by Laura Moore
Quickly, before she lost her nerve, Ty grabbed the metal handle on the molded plastic door of the portable toilet, resisting the urge to glance over her shoulder and see how far back Sam was standing, waiting. She opened the door wide, moving her body behind it so that she was blocked from view. Yuck! The stench of cherry-scented cleanser liberally mixed with fermenting urine assaulted her nostrils, about a hundred times more awful in this heat. She held her breath and pulled the door after her. Praying that Sam’s eyes had strayed momentarily as she’d stepped inside, she abruptly reopened the door, slipped out from behind it, and dashed around the back of the tall, rectangular toilet. Lizzie was already there, flushed with excitement.
“Quick, hurry! I saw which way they went!”
“This is crazy!”
“Yeah, isn’t it fun?” Lizzie grabbed Ty’s hand. Giggling, breathless adolescents, the two girls ran, weaving in and out of the tall metal alleyways of the parked vans.
2
“ U h, Allegra, could you please hold on a minute . . .” Steve’s hands pulled at Allegra Palmer’s elbows, in the hopes of loosening her manacle hold. He stepped back, creating as much space as he could between himself and Allegra’s hungry mouth.
What was up with these rich girls? Allegra had pounced on him as soon as they reached the van. It felt as if she’d smeared crazy glue on top of her lip gloss. To make things worse, she had arms like an octopus on amphetamines. It was a bit scary, actually. He didn’t really want to be devoured in the back of a horse van, at least not by Allegra Palmer.
Christ, his pop had warned him to steer clear of rich men’s daughters. Especially if he happened to be working for the rich man. Those girls were always more trouble than they were worth. Even if Steve didn’t always take it, Pop’s advice was worth listening to. In this instance, Steve had recognized the wisdom of his father’s words and had been keeping a safe distance from Allegra for some time. Unfortunately, since returning home for summer vacation from her first year away at college, Allegra seemed even less perceptive than before she’d left. She refused to understand his polite refusals and gentle rejections for what they truly were: a complete lack of interest. It was a real problem. How did one come right out and tell the daughter of the man who was giving Steve a quarter-of-a-million-dollar horse to ride that she was becoming a royal pain in the butt and that all that suction-cup kissing and mad grinding of her body wasn’t quite the turn-on she imagined?
Steve hadn’t yet figured out the answer to that one.
Hell, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She wasn’t so bad, though definitely too pushy. And oversexed to boot. Generally, Steve didn’t mind oversexed. But he liked to be the one to choose. At this point he was feeling like a hunted animal, with Allegra hauling around an arsenal that would do Rambo proud. And now she was at it again. Relentless. She’d taken advantage of his momentary distraction to wiggle her way closer, her breath all catchy, her fingers moving up the sides of his polo shirt. She was planting little kisses along his jaw, her hands reaching around his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers. He stiffened, holding his neck rigid, but to his chagrin, Steve realized she’d backed him up against the inside of the van. Dear God, she was trying to have her way with him.
A burst of high-pitched giggles saved him. His only thought, hallelujah! Allegra heard them, too, spinning around to locate the source of uncontrolled mirth, no doubt ready to give someone utter hell. Two girls stood on the wooden ramp leading up to the van. Framed by the sun, only their silhouettes were distinct. Steve didn’t know whether he knew them; he was just damn glad they were there, for whatever reason. Allegra, however, didn’t share his point of view.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded shrilly. “Don’t you know this is private property? Who do you think you are, trespassing like this?”
Since first laying eyes on Steve Sheppard, Allegra had been making her attraction for him crystal clear. He was a real catch. All the girls in her set were after him. He was so handsome, with those amazingly bright blue eyes. And she loved how that strong jaw ended in a square chin; his lips curling so easily into a sexy grin. And then there was his thick golden hair. The fact that he’d recently cut it so it was cropped close to his head didn’t deter Allegra from fantasizing about running her fingers through it. Thoughts of Steve occupied Allegra for hours at a time.
