by Miranda Lee
Strangely, she wasn't much of a gambler herself. Her thrill whenever a Crosswinds-bred horse raced was just as great with or without a the bet on it. She didn't need any extra adrenaline charge. Her excitement level was already at its zenith, just watching one of their horses run around. To see it win was the ultimate joy.
Her heart contracted at this last thought. If only her mum could have been here today. She loved it when one of her horses won.
Though hi this instance it was a case of if, not when.
'If you're watching from up there, Mum,' she murmured under her breath with an upward glance into the clear blue sky, 'then ask the Lord for a little help. No, a lot of help. This is Big Brutus here. As you know, the best he's finished so far is second. In a maiden!'
The reality of Big Brutus's past form hit home and Courtney sighed Lois really shouldn't build people's hopes up.
By the time Jack returned to lead her up into the stand to watch the race, Big Brutus' price had tumbled to an alarming six to one.
'My God, how much money did you put on?' she questioned as they squeezed into a spot in the stands not too far from the winning post.
'Nothing I can't afford,' he returned calmly.
'Yeah, right And if Big Brutus doesn't win? I'll bet come Monday you'll be heading for the dole queue.'
'But you said he would win.'
'I said no such thing!' she protested. 'I said he looked well. If you want to lose the rest of your savings on a stupid horse race, then that's your problem. I didn't twist your arm.'
True,' he said with a smile.
He wouldn't be looking so cool when Big Brutus ran down the track, Courtney thought angrily. Men! Egotistical fools, the lot of them!
Despite her dismissal of any personal responsibility for Jack's bet, Courtney's stomach began churning and chundering like an old washing machine stuck on the spin cycle.
"They're off!' she shouted simultaneously with the course commentator, every muscle in her body tightening.
It wasn't a big field. Only ten starters. But when Big Brutus settled down at the tail soon after the start, Courtney had to stifle a groan of dismay. As much as she kept telling herself this was Randwick, where horses could come from behind once they topped the rise into the straight, Big Brutus's record in races up till now didn't help. He was a good stayer, all right. He usually stayed at the back of the field.
By the time they reached the back straight, with half the race already over, Big Brutus was still running last. Admittedly, the front runners were setting a brisk pace, which meant they might tire, and Big Brutus did look as if he was just jogging.
'Get a move on, you ugly old brute!' she burst out at long last.
'You talking about the horse or the jockey?' Jack quipped drily out of the side of his mouth.
She threw him a vicious glance, warning him that any smart-alec chitchat was not a good idea at this stage of proceedings. But he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were glued to his binoculars.
'Move him up closer,' Courtney urged loudly from the stand, cupping her hands around her mouth as though by some miracle this action would funnel the advice half a mile away.
'Now, that's definitely advice for the jockey,' Jack muttered, bringing an exasperated sigh from Courtney.
'It's your money going down the gurgler,' she pointed out tartly, whereupon Jack dropped his binoculars and started shouting advice as well.
They both fell deathly silent, however, when the field swung into the straight and a still trailing Big Brutus was pulled out into the centre of the track to make his run. His long legs lengthened stride and he began to gobble up his opposition. With a furlong to go he swept past the tiring front runners.
"The ugly old brute is going to win,' Jack said with awe in his voice. 'Lois was right!'
The reality of his words snapped Courtney out of her own frozen state of shock, and she started jumping up and down. 'Go, boy, go!' she chanted like a demented rock groupie. 'Go! Go! Go!'
Big Brutus went all right, leading the field by ten lengths, stretching out his neck at the winning post as all really good racehorses do. An ecstatic Courtney threw her arms around Jack. 'He won!' she cried. 'He won!'
'He sure did,' Jack said, grinning and making no attempt to disengage her.
'You must have won a good bit,' she said, so pleased for him.,
'More than a good bit. The bookie is going to be the one heading for the dole queue after he pays me out, I can assure you.'
'Fantastic! Lois, did you hear that? Jack won a stack on Big Brutus.'
