Billionaire's Nanny (A Billionaire Romance)

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Billionaire's Nanny (A Billionaire Romance) Page 143

by Alexa Davis


  “This handsome boy’s name is Texas Tango. Named, ironically, for me and my brother Caleb, though he lives in California, where my father was stationed for a bit.” I turned the laptop so both men could view the jpeg. “I have first right of refusal for stud use of Texas T, if and when I need him.” I pulled up the page behind the first and showed them another image. “Now, this guy is Pioneer of the Nile, sire of American Pharaoh, and granddaddy to our little stud-muffin, Texas Tango.”

  I looked at the men, waiting for a reaction. When none was forthcoming, I continued with a sigh. “Pioneer came in second at the Kentucky Derby, and Pharaoh was the triple crown winner just last year.” Daniel’s eyes lit up.

  “Wait. You can get us triple crown lineage?” he asked.

  “Would I be so arrogant about it if I couldn’t?” I replied. Daniel laughed out loud and grabbed me, spinning me in a circle. “Woah boy,” I hissed, begging to be put down. “I’m still feeling less like a girl, and more like a Vicodin grew like a cocoon around me and I’ve yet to spring free as a psychedelic butterfly. Don’t forget to make note of that when I accidentally toss my cookies all over you,” I half-teased. Breakfast wasn’t thanking me for the spinning, but I was actually feeling a lot better than I had been.

  “Texas Tango, huh?” Daniel’s father said from behind me.

  “Yeah. I called him Texas T, when the cameras weren’t on,” I admitted. “But the cameras were never for me, anyway.”

  Daniel’s mouth was tantalizingly close to me when he whispered, “Not yet, but I’m sure they will be.”

  I was filled with equal parts terror and the thrill of adventure. Mr. Hargrave was nearly convinced; I could feel it. My dream of breeding a new racer that could outrun all others was mere inches away from being a reality. The idea of being in front of cameras made my stomach lurch again, but really, I could dodge a few cameras to see my dream come true.

  “I will, ah, take it under consideration,” Mr. Hargrave said, pursing his lips. My hopes fell, and I looked to Daniel for a new tack to take. However, Daniel looked satisfied with the answer. As I watched him, trying to understand him a little better, perhaps know what he really thought of all this, I caught his eye. He smiled slowly and winked, then licked his lips. Before I could react, he was speaking to his father again, and it was as though I was no longer in the room.

  I decided to escape while the getting was good, take a cold shower, and try to figure out where I went wrong in my priorities, that all my hard work had led me to a place I shouldn’t be, with a man I shouldn’t have.

  Chapter Six

  Daniel

  I was grateful Rachel had come down while my father and I were arguing. It was better than being alone with her and having her ask me how she ended up in her bra and panties. After the fact, I wouldn’t have blamed her for thinking I took advantage of the situation, but when she’d seemed so ill, all I could think of was to take care of her and make her comfortable.

  When I watched her leave the office, dreamy smile on her face, her poor hand in a cast that reached halfway up her arm, I was having trouble remembering the ranch before she’d arrived. She’d been here one day, and already had made my life more exciting (and anxiety-filled) than before. Her bravery astounded me, and those moments when she lost her self-confidence and became almost timid baffled and concerned me.

  “Daniel, are you even listening to me?” my father barked. “Damnit, son, just when I think you’re responsible enough to take over, you start losing your mind over a woman,” he chided me. “Maybe this wasn’t the right time for you to take over.” My head swiveled, and I met his angry stare with one of my own.

  “Right, because Mom wasn’t here when you were taking over, right? You were solitary and the ranch was your only concern, and the rest of us just appeared out of nowhere when you were ready to be a family man and snapped your fingers,” I retorted. “I’m not even gracing your remarks about poor Rachel. I’m embarrassed that you aren’t concerned about the wellbeing of someone who was treated so poorly on our property. But, the fact that you say you’ve given me the reigns, but you’re still in here shouting at me for not running things the way you do, tells me that I may be ready to run this ranch, but obviously, you aren’t ready for anyone to take over.” I grabbed my hat and stormed toward the door. “How about you let me know when you’re ready, since my degree and my years of experience and expertise aren’t enough for you to show me any respect.”

