“Did he?”
“Depends on what you mean by a big horse. He never made it to a Triple Crown race—never expected to. But he felt he raised a good stakes contender in Cassie’s Hope. That was good enough for him. After her, and after I returned to training full-time, he agreed to buy better quality horses because he knew his time was running out, and he felt I deserved to work with more horses who could compete at higher levels.”
“Maybe that’s Daisy’s hang up,” Nick offered. “She may think we’re just buying a winner. But we all know that even top sales horses often fail to win back their purchase price. It’s a gamble. A big one.”
“That you’re able to take. That she can’t. Daisy has to question her role in all of this. You buy a horse, and no matter what the cost, she picks up a nice percentage. How does she earn that? Maybe she feels a little like a kept woman.”
“Daisy? Kept?” Nick leaned forward. “I don’t think so. She’s the brains of this outfit, and its backbone. She provides the labor and the savvy. She’s got to know I’m not trying to buy her.”
“Aren’t you? Are you afraid she won’t want to hang around with a slightly balding, forty something fellow, if you can’t buy her expensive horses to play with?”
“No! That’s not the way it is.” Nick’s windpipe constricted. He massaged his diaphragm. “She can’t think that.”
“Why not?” Cassie’s pupils flashed warning signals. “In her world, everything is bought and paid for one way or another, including women. They might be whores that pimps manage. Or they might be more glamorous arm candy for guys who can afford to pay much more. But they’re still bought.”
Nick’s mind exploded. Was he actually using Willow? Was she a willing partner? Had he bought her like a piece of meat? Surely, she could walk away from him if she wanted to. But could she? Really? Had he cut off her escape by feeding into her love of horses? He closed his eyes, trying to avoid some of the accusing answers.
“I know you don’t want to hurt Daisy.” Cassie’s voice was soft. “But how will you avoid it?”
“Marry her,” he blurted out.
“It takes two people to do that. Last I noticed, Daisy doesn’t exactly see herself as the future Mrs. Underwood playing hostess to the business world. I expect that scares the hell out of her, if she even allows herself to fantasize about it. You don’t live in a cocoon, Nick. Even if you can’t see that, you can count on Daisy being aware of it. You bring a lot of trappings with you. I expect most women you’ve known were bedazzled by all the glitter you bring with—but not Daisy. Have you met her family yet?”
“No.”
“I’m not surprised. That’s likely intentional.” Cassie paused. “You scare her, you know. Maybe you should be a little more afraid of her.” Cassie rose, picked up her purse and headed toward the ladies room.
Nick remained alone at the table. He shut out Daisy’s friend’s words by turning his attention to the strains of Mack the Knife. He didn’t want a relationship with any woman to be based on fear. On that point, Cassie Travers was absolutely wrong. Daisy might be hesitant about his money and his age, but she wasn’t afraid of him. And her family didn’t matter to him one iota. And if it took some money to make her relatives happy, so be it. His first wife hadn’t come and gone without costing him a sizeable sum of money. He lifted his glass and drained it. Setting it back down on the table, he grinned thinly. Women were costly. Period.
- o -
Daisy looked up from her reading, not that she’d turned a page in the last half hour, to notice Nick watching her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window of the top floor suite they shared overlooking the Lexington skyline. Why did the man have to be so stupidly rich?
She regretted her strong words in the bar. Cassie had helped her realize that underneath a lot of bravado, Nick was just as anxious about the two of them as she was. Maybe in different ways. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him. And now they had to clear the air. He would choose to ignore the friction and go on as if nothing had happened. She couldn’t let that happen. The pain ahead of them was inevitable without permitting wounds to fester.
She cleared her throat. He turned to look directly at her. His passion simmered behind an uncharacteristic guardedness. She could go to bed and make up with him, but she wouldn’t allow herself to fall into that trap.
“We’ve got to talk, you know,” Daisy said quietly.
Nick raised his chin. “Somehow I thought you would say that.” He folded his arms at his chest and leaned back against the window. “So what’s on your mind?”