A few months ago, she’d been flipping through a magazine and had come across photographs taken of Paul Newman when he’d been in his twenties. She’d been completely bowled over. Steve Sheppard could have stood as his double. And if that weren’t enough to set a woman’s pulse fluttering, Steve had a Kentucky accent and a dimple when he smiled that could cause a total meltdown. An entire year had come and gone, with Allegra virtually throwing herself at him. To no avail. It was supremely frustrating, the way Steve constantly brushed her off and avoided her. Today, however, represented a major breakthrough, finally getting him alone for long enough to prove just how exciting a woman she could be. She’d do anything for him, she wanted him so bad. Now two idiotic kids had burst in, ruining everything. Allegra wanted to spit, she was so mad.
At her angry questioning, one of the girls had frozen. The other seemed incapable of controlling her fit of giggles.
Actually, Ty hadn’t been laughing at all, but as her hand was clamped over her mouth, neither Steve Sheppard nor Allegra Palmer could tell. Ty had instinctively tried to hide her expression of astonishment, embarrassment, and, worst of all, envy. She was fourteen and had never in her whole life witnessed two people in the midst of an intimate embrace. Sure, she’d seen stuff happen in movies and on TV, but that was nothing like seeing the real thing. She was still somewhat stunned, dazedly wondering whether she, too, would behave that way, if given the chance—would she plaster herself recklessly against the body of a man, kissing and kissing and kissing? Her eyes strayed to Steve Sheppard, and she blushed hotter than the ovenlike air around her.
Allegra didn’t like being ignored. These obnoxious little twits still hadn’t answered her, and she hadn’t succeeded in scaring them away, either.
“Steve.” Her voice was whiny, petulant. “Make them leave. They shouldn’t be hanging around here, anyway. No one who doesn’t ride with Golden Crest is supposed to be in the vans.” To hear her, one would think Allegra owned the stable.
“Lighten up, Allegra,” Steve replied with barely veiled impatience, disliking her attitude. Back home in Kentucky, it took far longer when talking to strangers to reach the level of rudeness Allegra so easily attained. “I don’t think these girls are planning on stealing any equipment, are you?” His gaze narrowed on them, trying to make out their features. All he could tell so far was that one of them was quite tall and thinner than a twig on a sapling. The other was perhaps four inches shorter and had lovely, eye-catching curves in all the right places. Both were wearing breeches and field boots. Their hair was pulled back tight and flattened smooth. A dead giveaway that they had on those thin, nylon hair nets trapping each strand of hair in place. Wildly unattractive, those hair nets, but the judges were extremely picky about proper attire. No loose hair flowing out from under hunt caps accepted. So the girls had to be riding today, they weren’t merely spectators, and both of them were young.
He saw the shorter one nudge the skinny one, forcing her to step forward up the ramp. By his side, Allegra stiffened, as if ready to pounce, perhaps strangle them with their hair nets if that’s what it would take to get rid of them.
No way did Steve want to be left alone with Allegra again. He might be forced to say something so brutal it would send her running off to Daddy Palmer. “Allegra, why don’t you go see whether Show Me is ready yet. I still have enough time to watch you school him over some fences before I have to warm up myself. Just got to find my chaps. Why don’t we meet outside in a few minutes at the warmup ring?” He dangled the carrot in front of her, sure Allegra would grab it. It wasn’t that she cared terribly much about preparing properly for her classes
. As a matter of fact, she was one of the laziest riders he’d ever seen, the hugely expensive horses bought by her doting parents an utter waste, except that those horses were so “made,” so well trained, they probably could jump the courses all by themselves. They might even do better without Allegra messing around with their mouths all the time. No, it wasn’t that Allegra wanted to learn anything from Steve. If she did, it was in the sack and not on a horse’s back. She’d agree to his suggestion because having other people see Steve Sheppard coach her conferred a huge cachet. Furthermore, it reinforced Allegra’s thoroughly misguided impression that she was actually a decent horsewoman. He was willing to foster the pretense just to get rid of her. A disgruntled Allegra breezed past them, her nose high in the air.