Lois didn't hear a thing. She was too busy hugging everyone within hugging distance. It suddenly crossed Courtney's mind that Katrina was probably watching all this hooha from somewhere in the crowded stand. With that thought in mind, she launched herself up on tiptoe and kissed Jack full on the mouth.
For a second or two, she thought he was going to spoil everything and push her way.
But he didn't do any such thing. He did just the opposite. He yanked her hard against him and kissed her back, kissed her with an incredibly explosive passion, kissed her till everything in her head was scattered to the four winds and there was nothing but his lips grinding against hers, his tongue deep in her mouth, and his hands burning hot through her clothes.
And then...then he pushed her away.
She gasped and stared up at him with startled eyes. He laughed softly, gathering her close again. She didn't resist. She couldn't resist
Amazing...
'Be careful what you start wanting, Courtney Cross,' he whispered into her ear. 'Or you just might get it'
Lois's tapping Jack on the shoulder had him drawing back once more.
'Hate to interrupt, folks,' she said, giving a flushed Courtney a raised-eye glance. 'But it's time to go lead Big Brutus in. Would you like to do the honours, Courtney?'
Courtney snapped out of her highly uncharacteristic fluster to congratulate Lois on her brilliant training of Big Brutus, grateful for the opportunity to turn her mind from Jack's kiss. She'd been dangerously turned on there for a while. And he'd known it.
Courtney never liked a man to think he had her at a disadvantage. She liked to call the shots in every aspect of her life. And that included her sex life.
'You do realise you're leading in a Melbourne Cup contender,' Lois remarked happily as the three of them made their way downstairs.
The Melbourne Cup! Courtney had to admire Lois's optimism. Admittedly, after today, she respected the woman's judgement a good deal more. But Australia's premier staying race over two miles was a big step up from today's mediocre-class handicap.
'You've actually entered him?' Courtney asked, knowing that was not a cheap exercise in itself.
'Your mother did.'
'My God, wasn't that just like her?'
'Your mother knew what she was doing, Courtney. The horse has got a good chance. It's a handicap race, remember? Big Brutus will get in with a very light weight. Of course, he'll have to win one of the qualifying lead-up races to ensure him of a start. But he'll do that easily, after today.'
'Lord, don't say 'things like that in front of Jack!' Courtney exclaimed. 'Or he'll make Big Brutus favourite next time! He might even be tempted to take some of those ridiculous odds they give Melbourne Cup entries months in advance.'
It was three months till the big race itself took place, on the first Tuesday in November. A veritable lifetime in horse racing. A million things could happen to stop them even taking their place at the start!
And then there was the race itself. Twenty top stayers from all over the world vying for the biggest prize money on the Australian racing calendar, every owner trying, every jockey riding more recklessly and ruthlessly than usual.
'Tell Jack not to waste his winnings, Lois,' Courtney advised firmly. 'Tell him to wait and see how things pan out.'
'As long as Jack's paying Big Brutus's training fees,' Lois said, I'll be telling him the truth as I see it. Big Brutus has a good chance in
the Cup, Jack. Make no mistake about that. And I'll get him to the post. Make no mistake about that, either. Your money could do worse than to ride round on such a noble animal's back.'
Courtney rolled her eyes at Jack, who tactfully smothered his laughter.
They'd barely made it downstairs and out onto the grass when a tall, balding chap with a microphone grabbed Lois for an on-the-spot television interview.
Courtney hurried over to lead Big Brutus back into the number one gate, patting his sweaty neck and telling him what a good horse.he was before remembering to congratulate the jockey on his brilliantly patient ride.
'Just followed instructions,' the jockey said. 'Frankly, you could have knocked me over with a feather when he took off like he did. Never done that before. Still, now that he's hit his straps, I think the big boy will go on to better things. I'd be very happy to have the ride on him again, no matter what race he starts in.'
'What was the jockey saying to you?' Jack asked on her eventually returning to his side.
