Unbridled Billionaire

by Dani Wade

  She dipped a chip and chewed while she thought back on those times. “One day he left me with one of the newer guys while he went to negotiate the purchase of a horse. The man ordered some takeout food from a local bar. It was the middle of the day, and I got to watch people playing pool while we waited. To my dad’s dismay, I was fascinated...”

  Again, with the half grin. Why did that look on Kane’s face have to be so sexy? “Did the employee get fired?” he asked.

  “Close,” she remembered. “I think the thing that saved him was he was a young guy who had never dealt with kids before then. And he explained that he’d been afraid to leave me alone while he went for the food.”

  “Sounds reasonable.”

  “My dad rarely was reasonable when it came to me. But from then on, billiards, as he called it, was a forbidden subject.”

  “But you’re damn good at it.”

  She gave a rueful grin. “I learned to play while I was at college—actually took a class. Some of my fellow students started including me in trips to the local pool hall. My dad would have killed me if he saw the place.”

  “I bet.”

  “But it sure was fun.”

  “And you’re fun to watch. He missed out.”

  Presley didn’t want to think about that. She’d loved her dad more than anything. Why had he refused to accept so much about her?

  “Ready to take this stuff down?” she asked, changing the subject.

  Kane laid his hand over hers on the platter. “I’m serious, Presley. This is fun.”

  “Yeah, for me too.” A day hanging out in the barn, lunch at a barbecue dive, then playing pool. Not at all what she’d expected from Kane Harrington. Something told her this was too good to be true.

  “One night I’ll cook dinner for you.”

  A sparkle of nerves ignited in her core, warning her this was getting too personal. “Is that part of the agreement?” she asked, suddenly desperate to get them back to business.

  “Does it need to be?”

  In the kitchen’s soft lighting, his dark eyes met hers. Somehow she could tell he didn’t care about business—he simply knew what he wanted. But could she trust him?

  Could she trust any of this?

  Then Mason’s voice erupted from downstairs. “Food!”

  And Presley was given a reprieve...but not for long. An hour later, Kane insisted on walking her to her car, though she reminded him that the driveway was perfectly safe. Lots of other men would have done the same, and she wouldn’t have thought twice about accepting their escort, but being alone with Kane in the dark set those nerves in motion once more.

  “I hope you had a good time,” he said as they reached her truck.

  In the dark, his voice played over her skin, making their conversation feel more intimate than it should. He’d been pleased with her performance tonight. That’s all this was.

  “You know,” she said before she could think too hard about it. “It won’t always be this way...” She turned toward him, her back against the driver’s side door. “I don’t always fit in—okay, I hardly ever fit in.”

  He seemed to be standing closer than was comfortable, yet she didn’t want to push him away. For some reason, she wanted him to know the truth about her.

  “I think we’ll fit just fine,” he said.

  “I mean—”

  He stepped closer, but somehow they still weren’t touching. “I know what you mean. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’ve always worried about it,” she murmured, distracted by the notion that she wished they had touched.

  “I know...”

  The knowledge in his voice left her worried.

  Seven

  Kane settled Presley into the front seat of his Escalade, shut the door, then let his grin break through as he skirted the SUV on his way to the driver’s side. She’d come to the door with no makeup, her hair in its usual ponytail. For the luncheon of the local chapter of the American Horse Racing Society they were attending, she’d chosen to wear a long skirt with no shape and an equally loose blouse. He didn’t even have a description for them except...gray.

  Did she even realize how obvious this ploy to remain invisible was? Probably not, since according to EvaMarie she’d been dressing like this for many years. She’d probably forgotten why she started wearing clothes that wouldn’t flatter anyone, much less a woman of her natural beauty.

  So how would she feel about stop number two today?

  He suppressed a grin as he slid behind the steering wheel. He’d worry about that when the objections started—because he knew good and well they would.

  Presley chatted pleasantly with the lady at registration when they arrived, then automatically headed in the direction of their table. Those who were already seated smiled and greeted her companionably. He had a feeling she had a set routine at these events that eliminated any unease and minimized any contact with people who would point out her lack of social aptitude.

  As she introduced him, he slipped easily into his role of Harrington Farms representative. Even Presley seemed a little dazzled.

  The food was above average for a large catered event, and the speaker was interesting. Kane had never actually attended a society event of this caliber. He and Mason had several memberships, but the American Horse Racing Society had certain expectations and heavy entry fees that had kept them out before.

  Not a problem now.

  The speaker had barely finished when Presley turned to him. “All righty, let’s go.”

  Kane glanced around the room at the small clusters of people forming to signal the usual social hour that followed these types of events. “You don’t want to stay?” he asked.

  “Um, no.” Her raised brows told him how ludicrous the question was.

  His little introvert. “Shouldn’t we at least speak to Madame President?”

  “Right.”

  He loved the sheepish cast to Presley’s expression. It told him so much about the push and pull between her business side and her natural avoidance of anything social, despite her heavily ingrained manners.

