by Allen, Jewel
“It wasn’t a for sure thing,” Talia stuttered. “I didn’t have all the money yet. But I warned you off.”
“You should have been more explicit.”
The glow of hope on her face shamed him. “And you would have left her alone?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Well, she would make a good broodmare.”
“She still has a race in her. You’re not pulling her out of Kentucky Oaks, are you?”
“I don’t know. Shouldn’t I?”
Talia paced like a hungry tigress. “She’s ready for the Oaks, Prince Jamal. I can personally vett that.”
“Oh, so now you’re a veterinarian?”
“Ouch.”
“Sorry.” Jay stood up and moved around his desk. “The Greens told me about her hoof troubles. Is that true?”
She averted her gaze. “Yes.”
“Then there’s no question of her racing, is there?”
“No!” she contested hotly. “That girl has so much heart, more heart than any horse I’ve ever met. She wants to race, and she’s ready to race. If I didn’t think she could, I wouldn’t be riding her.”
“Could it be that you are wishful thinking and read her according to how you want the outcome to be?”
“You make me sound like a heartless jockey!” she shot back.
“No, not heartless. Just one-track minded.” His voice softened. “Listen, Talia, there’s no doubt she’s a good horse, but perhaps her racing days are over. She can breed and make little fillies and colts.”
Talia flinched, her face turning red. “I’ve put too much of myself in this for you to snatch our dream from us. Yes, it’s my dream and hers. How much should I write a check out to buy her from you?”
He didn’t speak for a long moment. “Eighty thousand dollars.”
Her face slackened. Tears filled her eyes. “I can get you that money. Just give me twenty-four hours.”
“You can’t raise that kind of money in twenty-four hours,” he said, his tone dry.
“I can. Watch me.”
“Talia.”
She raised her eyes to his, and he got lost in them. He wanted to reach deep into her for some connection. Despite the resistance he sensed, she seemed drawn to him as he was to her.
“Talia,” he murmured as he moved closer to her. “You can still be her jockey. In fact, I want to hire you to be her jockey.”
She blinked. “What?”
Jay leaned closer. Against her lips, he whispered, “I want…”
At the feel of her lips opening to his, he forgot what he wanted. He just knew he wanted to be close to this woman, to taste her, to let her engulf his senses like she was doing now. She fit perfectly against his body, her back arching so she could strain closer to him, her response sweet and beguiling. His arms tightened around her as he deepened their kiss.
And then she was pulling back, her breath ragged.
“Well?” he said in a husky voice as his fogged senses cleared. “Will you be my jockey? I’ll pay you twice as much as the Greens do.”
Her eyes, clouded with passion, cooled quickly.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and spat out, “You didn’t need to kiss me to convince me. I probably would have said yes. But now, I…I don’t know.”
He moved to take her back into his arms, but she stayed out of reach.
“Please,” she said. “I need to think about it.”
“All right.” Jay nodded. “About the kiss―”
“We can just both forget it happened. Like I said, you didn’t need to do that.”
He opened his mouth to protest that he had wanted to do it, but she had already whirled away and out of his office, leaving the door ajar. George, caught in the act of eavesdropping, stood there with his mouth hanging wide open.
“Careful,” Jay deadpanned. “You might get a fly in your mouth.”
CHAPTER NINE
Talia was almost all the way to Eula’s stall when she allowed herself to slow down.
What had just happened?
She lifted a finger to her lips, tracing them gently while reliving the heated sensations in Jay’s arms. Reaching the barn wall, she leaned against it. Her heart was still beating erratically.
Closing her eyes, she steadied her breath. It was a kiss to remember. It was a kiss for the books. Too bad it was a kiss of convenience.
He just wanted her to say yes to being Eula’s jockey.
Of course, if she had any sense in her, she’d say yes to his job offer. Twice as much as the Greens’s salary? Why, she’d be a fool to not accept it. But at what price? His kiss didn’t feel coerced, but he held a certain power over her. She’d have to be careful to keep everything on a professional level. The last thing she wanted was to be the subject of vulgar rumors and innuendos that she slept her way up the ranks. She would show up for work every day, just do her job, and get Eula across the finish line. Then it would be on to the next horse, the next race, the next employer. Surely, she could endure being around Jay for two weeks, especially for Eula’s sake.
Eula.
Talia opened her eyes and pushed off from the wall to walk the length of the aisle to get to Eula’s pen. Talia’s heart contracted at the sight of her filly friend pricking up her ears and leaning against the paddock door. Like a doe, innocent and vulnerable, Eula watched Talia.
“Do you trust me, Eula?” Talia asked the filly, opening her hand and letting her sniff it, her heart melting at how gentle and warm Eula’s breath was. “Do you think we could do it together? Or am I pushing you too hard?”
Eula snuffled into Talia’s palm and rubbed her soft muzzle against it.
Talia entered Eula’s pen. She rubbed the horse’s mane and buried her fingers in it. Then she leaned against Eula’s warmth.
“If something were to happen to you, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself,” she whispered.
