by Dani Wade
Her heartbeat picked up speed like a train leaving the station. She had to face the fact that this wasn’t about business, as much as she might wish it was. No, this was personal. Very personal.
Her arms squeezed even tighter over her chest, only giving the illusion of security. She averted her gaze, looking off toward the doorway, no longer able to handle Kane and his silence.
“I’m sorry, Kane,” she finally said. “I’m sorry if you were disappointed the other night.”
Her quiet words landed like a firecracker in the room. Kane jerked to a halt, finally showing one emotion. Shock. And something else, something darker that she couldn’t make out.
He shook his head a few times. “Are we remembering the same night?” he asked. “Because from my viewpoint that isn’t even an issue.”
Presley blinked. How was that possible after the way he behaved? “Look, I’m used to guys not calling, so you don’t have to feel bad. But I’m not usually under contract with them, so...”
“Not usually?” Kane asked, his brow rising.
How could one look make her feel like such a ditz? “Okay, never. Which is why we need to get this, um, figured out.”
There, that was pretty close to businesslike.
But Kane still didn’t answer. He squeezed his eyes closed and rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. Presley waited while her stomach churned, her mind tumbling through the possibilities of what he would say next.
Patience had never been her strong suit. “I just don’t want anything that happened between us personally to affect our contract. What we expect from each other.”
“Why would it?”
Was he really this dense? Or just being difficult?
“I don’t know, Kane,” she suddenly exploded. Her breath came hard and fast as her emotions outstripped her control. “I have no idea why you’re suddenly being an inconsiderate jerk, okay?”
She swallowed hard, but the feelings refused to be locked back up inside. Turning around, she rushed for the doorway, intent only on getting out of there before she did something stupid—like bursting into tears.
A firm grip on her arm whirled her back around. In seconds Kane was hard against her with the wall at her back. And all her anger detonated into a white-hot passion inside her.
His lips met hers as if he felt it, too. No polite inquiry or gentleness here. He insisted she open for him, then conquered every inch of the territory within. Need spiked as his tongue met hers.
He pressed closer, his hips grinding against her. If she’d thought their one night together was all they had, his body told a whole different story. Her groans echoed in her ears. She clutched at his arms, desperation shoving aside everything but desire. Kane reluctantly pulled away from her lips, only to dive for the vulnerable length of her neck.
His ragged breathing hitched as he nuzzled, suckled and nipped at her skin. Presley rose on her toes, eager for more.
Luckily Kane didn’t settle. His hands fumbled at her shirt, jerking it from her waistband, then up over her head.
She didn’t have time to think about bare skin in daylight or what bra she had on. Kane stripped her of it soon enough.
His hands kneading her breasts made everything in her tighten, her body aching for Kane’s rough passion.
Her nipples tingled in anticipation and were rewarded when Kane drew first one, then the other into his mouth. Presley’s head fell back against the wall, her hands buried in Kane’s hair.
Only in these moments could she forget her own hang-ups and just let herself feel.
With a grunt, Kane’s hands moved to the button on her jeans. Relief flooded through her when he finally got the fly open and started to wriggle them down her hips.
She wanted to cry when he paused. Then he stepped back, allowing cool air to drift over her skin. He glanced down, then back up to meet her wide-eyed gaze.
To her pride, he looked a little dazed as he gave her a half grin. “I don’t think this is gonna work,” he murmured.
“What?” Her question was slightly slurred.
Kane glanced back down. So did she—only to see their boots.
Yep. That would make getting out of her pants a bit of a challenge.
Instead of stepping away or letting her go, Kane pressed close once more. He spoke against her ear, reviving the goose bumps across her skin. “If I haven’t made myself clear, I have no problem with you or what happened the other night. Got it?”
“Then why the hell didn’t you call?” she mumbled.
“We’ll get to that. Just don’t ever think that I don’t want you, Presley. Ever.”
Seriously? She found herself pushing him back, even though the move exposed far more than she was comfortable with. “What else am I supposed to think, Kane? It’s been three days. Three days without a word.”
In true male fashion, Kane glanced down but then met her gaze once more. “That’s because I’m a jerk. Nothing to do with you. Got it?”
She shook her head. Because she didn’t get it. She didn’t understand. “That’s not good enough. Tell me why.”
He took a deep breath, then turned away. “That’s a very good question.”
* * *
Kane didn’t look back as he heard Presley scramble for her clothes. The least he could do was give her a chance to make herself decent after he’d almost stripped her bare.
The pull was strong, the desire to return to the heat of her skin and the eager passion she gave him when he touched her.
But he couldn’t. Not now.
Just the thought of what he had to tell her killed the desire racing through his body like a fire extinguisher putting out a flame. But if he wanted to undo the damage he’d inflicted on Presley, on her self-esteem, he had to own up to why he’d stayed away. She deserved his honesty.
Which totally sucked.