'He wants to ride Big Brutus, no matter what race he's entered in.'
'And what do you think?'
'I think you kiss very well.' Couldn't leave him thinking he'd really rattled her.
He shook his head, laughing. 'You're incorrigible, do you know that?'
'Agnes tells me as much, practically every day.'
'Who's Agnes?'
'She's the housekeeper at Crosswinds. She's also the woman who delivered me. Mum hired her when she was pregnant because of Agnes's midwifery skills. She didn't want any man attending to her, you see. Agnes helped raise me, too. But she gave up when I was around seven. They say that's the age of reason. Agnes claims seven was the age of my becoming unreasonable.'
'Perceptive woman, this Agnes.'
'Really!'
'Well, you do suffer from a serious lack of discipline and self-control. One day someone is going to have to take you in hand.'
'Mmm. Sounds kinky. Would you like to volunteer?"
'I thought I already warned you about being provocative.'
'Hey, it was your tongue halfway down my throat,' she tossed at him, 'not the other way around.'
'And weren't you loving it?'
'Is that a crime?'
'No. It's a bloody temptation,' he growled.
'Stop scowling,' she ordered. 'Superbitch is making her way out for the presentation.'
'Superbitch' He practically choked.
'Yeah.' Courtney grinned up at him. 'Good name for her, isn't it?'
He chuckled darkly. 'You could say that. But you could also say that a certain Ms Courtney Cross runs a close second in the Superbitch stakes.'
Courtney fluttered her eyelashes up at him in mock coyness. 'Who? Li'l ole me? I'm just a poor country girl, trying to keep my head in the company of one very handsome city slicker.'
'Who do you think you're kidding, sweetheart? You could eat this city slicker for breakfast, then spit me out by lunch-time before getting on your horse and riding out of town without a backward glance.'
'You think so?'
'Honey, I know so. I've always been attracted to strong-willed, independent women with more hide than an elephant, so don't come any of that soft-soap rubbish with me. It won't wash. Now, put on your best Supersiren smile, if you must, and we'll go face Superbitch together.'
So saying, Jack slid an uncompromisingly steely arm around her waist and steered her over to where preparations for the presentation had been carried out on the lawn in front of the members' stand. There was a table which held three magnificent silver and crystal trophies, one large one for the owners, and two smaller replicas for the trainer and jockey, plus a microphone on a stand waiting to service the various speakers.
Oddly, acting the part of Jack's girlfriend during the ceremony didn't amuse Courtney as much this time. She was far too aware of that firm arm around her waist, and the way it kept her glued to his side. It was one thing to admire Jack's macho body from a distance, quite another to feel various muscular parts of it hard up against her, and around her.
There was his long, strong thigh for starters. And the long, strong side of his chest. But mostly that long, strong arm, with its long, strong fingers, whose fingertips began tapping on her hip halfway through the sponsor's speech.
Each tap sent tiny sparks of electricity dancing all through her body, heating her blood and heightening her concern over the ease with which Jack could turn her on. He wasn't even kissing her this time. Just touching her.
No man had ever made her feel what Jack was making her feel, and she wasn't sure if she liked it, or not
If Katrina hadn't been watching them so closely, she might have pulled away from him and put an end to this highly unusual state of affairs. But awareness of those jealous green eyes fixed on them both had her staying right where she was and smiling adoringly up at him whenever he smiled adoringly down at her.
But once the presentation ceremony was over she excused herself and made a dash for the nearest powder room. She desperately needed a few minutes alone to gather herself. And to think.
She took her time in the cubicle, and was taken aback when she emerged to find Katrina leaning against the vanities, obviously waiting for her. The powder room was strangely empty apart from themselves, yet when she'd first come in the place had been quite crowded.
'I just wanted you to know a few facts of life, little Miss Smug,' Katrina said with cold fury in her voice. 'Jack Falconer does not love you. He'll never love you. So when you're lying in his arms and mooning over how great he is in bed, just remember that it's me he's thinking of when he makes love to you. Not you, honey. Me. Katrina. The love of his life.'