Only twelve feet separated them, but it might as well have been twelve miles. “I shouldn’t have said what I did in front of Clint and Cassie. I didn’t mean to embarrass you or hurt you.”
“I’ll get over it.”
“Why do you have to continue buying me things?”
Nick took a step closer. “Why can’t you just accept things?” he demanded. He retreated to the window. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve gone through a lot of changes in a short time.”
“Gone through?” Daisy huffed. “Stuck in. Maybe going through. But hardly gone through.” She stood, tugged the sash of her robe tighter, and swept hair back from her face. She placed her book on the end table and moved to the window. With four feet separating them, she stared out at the city lights. At last she said, “Why do you have to keep buying me pieces of horses?”
His eyes appraised her while he took his time to respond. At least he wasn’t going to give a pat answer.
“I’m coming to understand how much that bothers you. As crazy as it may sound, I wanted you to own part of Hip sixty-four because it’s the way I do business. Clearly, you’ve done more thinking about it than me. Even Clint says many owners want their trainers to own a percentage.”
“But twenty percent!”
“If that’s too much, we can talk about it. I’m not trying to buy you, Daisy. You’ve got to know that.”
Daisy shivered against the cool of the window. “In my heart, I know that, but it still doesn’t feel right. And what must others think?”
“Others be damned.”
Glaring hard at Nick, Daisy said, “See? You don’t understand. The track is my world. What do other trainers think? What does Sam really think? You come marching in like some fairy godfather and turn my world upside down. It matters to me what others think.”
Nick pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose and exhaled. “Okay. It matters. But to me, what you think matters most. So if twenty percent is too much, we can cut it back. How’s fifteen? Ten? Damn, what you contribute to this partnership is at least worth that.”
Daisy’s mouth curled upward. “Sometimes I think you’re just too naïve about what I can and cannot do.” She hesitated before reaching out enclosing his hand in hers. “But I do appreciate your confidence and your willingness to listen to what I have to say. If you insist on keeping me in the horse partnership, then maybe we can do something like this...”
“We’re not changing what’s already done.”
She squeezed his fingers. “Hear me out. We won’t change what already is. But in the future, on claimers I’ll accept ten percent. On any purchases over a hundred thousand, the most I’ll take is five percent. Even that seems like far too much.”
“Nonsense. I couldn’t get those horses to the track without you.”
“You and I both know you could get any trainer on shedrow to work with your horses, Mr. Underwood.”
“Maybe, but it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.”
She arched her eyebrows.
“And I don’t mean the bed,” he added quickly. “How many trainers are going to spend the time with me to teach me the ins and outs of the horse business? Half of them would probably like to keep me ignorant so I won’t interfere.”
“You’re probably right about that. A lot of trainers won’t tolerate owner interference.”
“Yeah. I won’t be part of something I can’t interfere with
if I’m putting up the dollars. So you see, you’re worth every percentage point you have in a horse.”
She opened her mouth to speak. He pressed a finger against her lips. “You’re my ticket to knowledge about this business. You protect me from getting duped.” He sighed deeply. “Oh hell. I concede to your desire to lower your percentage of ownership in future purchases, but are you aware that I’m not buying your favors by including you in this horse partnership?”
“My favors,” she said. Was it her heartbeat or his that sounded like dynamite exploding? She’d pled her case and he’d listened. How many men would do that? A part of her warmed, recognizing the truth of his words. He wasn’t trying to trap her. Hopefully, she’d feel less trapped. But she still wanted him to spell it out, so she gave him a quizzical frown.
“Favors. You know. Shit. Maybe there is something to generational differences. Dammit, I’m not buying you horses so you’ll have sex with me.”
Daisy giggled. “I never thought you were. I thought you were after more than sex. That’s what scared me.”
Nick turned several shades of purple. He opened his mouth to speak and then snapped it shut. Whatever he wanted to say went unsaid. She expected that was best. She knew they needed to talk, but not about everything. Not all at once. She wanted more time with him, much more time.