The shorter girl giggled again. “Man, is she ticked off!” This time, he saw the taller one nudge her companion warningly. “Oh, sorry about that,” the shorter one offered, not sounding sorry in the least.
“We just saw you and wanted a chance to say hi. You’re Ty’s idol.” Steve saw her elbow the tall girl in return. These two were going to end up with bruised ribs if they continued the mutual nudging much longer.
“You know,” the shorter one was still chattering away, as if she’d known Steve for years. “Ty’s taped all the big shows that have been aired on TV, just so she can watch you ride.”
At that, the tall girl dropped her head, the toe of her shiny black boot an object of intense fascination. Now all that was visible of her head was her dark brown hair, twisted into a long, flat knot at the back of her head. Steve felt kind of sorry for the kid; she was clearly awfully shy. He stepped forward, sticking out his hand close enough that it entered her field of vision.
The girl lifted her head, her eyes meeting his. Steve was close enough now to see the details of her face. High cheekbones that jutted sharply. Dark eyebrows arched in delicate wings. A straight, thin nose that ended in a flared bump. Lips pressed together, hiding what looked like the uncomfortable bulge of metal braces.
Steve supposed if one were being charitable, one might label the girl’s face attractive, but really it was too much like the rest of her: awkward and bony-looking. Not yet fully formed. When he saw her eyes, though, Steve couldn’t deny their beauty. A soft gray, speckled with black, they were huge, framed by thick, dark lashes. And they were fixed on him, filled with a wealth of emotion. The expression in them too grown-up, too passionate for someone so young, at odds with her wraith-like, undeveloped body. For a moment, Steve was taken aback.
Then, suddenly, she smiled. A quick, shy smile that lifted her lips, revealing the flash of steel wire and metal tracks. Vastly reassured by the sight of a mouth crammed full of braces, rubber bands, and God knows what other painful junk, Steve’s momentary unease evaporated. It’s cool, Shepp, he said to himself. She’s just a young kid with a big teen crush. Nothing more. Ty gazed into Steve Sheppard’s sparkling blue eyes and wanted never to look away. It was hard to believe that at long last her dream had come true. She was finally getting to meet him, stand close to him. He was everything she’d expected. He was kind, he was understanding. He was so good-looking. Already, he’d proven his innate chivalry by not kicking Ty and Lizzie out of the van and now, once again, by so courteously extending his hand to her.
How would it feel to touch him, feel his skin against hers? Would that spark of electricity, that shock of recognition, run through them both? Her eyes still fixed on his, she lifted her hand, meeting his, clasping it. A rush of absolute horror flooded her as the sugary coating of melted ice cream stuck to his warm, dry palm.
She wanted to die. She wanted to be vaporized and blown away, out of this universe. Where were black holes when you needed them?
The poor kid. Steve didn’t want to make her feel any worse by asking what exactly it was she’d just rubbed off on him, but Holy Mother of Christ, it was really sticky. He could still remember, though, what it had been like at her age, when every little thing could strangle him with embarrassment. The girl, Ty, was beyond embarrassment, moving on to the tears phase, her face kind of crumpled into itself. Maybe talking would snap her out of it, maybe cheer her up enough that he could send her and her friend on their way and get a few moments of blessed peace.
“Well, uh, Ty,” Steve said as cheerfully as he could, while surreptitiously wiping his palm against the leg of his jeans. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Who’s your friend?”
At the sound of his voice, Ty struggled to find her composure. She’d lost it some time ago, back when she and Lizzie had walked in on Allegra kissing Steve. That Steve Sheppard was still willing to talk to her, Ty, a total idiot who couldn’t even keep her hands clean, was nothing less than a miracle. She wasn’t going to make a fool of herself a second time.
“This is Lizzie, Mr. Sheppard. Lizzie Osborne.”
This girl, Ty, was certainly unusual. Sticky, gummy hands and now this. Speaking so properly, her tone so polite and formal, she could have been the hostess at a tea party. Real proper. The kind of girl his Granny Polly would like.
He nodded, giving the other girl an easy smile, careful-not to shake her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Lizzie, and both of you can call me Steve. How old are you, by the way?”
