Unbridled Billionaire

by Dani Wade

  That he could never do, because Kane wasn’t built for long term.

  But he was built for this. He kept things light for the rest of the meal and enjoyed it when Presley finally got her hands dirty. When they stood to leave, instead of leading the way down the aisle, Kane stepped closer. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

  Presley had gotten comfortable enough over the last thirty minutes to raise a sassy eyebrow at him. “What makes you think that?”

  Leaning toward her, he snagged a clean napkin from the stack on the table. “Because you actually have sauce on your face.”

  Her eyes widened, and she glanced around them as if someone would spot her indiscretion and judge.

  “Relax,” he admonished. “This is a rib place, after all.” Then he rubbed the outer edge of her mouth with the napkin, knowing all the while that he really wished it was his mouth on those luscious full lips.

  But it was a little too soon to press his luck. Instead he escorted her to the car and took her home like a true gentleman. No one could say he didn’t know his place—even though he didn’t always stay in it.

  After stopping in the drive close to the barn, Kane got out of the SUV. He didn’t want to take up the rest of Presley’s afternoon, especially since he would be commandeering her evening, but he really wasn’t a drop-’em-off-and-drive-away type of guy. Not waiting on him to open her door, she came around the vehicle with a hesitant look on her face. An awkward expression that asked what the heck type of response this situation called for, because she wasn’t really sure.

  Neither was he. A fact that he found intriguing. Actually, he knew what his response should be, but it wasn’t what he wanted.

  Before either of them could speak, muted shouting erupted from the vicinity of the stables. They shared a startled glance, then took off at a run.

  Kane got to the barn first, so he swept the door open for Presley to sprint through. Half a dozen men stood with a sort of agitated energy at the opening of the stall where he’d first found Presley this morning. A couple of loud thumps emanated from inside. Then Bennett spilled from the darkened doorway with the ranch hand from this morning clinging to him. Not for long, as Bennett unceremoniously dumped the man on the ground.

  Bennett stood for a minute with his hands on his hips, watching the man lie there. “There was pretty dang stupid,” he finally said.

  “What happened?” Presley asked, alerting the group to their presence.

  Kane glared when the man on the ground mumbled what he was pretty sure were some choice curse words.

  Bennett nodded at the stable hand. “Brilliant here decided to give himself another go at cleaning the mare’s hooves. Went even worse than the last time.”

  “It kicked me,” the man ground out.

  “Did you deserve it?” Presley asked. “Bennett?”

  “Sure did,” her stable manager said in a grim tone. “He took a crop to her when she wouldn’t stay still.”

  Everyone tensed. Kane felt the urge to step in, take control and give this idiot a lesson he’d never forget. Just in time, he checked himself. This wasn’t his barn. The lesson wasn’t his to give—but he would if it wasn’t properly learned this time.

  The stable hand struggled to his feet. From his movements, Kane guessed the mare had gotten him in the thigh. He was lucky she hadn’t caught his knee.

  Then the guy had to open his mouth. “Crops are for putting animals in their place.”

  Yep, he was going to be sore tomorrow...and out of a job.

  Presley stepped forward. “Here we use crops sparingly. They are for training and racing—not an instrument of punishment. As a matter of fact, the only place to find one here is in the tack room. Not this stall.”

  Oh, she was a smart one. Even Kane hadn’t caught onto that.

  “I refuse to have someone working at Macarthur Haven that I can’t trust. Boys, escort him to his truck, please.” She stared the injured man down for a moment, matching his glare and almost daring him to say anything more.

  Inside, Kane cheered.

  “You can come by tomorrow for your gear and final paycheck. Go straight to Bennett and he will supervise your visit.”

  Apparently that didn’t go over well, because the man took a halting step in her direction. He didn’t get far. Kane moved forward and blocked his path, arms crossed over his chest to display muscles from years of hard labor, an intent look on his face that dared the man to try any monkey business. Kane didn’t even have to speak.

  The stable hand immediately lost his steam. Bennett nodded at the group of men, and they ushered the now ex-employee toward the door in a tight formation that brooked no argument.

  In minutes, the trouble was under control and Presley thanked Bennett for stepping in before the situation got out of hand.

  “I just wish it hadn’t occurred at all,” he replied with a shake of his head.

  “I made my feelings over the treatment of our animals very clear this morning,” she said. “Not everyone gets it.”

  Bennett nodded. He shook Kane’s hand, then turned back toward the stall. “I’ll check her over and get her settled down.”

  Presley’s heavy sigh told Kane just how much the confrontation had taken out of her. Still... “I’m proud of you for not backing down,” he said.

  She tossed a surprised look his way, then shrugged. “It’s not the first time. Probably not the last. But it’s a shame, regardless.”

  “Does that authoritative stare come naturally, or did you have to cultivate it over the years?”

  Her smirk was sassy, sexy. “You may not know this, but if you don’t stand up for yourself in a male-dominated environment, they will assume you can’t. So I did what was necessary.”

  “I’m sure your dad was very proud.”

  Her smile flatlined instantly. “You know, that’s the first time you’ve been wrong about me.”