Courtney stared at her. The woman was either a complete nutter or she was telling the truth. Unfortunately, her words had a ring of truth about them.
Courtney did the only thing she could do under the circumstances. She went on the attack.
'Hello? And what planet are you from, Ms Seriously Deluded?' she shot back. 'Love of his life? Huh! That's a laugh. Jack has nothing but contempt for you. You're history. So get the hell out of here and go back to your geriatric husband. And when you're lying in his tired old arms tonight, know that Jack won't be thinking about you. No man thinks of anyone but me when I make love to them, honey. I make sure of that.'
Those already glacial green eyes narrowed to icy slits. 'I'm not the one who's seriously deluded around here. No doubt Jack has fed you a tissue of lies to suit his own agenda. But, believe me, Jack is still mad about me. You're just a stand-in, a cypher, a second-rate substitute. I could get him back just like that...'' she snapped her fingers'...whenever I want.'
'Prove it,' an increasingly angry Courtney challenged. 'Go out there and get him back. Right now. I dare you to try.' .
'Very well. I presume you're seeing Jack tonight, since you're so inseparable?'
Oops. She would call her bluff, wouldn't she? 'Of course,' Courtney snapped. 'He'll make some excuse not to see you.'
'Why?'
'Because he'll be with me.'
'I don't believe you.'
'You will.' Her smile was pure malice as she spun on her high heels, clicked open the lock on the door, wrenched the door open and left, stepping over the 'Room Being Cleaned' sign she'd obviously placed outside the door to keep people away.
A strangely shaken Courtney stayed in the powder room, washing her hands for longer than necessary, her mind revolving. Her well-honed survival instinct warned her to cut and run where Jack Falconer was concerned, to have no more to do with him. He was trouble. Big trouble. And she needed big trouble in her life just now like she needed a hole in the head.
At the same time, she simply couldn't bear to let that ghastly creature get away with calling her names. To label her a stand-in and a cypher was bad enough. But second-rate? There was nothing second-rate about her abilities in bed! Men had lost their heads over her in that regard.
This last thought brought Courtney back to the crux of h
er earlier worries, which were that maybe this time she might be the one who lost her head.
Her mother had always warned about the power that lay within some special men, the power to turn normally intelligent, independent females into simpering idiots and mindless sex slaves.
Courtney appreciated the warning, not just because of the way her own father had effortlessly seduced her strong-willed man-hating mother, but because of the evidence of her own eyes over the years. She'd seen the most hard-nosed tomboy stable girl reduced to mush when a certain type of guy came along. And she'd known quite a few level-headed girls fall pregnant to highly unsuitable charmers.
Why?
They all claimed they'd fallen in love, as if that excused everything. At least her mother hadn't used that excuse. She'd known exactly what had propelled her into her gypsy lover's bed. Courtney' didn't believe love had anything to do with those other girls' stupid behaviour, either. It was not love that made them lose all common sense, but a serious case of uncontrollable lust.
Now, ordinary estrogen-based female lust, Courtney was well-acquainted with. Uncontrollable lust, however, was another matter, and not something Courtney thought she would ever encounter, or entertain. Jack was wrong about her having no discipline and self-control. She had a lot of self-control, and exercised it ruthlessly when it came to her sex life. Her relationships with men—such as they were—never got out of hand.
But she'd had a small taste of that other land of lust now and, whilst it was disturbing, it was also incredibly exciting and unbelievably seductive. How would it feel to surrender herself mindlessly to a man, just once?
Surely she could handle one night of unbridled passion without totally losing it afterwards. Common sense was bound to return, once the cold light of day arrived and the heat of the moment was over.
Courtney stopped washing her hands and stared up at herself in the vanity mirror. The girl who stared back looked no different from the Courtney Cross she was used to. Her eyes often glittered like that. And her cheeks... Well, so what if they were a bit flushed? She'd just had a run-in with Superbitch!