Kentucky Bride

by Jan Scarbrough

  into the gated property.

  What awed Aimee was the fact she was going to the party at all—something she had resisted for months—and going with a man she’d once thought she loved.

  Aimee felt a twinge of double-edged anxiety. She tried to smother her misgivings and draw on all the courage she could muster, but it was proving hard.

  Cam sat quietly on the seat next to her wearing a tailored black tuxedo. Aimee glanced at his classic profile silhouetted against the tinted window—his firm chin, high cheekbones and straight nose, his luscious brown hair curling over his ears. They had not spoken much in the hour-long journey from Louisville, or in the equally long limo ride.

  This was, after all, a business trip for Cam. He wanted her to soothe her mother’s frayed nerves so she could then focus on training and showing his horse.

  “You look lovely,” Cam said, turning his head slightly to gaze at her.

  “Thanks.” She didn’t know how to take his praise. She didn’t want to be flattered by it or acknowledge this might be more than a business trip.

  Her fluttering insides told her that. So did her vivid imagination that strayed uncontrollably back and forth from memories of their brief, but hot affair, to equally uncontrolled longings for a second chance at getting him in bed.

  No! Sitting in enclosed, intimate spaces with a very virile man did strange things to her equilibrium. Was it the spicy but earthy scent of aftershave that heightened her sex drive? Or was it his thigh pressed against hers?

  Self-consciously, Aimee tugged at the hem of her skimpy cocktail dress. It hardly made it over that thigh she was thinking about.

  “I’m glad you agreed to come,” he said, his deep voice soft and gentle.

  “We’ll see.” That’s the only concession she was willing to make.

  “You’ll find out you’re doing the right thing.”

  Anger spiked. She didn’t want to talk about her family with him. “Look, you don’t know anything about this. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  He took her hand, turning it over and holding it palm up. “You will have to pretend to like me, you know,” he stated nonchalantly, off-handedly, as if it was an afterthought. He sketched a circle with his fingertip on her palm.

  She pulled her hand away. “I know.”

  “I won’t be pretending.”

  Aimee’s anti-male antennae went up. A sixth sense told her something was not right with this picture. Cam had not come on strong until now. Maybe he meant what he said. Maybe he carried the torch. She remembered he had taken their breakup hard. Still that was six years ago. She’d learned from more than one bad experience after that not to trust men, especially ones needing money. Why was it men were never interested in her for herself?

  She gazed into Cam’s brown eyes, trying to read them, searching for something that made sense to her about this ridiculous situation she found herself in.

  The limo came to a stop in the driveway at the foot of a bank of wide stone steps that led to the entrance of the mansion. An attendant pulled open the side door next to Cam.

  “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing her hand again as he climbed out.

  Aimee slid across the seat, aware of her body-hugging dress riding up her thighs. At the edge of the seat, she swung her bare legs out, letting her spiky black pumps touch the pavement all the while properly keeping her knees together. She snatched her hand away again and tugged at the hem of her dress before standing without Cam’s help.

  She straightened, eye-to-eye with him. They were so close. Strange electricity traveled between them. Was this sexual chemistry? It had to be just her sex-deprived body responding to his.

  “Don’t resist me, Aimee,” he said, grabbing her hand once more.

  She licked her lips, staring at him, all the confidence she possessed in other situations slipping away like a bad ride. Suddenly she longed for the horsey aroma of the barn and the gravely voice of Jimmy snapping orders at her.

  Cam tucked her hand under his arm when she didn’t respond. “We should go in.”

  They walked together up the steps toward the door, Aimee vitally aware of the lie she was about to tell her parents and the man at her side who made the telling possible.

  Cam had never known the clean scent of lavender to smell as heavenly as it did wafting from Aimee’s body. It clung to her sexy, black dress and her long blond hair, making him almost forget his niggling conscience or his true purpose for being here with her tonight.

