he wouldn’t.
- o -
Scrunching down in his seat and sticking a leg out into the aisle, Nick released a satisfied sigh. His fingers enfolded Daisy’s hand atop the arm rest between their two seats. He looked at Daisy and grinned. With eyes rounded and posture straight, Daisy’s attention was completely fixed on the orchestra. She was so expressive. He loved to watch the music move her almost to tears, and then a smile parted her lips, and then a foot would tap lightly. Daisy couldn’t just sit there and listen—she became an instrument. She became the music. It was that spirit that enabled her to communicate with horses on a level he couldn’t totally comprehend. Her capacity for exploring sensations was what allowed her to become such a creative lover.
Had he ever been that innocently enthusiastic? She was so mature and honed by the streets that he was surprised each time he witnessed her childlike quality as she embraced new experiences without question or hesitation.
Nick squeezed her hand. When she’d met him at the door of her apartment, childhood qualities were not what had crossed his mind. She was absolutely stunning in that gold dress. He grinned, remembering. She’d been so proud that she’d selected and bought the dress on her own. He wagered that that was one of the few times she’d gone out and splurged on herself. She’d demonstrated superlative taste; he could not have done better himself. That the dress rode nearly up to her butt when she sat down was simply an added benefit for him.
Damn, he already missed what she could do to him with those fit, long legs.
Don’t go there, old buddy. This is hard enough without torturing yourself. Was she trying to torture him with her choice of apparel? He groaned, shifting his position to provide his arousal more room. Hell, it would be excruciating sitting next to her in that dress or if she’d worn a sweat suit.
Nick was startled to see Daisy rise to her feet and clap her hands loudly. Belatedly, Nick noticed that everyone around them was standing and applauding.
The conductor was bowing to the audience and inviting the musicians to stand.
“That was fantastic,” Daisy said, turning to Nick. Her eyes were shining. “Thank you for bringing me. I never thought I’d enjoy the symphony. It’s such a complete experience. You get caught up in the music whether you want to or not.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” With one hand, Nick took Daisy by the elbow and guided her up the aisle. His other hand rested low on her back. If she was bothered by this intimacy, she didn’t show it. “We’ll stop at one of the pubs nearby for a drink, and you can tell me all about it.”
They sat in a darkened corner of Henri’s sipping White Zinfindel. He was in danger of being mesmerized by Daisy’s mood swings. First, she’d chatter endlessly about the mood of the music, or the instruments she’d learned to name, or how the conductor performed like a skilled horse trainer, or the glitter of the audience. And then she’d withdraw as if she were seeking the protection of a private cave. He doubted he’d ever grow bored with this young woman so filled with mystery.
“So do you think we should do another symphony sometime?” he asked.
“Oh yes, that would be great.” She leaned back away from him. “If that’s something you’d like to do.” Daisy ran an index finger along the rim of her glass. “You know so much more about culture than I do.”
&nbs
p; “Don’t overrate that. My mom saw to it that we kids got to the performing arts. Sometimes she had to drag me kicking and screaming. Literally.”
Daisy giggled and quickly covered her mouth.
“It’s true. I guess all of that encouragement did have some effect, though it impacted Angie more than me. But at least my mother tried.”
Daisy sobered. “I don’t imagine my mother ever stepped into a symphony or a theater.”
Reaching across the small round table, Nick covered Daisy’s hand with his. “You’re a well-read young woman, Daisy. You’ve picked up more culture, as you put it, than many folks who attend the symphony or the opera or the theater or the ballet on a regular basis.”
Scowling, Daisy asked, “What do you mean by that?”
Nick cocked his head toward her. “I suppose there are many patrons of the arts who search for the kind of meaning you so evidently find. But there also those who go because they want to be seen by a certain crowd. Culture for them is something to be worn, rather than tasted and savored.” He squeezed her fingers. “You are a taster and a savorer. And I love that about you. Along with a lot of other qualities.”