  Six

  Presley frowned into her rearview mirror as she tried to get her lipstick on without making a mess, for a change. Usually it took her several attempts, when she even bothered to try. Why she was doing this tonight, she wasn’t sure. She’d worn nothing but Chapstick for months now. But she did want to look better than usual tonight, even if this was a casual get-together. Thinking back to this afternoon didn’t help steady her hand, though.

  Her last words to Kane had gone too far, revealed way more than she wished. She’d never talked with anyone about her father’s disappointment in her...and he’d never displayed it openly in public. He’d reserved that for his private suggestions to wear a dress instead of pants or to spend more time at the country club than in the barn. While he’d been undeniably proud of her accomplishments, there was no doubt about his disappointment that Marjorie’s feminine tendencies hadn’t “taken” with Presley. And he had certainly never let her make any final management decisions in the stables, despite her degree and extensive experience.

  But she’d kept that secret to herself...until today.

  Had Kane seen her as just a little girl whining? He hadn’t given any indication, simply studying her for a moment before nodding slightly and turning to go. What did that mean? The man was so hard to read. He kept his reactions close to his chest, leaving her in guessing mode so that when he did let something through—like those occasional glimpses of male interest—she was left to wonder if she’d really understood what had just happened.

  The man was blackmailing her! She needed to remember that and stop looking at this like a friendship. Or even worse, a relationship.

  One thing was certain: she wasn’t getting comfortable with him any time soon. Which would probably suit him fine.

  Forcing herself to stop fiddling, Presley got out of her truck and stomped toward the front entrance of the Harrington estate. Of course, the sound wasn’t a
s satisfying when she wasn’t wearing her boots. Dang dress shoes! And the wait after she rang the bell didn’t help her mood. Her stomach churned from nerves as she stood there.

  She wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but when she heard the word party, she wanted to run. Heck, if she was ever lucky enough to get married, she’d probably elope to avoid the ceremony. Because if there was anything worse than a party, it was a party where she was supposed to be the center of attention.

  The door swung open, and Presley found herself face-to-face with Kane. His piercing gaze, combined with her thoughts about marriage, sent a flush to her cheeks. Maybe he wouldn’t notice it if she stepped in quickly.

  “Welcome, Presley.”

  His deep voice was counterbalanced with EvaMarie’s higher one as Presley scooted into the foyer. The light from the sparkling chandelier wasn’t as harsh as she’d expected, and EvaMarie’s smiling face was a welcome sight. At least she wouldn’t be the only woman here.

  “Hey, EvaMarie.”

  From directly behind her, Kane spoke. “What about me?”

  Presley hesitated, then glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, hi.”

  His half grin teased her. “That’s a bit more like it, I guess.”

  “Were you looking for something else?” Was she really flirting with her blackmailer? It kind of felt like it.

  Before she could prepare, Kane tucked an arm around her shoulders and pressed his lips against hers. Her squeak reverberated in her own ears, prompting embarrassment to wash over her. He didn’t press for more but also didn’t back down.

  Remembering that this was just business, Presley relaxed. The first sensation to sweep through her was the tingling of her lips. Then the heat where he was touching her thin silky shirt. Both spread across and down like a slow-moving burn. Just as her whole body was engulfed, he pulled back. A mere fraction. Enough for her to feel his breath across her lips.

  Then he was gone.

  The first thing she saw was EvaMarie’s wide-eyed stare. The burn in her cheeks returned. Great.

  She spent the trip downstairs trying to calm herself. Realizing she was the last to arrive didn’t help, but she saw that the only other guests were the Rogers brothers, whom she already knew well. As long as she could keep from embarrassing herself, she’d be okay.

  But then again, knowing the other guests as well as she did put her in a bit of a quandary...

  “Jake, Steven, this is Presley Macarthur.”

  “We’ve known each other since grade school,” Jake said, tipping his head at Presley in greeting.

  “Most people around here have if they live on the same side of town,” EvaMarie confessed to Kane. “Or they at least know of each other.”

  Presley nodded her own greeting, her attention distracted by the gorgeous antique pool table at the far end of the room. She quickly pulled herself back to the conversation. “How’s Princess, Steven?” she asked.

  “Good,” he said. “That trick you gave me got her back on track. Her speed is up already.”

  “What trick?” Jake demanded. “Are you holding out on me?”

  “You bet I am,” Steven said with a grin.

  The men mock argued with each other while Mason helped EvaMarie set up food and drinks on the bar. Kane once again closed in. “Are you gonna share this great trick with me?” he asked in a low voice that gave the question a whole new meaning.

  Presley tried to look him in the eyes, she really did. But those lips kept drawing her attention. “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether you can beat me at pool...”

  Did she really say that? For a second, panic pressed hard against Presley’s chest, but for once she refused to acknowledge it. If Kane was going to go all in on this Lothario routine, why make it easy for him? He certainly wasn’t cutting her any slack. And he seemed to have accepted everything he’d seen of her today—hadn’t he?

  “That sounds like a challenge,” he said, but he didn’t look put off by it. Instead, that glitter in his eye seemed to indicate...excitement?