  Something about Aimee made him want to help her. Whether she realized it or not, he was doing her a favor. He had meant it what he said her about her mother. He had learned the hard way never to take his only parent for granted. Whatever Aimee thought about her mother, she shouldn’t take hers for granted either.

  Answered by a tuxedo-clad butler, the door opened inward onto a marble-floored foyer flanked by twin staircases with ornate wrought-iron and brass railings. The entry ran straight through the house, giving them a view of Lake Michigan at the other end of the corridor.

  Aimee’s mother suddenly materialized from a side door and rushed toward them. Cam knew it had to be Aimee’s mother because Ray Elliott was not far behind.

  “Aimee, let me look at you!” Mrs. Elliott squealed and wrapped her daughter into a throat-choking hug. They were the same height, and her mother had the same blond hair probably from a bottle. She was plump and matronly as his mother had gotten over the years, but from his first impression, she seemed to be a loving, if over-protective, mother.

  Mrs. Elliott drew back, still holding her only child by the shoulders. “Are you getting enough sleep? Your eyes have circles under them. Are you tired?”

  No wonder Aimee avoided coming home. Cam could guess the scrutiny she was under every moment. He doubted he could stand to be smothered either.

  “Brennan?”

  Elliott had noticed him. “Yes, sir,” Cam acknowledged, extending his hand.

  The older man clasped it, drawing him aside while the two women talked. “What are you doing here?”

  “You wanted me to keep an eye on your daughter,” Cam replied with a direct gaze. “I found out where she was working and encouraged her to come see her mother.”

  Elliott’s bushy eyebrows rose and then drew together over narrowing eyes. “I won’t question your motives, but if you’re the one who brought my daughter to this god-awful event, you have my thanks.”

  But you’re suspicious just the same. Cam nodded. “I knew you were concerned.”

  Mrs. Elliott turned to evaluate him. “Who’s the nice-looking young man, Aimee?”

  Cam stepped forward, in part to extract himself from the awkwardness of being quizzed by Elliott. “I’m Camden Brenna, Mrs. Elliott,” he said, offering his hand. “Aimee and I recently started dating.”

  She shook his hand, giving him a once over, her eyes widening with what he hoped was approval. “Aimee never mentioned you, but then again, my daughter would rather talk to a horse than her own mother.”

  “Mom!” Aimee’s face flamed red.

  Cam felt sorry for her. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled him toward him in a conscious show of support. Contact with her bare skin shocked him, causing a flare of desire. He tugged her closer. His next response was even more shocking. For some odd reason, he wanted to protect her from her parents.

  “I wanted you to meet Mark Renfro again,” Mrs. Elliott said with an oozing whine of disappointment in her voice.

  “I’ve known Mark for years, and you know I can’t stand him,” Aimee protested.

  Cam felt Aimee tense. She was frowning.

  “Watch what you say,” her mother warned in a loud hiss. “Here comes his aunt. Be gracious.” She pivoted and went toward the approaching hostess. “Helen, my daughter has arrived!”

  “I see that, Martha, honey. You must be tickled pink.”

  “Aimee has brought Mr. Brennan with her.” Helen Renfro glanced back and smiled.

  Introductions wer
e made with Aimee still safely tucked in Cam’s protective embrace. Then the group moved toward the solarium where guests drank cocktails and nibbled on tiny canapés of grilled salmon and lobster.

  “You can unhand me now,” Aimee said between clenched teeth and then smiled at a matronly guest.

  “I like having you in my arms,” Cam said just to gauge her reaction.

  She wiggled free. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” she stated. “But don’t get any ideas.”

  “You’ve got me all wrong, Aimee.”

  He could tell she didn’t buy his innocent look.

  “I believed what you said about coming here, but I don’t want any of this physical stuff. Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Brennan.”

  He cocked his head, giving her a sheepish look. “I remember when you didn’t want me to keep my hands to myself.”