Kane didn’t like talking about Emily. He didn’t even talk about her with Mason, who’d been there through every stage of the relationship. Discovery, bliss, tragedy and absolute rejection. Could Kane make his actions toward Presley understood without having to reveal all the nitty-gritty details about Emily?
He hoped so.
Finally the sounds behind him stopped. Kane turned to face his punishment. “I did come by, actually.”
Presley tilted her head to the side, wisps of hair that had come loose from her inevitable ponytail dancing around her head. “What? When?”
“The next morning.”
He could see her try to think back, probably searching for what she’d done that morning and how it could have run him off. There was no point in speculating, but she didn’t know that yet.
“Bennett led me through the stables out to the paddock where you were training.”
Recognition dawned in those pretty green eyes, but no understanding. He didn’t even understand his extreme reaction himself.
“You were working on jumps and I—” Kane paused as his throat closed. In his mind, he cursed. Why the hell couldn’t he keep it together?
“Yes,” she said slowly. “Black Jack’s just started.”
The jumps were low. There was nothing dangerous about what she’d been doing. Nothing upsetting. He could almost hear her think, what’s the big deal?
“I was engaged once.”
His words sounded too loud in the room, as if they echoed off the hardwood floors and walls. Her green eyes flared. She sucked in a deep breath. “I know.”
“You knew that?” he asked, delaying the inevitable.
Her nod was cautious. “I just heard Mason mention that you’d had a fiancée the other night. That’s it.”
“What kind of lover are you?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood. “Not even a single internet search?”
Her cheeks turned
a delicate pink that entranced him. “Well, I didn’t have much to go on.”
At least she was honest. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had. But anyway...” Where should he start? How much should he say? “It was a few years ago and we were together—” More years than he cared to remember.
“She was an accomplished rider. We had big plans. Emily loved horses as much as I did.”
A movement brought his gaze back to Presley, even though he hadn’t realized he’d looked away. Tentative steps brought her closer, though her arms were still wrapped around her waist. She hadn’t bothered to tuck in her shirt, but everything else seemed to be in place.
“We were at a competition when it happened. Something went wrong with the jump. I’m still not sure what. It surprised her, too, and she couldn’t recover properly.”
“Oh, Kane,” Presley said, shaking her head as if in denial. She’d been around animals long enough she probably didn’t need more details. Just the important one. “But she lived?”
He nodded. “Permanently paralyzed from the waist down.”
Ignoring Presley’s gasp, he forced himself to go on. “But she no longer wanted anything to do with me or the dreams we had together. She moved to a city where she never had to see another horse. Got a job. Married a man. Built a new life. And I don’t blame her one bit.”
Liar.
“So my jumping upset you?” Presley asked, confusion in her tone.
“I don’t know why,” Kane said with a shrug. “I’m around animals a lot. Been to plenty of competitions since then. Shouldn’t be a problem.” He met her gaze head on. “Won’t be a problem.”
She wanted to say something. He could tell. But she shook her head, then suddenly changed tack. “So we’re good?” she asked.
Kane switched gears immediately, grateful to leave the subject of his stupid behavior and broken engagement far behind. He stalked toward her, enjoying the sensation of control as her eyes widened. “No.”
Presley blinked. “No?”
“I think it’s a little soon to be good.”
She wasn’t following, so he gave her a demonstration. First he swooped her up into his arms, then dropped her onto the leather couch. Her cry quickly turned into a giggle. Then she gasped as he straddled one of her legs, bringing his thigh high between hers. “Kane,” she said, breathless, “I came straight from the stables. I’m dirty.”
He leaned in close, bracing his palms on the smooth surface on each side of her head. The urge to imprint himself on her was overwhelming, but he maintained just a few inches of distance. “Let’s get this straight,” he said, bending his elbows so he could bring his mouth to her skin. “I spend regular parts of my day getting sweaty and dirty.”
He grinned as she sighed from the sensations of having him this close.
“I find you fascinating, Presley. I told you before, it’s not about the dress.”
His hips dipped briefly to press into the cradle of hers. “I like you messy. I like you clean. I like you fancy. I’ll take you however I can get you.”
“Yes,” she moaned, arching to press his lips harder against her.
He nibbled his way up to her earlobe. After giving the soft flesh a firm nip, he whispered in her ear. “And right now, I have only one thing on my mind.”
“What’s that?”
“Getting you out of these boots.”
Twelve
“Are you using this trip to force me to stay the night?” Presley asked as she looked around their elaborate suite in the boutique hotel Kane had chosen in Louisville.
The question was a little tongue in cheek, but her nerves were very real. This would be her first night to stay in Kane’s arms. Her first time to wake up with him. Was she crazy?
To hide the jitteriness invading her limbs, she strode over to the balcony doors. Each room had its own individual balcony with side walls made of wrought-iron covered in clinging ivy. Gorgeous.
