Racing Toward Love (Horses Heal Hearts Book 2)

by Kimberly Beckett

  After finishing what Ian declared was the best hamburger he had ever eaten, the waitress cleared their table. The band, which had been on a break, reappeared. They immediately started playing The Red Hot Chili Peppers song “Higher Ground.” Megan smiled in delight. “This is one of my favorite songs to dance to.” The band was really on tonight, and the drum beat vibrated through the whole club, seemingly engulfing everyone there in the magnetic, pulsating rhythm. Across the table, Ian moved in time with the infectious beat.

  Justin stood and reached out for Megan. “Then let’s dance, Megan.” He glanced over at Ian. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

  Megan looked at Ian questioningly, inviting him along. It seemed a little rude to leave him sitting there.

  Ian offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Go ahead.”

  There were several other couples dancing, so there wasn’t a lot of space, and Justin made the most of it, pressing his body close to hers as they moved in time with the music. She stepped back a few inches, but the floor was too crowded to allow her much space. She wondered what Ian was making of Justin’s close embrace, but Justin kept her turned away, so she couldn’t see Ian’s face.

  Suddenly, a large hand appeared on Justin’s shoulder.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to give it a try.” Ian’s voice barely suppressed a growl. The look he gave Justin should have frozen him, but Justin was surprisingly tenacious.

  “We’re not finished,” Justin snapped back. “You can have the next dance.”

  “I intend to, but I’d like the rest of this dance as well.” Ian stepped a little closer.

  Seeing an impending fight, Megan attempted to smooth things over. “Justin, it’s OK. I’m happy to dance with Ian for a while.”

  Justin didn’t appear to be at all happy with that answer, but he yielded. As he left the dance floor, Ian grinned triumphantly.

  The music was still playing, so Megan started dancing again, reaching out to Ian to encourage him to join her. Ian didn’t hesitate. He grabbed her hand and twirled her into his arms. Contrary to his earlier protestations, he was a very good dancer. Lithe and graceful, he moved like a predatory cat on the dance floor. Megan had no doubt who was in charge.

  She sent him a condemnatory look. “‘I don’t have a lot of practice’ my arse,” she said testily.

  Ian had the courtesy to look a bit sheepish.

  “Well, I haven’t been on the dance floor for a while, but back when I was on active duty, we used dance as a way to stay limber and balanced. You would be surprised to know how many martial arts moves are just lethal dance routines.”

  “Now that you mention it, you’re right,” she acknowledged.

  All the time they had been dancing, Megan noticed the number of women dancing close to them, and that the number seemed to be increasing. It appeared some of the women were hoping Ian would leave her to dance with them. The women went away disappointed.

  When the song ended, and the band started playing a ballad from the 1980’s: Chicago’s “You’re the Inspiration,” Ian pulled her into his arms and started swaying as the music surrounded them.

  Megan relaxed into Ian’s arms and took in his unique clean and masculine scent, pine with a hint of citrus, and allowed herself to feel surrounded by safety and comfort for the first time since they made love in the bed and breakfast in Brighton. Her highest high and lowest low had all happened that night, and it had changed everything for her. Did Ian remember it the same way she did? Was he regretting his rejection of her? What was he doing holding her and treating her as if she was his, when he had sent her away just weeks ago?

  She looked into his eyes and saw a flash of desire so intense it took her breath away. She pressed her body close to his and felt his reaction against her belly. She decided to take advantage of this lowering of his defenses and slowly moved her arms from around his waist to curl them around his neck. She lifted her mouth to his and brushed his lips with hers.

  Ian groaned as he surrendered to her invitation and plundered her mouth with his kiss. Just then, the music stopped, and Megan quietly suggested they leave the club and return to the Gibson’s home as soon as possible. With a grin, Ian agreed.

  ~ ~ ~

  When they arrived back at the Gibson’s place, to Justin’s annoyance, Megan bid him a hasty good night and accompanied Ian into the house. It was past midnight, and no one was awake when the two climbed the stairs. When they reached the hallway outside their rooms, Ian pulled Megan into his embrace and kissed her thoroughly. Megan couldn’t believe this change in Ian, but there was no way she would question him now.

  Ian cupped her jaw in his hand and whispered, “Megan, love, I want you so much. I’ve tried to leave you alone, but I can’t stay away from you anymore. Will you come to my bed?”

  “Yes, Ian,” Megan whispered. “I’m yours. I’ll always be yours. Make love to me.”

  Ian led her into his room, closed the door, and slowly undressed her until she was standing naked before him. He devoured her with his gaze, and her body heated under the attention. She reached out to him and pulled his shirt from out of his pants, and Ian helped her pull it over his head. She grew more impatient and tugged at his belt, and hurriedly unfastened his pants. Ian grinned at her impatience but hastily finished undressing, and then drew her back into his arms.

  He kissed her deeply, picked her up as if she weighed practically nothing, and gently laid her on his bed. He then covered her body with his, teasing her breasts with his tongue and causing her to writhe with need.

  “Ian, please. I need you. Now.”

  Ian reached into his nightstand and retrieved a condom, quickly rolled it on, and positioned himself at her entrance. “I’m right here, love. Just for you. Only for you.”