  Her cheeks flamed again for other reasons besides embarrassment. She set her jaw and glared at him. “Don’t fool yourself, buster. Not every girl is swept away by your charms.”

  “So much the pity.” He shrugged and reached for two glasses of red wine from a passing waiter. Handing one to her, he then took a sip. He couldn’t keep the smile from his lips as he gazed at her over the rim of the wine glass.

  He had nice eyes and a to-die-for smile. Aimee blinked and glanced away, trying to ignore the waves of sensation washing over her. Coming to this party was a total mistake even though it had already made her mother beam with happiness.

  Cam had urged her not to take her mother for granted. She didn’t. It was just that she’d spent so many years in the vain attempt of trying to make her mother happy that she rejected the burden today. It was tough being an only child, but it was even tougher being the only child to live in a set of twins. After her brother’s death during childbirth, the responsibility for her mother’s happiness had fallen solely on her tiny shoulders.

  She sipped the wine, hoping the biting liquid wouldn’t go to her head. Maybe it would be better if it did, she thought shamelessly. Maybe she needed the release of mind-numbing alcohol after the stress she’d been under at work lately.

  Who was she kidding? Aimee looked back at Cam who was still ogling her. The release of mind-numbing sex would be more fulfilling.

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  She blushed once more. Her face felt hot. “None of your business!”

  He laughed at her again using only his eyes, casting a knowing look as if he knew darn well what she’d been thinking. That was not the right reaction.

  “Aimee, you must meet my very best friend,” her mother said, coming up to them. “Come with us, Mr. Brennan.”

  “Cam,” he corrected.

  “You’ll enjoy Georgette and her husband. Did I tell you she’s my dear friend?”

  Sometime Aimee would tell Cam that everyone was her mother’s best friend.

  Later they sat down with the twenty other guests to a dinner of French style steak au poivre, pommes gallette, and roasted vegetables. It was elegant dining with rich food that settled uncomfortably in her stomach, but such affairs were nothing new to Aimee, who had been raised on them. She wondered about Cam’s background, knowing from their earlier relationship that he was adopted. But she didn’t know much more about him except that he ran his stepfather’s company. Why was she suddenly itching to know more about her new customer? That wasn’t a good sign.

  Aimee eyed him over a bite of potatoes only to find him assessing her with his gaze. Something inside her stomach skipped as they connected once more. His eyes promised what she wanted. Bedroom eyes, she thought. But it was too soon to be thinking that, and what’s more, she didn’t want to think it. Or feel it. Damn him! Why had he come back into her life again anyway?

  Aimee recalled that question when, three hours later, she and Cam stood on the steps of the Renfro mansion, darkness surrounding them. Her father stood silently behind her mother, looking down his nose at her as if she’d done nothing to please him by coming all the way to Chicago. Her mother was agape with happiness, chattering inanely about the lovely time she’d had because of their visit.

  “I am so glad you came, Aimee, dear,” her mother bubbled.

  “Thank, Cam, mother,” she said, glancing at her escort, “His company plane made it possible for us to come and for me to be back at work tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh, Cam, you have my undying gratitude. You can’t guess how important our little girl is to us.”

  Cam grinned. “I have a slight idea, Mrs. Elliott.”

  “Oh, go on, you’re teasing me.” Mother swatted his sleeve playfully.

  “I almost lost my mother to breast cancer,” Cam said. “I know how important families are.”

  Aimee saw the hard look around the corners of her father’s mouth soften. He approved. Her mother did too, for she gave Cam a farewell hug. “You bring my little girl back to Chicago any time, Cam, darling.”

  “Good bye, Mother.” Aimee kissed her mother’s cheek and gave her a huge hug. Cam may be right. Her mother’s shoulders felt less substantial than she recalled. Her mother was getting old. She had to remember not to let her fear of failure overcome her true sense of duty to her parents. After all, they had given her the world when they let her take the first riding lesson years ago.

  “Now that wasn’t so bad,” Cam said once they were back in the limo and pulling away from the estate.