  I went to the stable and took Kaiser from his stall. I was so angry at my father that I couldn’t make myself stay one more minute. I quickly saddled Kaiser up, and he happily trotted out the gate toward the field beyond. I gave him his head, and he ran over the familiar ground until we reached the water’s edge. I jumped down and watched him splash and play in the shallows while I paced back and forth over the rocks.

  The fight was an old one, and I knew better than to my father get to me. He was a great rancher and nothing mattered more to him than our family and the legacy he left us. Still, it wasn’t like him to question my relationships at all, let alone accuse me of being irresponsible. I kicked a rock and listened to it bounce across its companions. In the distance, I heard hoof beats drawing near. Not galloping, but someone carefully picking their way across the unfamiliar ground.

  Smiling, I looked up. There, astride Peacemaker, was the object of my desire. Carefully, Peacemaker felt his way through across the bare, dry rocks that made up this part of the shoreline. Rachel perched in the saddle like there was nothing to riding in a cast, but I still felt worry settle in my gut as I watched her sway gently with the horse’s movements.

  “Howdy, Stranger.” I tipped my hat to the petite beauty as she pulled Peacemaker to a stop under the canopy of the overhanging Montezuma Cypress trees. She looked down at me and gave me a wry smile. She accepted my help down from the saddle when I reached up a hand. I was amazed again by how easy it was. She was so diminutive and light, it was amazing to me how much energy she brought to a room. Her sparkle was completely unaffected and a universe from the society women I was used to.

  “I wanted to check on you. I didn’t mean to cause trouble with your father. I am so excited about all things racing, especially now that the people I’ve worked with are moving towards a much more humane and equestrian-friendly racing environment.” She smiled shyly and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I would love to help you with my friend’s stud. I’d even come back weekends over the next schoolyear if you let me bring him while I’m here and get the ball rolling over the summer.” I offered her my hand to help her over some rocks, and she took it.

  “It takes some time to build a winner, doesn’t it?” I asked, adding up the months and years of work ahead.

  “And, that’s why most people simply buy their horses from others when they want to race. But, you don’t actually want to race, not really, do you?” she surmised. I looked at her in surprise.

  “How did you know that? Everything we’ve talked about is…” My voice trailed off at her chuckle.

  “You have a state-of-the-art equestrian birthing suite. That’s not the usual ranch fare,” she pointed out. “You are serious about breeding a special kind of horse, and that suite, matched with the quality mares you already have, will get you all the investors you need if you want to branch out and customers for your foals, if you can get the right stud.” She stopped abruptly, blushing. “Oh my God. I’m babbling. I am so sorry.” She ducked her head and pulled her hand away from me.

  I didn’t say anything, but I didn’t like how I felt when she pulled away from me. She was under my skin, and I could only think of one way to rid myself of the constant distraction of her scent. I frowned at the direction my thoughts were being pulled and wondered if my father didn’t have a point, after all.

  Peacemaker was well-trained, and I was pleasantly surprised at how well he followed us while no one had his reigns. Kaiser, on the other hand, couldn’t be kept out of the water, and eventually I had to
wade in up to my thighs in the ice-cold lake to drag him out so we could head back up the hill.

  I boosted Rachel onto Peacemaker and lifted my dripping ass onto Kaiser. I led the way through my favorite parts of the untouched woodland and puffed up like a rooster at every gasp and murmur of enjoyment that Rachel made as we rode the sun-streaked paths. When the path widened enough, I dropped back to ride side by side, explaining that although the land was fertile, we had promised as a family to leave as much of the forest as we could intact.

  It was strange, finally getting to share the stories and purpose of our family with someone, and I realized I’d never brought another woman to our land, even those who had found their way to my cabin on occasion. Then again, this was the first time I’d been alone with a woman who cared about the land, who didn’t even think before getting dirty, and who was more horsewoman, I suspected, than I was a horseman.

