MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance (18 page)

He rose and scooped up the dishes, putting everything away with his usual economy of motion. Yet somehow he managed to keep his hand splayed around her hip.

And then she was back sitting in her seat by the window and he was clipping her belt, and his long arm was draped around her shoulders.

“Tell me more about the Center,” he said. “And the horse we’re going to see.”

His hand played with her hair, sending tingles of awareness skimming down her neck. “He’s a bay gelding,” she managed, trying to turn her thoughts to horses. “Eight years old, fourteen two hands high. Apparently very even minded.”

Alex linked his other hand through hers. “And what about the Center? How did you like it? Were you okay when you first arrived?”

When she first arrived.
After he’d dumped her for a pregnant Rachel. And then she realized why he was holding her hand, why his arm remained wrapped around her. He was monitoring her reaction.

She knew she’d stiffened but he continued stroking her hair, and she didn’t really want to move. Besides, it was easier to be honest, to talk freely when she was pressed against him like this. And he knew it. She could feel his concern, along with the heightened pounding of his heart, and it no longer seemed important to maintain her pride. To hide the depth of her anguish.

“I was devastated,” she admitted.

She felt the warmth of his mouth against her hair, the press of his lips. “I was too, Cass.”

She left her head resting against his chest, her fingers entwined in his hand. “It was probably good for me to leave though,” she said. “And make my own way. I might have stayed working with Gramps my whole life.”

“So they treated you well? At the Center?”

“The first month was challenging. All the best positions went to locals and in the beginning I was limited to mucking out stalls and galloping headstrong horses that nobody else wanted to ride. But I worked my way into a full-time riding job. I even galloped a Derby winner once.” She couldn’t keep the note of pride from her voice. The equine center was an elite spa that catered to racehorses and the company was extremely selective about their exercise riders. She’d been the only one who had never been licensed at a racetrack.

“I can’t wait to see the place again,” she said, feeling a change in the engines as the plane began its descent. “The staff is probably the same. They don’t have much turnover.” No doubt she’d still be working there if Dan Barrett hadn’t noticed her galloping on the oval.

“And I hope the horse is nice,” she added, “and will suit Grace. So this plane trip isn’t a waste.”

“This trip is definitely not a waste,” Alex said.

His mouth brushed her lips. The kiss, though quick and light, was full of such promise it left her charged with hope. And the knowledge that they had a full day ahead, a rare day to enjoy together, away from Rachel, Gramps and even Grace.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

 

 

The entrance to the Three Brooks Equine Center was just as impressive as Cassie remembered, the elaborate cobblestones and landscaping reassuringly unchanged. She’d been numb with homesickness and heartache when she first arrived. But the people and animals had been welcoming and it was an unexpected gift to be able to come back and renew old acquaintances.

A stocky receptionist sat behind the desk in the lobby, her head bent over what Cassie guessed was a crossword puzzle.

“Hi, Frances,” she called.

Frances looked up, her jaw dropping. “You’re back? I thought you were in Hollywood, acting or something.” She thrust aside her pen with a clatter, rushed around the gleaming oak desk and gave Cassie a clumsy but exuberant hug.

“Not acting,” Cassie said. “Working with horses. We’re here to look at a gelding that Dan Barrett dropped off. This is Alex.” She gestured behind her.

“Hello,” Frances mumbled. She scooted back behind the safety of her desk. “I’ll call Wally for you,” she said, fumbling with the phone.

Cassie glanced over her shoulder. Frances had always been intimidated by attractive and powerful men. Alex was definitely both, even though Cassie had deliberately refrained from mentioned his last name. But his power was ingrained, cultivated from birth. It showed in the way he looked and talked, even the way he moved. Cassie was used to it. She was also accustomed to his perception.

He remained several feet back, as if sensing the woman’s discomfort and content with Cassie taking the lead.

“He’s gorgeous,” Frances whispered, slanting her gaze toward Alex. “Is he a movie star?”

“No. Just a dad looking for a quiet horse for his daughter. Dan Barrett has a gelding here that he can’t use. He thought Alex might like him.”