  Megan thrilled at his words. “Yes, Ian. Yes.”

  He pushed into her velvety heat and slowly and painstakingly built the tempo of his thrusts until they were both panting with exertion. Megan felt her core tension increase until she couldn’t stand it. Ian took one of her nipples in his mouth and suckled strongly as she went over the edge. Her senses exploded as her body massaged Ian’s hard cock still thrusting slowly inside her, milking her contractions until he couldn’t wait any longer and following her in a powerful release of his own. He collapsed, allowing his body to press Megan’s gently into the bed.

  Through the open window in Ian’s room, the sound of a Care Flight helicopter flying low overhead broke through the late-night stillness. Ian’s body instantly tensed, and he pushed himself abruptly away from her. Megan looked over at Ian with concern. She sensed his sudden withdrawal was related to the impact the sound of the medical helicopter flying over had caused in him. She looked into his eyes, and his gaze seemed unfocused as if he was no longer with her but was remembering something from his past.

  After a few minutes, Ian’s attention refocused on her, and he sat up in his bed, putting even more distance between them. “You’ll have to go back to your room now, Megan. It’s not safe for you to be here with me for the rest of the night.”

  Megan’s heart sank. Even after what they had just experienced, Ian was still going to push her away. “I don’t want to go, Ian. Please let me stay. It will be all right. I want to help you. There must be something I can do.”

  “No, love. I can’t take that chance.” He got out of the bed, disposed of his condom, and put his boxers back on. Then he stood at the door and reached out to her.

  Reluctantly, Megan got out of bed, put her clothes back on, and allowed Ian to lead her across the hall to her room. He pressed a tender kiss to her brow, went back to his room, and closed the door. She spent the rest of the night wondering what had just happened.

  ~ ~ ~

  After he retreated to his bed, Ian laid back, lacing his fingers together behind his head
as he stared blankly at the ceiling. Everything with Megan was going wonderfully until the moment the helicopter had flown over the house.

  At that moment, a vivid, graphic memory of that dusty road in Afghanistan had become more real to him than the woman he had just made love to. The fact that there was nothing he could do to ensure that moment would never happen again, hit him with the force of a Mack truck.

  He knew he had hurt Megan by sending her away, but better that than have her feel as though she had to do something to “fix” him. There was really nothing she could do to make his PTSD go away. This was his problem, and his problem alone, to deal with. He would be less of a man if he relied on her to solve his problems. She had to understand that.

  Chapter 20

  Before meeting Megan, Ian had not known that many thoroughbred race horses were never turned out once they started their racing careers. Although Daniel, like most European racing trainers, didn’t believe in the practice, the Gibsons still believed horses actively racing should not be turned out. Since Biscuit was new to the farm, the Gibsons has insisted he be kept in. They didn’t want to be responsible for Biscuit being injured while turned out in one of their fields with one or more of their horses. Daniel had grudgingly accepted that.

  Unfortunately, according to Daniel, horses left to stand in their stalls for hours at a time, with little or nothing to occupy their minds, developed annoying and sometimes destructive habits due to boredom. Ian had, therefore, started a regular habit of visiting Biscuit’s stall every day for an hour or so to give the stallion some attention and to occupy his mind. Ian benefited as well in that he could talk through his problems with the stallion without judgment.

  ~ ~ ~

  They were beginning their sixth week in Kentucky, and it had been three days since Ian and Megan had made love, and he had sent her away. Megan was keeping their interactions polite but distant, apparently not willing to open herself to any more hurt than she had already experienced at his hands. He couldn’t very well blame her. He had been erratic and inconsistent in his affections with her. That was why it was better they be apart, although a part of him suffered for the lack of Megan’s closeness. To help keep his mind off of the separation, he buried himself in preparations for their return trip to the U.K. in less than a week.

  As luck would have it, today was also a therapy day, and as Ian walked into Dr. Glenn’ office, he found he was actually looking forward to today’s therapy session. There were some things that had come up in his time with Biscuit that he wanted to discuss.

  Dr. Glenn greeted Ian warmly, “Hello, Ian. Before we begin working through your scheduled CPT session, is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

  “Yes, Doctor, there are actually a couple of things that have come up that I’d like to share with you.”

  “Very good. Please go on.”

  “First, on the positive side, I was able to work through some of the issues I have with my responsibility for Neil’s death. As I’ve reflected over our time together, I realized that Neil was very much his own man. Ultimately, though, he was a soldier, and soldiers must follow orders. Where I still have difficulty is that although Neil and I were close, I’m not certain he had a great deal of respect for me as a leader. In that way, I’m still loathe to absolve myself from responsibility. As a leader, it’s my responsibility to command the respect of the men under me. If there was something in my behavior or conduct that led to Neil’s lack of respect for my leadership, then I’m still responsible for his failure to follow my orders on the day he was killed.

  Dr. Glenn nodded her understanding of Ian’s conclusions. “All right, duly noted. What else do you have to tell me?”

  “Well.” Ian cleared his throat in an attempt to ease his discomfort in sharing this other development. “I succumbed to my desires and made love to Megan Brady.”