  Would nothing go according to plan?

  “Shall we play?” Kane announced to the room as a whole.

  Presley turned to see the others watching them. Jake raised his empty glass as if in salute. “I think I’ll get a drink first. You two go ahead.”

  As Kane crossed the room to prep the table, Jake shot her a wink—he and Steven were aware of her little talent. She just hoped nerves didn’t ruin her performance.

  “EvaMarie?” she said, hope lightening her voice.

  The other woman gave a soft sigh and wrinkled her nose. “You first,” she conceded. “I’m not ashamed to admit I’m horrible.”

  “And nothing I have done has made her any better,” Mason said.

  Presley laughed as EvaMarie swatted her fiancé with a towel, then turned toward the pool table with a touch of dread. Kane waited until she got close before holding out a pool stick to her. “Ladies first.”

  Time to dance.

  At least Presley was better at this than regular dancing. Though she was confident in her abilities, she didn’t normally perform under the watchful gaze of the most striking man she’d ever met. Drawing in a deep breath, she studied the table, zeroing in on its unfamiliar surface. Let everything else fade away. Then she lined up her shot with deliberate care and let loose.

  After four successful shots, she glanced up from the far side of the table to see her audience. Jake and Steven chuckled with knowledge of the coup. Mason and EvaMarie exchanged surprised glances. Kane stood almost frozen, brows raised, his gaze trained on the table as if he couldn’t figure out what voodoo she was using to accomplish this feat.

  Four moves later, the table was clear. With each clink of the balls into the pockets, Presley felt her satisfaction grow. She didn’t often get to let her true self out, and it was even rarer for her to enjoy the experience. So this was a treat.

  Feeling every ounce of her win, she leaned against the stick and glanced Kane’s way. “Guess you won’t be finding out that trick today...”

  His half grin should have warned her. “Oh, the night isn’t over yet, sweetheart.”

  * * *

  Presley smiled as she heard Mason teasing EvaMarie over her pool-playing skills. Presley had enjoyed several games, winning her fair share, but the men had eventually poked some holes in her strategy. As usual, the opposite sex always saw a female pool player as a challenge to be faced and overcome at all odds. At least this group was friendly. Sometimes things could get ugly, which was why she was usually careful about the places she played. And whom she played with.

  But now it was time to let someone else be the center of attention—a place Presley never relished.

  Crossing back over to the bar, she surveyed the dent already made in the food and started gathering platters.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Kane said as he came up beside her. “I’ll take them upstairs for a refill.”

  “I don’t mind helping.”

  They evenly distributed the serving dishes between them and Kane led the way to the kitchen. The limestone countertop was obviously new, as were the stainless steel appliances. Really nice dark wood floors complemented the red, black and silver color scheme.

  “This kitchen is gorgeous.”

  “Thanks,” Kane said as he opened the fridge and started pulling out various containers. “It’s not just easier to cook in now, it’s a pleasure.”

  That gave her pause. “You cook?”

  “Of course.”

  She nodded, unsure how deeply she should probe into his actual home life, so she remained silent. Opening the containers and refilling platters at least gave her something to do with her hands.

  Luckily Kane volunteered more information so she didn�
��t have to endure the awkward silence much longer.

  “EvaMarie and I usually split the duties when I’m here for dinner. If I’m not here, I usually eat out. Doesn’t seem to be much point cooking for one, especially after I cooked for grown men for so many years. Mason doesn’t have the cooking gene, so I usually fed our hands back home.”

  Presley thought back to how much she’d seen the stable hands eat on various occasions. Since he’d brought up the subject, maybe she could push a little further. “Yeah, I can see how that would be a big difference. When did you learn to cook?”

  Kane refilled the homemade salsa and carefully spread tortilla chips on a platter. “I started when my mom got sick. She and my dad were gone a lot for appointments, and Mason still needed to be fed.”

  “Very few teenage boys would voluntarily take on that task.”

  “Well, I’m not gonna say we didn’t eat our fair share of frozen pizzas before I figured a few things out. But it had to be done. My mom taught me some things.”

  And he’d stepped up to the plate.

  “Dad wanted me to learn to cook,” she admitted.

  Kane tilted his head toward her. “You didn’t want to learn?”

  She barely held back a giggle. “I did try, but nothing good ever came of it.”

  “That bad?”

  “I know it’s a disgrace to admit this to an acknowledged cook, but I can’t even manage boxed macaroni and cheese.”

  “Wow,” Kane said, slowly shaking his head, but his half grin told her he wasn’t judging. “But you obviously have other talents.” He nodded toward the basement stairs. “I bet your dad was pretty proud of that.”

  Presley felt her amusement fade. “Actually, he refused to let me learn how to play pool. He said it wasn’t for girls.”

  Kane raised a brow. The story didn’t reflect well on her, but his very silence pressured her to explain.

  “He started taking me to horse shows and racing events with him not long after my mother died. But he was very protective. He brought food back to the hotel and didn’t go drinking or anything while I was with him. Well, until Marjorie came along—then it was back to staying at home until he decided I was old enough to show horses and compete myself.”