Frances visibly relaxed. “Must be a horse in Peanut’s barn. All the animals in the Center are racehorses booked for therapy.” She paused to speak on the phone then replaced the receiver. “Wally’s at the vet clinic but he’ll be back soon. Said Dan’s horse is in the stall next to Peanut and to make yourself at home.”

Cassie gave an appreciative nod, welcoming the chance to wander around and give Alex a quick tour. The Center offered the most advanced equine therapy and had a range of rehab, including an oxygen chamber, vibration plates and a swimming pool. Most of the clients were blue-blooded Thoroughbreds, and it was gratifying how well they performed after leaving the spa.

But she sensed Alex was eager to see the horse first.

“We can go to Peanut’s barn now,” she said. “And check out the horse. The little barn is on the other side of the parking lot.”

“Great,” he said. “Is Peanut their flagstone stallion?”

“No.” She smiled at the thought. “He’s an old pony who belongs to the owners. I don’t know his exact age but he’s a testament to the health benefits here. He gets regular oxygen and infrared treatment, and has complete run of the property. He’s totally spoiled but a darling. Jenna and Emily owned him since they were kids. He’s part of their family.”

Alex’s brow raised. “The Center has more than one owner?”

“Actually Jenna’s husband, Burke, owns the Center and her sister, Emily, works in the movie industry with me. She’s married to Dan Barrett.” She paused, remembering that only a few days ago she’d deliberately let Alex think Dan was single. But she was feeling much more confident now. Impossible not to, considering the way he’d kissed her.

Her eyes lingered on his mouth, causing her belly to give a little quiver. “Dan Barrett is the reason I ended up working in the film industry,” she said. “One of the Thoroughbreds was a known renegade and he saw me galloping him. But that horse was child’s play compared to riding some of the animals Gramps had in for training.”

Alex winced at the memory so she changed the subject, talking instead about how most of the Thoroughbreds had been perfectly behaved, and how she’d loved conditioning them for their return to the track. He was interested in all the available therapies too, listening intently as she spoke about the great results here.

“I was just fortunate the Center was hiring,” she added. “Otherwise I would have had to stay home. And it would have been horrible being around you and Rachel.” Her voice trailed off and she realized she was revealing far more than she’d intended.

But he just nodded, his mouth tight. “I agree,” he said. “It would have been hell having you close. Wanting to see you, knowing we couldn’t.”

His fingers splayed around her waist and she realized he’d been finding excuses to touch her since they stepped off the plane. It was as if he’d left his responsibilities back in Virginia, along with his reserve. He was so open now, like the man she’d known, even saying he wanted her to stay. She rose on the tips of her toes and impulsively kissed his cheek.

His arms banded around her. “Let’s check out this horse quickly,” he said, his voice gruff. “Then hurry back to the plane. Tomorrow we can fly somewhere else and look at another horse. And another and another.”

She laughed but his mouth was against her neck and it didn’t feel like he was joking. “Or maybe we can just grab that little pony,” he said. “And squeeze him on the plane. That would keep Grace happy for a while.”

“Even you don’t have enough money to buy Peanut,” Cassie said, fighting the temptation to hurry back to the privacy of the plane. After all, they had the entire day. And horse buying should never be rushed.

She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the outlying barn. A woman stood in the doorway, watching them with prim disapproval.

“Hello,” Cassie called. “We’re here to look at Dan Barrett’s bay gelding. Wally is meeting us.”

The lady’s name was Judith and her face visibly softened when she realized Wally had authorized their visit.

“The horse is back here,” Judith said. “We call him Freckles. I’m not sure of his registered name or his breeding, but he’s a lovely horse to be around. I have a sheet somewhere that lists his commands. He’s been in quite a few movies.”

Cassie gave a subdued nod. Dan thought the horse might be suitable, but Grace would never be able to handle an animal trained to rear or bite, no matter how quiet. It was much too dangerous. Even a pawing horse could mistakenly hit a handler’s leg. And it was irresistible for a kid to want to show off a horse’s tricks.

Judith jabbed her thumb at a box stall on the right. “That’s Freckles,” she said. “I’ll just check the office for his file.”

She strode down the aisle, her steps crisp with purpose.