“Speaking of favors,” she whispered, huskily, “I’m kind of in the mood for distributing favors, if you’re receptive.”
“Oh, I think I can be talked into that.” He lifted her chin with a finger. “You know you can be quite the salesperson when you want to be. I thought that’s what I brought to this partnership.”
Daisy leaned forward and brushed her lips lightly across his. “As part of the younger generation, I’m still learning and developing.” She took a step back from him, untied the knot at her waist and shrugged her shoulders. Her robe pooled at her feet. “So what do you think, partner? If I’m getting less money, I’ll need more loving to keep everything equal.”
- o -
“Now why didn’t I think of that,” Nick said gruffly, pulling Daisy into his arms.
His spirits soared. He hadn’t lost her. They’d weathered the storm. Daisy slid a hand inside his robe and ran her fingers down his spine to his buttocks. He crushed his mouth against hers. The pent up sparks that had separated them now joined them.
She broke their kiss and led him toward the king sized bed. His robe joined hers on the floor.
Quickly, she became the aggressor. He did nothing to dissuade her. She wanted him; that was all that mattered. He watched her corn silk hair bobbing between his legs. Her warmth threatened to undo him.
She stopped. “Damn girl, are you trying to kill me?” He lifted his pelvis, pleading for more.
She ignored his pleas and dropped him from her mouth. Bereft, Nick shut his eyes and tried not to swear. She was in charge, and that was the way it should be. She moved to straddle him. He opened his eyes to meet her smoky stare. With her eyes locked on his, she slid forward and lowered herself onto the tip of his shaft. There she remained suspended—attached but aloof. She tossed her head from side to side and her blond hair flew about like a child’s kite on the end of string. Never taking her eyes off his, she toyed with a nipple of one breast and then the other. When had she become such an accomplished tease?
Nick used every ounce of self-control available not to grab her hips and seat himself firmly in her liquid chamber. She was ready; her moisture dripped his entire length. Yet she waited, boldly challenging him to take over. He refused to do so.
She fluffed the curls at the top of her mound. She flicked her tongue at him. He could feel her fingers touching her, touching him. He loved to watch her discover her own responses as well as his. Her breathing became shallow; she gnawed on her lower lip. Nick waited, trying not to twitch a muscle. The pantomime unfolding before him was too precious to disturb. Daisy’s eyes drifted shut; he was sure she couldn’t wait much longer.
And then as if at last gravity prevailed, she slammed to his groin and swiftly rose and fell until her mouth contorted. Clearly she was in that place where pain and joy joined into a kind of holy ecstasy. She whimpered and leaned forward, clasping the hair on his chest, running her tongue along the crease of his neck.
Needing to delay no longer, Nick levered his thighs upward, rapidly finding his own release. His brain spun like a top. He waited for it to settle while hugging Daisy’s body tight against his own. She might not be ready to talk about a long run future, but there was no way he could ever give this woman up to her demons or to his own. They would make it work.
She breathed evenly against his shoulder. It had been a difficult day for Daisy and a tense evening. She deserved to sleep. Nick closed his eyes and slid a palm down her back. There was no need to shift his weight, because she snuggled better than a down comforter on a cold wintry night.
- o -
“Oh my God!” Daisy flipped her cell phone off and with shaking fingers placed it back on the breakfast table. Her wide misty eyes caught Cassie’s. Daisy’s hands covered her mouth.
“What is it, Daisy? What’s happened?”
Daisy shook her head.
“Is it Maxine?”
Daisy nodded and whimpered, “Yes.”
Cassie pushed back her chair to kneel by Daisy and rub her arm. From his chair next to Daisy’s, Nick leaned over and massaged her rigid neck muscles.
“How bad is it?” Cassie asked softly.
“Bad.” Daisy looked at her friend and stand-in mom through watery eyes. “She may not make it.” Gulping for air, Daisy added, “That was Reggie. The story is Maxine was mugged last night. She’s at Cook County Hospital. She has a ruptured spleen, a broken arm, a severe concussion.”