“Sixteen.” “Fourteen.” They replied simultaneously, drowning each other out. Ty shot her friend a cryptic look. Lizzie shrugged carelessly.
“Uh, Ty’s fourteen, but she’ll be turning fifteen really soon. I’m sixteen,” Lizzie said, smiling confidently, knowing he’d believe her. She refused to feel guilty about stretching the truth. She knew enough about guys to realize Steve Sheppard wasn’t about to stick around and shoot the breeze with a couple of fourteen-year-olds.
So Lizzie was sixteen, Steve thought. Still jail bait, though, which was too bad. She was already a real eyeful. As sweet-looking as a Georgia peach. Lovely reddish-gold hair, bright blue smiling eyes, and a mouth shaped like Cupid’s bow. Her body looked as tempting as a summer peach, too. Had she been a few years older, Steve would have been two steps away from asking her out, but he knew better than to go down that road. He’d had enough female trouble for one morning.
“You girls riding today?” A no-brainer.
“Medal, Maclay, and a couple of other classes, too,” Lizzie replied. She shot Ty an impatient look. If Ty would only speak up! But she was probably still in shock over Lizzie fibbing about her age. It worried Lizzie that Ty might blow her big chance if she didn’t start talking soon. It wasn’t as though Steve Sheppard was just going to hang around all day! Well, if Ty was too shy, Lizzie was more than willing to do a little bragging on her best friend’s behalf. “If Ty wins her classes today, she’ll be qualified for regionals in both the Maclay and the Medal. Isn’t that right?” She gave a hard nudge. Ty just nodded, a blush staining her cheeks.
“What about you, Lizzie, you close to qualifying?”
“Not yet.” Lizzie grinned, unconcerned. “I mostly come in second or third. You see, Ty and I go to practically all the same shows, and she’s tough to beat. I’m hoping she’ll win today so I won’t have so much competition.” She laughed as Ty made a sound of protest.
“And if you win, Ty, what’ll you show in afterward?” Steve asked in an effort to draw the kid out of her shell. Though he’d never competed in them himself, having gone straight into jumper classes, the Medal and Maclay events represented the top level of equitation and hunter classes for riders under the age of eighteen. After that, one usually chose either to follow the jumper route or to show primarily in the hunter division.
“I’m hoping to persuade my father to let me start riding in Junior Jumper. Then one day, if I get that far, I’d like to compete in Open Jumper, maybe even Grand Prix. Like you. Will you be riding Soir?e and Palomar today?”
Steve nodded. “And tomorrow I’ll be entering another horse, a new one, Jasmine. Allegra, that girl you saw a moment ago, her family owns the mare.”
“I hope you win. You deserve to,” Ty offered softly.
“Well, good luck to both of you. I’d better go and catch up with Allegra. If you start riding in jumper classes, Ty, pretty soon you’ll be competing against Allegra. Bet you’ll beat her, too.” He winked, smiling at the awestruck expression on her face. Right, time to grab his chaps from his tack box and get the hell out of there. But Ty’s voice had him glancing at her one more time.
He’d winked at her. How personal, intimate. Surely it meant he liked her somewhat. The thought gave her the courage to ask, “Mr. Sheppard . . . I mean, Steve, do you think . . . could I please have your autograph?”
The request came out a hushed whisper. Man, she really had it bad. He’d known her for all of, what, three minutes, and already he could sense how much a request like this cost her. Steve gave her a warm smile, utterly unaware of how handsome, how wonderfully dashing he appeared. Quickly, he scanned the back of the van, searching for a hidden pen. Nothing, only saddles and tack boxes. He patted his jeans pockets on the off chance and felt it.
“Hold on a sec. I have something better than an autograph I can give you. Here, take this.” He dug his hand in his jeans and fished out something round and flat. “Here, let me give you this instead. My pop gave it to me. It’s from a race he won way back when, as a young jockey just starting out. Go ahead, take it,” he encouraged. “It’ll bring you luck.” Resting on his palm, a flat silver medallion glinted in the soft light.