  Ms. Justine Simone, as Presley introduced her, was every inch a southern maven intent on allowing only limited access to her kingdom until she had more of an idea whom she was letting in.

  “Ah, Mr. Harrington. I knew it was only a matter of time before you tried to join our ranks here at the American Horse Racing Society.”

  “Try?” He gifted her with one of his rare smiles, which he knew had softened up many a detractor. “On the contrary, Ms. Simone, I will definitely be joining this lovely organization.”

  “We shall see about that, Mr. Harrington. We shall see.” She smiled, flashing a full set of teeth that rivaled her diamonds in their sparkle. “While I am utterly charmed by handsome men such as yourself, I am a business owner first, and as always, looking out for the good of this organization.”

  “I do understand.”

  He could afford to be patient while he grew on her. Eventually, with enough time, he would work magic on those in this room with his natural business acumen and ease in presenting his extensive knowledge. Presley was his key to gaining that time.

  Her presence legitimized him in a place where he wouldn’t have fit in before, a place where many were accepted based solely on their family name. He, on the other hand, would make a place for himself, regardless of outdated notions of social standing. He’d done it before in his life, and he would do it again as necessary.

  “I think you will be suitably impressed,” Presley said from his side, drawing the woman’s attention her way. “I’ve been out to the farm, seen the quality of the stock they have already. And I’ve talked with Kane and his brother, Mason, extensively. Harrington Farms is going to be a premier stable within a few short years—I as
sure you.”

  Kane was shocked. Her verbal recommendation wasn’t part of the deal. There’d been no requirement for her to sponsor him or endorse him with anything other than her presence. He and Ms. Simone both knew that Presley would never say this if she didn’t mean it. Kane found the experience humbling.

  “And this young woman would know,” Ms. Simone said with a gracious smile in Kane’s direction. “I’m not sure her daddy realized what a gem he had in this one. She understands the animal—its needs, its instincts—which is something book learning cannot teach you.”

  The older woman linked her arm with Presley’s. “And she’s never been one to be swayed by a pretty face.” She threw a discreet wink in Kane’s direction. “Not that I would blame her...”

  Kane got the distinct feeling Ms. Simone might pinch his cheeks if he stepped any closer.

  “And do I hear the infamous Sun might have a hand in building these stables?” Ms. Simone went on.

  “He will be a part of the bloodline, yes,” Presley admitted, her sudden stillness making him aware of a growing tension in her body.

  She could have said no. She could have said there was a misunderstanding. She could have told him Kane was on his own. Instead she was championing his case in a way he hadn’t asked for, which was sweeter and sexier than if she’d offered him something else—something he shouldn’t be thinking about in this setting.

  “So he isn’t being sold?” Ms. Simone asked sweetly, though Kane could see her sly quest for knowledge.

  He easily set her straight. “A simple miscommunication. Sun has been with Presley since he was weaned. That would be like selling part of the family.”

  He returned Presley’s wide-eyed gaze with steady calm. What happened before was between the two of them. He wasn’t even sure he could change that if he needed to, since his growing instinct was to protect her. Standing here, sharing this connection with her, he acknowledged the truth.

  This was deeper than he’d planned.

  * * *

  “What are we doing here?”

  Kane frowned. He’d expected objections once they got inside the town’s most exclusive clothing store, but he hadn’t expected the battle to start in the parking lot. And they’d been having such a pleasant afternoon...

  “I need to pick up my tux for the gala at the museum this weekend.”

  Presley crossed her arms firmly over her stomach. Her set expression wasn’t encouraging. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Why?”

  She frowned. “Why not?”

  Kane relaxed back into his seat, giving Presley his full attention. Her fists clenched, suggesting she wasn’t happy about that, either. “Don’t you want to see what I’m wearing? Make sure we don’t clash or anything?”

  “Is that really a thing outside of prom?”

  “Look, I don’t have all day,” he said, cutting to the chase. “Why don’t you just tell me what’s wrong so we can move on.”

  “So we can move on? Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  Her expression conveyed shock over his stubbornness, but Kane wasn’t budging. This behavior had gone on too long. If her daddy couldn’t break her of it, he sure as heck would.

  “I’m waiting, Presley.”

  She scrunched her eyebrows together. “Just go get your tux.”

  “Not happening.” He kept his gaze steady and serious.

  This trick worked pretty well on Presley. “I don’t like this store.”

  “This store? Or this type of store?” He needed to be sure about what he was dealing with here.

  “Well, I’m not thrilled about any formal dress store,” she said tartly, “but this one is a particular nuisance to me.”

  Kane glanced at the front of the stately building modeled after the style of the elegant manor houses dotting this end of town. “Someone recommended this store to me as one of the oldest in town, with the best reputation.”

  Looking back at Presley, he could see a slight wobble in the stubborn tilt of her chin. “Mrs. Rose has been very helpful and attentive every time I’ve been in here.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I do. Spit it out.”