  As if she heard my thoughts, Rachel laughed in delight as we crested the hill and looked down on the herd of mustangs that roamed the wild part of our property. We stopped and watched three colts frolic among their patient mothers, who quietly grazed, unfazed by the kicking cavorting little hooves dancing among them. Off to one side, removed from the group and positioned above them on the far hill, was the stallion. The herd was made up of sixteen mares, three colts, two pregnant, and the stallion, who my father called Mordecai. My father had given this herd a home when a summer wildfire had forced them from their previous pastures, and they’d been here ever since.

  I explained to Rachel that we occasionally introduced new mares and adopted others out to keep the herd at about fifteen, so that they wouldn’t overtax the land that we’d given them. They were as wild that day as they were the day they’d been brought in, tranquilized, on trucks. We’d had them treated for the smoke they’d inhaled, the wounds from falling embers on their backs, and the scorched spots on their bellies and legs received as they tried to stay ahead of the blaze.

  “So, how much land is theirs?” she asked, waving her arm to span the horizon. I pointed to a crest of trees about a mile out.

  “In the wild, the mustangs would encompass a lot more land, sometimes they travel over a hundred miles if they have it. Here, we have segregated about 30 square miles for them. The herd is small enough, and there’s enough shelter and water included in it, that the herd could easily stay here forever,” I told her with no small amount of pride. “My family never wanted to use every inch of the land for profit. We pride ourselves on optimizing every aspect of our operation, to get the most out of the land we use and to protect as much of it as we can for the future.”

  “I read, while I was researching your ranch, that your system alternates fields between grazing your cattle and growing, for that reason,” Rachel admitted. “It’s a good way to prevent overworking the land like single-purpose farming does.” I nodded.

  “And, plowing the whole thing under beats having to truck in manure to fertilize, too.” I laughed. “We also bring in minerals and volcanic mulch all the way from Utah and Idaho. We’re always looking for ways to innovate farming and use the land the best way, instead of, well, we just don’t automatically assume traditional is best, you know?” I stammered, finally noticing the intent look on her face as I spoke. “Oh god, I’m rambling,” I muttered. I shut up and watched the mustangs.

  “I’m pretty sure that what you were doing was teaching your intern, not rambling,” she countered. “Learning your methods is why I’m here, right?” She smiled companionably at me, blissfully unaware of how bad I wanted to take her back to my cabin and get her out of her clothes. The scars I’d seen on her back and abdomen when I undressed her the night before had stirred a deep anger in me at the man who’d caused her such harm. Still, now that we were alone, all I could think of was to show her how beautiful she was, scars or not. I clenched my hands tighter around the reigns as Kaiser noticed my mood change and started to shuffle and prance.

  “Woah, boy,” Rachel chuckled as she calmed Peacemaker, who was now mimicking Kaiser’s stress. “Whatever you’ve got going on in that head of yours, you’re sure getting the boys worked up!” She laughed. “I think you might be hangry. Let’s go get you some lunch, and the boys some oats.”

  “Hangry, huh?” I repeated sarcastically. “Honey, if you knew what I was all worked up about, you’d be blushing more.” Rachel, glanced at me, and with a nervous giggle, kneed Peacemaker to speed up. Kaiser leapt at the chance to race after her, and we caught them by the time they reached the gate. “You ready to whet my appetite, darlin’?” I asked as she clumsily jumped down from the saddle, one-handed. She looked around the yard like a cornered animal.

  “You wouldn’t dare. Anybody could see!” she blurted. I smiled and winked at her. Tipping my hat, I led Kaiser past her into the stable paddock, where I handed the reigns off to Pete. I forced her to walk by me on her way in, and grabbing her good arm, I leaned in to whisper to her.

  “Well, now that I know the only thing stopping us is witnesses, I’ll be sure to get you by yourself more often.” I released her arm and enjoyed her face get all flush as she stared back at me, wide-eyed.

  I tipped my hat and strolled into the big house to for lunch. I was already thinking about how I could make good on my promise. The girl was under my skin, for certain. Next step was to get her under me.