“A trick horse is probably too dangerous,” Alex said, picking up on her reservations. “Guess we’ll have more time on the plane. We won’t even have to ride him.” He didn’t sound entirely disappointed that their horse-buying trip was a bust, and he was already glancing toward the exit.

Straw shuffled and a horse poked his head over the top of the stall door, curious about the voices in the aisle. It was easy to see why he was called Freckles. Blotches of brown speckled a blazed face. His eyes were soft and intelligent, and he eyed them respectfully, not shoving at their hands but clearly pleased to have visitors.

“He’s rather cute.” Alex stepped closer to the stall, his voice almost grudging. “Well mannered too.”

Cassie reached out and scratched the horse’s neck. Apparently he was too placid a ride for any polo film. And his spots made him too distinctive for background work. It would be a pain to constantly dye them. But the fact that her boss had kept him around proved he was a nice animal. Dan Barrett knew a good horse when he saw one.

“I found his file,” Judith announced, striding back down the aisle and reading from a green folder. “Eight-year-old quarterhorse cross. Ground ties. Suitable for crowds, explosions and water scenes. Vet shots up to date.” She glanced up and shrugged. “That’s about it. Oh, and his big trick is to bow on command.”

Relief swept Cassie. No rearing, biting or pawing. Just a horse who would bow when asked. What kid wouldn’t like that? And she’d wanted to find a special horse for Grace. Maybe this was the one.

Alex winked at Cassie, the only sign that he was equally intrigued. He looked back at Judith. “I’d like to ride this horse, please,” he said.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

 

 

Cassie watched as Alex cantered Freckles in a perfect figure eight, the lead changes precise, clean and balanced. He was a superb rider and made every horse he rode look better. Of course he’d taken lessons at a very young age, from a variety of instructors. And he’d excelled at every discipline. His father had made sure of that.

She glanced back at Wally who was staring at Alex in awe. “Damn,” he said. “I didn’t know Freckles could do that. Guess Dan should raise his price.”

But his words were accompanied with a good-natured grin. Wally, like Dan, was a horse lover and more concerned about finding Freckles a good home. She’d always be grateful that he’d hired her, especially since she’d had no experience galloping racehorses.

“It was nice to see everyone today,” she said. “Including Peanut.”

“Yeah, that little guy is still a nuisance.” Wally gestured over his shoulder at the pony. “Look at him. Acts like he’s king of the hill.”

Peanut swished his thick tail and sauntered across the manicured lawn, pausing to snatch a bite beside the ‘Keep Off The Grass’ sign. His ears pricked when he spotted Freckles. He broke into a bouncy trot and hurried toward the riding ring. The four-foot fence didn’t slow him. He simply bent to his knees and scooted beneath the lower rail, emerging at a trot on the other side.

“Wow, he’s agile,” Cassie said. “Doesn’t move like a senior.”

“Yeah, he’s had some setbacks but the oxygen chamber helps. He’ll probably be around for another decade, crawling under fences and teasing clients’ horses.” Wally shook his head but Cassie knew he adored the pony every bit as much as Peanut’s owners.

Freckles had stopped cantering and stood in the center of the ring on a loose rein, with Alex tall in the saddle. Both man and horse eyed the loose pony with a similar degree of bemusement.

Peanut seemed to consider Freckles an interloper and charged toward him, ears back and shaking his head. But Freckles ignored the pony’s bluster, waiting to take his direction from Alex. Peanut circled Freckles twice then nipped at the horse’s hind leg. Freckles simply swished his tail, looking as amused as Alex.

Cassie gave a relieved smile. “Freckles is a confident horse. Nice to see he’s unfazed by other animals. That’s helpful in polo.”

“He’s not fazed by anything,” Wally said. “We don’t have a mallet here but I’ve stood on his back and swung a broom, brushing cobwebs off the rafters. He didn’t mind at all. He’d be great for a nine-year-old.”

Cassie jerked her head sideways, surprised he knew Grace’s age. Alex was close-mouthed about everything, but especially family. She’d introduced him to Wally but the two men hadn’t had much time to talk. Alex had been too busy with Freckles.

“Did Alex mention his daughter?” she asked curiously.

“Must have.” Wally turned and jabbed his thumb at the gate. “Alex can ride Freckles along that path if he wants to check the horse out on the trail.”

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