Suddenly, it hit her. She couldn’t, in good conscience, ride this filly unless Eula was cleared by the vet, but she didn’t trust the Greens’s vet. He’d known them far too long, and it seemed that his only goal was to declare horses decrepit. Maybe, with Jay’s ownership, they could get a new vet that could not only diagnose her properly but prescribe a more effective solution.
The memory of their kiss made her cheeks burn once again. She was glad for Eula and her warm neck. Talia buried her face against it, and she was sure she was blushing pink.
“Boys are trouble,” Talia told Eula. “Men are even worse.”
She sighed. She needed to date more, but there were so few eligible guys around. The horse racing industry was dominated by men, but they were the wrong type of men―rough at the edges who swore a lot. She wasn’t normally queasy around that, but it got tiresome. Some threw around curse words as a speech tic. Not a flattering characteristic, in Talia’s opinion. Often the grooms and jockeys went out on Friday nights to the local honky-tonk bar, but everyone just wanted to get stone drunk or make passes at Talia, so she soon learned to not go out with them.
Now a prince, on the other hand…
She wondered what kind of date Jay would be like. Too bad they couldn’t have a future together. Not if she needed the royal mother’s approval.
She heard a sound coming from just outside the paddock.
Talia stiffened, feeling a prick of anxiety. Lately, with the nail incident and the yet unsolved arson, she felt unsure of her surroundings anymore. She cocked her ear to listen further and leaned out to see who it could be.
Jay was walking down the length of the paddock toward Eula’s pen.
Talia pulled back, pleasure warring with apprehension.
When he stopped in the frame of Eula’s doorway, he reeled back in surprise but recovered quickly.
“I didn’t think you’d be in here,” he said. “Actually, on second thought, I’m not surprised.”
Talia didn’t say anything. She busied herself with cleaning up the stall.
“How is she?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“What does she think you should do? Race or not race?”
“We should consult with the vet,” she said.
“Great idea.”
“If he gives a clean bill of health…” Talia hesitated. “Eula wants me to say yes.”
After she gave her answer, she realized it was fraught with double meaning. But Jay was easy and didn’t seem to care.
“Good girl,” he said.
“Me or the horse?” she asked.
“Both?”
He smiled, his eyes lighting up with mischief. She had to avert her gaze as she was falling under his spell.
“That calls for some celebration,” he said.
“Oh?” Talia said lightly.
“Would you like to go to dinner with me?”
“Prince Jamal,” she said. “Before you were my employer, dating you would already have been awkward. But now, even more so.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, “we’ll take the crew.”
She scrunched her nose. “Who, exactly, is the crew?”
***
The din at The Tack Shed restaurant and bar drowned out any hope for a decent conversation. Talia chuckled to herself. Jay’s secretary, George, wasn’t exactly what she had in mind for a chaperone, but he’d have to do. And Jay. Jay was a revelation in this atmosphere. He had dressed down in a green golf shirt and looked perfectly at home. They sat next to each other at the circular table, and every so often, his leg accidentally brushed against hers.
Over their drinks, their eyes met.
George was talking about a vacation he had taken in Italy. When he was done with his little travelogue, he entertained himself with shooting peanuts into the ashtray.
“What about you,” Jay asked Talia. “Do you like to travel?”
“Sure,” she shouted back. “But I seldom get to. There are always animals to take care of, and I feel anxious about being gone the whole time. So I don’t go on a lot of vacations.”
Jay teased, “You mean you’re a workaholic?”
“What about the Pentatonix?” George asked.
“Workaholic!” Talia clarified, but George just shrugged. She turned her attention back to Jay. “Well, do you travel?”
“When I can. But I’m like you. I don’t like being gone for too long. In fact, I was anxious to get back to Boston.”
“Was?”
He nodded with a little smile. “Was.”
Talia’s gaze faltered and fell to her soda. The guy was seriously flirting with her. And she wanted him to. But, ahem, no, no, no. She would have to impress not just the mother, but probably all of the island princedom of Mondragón. Who wants that kind of pressure?
As if she was in real danger of ending up with this prince.
The band started ripping into a fun country song, and Talia’s foot started to thump to the beat.
Jay stood up, confusing her. Were they leaving already? But he had a smile on his face as he offered his hand. “Could I please have the pleasure of this dance?”
She stifled a giggle. He sounded so formal and out of place in a Lexington restaurant bar.
“He’s a good dancer,” George said, popping a peanut into his mouth and waggling his eyebrows.
What a strange, strange night this was turning out to be.
She turned back to Jay and accepted his hand, letting him pull her onto the impromptu dance floor, which was the only open aisle. The fire marshal could shut the place down if he saw them blocking it.
George was right. Jay was a good dancer. He pulled her into a swing, tossed, caught, and dipped her without missing a beat.
“Whoa,” Talia said, breathless.
His eyes glimmered. “I was on our college ballroom team.”
Jay didn’t let up until the band played its last banjo lick, and then the rest of the patrons clapped boisterously and issued catcalls. Jay took her hand and led her into a circle of bows.
Talia laughed, feeling relaxed and loose-limbed. She allowed him to lead her back to the table, but then the band played the first notes of a slow song, and he gave her a questioning glance.