“Sounds like Reggie did a number on her this time.”
Daisy nodded, trying not to feel. She had to get back to Chicago. Reality crushed any more storybook fantasies. Nick had heard everything and could easily fill in the blanks.
“I’ve got to go.” Daisy focused on Cassie, not wanting to see what expression might be on Nick’s face. “Can you help me get a plane?”
“Of course I will. I’m so sorry, Daisy, but there was no way you could protect her forever.”
Daisy nodded. Nick withdrew his hand. The end would come as quickly as the beginning. She closed her eyes and tried not to pay attention to him. He was punching numbers into his cell phone.
“Cindy? This is an emergency. I need a private jet at the Lexington Airport as soon as possible. If one is here, fine. If not, get one from the nearest airport. Make the arrangements. There will be two passengers.”
“Make that four,” Cassie interrupted after catching Clint’s eye.
“Cindy, make that four passengers to Chicago Midway. That’s the closest airport to Cook County. Do whatever it takes to clear our landing. Call me on the cell when you have things confirmed. We’ll be heading to the airport shortly. Thanks.”
Daisy stared at Nick. Her lower lip trembled. Her body shook. She allowed him to gather her in his arms. Her ears did not lie, but she still had difficulty believing.
He rubbed her back. “I’m sorry, Daisy. We’ll get there as soon as humanly possible. I wish I could say everything will be okay. But no matter what, we’ll be there with you.”
“I’m scared,” Daisy managed to mumble against his shoulder.
“I know. You have every right to be.”
She pushed back from him and ran her fingers across his cheek. Struggling for words, she managed, “I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me after learning about Maxine and Reggie. He’s a real lowlife. And,” she whimpered, “Maxine isn’t much better. But they’re all I’ve got.”
Nick chuckled in her hair. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’ve got a lot of people who love you. Cassie, Clint, Sam, Thelma and Tom, and me.”
“But they’ll come after your money,” she wailed.
“They might try, but it won’t do them a
ny good. Remember, we’ve got Thelma in our corner, and she can handle just about anybody.”
Daisy snickered at the image of Thelma taking on Reggie. She’d put her money on Thelma in a fair contest between the two, but then Reggie would never fight fair.
“We’d best be on our way. By the time we pack and get to the airport, Cindy will have a jet waiting for us.”
“But what about Hip one-thirty-two? You wanted to bid on him.”
Nick scowled at Daisy and stood to pull her chair back from the table. “Who’s always telling me there will be another horse and another race? Horses are important, but not as important as family.”
Chapter Eleven
Sterile. Daisy had never been in an intensive care room before. Scrubbing and putting on a hospital gown over her clothes before entering Maxine’s room had only heightened her anxiety.
“These are precautions,” the nurse said, trying her best to answer Daisy’s questions. “The doctor will be by later this afternoon. Your sister is holding her own. She’s a fighter.”
Daisy nodded. She held Maxine’s fingers in her hand while doing her best to ignore the tubes and monitoring cables that formed a massive complex of lines to and from her body. Lights blinked on four machines. The intermittent beeps mesmerized only to be broken by occasional ragged breaths her sister made around the tube stuck down her throat. Cleaning detergent odors mingled with those of the human body to assault the senses. Daisy nearly gagged on the metallic taste encrusting her tongue.
“Five more minutes,” the nurse instructed. “You can talk to her. She may be able to hear you; we’re never certain. The doctor doesn’t want to rush her because her body needs this time to heal. I know she’ll be pleased that you’re here, so I’ll leave you be for a few minutes.”
Daisy listened to the nurse’s retreating footsteps. She tried to sort out what had happened to Maxine. “Ah, Maxine,” she whispered. “Why can’t you let him go? I’m so sorry. Life shouldn’t be this hard for anyone. I’m here now. You’re going to be okay.”
Willow Smoke Page 17