Nick watched the color rise in Daisy’s cheeks. She closed her eyes as if she could block out his praise—though he expected she privately cherished his words before preparing to flee from them. That was okay. He didn’t expect to woo her in a single night. But he was planting seeds. He hoped that if he planted enough seeds, some would come to fruition.
At some point during the past week of soul searching, he’d come to the realization that one of many reasons Daisy might be unable to accept his love was that she couldn’t fathom herself loveable. He’d have to show her that what they had wasn’t all about sex. Though it might be hard to convince the woman dressed in gold of that fact if she could see the current size of his erection.
- o -
“Oh, Bear,” said Daisy, squeezing Bear to her breasts. Even with Bear, the bed didn’t feel complete. “Sometimes I don’t remember why it’s so important to have my own space.
“It was a magical night. You would have loved it. The musical instruments came to life; I thought they were making sounds just for me. And the crowd—such beautiful people.” She frowned. “Nick says a lot of them are just there to be seen. I don’t know about that. But if so, what a waste.
“Bear, I can’t believe it. Daisy Ann Matthews goes to the symphony with a handsome escort. It might as well be Daisy Ann Matthews wins the lottery.
“You know, maybe he really does love me. Could it really be?” Daisy shook her head. “Sometimes I think you’re on his side, Bear. I know there aren’t sides, but it feels that way.
“He loves me because I’m a taster,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, remembering the taste of his skin.
She clutched Bear in one hand; her other hand covered the curls at the juncture of her thighs. She brushed them lightly. Applying more pressure, she teased herself. Her breath quickened and her heart rate picked up. Abruptly, she withdrew her fingers and rolled over.
She would wait. She would wait to be with her lover. She would wait until she could taste him and he could taste her. If nothing else, she could savor the dream.
Chapter Fourteen
At four o’clock in the afternoon, Daisy made her rounds checking her charges, making sure hay-nets held enough hay, and refilling water buckets with fresh water. A groom raked the gravel alleyway in front of the Gallagher barn.
Daisy clamped the hose tight in one hand to cut off its flow while dragging it to the next stall. There she let the water rush forth, filling the next bucket. She loved this routine. While the early morning hours were precious in nearly inexplicable ways, the late afternoon feeding marked the end of a busy day. Either she or Sam would be back later to make sure the horses were safely tucked away, but this was the last prolonged interaction with them.
Of course, race days were a little different for those horses that might be running late in the afternoon. But they didn’t have any horses running on this day. She could hear the echo of the crowd as horses neared the finish line, but it seemed to come from a world far, far away. If she didn’t know better, that world and this world would appear to have little or no connection. That world was competition; this one was nurturing. That world was fast-paced; this one was slower. Yet this world of liniments, leather, hay, majestic beasts, and soft nickering wouldn’t exist without that world of excited and disappointed bettors, of proud jockeys and cantankerous owners. Both worlds shared a fondness for chasing dreams across a canvas of many defeats and fewer triumphs.
“Well, I finally found you, bitch.”
Daisy whirled at the all too familiar voice. Water splashed the dirt in front of Reggie’s feet, splattering his shining black shoes with blotches of mud.
“Shit, woman!” he bellowed. “Get that hose away from me. These are two hundred and fifty dollar shoes.”
Trying to remain casual, Daisy walked slowly to the side of the barn and turned off the faucet. She rolled up the hose, ignoring her brother-in-law’s efforts at cleaning his precious shoes. Where had he gotten the money to buy such expensive shoes? And why hadn’t he given some of that money to his wife?
Tucking his handkerchief back in his pocket, Reggie seemed to remember why he was there. He peeked in a couple of stalls before addressing Daisy. “Nice looking horseflesh. Understand you’re moving up in the world. Sort of like me.” He grinned a crooked smile.
Daisy fought back rising bile. “How did you get back here? This is a restricted area.”