You only live once, Talia. It’s not every day that a prince asks you to dance a slow dance in the middle of a bar in Kentucky. A little under two weeks from now, you’ll be on the road, and you will probably never see him again.
She melted into his arms, self-conscious of her sweaty shirt, not just from dancing, but also from her day’s work. She was also conscious of his spicy musk smell, and how his shirt button was open at the top, revealing tanned skin and chest hair.
***
Jay reveled in holding Talia. She had been skittish like a filly, but now she was pliant and submissive. She smelled of sun and hay and helter-skelter reality, everything he lacked in his organized life. He pulled her closer and could see the quick rising and falling of her chest. He was careful to not press his lips against her skin, even though every ounce of him wanted to.
He pressed his fingers into the small of her back, and she arched toward him like a kitten. He wished they were alone so he could take her into his arms and kiss her properly. Surely by now, she knew that he was very attracted to her.
When the music ended, he resisted the urge to pull her back into the circle of his arms and instead followed her through the little gap between the tables. George, good ole George, smiled at their return.
“Told you His Royal Highness is good,” George said to Talia.
She nodded, giving Jay a shy smile.
Jay wanted to be with this woman. Not just tonight, but the next day, and the next. He wanted to go back to her little cabin on her little slice of heaven and watch her ride Stormy.
He cleared his throat, looking at the band with unseeing eyes. Was he turning domestic? Was he falling in love? Could he make a life with this woman, with her promising jockey career?
Man, slow down. You just want to kiss the girl.
They danced some more for the next hour. George had been game at first, but understandably, sitting by himself at the table most of the night while Jay took Talia for a spin on the dance floor got old pretty quickly.
“Thanks for the drinks, Your Highness,” George said, blowing his nose into a tissue. “I shall retire for the night, if you don’t mind.” With Jay’s nod, George left the two to themselves.
Jay couldn’t hear Talia over the noise in the restaurant, but he didn’t mind. This forced them into close proximity, with his arm slung casually around her waist and his head lowered close to hers as they tried to carry on a conversation.
After a couple of hours that felt like minutes, Talia looked up the time on her phone. “I’d better get home. I have an early start tomorrow.”
“Of course.” Jay agreed, despite his disappointment. He asked for the bill, and within minutes, they were out in the Lexington night, the noise of the bar left behind in muffled tones.
“Did you have fun?” Jay asked.
“I did,” she said, her eyes glowing. “I must say, your choice of restaurants kind of shocked me.”
Jay gave her a curious glance. “How come?”
“I thought maybe you’d pick an expensive place with thirty-dollar steaks.”
“I almost did,” he admitted, “but I wanted to go someplace with dancing.”
“George is funny,” Talia said, chuckling. “It’s not every day that I’m chaperoned by my date’s male secretary.”
He remembered what she said about the dinner not being a date, but he wasn’t about to correct her.
“I had to think fast on my feet,” Jay said. “I was afraid you’d say no if it was just you and me.”
They reached the end of the street and turned the corner, headed down to the parking lot. Jay caught her hand, and they came to a stop.
Her eyes glistened with emotion―happiness and uncertainty―mirroring all the turbulence inside Jay too.
“Listen,” he said. “I don’t know what the future wil
l bring. I just know that I love being with you.”
“I love being with you too,” she confessed.
Relief washed over him. “I’m glad,” he whispered.
“And that is why,” she said primly, “I think we need to keep everything on a professional level. Just a working relationship.”
Jay couldn’t believe his ears. “What? Didn’t you just say―”
“I know,” she said gently, as though to soften the blow. She disengaged her hand from his. “I know myself. I can’t focus on what I need to do if I am, er, distracted by this.”
Hurt and disappointment came over Jay in waves. “Surely we can balance it out.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so, Jay. Sorry. After this race, I’ll be looking for another jockey job―”
“You can work for me,” he said. “Forever.”
Her expression turned cold. “Did you hear what you just said?”
“Okay, you don’t have to work for me forever,” he backtracked.
“That’s all we can ever be, an employer-employee.”
“No, it’s not.” He reached for her, all the yearning within coming to the surface, but she stepped back.
He held his hands up. “Fine. We’ll have it your way.”
Talia gazed at him, and he couldn’t tell what emotions whirred in her eyes. She shuttered them by looking down at her hands. “Thank you.”
And, just like that, they were back to being acquaintances, walking side by side and not touching.
CHAPTER TEN
Talia woke bleary-eyed. She had gone to bed late last night because of the celebratory dinner and had lain awake for a long time. She relived the dancing and the other day’s kissing, up to her lofty after-dinner speech at the end. In the car, Jay was all politeness. When he dropped her off, he got out to open her door and said nothing else.
His reaction was everything she wanted, everything she had demanded, but why, then, did she feel so hollow this morning?
She dressed for the day like an automaton, putting one foot in front of the other and going through the motions. When she stood at the mirror, she gazed at her reflection, no different than the day before, but there was a heaviness in her eyes, like a relative had died.