“Hey, whatever works,” Kane said from directly behind her.
With a natural ease that still discomfited her, Kane slipped his arms around her and pressed his lips against her temple. Affection came as naturally to him as sex—something she hadn’t expected.
“Men are devious about getting their way,” he added, amusement in his voice.
And for some reason, this was something he wanted. Not in a pushy way, but he’d asked her every night they were together to stay. She never did. There were no demands, no fuss. But the question came like clockwork.
“What devious men want is rarely the best for everyone involved,” she quipped, then automatically wished she could take the words back. They were too revealing for her comfort.
Her instincts told her that sleeping beside him all night would be the end of her ability to stay detached. Thus the nerves that had her eyeing the king-size bed with something akin to fear, mixed with an excitement she couldn’t deny.
Honestly, was her current state really, truly detached? No...but it was comforting to delude herself.
When he wrapped his arms around her, it chipped away at her resolve, as did his low whistle when she came out of the dressing room a little later. She was wearing the very dress that had made her stare into the dressing room mirror weeks ago. The deep jewel-blue, silky material, and flowing length made her feel special, especially when Kane complimented her. Every sexy, whispered word of praise made her ache to dive in headfirst and not think about later. Why did she have to be such a practical kind of girl?
She tried to put practicalities aside and enjoy the luxury of the limo that took them to their first event in Louisville—the annual dinner put on by the American Horse Racing Society to kick off the festivities leading up to the Kentucky Derby race.
She savored his hand at the small of her back. The assurance that this dress—her breakthrough dress, she often called it—actually looked and felt good on her.
As the dinner got into full swing, she tried to loosen up enough to consider tonight magical, even if the thought made her practical, party-hating self choke a little on her champagne.
To her surprise, it was magical for a couple of hours. With Kane at her side, they chatted with her friends whom he’d already met. She introduced him around to acquaintances in the business. They even sat with Justine Simone during the meal.
But the magic ended the minute she stepped out of a stall in the ladies’ room to find Joan applying lipstick at the mirror.
“Oh,” Presley said, “I didn’t even realize you were here.”
Judging from the frown that appeared on the other woman’s face, that wasn’t the right choice of words.
“I’m not surprised,” Joan said with an exasperated drawl.
“Um, excuse me?”
“Mooning like a cow is not becoming—or ladylike. But we both know that’s not one of your strong suits.”
Presley stood for a moment, perplexed. Joan hadn’t been this direct in her attacks since they were teenagers. Teenage girls weren’t subtle; they didn’t hold anything back. Oddly, the words didn’t upset Presley, but only confused her.
Her body made up her mind for her, and she automatically moved forward to wash her hands. Whatever was stuck in Joan’s craw would just have to stay there. Presley wasn’t in the mood.
Ignoring the woman watching her, she carefully straightened her dress, making sure no part of it had gotten tucked into her underwear by accident. Then she reached into the little clutch she carried and retrieved a new lip gloss—praying the whole time someone else would come in and break up the tension.
No such luck.
As Joan continued to stare, a flush of anger ignited in Presley’s core. Joan and her like had always made Presley feel ashamed, as though she were less than them. Not today. Somehow her self-esteem had gotten Kane’s message.
“Makeup? Really, Presley?” Joan shifted to rest against the counter as if taking up a front row seat. “The girl who has always gone au naturel is wearing makeup for a man?”
Presley studied the mirror. Most women wouldn’t even consider what she wore now as true makeup. Some powder, lip gloss and eye shadow, applied using the very basic technique she’d managed to master. That was all. She smiled, watching her barely red lips move in the mirror. But beneath the smile was something very, very different.
“And that dress,” Joan continued. “Are you seriously attracting a man with that?”
“Everyone else likes it.”
“They’re just being polite.”
Kane picked it out.
Joan wasn’t finished. “It’s embarrassing how hard you’re trying—only to fail so publicly.”
Presley watched her own brows rise in the mirror, as if her reflection were questioning this new accusation. “Fail?” Presley could only be proud that her tone and expression were calm, since her insides were anything but.
Joan shook her head from side to side, as if in pity. “Kane could have simply paid you for your expertise, if that’s what he was after. It seems to be the only thing other men want from you. But he is a man, after all... They’re gonna take what’s on offer, if it’s free.”
Presley’s breath caught hard in her chest.
“Until something better comes along,” Joan added with an arch smile.
I don’t think so. “And that something is you?”
The fake shock Joan adopted wasn’t fooling Presley. “Well,” Joan said, drawing the word out as if she were reluctant to continue, “I don’t see why not.”
“Right. Because you have so much to offer, I guess?”
Now Joan turned to the mirror to straighten her own dress. The preening nauseated Presley.
“Honestly, I don’t see much on offer besides a pretty face and stylish clothes. The problem is there’s not a single original thought in your head.”