  Chapter Seven

  Rachel

  I looked into the mirror as I got ready on day eight of my time at the ranch. I couldn’t believe it had been a whole week! Daniel had made it apparent that he thought I was just another woman who would be impressed and undressed by him, so I made it a point to steer clear of him until he found himself another target.

  It was exhausting and frustrating to avoid him, though. Not to mention dreams like the one that had woken me up well before sunrise that morning – one with his broad, muscled chest bent over me while my legs wrapped around his narrow waist.

  Ugh. If I kept thinking that way, I’d never have a moment’s peace, and Pete needed me to tend the most recent mare in labor, Milk Pearl. She was named for her milky-white coloring, and even as a four-year-old, she still had the unique, cream-on-white coat that had made her stand out to the Hargraves when they purchased her at auction.

  I tromped into the stable in my rubber boots and led Milk Pearl to the paddock so I could muck out her stall and lay fresh hay for her. While the birthing suite was ready and available, I’d learned that if a mare went into labor and it was going well without intervention, she’d birth in a nice, clean straw bed instead of the sterile birthing suite. It felt good to engage in the menial labor sometimes, and as I shoveled old hay out and laid a new bed down, I went over the rest of my schedule in my head and planned the most efficient route that wouldn’t take me through Daniel’s office.

  As it turned out, I needn’t have worried about avoiding him. Just as I finished, sweaty and smelling of horse with manure on my feet, I turned around and there he stood, shaved, showered, and handsome as the devil. My jaw dropped, and I looked down at my clothing, covered in hay dust and little bits of straw that stuck into my skin when I moved. I glared at him, then ignored him while I washed and put away my shovel and the pitchfork I’d been moving straw with.

  “Of course, you show up now,” I muttered as I stalked past him, trying to ignore his smug grin. I gingerly removed my freshly-rinsed mucking boots on the veranda mat and shook as much of the dust and bits of horse hair and straw off me before I walked in the house.

  “No wonder she likes you better than the rest of us,” he teased as he followed me inside. “You’re the only one who bothers to not track work in with you.” I scoffed and stomped up the stairs.

  “Your mother is a darling, and if she likes me more than you, you have only yourself to blame,” I retorted. I looked down over the smooth, carved banister at him. “Did you need me? I just realized…” My voice trailed off at his chuckle.

  “I do, but you go ahead and shower. I’ll have lunch brought
to us in the office.” He grinned up. “And go ahead and dress up; we’re going off the reservation after we eat.” I wrinkled my nose at him.

  “I don’t have dress clothes. What you see is what you get,” I tossed over my shoulder as I resumed my ascent. “But, they’ll be clean, so you best not be complaining.” I heard a bark of masculine laughter as I beat a hasty retreat. It was difficult showering with a plastic bag over my arm and cast, but I managed to even get my hair clean without having to call for help, though the thought crossed my mind at least once while I stood naked under the hot shower.

  I found jeans with minimal wear and tear and a nice, sheer, peach button down I could wear over a pink tank. On a whim, I pulled my pretty cowboy boots out of the closet and shoved my feet into them. I tucked my jeans in nice and snug, and took the towel I had wrapped around my wet hair off. I looked in the mirror and realized that he probably didn’t want to wait for me to spend real time on my appearance.

  I pulled my wet curls through a ponytail holder and grabbed my trucker hat from the peg behind the door. After quickly applying some mascara, I slipped the hat on and fed the long, curled ponytail through the hole in the back. I glanced in the mirror one last time and called it good enough. At least, part of me thought it was good enough; another part added a pathetic, “I hope,” and a third stomped her independent foot and hollered, “I hope it’s not, so he can move on and leave me alone!”

  The last part was a little liar, and I knew it.

  In the office downstairs, Hannah or her assistant (all the Hargraves seemed to have assistants) had laid out a lovely spread on the desk, complete with southern sweet tea, club sandwiches made with thick slices of homemade bread, and fresh cut fruit. Daniel was pacing the room and glancing at his watch as he looked out the window and didn’t see me walk in from the shadows of the corridor.

 

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