Reggie laughed derisively. “You mean like your apartment. That fancy security system don’t mean shit if someone really wanted to get in. I’ve got contacts. Lookie here.” He pointed at his visitor’s badge. “See, I belong.”
The two of them would never belong in the same place, but holding her tongue, Daisy waited for Reggie to tell her why he was there.
“Yep. Nice horseflesh. I understand you own a part of some these money machines.” He sneered up at her. “You’ve been holding out on me. But,” he raised his hand as if to stop her protest, “I know you’ve been busy with Maxine and the boyfriend. I can understand you not keeping me informed of your business ventures.”
He took a menacing step forward. “But now I’m here, bitch. And I know. And I’ve figured out a nice way for you to share some of that wealth with your family.”
“Oh?” Daisy stood tall, refusing to back down.
“Yep. Your boyfriend gave me the idea. That security system he had installed.” Reggie tapped his temple. “You might say a lightbulb went on. I should’ve thought of it myself. Protection. Protection is the name of the game.”
“I don’t understand.” Daisy crossed her arms. She tried not to look around for help. Unless he actually tried to harm her physically, no one would be able to discern from a distance that she wasn’t simply having a discussion with a potential owner or an old acquaintance. If he wanted to push her around, Reggie Lassiter wouldn’t pick such a public place. He appeared much more in control of himself than usual—that was even more frightening.
“Oh, you will understand, bitch.” Reggie’s lips curled and he emitted a harsh laugh. “You might say I’m offering you insurance.” He shook his head. “No, that’s not true. I’m telling you to buy some insurance, from me, Reggie Lassiter.”
Daisy’s brow furrowed.
“Let’s make it black and white, bitch. You pay me five hundred a month, and I’ll see that nothing bad happens to these damn animals you own. If you don’t pay me,” Reggie shook his head in mocking concern, “I can’t guarantee their safety. You get the picture.”
Wishing she could rub her throbbing temples, Daisy nodded. He was blackmailing her.
“And if you think you don’t need the protection, think again, bitch. If I can get back here this easily, any scumbag can.”
Daisy closed her eyes and almost laughed. The man was ludicrous, but he was dangerous. What choice did she have? At le
ast he wouldn’t be beating on her sister. And it wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford it, at least for the time being. As long as her partnership with Nick lasted. Of course, if she didn’t have the partnership, she wouldn’t have the horses, and Reggie wouldn’t have the leverage. But he’d still have her sister.
Opening her eyes, Daisy saw a burly security man marching toward them. “Excuse me, ma’am, is this man bothering you?”
Daisy hesitated. She saw Reggie’s eyes narrow in warning and she shook her head. “No, it’s all right. He’s not bothering me.”
“I’m glad to hear that, he’s in enough trouble.” The track security officer turned to Reggie. “You’re no longer welcome here, Mr. Lassiter. I was just informed to escort you off the premises.”
“On whose orders? I’ve got clearance.” Reggie backed away and the security officer placed a hand on Reggie’s shoulder.
“Let’s not make a scene, Mr. Lassiter. I’m just following orders. Your clearance has been revoked.”
“Who says?” Reggie clinched his fists.
“I say. And my two colleagues coming up from behind you agree with me.” Reggie turned his head sharply and groaned.
“Now, let’s go along quietly. We don’t want to scare the young lady or the horses. Both can be temperamental, you know.”
Daisy decided not to take umbrage at the man’s poor sense of humor. She liked the idea of Reggie being escorted off the grounds, though she knew that wouldn’t reduce the risk to her horses.
“Okay, you win,” Reggie said to the officer and then spun toward Daisy. “You remember what I said, I’ll expect to hear from you the first of the month. Don’t be late.”
Daisy watched her brother-in-law being led away between two security officers. It was uncanny that they had come along when they did. And who had tipped off the track office about Reggie? Had they really banned him from the premises?
Willow Smoke (Riders Up Book 3) Page 22