  Presley rolled her eyes at his masculine ultimatum, but he didn’t miss the glint of moisture before she blinked.

  “Marjorie insisted on buying all the clothes for her and Dad’s wedding here. We came. I sat. Marjorie shopped with her girlfriends. It was a horrid experience, repeated often.”

  He glanced back at the building. “You refuse to go inside because you were forced to shop here as a kid? Seems extreme to me.”

  “Well...”

  He waited. He was good at that.

  “The last time she brought me here was for a fitting for my bridesmaid’s dress. I was a token junior bridesmaid so they could say I had actually been included in the wedding.” Presley rubbed her palms down her skirt, stretching the material. “It was an awful froufrou dress with multiple layers of ruffles for a skirt. I felt like one of those Barbie cakes in that stupid thing. When I refused to wear it, Marjorie and I got into a yelling match in the store.”

  “That must have been embarrassing.”

  “Not at the time, but I’ve never been back. Marjorie got tired of me fussing, so she shook me by the shoulders. I pulled away and fell right into a rack of jewelry. Knocked the whole thing over and tore my dress when I fell.”

  “Let me guess? You didn’t have to wear it?”

  She worried her lower lip between her teeth, but a smile threatened to break free. “I’m ashamed to say I did not. The new dress wasn’t as comfortable as jeans, but Mrs. Rose picked out something much simpler.”

  “But you’ve still never been back?”

  “Would you go back? After behaving that way?”

  “You were a child. You’re a grown woman now. Right?”

  She gave him a wary look. And she was right to be suspicious. But he wasn’t backing down.

  “So let’s go.”

  Kane gave her the space to hang back as they went through the front door with its delicate chime and down a ramp into the heart of southern-formal world. Mrs. Rose herself stood talking to a younger woman behind the counter. Her little wrinkled face lit up when she saw him. “Mr. Harrington! I’ve been impatiently waiting for you and Ms. Macarthur to arrive.”

  She rounded the counter with a much sprier step than one would anticipate from a seventysomething. “I have the most wonderful selection for her to try on—”

  The sharp, choked note from behind him caught the older woman’s attention. “Hello, Ms. Macarthur,” the proprietress said with a beaming smile. “It’s lovely to see you in my store again.”

  Kane glanced back over his shoulder and almost choked himself at Presley’s glare. He was busted. But this would be good for her. She’d see.

  Mrs. Rose didn’t seem to notice the silent communication. “I’m so excited,” she prattled on. “I see your mother in here often, but never you.”

  Kane saw Presley’s lips tighten when Marjorie was mentioned and silently applauded her for not correcting the older woman’s description.

  “And your tuxedo is ready for your fitting, Mr. Harrington.”

  Kane nodded as they followed Mrs. Rose farther into the store. He would try on the clothes later. Leaving Presley by herself right now wasn’t a good idea.

  They came to a small sitting area. Mrs. Rose gestured for them to be seated on a plush semicircular bench. “I’ll just go get everything ready,” she said before scurrying away.

  Presley glanced at the bench then turned away with a shudder. Kane figured he’d be better off meeting her resistance on his feet. The blows weren’t long in coming.

  “I thought we were getting your tux,” she said, her sharp tone giving
him a good gauge of her temper levels.

  “And I asked if you wanted us to match.”

  “No, no, I don’t. I want to be the least—” she stared at him in frustration, obviously searching for the words she wanted “—matchy couple there.”

  If her temper made her any cuter, he was going to do something that might make her head explode. “So are you gonna be rude to a sweet little lady and not try on her clothes?” he asked, attempting to stay calm and not give in to his amusement.

  “Yes.” Presley glanced around at the overflow of dresses and mirrors. “No.”

  Kane simply nodded. “It is a conundrum.”

  The sound that came from her throat was suspiciously like a growl, but before he could respond, Mrs. Rose returned and gestured them toward a separate fitting area along the back wall. More privacy, as Kane had requested.

  “This way,” she said smartly. “We’re all ready.”

  As Kane studied the tight, straight line of Presley’s back, he couldn’t help thinking some of them were more ready than others.

  Eight

  Presley stared at the rows of dresses hanging on the rack in front of her as if they were snakes. Actually, that wasn’t true. Snakes she knew how to handle. Ambushes at local formal boutiques...not so much.

  She should have known better than to start thinking Kane was a guy who might just accept her for the person she was. Instead they had their first formal public appearance tomorrow night, and he’d done the unthinkable. She hadn’t looked at even one dress, and already anger and embarrassment were building.

  She had a feeling making a scene wouldn’t work as well with Kane as it had with her stepmother.

  Honestly, she’d let her inner angry child show way too much today. She didn’t like flashing her issues around like a sign that her world had been screwed up long before her father died. The few times they’d discussed her family, Kane had been understanding. At the moment, though, she got the feeling he was laughing at her, leaving Presley to feel like a child throwing a tantrum.