  Dr. Glenn did not appear terribly surprised or bothered by Ian’s confession. “Can you tell me how this is particularly significant for your therapy?”

  Ian nodded. “The windows were open in my bedroom, and after we made love, I heard a medical helicopter flying low over the house. I was immediately taken back mentally and emotionally to that day in Afghanistan, and while I didn’t freeze or black out, I did feel a rush of panic and had to fight the urge to rush to take cover. My reaction made it obvious to me I am still far from recovered.”

  Dr. Glenn nodded. “Ian, you have to be patient with yourself. The experience you had in Afghanistan was life-changing. You won’t be able to forget it easily. Please believe me that, although it will take time, things will get better. I’m actually encouraged by what you’ve told me today. I believe you’re making excellent progress.”

  On his way home from his therapy session, Ian decided to call Michael and check in. It had been weeks since the two had last spoken, and Ian was missing the contact.

  “Hey, Mike, how are things going at home?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it, Ian, there are members of the press camped outside the farm waiting for a glimpse of Seabiscuit II.”

  “What? You’re joking.”

  “I wish I were. Ever since you left, the press has been hounding Uncle Tommy and me, and I understand they’re monitoring the Bradys’ racing stables, looking for that bloody horse. They’ve even offered a reward for anyone who can tell them where the Bradys are hiding him. It’s incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Amazing! What kind of reward are they offering?”

  “I’ve heard they’ll pay one hundred thousand pounds for a confirmed siting.”

  “My God! That’s a lot of money. You’re not going to turn us in, are you?” he teased.

  “No worries, mate. Your secret is safe with us. Be careful, though. Someone over there might find out about the reward and turn you in. I’d keep a low profile if I were you.”

  “Good advice. Thanks. I’d better go and give the Bradys this news. They may want to call their farm manager and make sure they have everything under control. Daniel didn’t tell many of his staff where we were going just for this reason, but it wouldn’t hurt to double check. That kind of money can change people’s priorities. Take care of yourself and give my best to Jess.”

  “Will do, brother. Take care of yourself and give the Bradys our best as well.”

  Ian frowned. One hundred thousand pounds was certainly a lot of money. They had been careful not to publicize their presence. Only the Saint Claire’s, more specifically Justin, knew they were here. As far as he knew, Justin didn’t need the money, but that didn’t mean he could be trusted.

  ~ ~ ~

  Quinn O’Reilly was ecstatic when one of his informants in the London media called to let him know a source in the U.S. had revealed that the elusive Seabiscuit II was training at a farm in Lexington, Kentucky. It didn’t take much digging to discover that the owners of the farm were the parents of Daniel Brady’s deceased wife. Perfect! They had another potential avenue for leverage against the Bradys. It was even more pleasing to know that the source in Kentucky was a neighbor of the Gibsons: Justin Saint Claire. He claims to have personally seen the Bradys and the horse and has provided proof: photos of Megan Brady and her father with Seabiscuit II taken just a week ago.

  Now that he had the Brady family in his sights, fulfilling his promise to his father should be easy. Quinn almost hoped the Bradys would fight, however, because his informant also told him Ian Stafford had accompanied the Brady family and was acting as a body guard of sorts for them. Even the thought of Stafford in his sights made Quinn’s eyes gleam with hatred. It was Stafford who had killed his best mate, and he was eager to avenge Mack’s death. If Quinn had anything to do with it, Stafford would die.

  He turned to the two men he had personally selected to back him up. “Pack up your gear and get ready. We’re flying to the States, leaving tonight. We hav
e a job to do.” The men quickly complied.

  An hour later, the three men boarded the O’Reilly family’s private jet. Each man had packed a 9-millimeter hand gun and one semi-automatic rifle. The O’Reilly jet had a hidden compartment specially designed for transporting the family’s weapons without alerting customs authorities. The three knew exactly how the game was played. Once the weapons were secured, the jet departed immediately for Lexington.

  Two days later, Quinn stood with one of his men beside their parked SUV, watching through binoculars as Stephen Brady worked Seabiscuit II over the rolling hills of Whiskey Ridge. He watched as Stephen grinned, crouched low over the horse’s neck, and urged him into a full-speed gallop.

  Quinn wasn’t an expert on horses, but it appeared to even his untrained eye that after nearly six weeks of regular training in Lexington, the horse was getting stronger. That information boded well for his family’s plans for the horse. If the public was convinced the stallion would be unbeatable at the St Leger Stakes race and win the Triple Crown, the betting on him would be furious.

  Stephen slowed Biscuit to negotiate a section of the trail closest to the road where Quinn was standing. Stephen suddenly looked up, blinked, and looked directly at Quinn. Quinn cursed when he realized a reflection of the sun off of his binoculars had betrayed his presence. Then he thought some more. That’s all right. Let them see me. Odds are they’ll panic that their hiding place has been discovered, and they’ll run at the first opportunity. Once we’ve flushed them out, they’ll be fair game on the road.

  Quinn stood his ground and continued to watch as Stephen immediately steered Biscuit into a nearby stand of trees. Having lost sight of Biscuit and Stephen, Quinn slowly re-entered the vehicle and called his father.