  Aimee rested her head on the back of the seat and shut her eyes. “No, it wasn’t so bad.”

  “I think your parents bought it that we were dating. Maybe that will keep your mother happy for a while.”

  Aimee shrugged. “She won’t be satisfied until I have a big, fancy society wedding and marry a wealthy man of the right social standing.”

  “I guess a hick from Kentucky wouldn’t do.”

  Aimee opened her eyes and glanced at Cam. He heart softened toward him. She reached over and patted his sleeve. “Don’t feel so bad. My career isn’t on her list of proper occupations either.”

  He covered her hand with his. “You know, that doesn’t matter too much to me. I don’t go in for all this society stuff.”

  Cam kissed her then, lifting his hand from hers and cupping her cheek. His lips were warm and gentle, not the demanding, hungry lips of six years ago. They both had grown up. There wasn’t a frantic quality in their relationship now. They were employer and employee. He was her customer. She had a job to do for him. This wasn’t proper, but oh, so very welcome.

  Aimee lost herself in his kiss, letting her eyes drift shut and her senses ring with delight. Damn! This was good. She’d forgotten how good. Her girlfriends were right. She needed to date again. If she didn’t want to be alone for the rest of her life, she had to take another chance.

  “Thank you,” she said when their lips finally parted.

  “What? For the kiss? I’ll gladly do it again.” He gave her mischievous grin.

  “No, for bringing me tonight.”

  “My pleasure.”

  He put his arm around her shoulder and she snuggled against him. They sat like that, not speaking, all the way to the airport.

  Chapter Six

  The Rock Creek Horse Show

  Louisville, Kentucky

  Every spring, the Rock Creek Riding Club, a nationally prominent American Saddlebred stable, hosted one of the most prestigious horse shows of the season. With booths selling corn dogs and lemon shakeups, the country fair atmosphere was popular with horse people and general spectators alike.

  Aimee had not seen Cam since early Sunday morning when the corporate jet had landed at Standiford Field in Louisville. They had gone their separate ways without the awkwardness of another kiss, and Aimee had been too busy to think about him during the next five days. Jimmy had six horses showing at Rock Creek, which meant she had to help get each one ready to be shipped and then care for each of them at the show.

  Of the three to four hundred horses attending the show, most were stabled in temporary stalls
covered by huge tents. The structures filled the normal parking area in front of the historic clubhouse, providing adequate security and cover when the show’s notorious rain showers hit. Each stable decorated its space with its barn colors. Many added potted plants for color and a seating area for customers.

  Toady had decorated Jimmy’s area with his colors of forest green and navy blue. The floor of their seating area was covered with cedar shavings, and it was located at the end of the shed row under an awning. She had placed four directors’ chairs around a large black tack trunk along with several pots of red geraniums.

  On Friday evening, Aimee was sitting on one of the directors’ chairs letting Toady pin up her hair into a bun when she saw Cam again.

  He strode toward them wearing white linen trousers, a navy-and white-striped jacket and a blue-and-white-striped shirt with a white color, and brown shoes. He looked as if he’d stepped from the pages of GQ, but he had the height and good looks to carry it off. Cam certainly turned a lot of heads, and hers wasn’t the exception.

  “So you’re going to watch our girl ride,” Toady said by way of greeting.

  Cam grinned. “That’s my plan. I just had the buffet dinner at the club house and I’m ready to whoop and holler when you make that victory pass.”

  Aimee found herself warming to the sound of his voice, his enthusiasm, and the way he smiled down at her as if to say they shared a special secret. Were a kiss and an intimate ride in the back of a limo enough to make her feel so lightheaded?

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Aimee’s voice caught slightly. “I hope Wedded Bliss and I don’t disappoint you.”

  “I don’t think you could ever disappoint me,” he said in a deep, suggestive voice.

  Toady pulled her hair, probably as startled by those bedroom eyes and sexy voice as she was.