by Aliyah Burke
Her eyes fluttered.
Rex moved his fingers bringing them wide once more. “Watch me,” he ordered, not wanting to miss a second of staring into those eyes. “Watch me, Jules.” He took his fingers from her heat and gripped her hip, fingers digging into the flesh there. He wanted to keep her as close as he could, for as long as he could.
Those green-gray eyes held his as he pushed into her. Velvet heat surrounded him and he groaned, a sound mimicked by her as her eyes deepened in color. She wrapped tighter around him and moved with him as he made love to her.
Once wouldn’t be enough for him. Hell, he didn’t know if he’d ever get enough. Pushing all thoughts but her from his mind, he moved within her. The moans leaving her mouth growing in pitch until she stiffened beneath him and came, crying his name to the rafters.
The sound of her calling out his name was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard and the sight of this woman as she came was the sexiest as well and Rex fell over the precipice shortly after her. Putting his lips to hers, he kissed her lightly. Everything about her looked soft and rumpled. He loved it and wasn’t in a rush to move on. He stiffened inside her and began to move once more.
His hands caressed her, exploring every inch of her skin. Teasing her nipples to taut points. She trembled, whimpered, and sighed as she fought for the words to beg him to cease with this torment.
Rex didn’t. He continued with his slow exploration of her body his scruff abrading her hypersensitive skin, doing a bang-up job of keeping her panting and damn near begging.
Closer and closer to the juncture of her thighs, he moved.
“Please,” she cried out, trying to relocate his touch to where she needed it most. One second, she had him so close to where she craved his touch, the next, she bolted up with his name as a gasp on her lips. They made love again and again, and she knew she would never get enough.
The next she knew, she woke up and was alone in bed but Jules could make him out as he stood by the window.
He angled back to her and her heart sped up once more. The curtains were open and the nearly full moon on this rare cloudless night allowed her to see his features. Pensive.
Still, as he stared at her his expression smoothed out and she—again—couldn’t help admiring how handsome he was.
He approached the bed and slid in beside her, drawing her close.
He’d get no argument from her, she wanted him as close as she could get. “Regrets already?” she asked, only partially teasing. “You don’t have to stay and cuddle.” This was their third day together. Or rather night. He’d snuck into her room once the lights had gone out, ever since that first time in the barn, she couldn’t deny him. Or herself.
“I’m finding I like it.” He brushed his lips along her forehead. “Tell me about you and how you got into this. I know you’ve mentioned a few things when we’ve worked together but I want to know more.”
“This what? Working with the physically and mentally challenged with horses, or dressage?”
“All of it.” He settled them deeper into her queen-sized mattress.
“I was born in the Netherlands and grew up in the dressage world. My father rode. My mother was in the military. When she was out, they came here—we came—and he bought the farm. It was harder here with us having darker skin. It’s not a thing over there like it is here, especially since my mother was white. My father ignored all the hate he had directed at him and rode until he passed.” She worked her lower lip, missing him more right now than she had in a long time.
“How did he die?”
“A semi-trailer plowed into them as they were coming home from a date. He died instantly.”
Rex’s hold tightened. “I’m so sorry. What about your mother?”
“In a coma for a while and had to have multiple surgeries. She’s the reason for the therapeutic side. She needed it.”
“And you provided the supply for the demand.”
“Better than paying a stranger to do something that may or may not work. She’d always responded to horses and I wanted her near me.”
“So she hadn’t ever competed?”
“No, her seat wasn’t good enough. She died two years ago. It’s been tough juggling the lingering hospital bills, insurance for the therapeutic bit and just feeding everyone. But that’s life.”
“Why not just take the offer?”
Jules stiffened and pulled back from his heat to stare at him.
He waited for her answer.
“Why are you pushing that?”
“Because you wouldn’t have to worry about all of this then.”
“After which, what would I do?”
“That’s the point, you’d be able to do whatever. Go wherever.”
“I’m doing what I love. And how do you know it would be enough?”
“This is a prime piece of real estate. Lots of land.”
She sat up on her knees. “Have you remembered anymore?” Her self-preservation instinct was screaming as if it was being burned alive.
He didn’t look away. “No. Just feels like the truth to me.”
Plausible. Still didn’t assuage her suspicion. “Well, like I said earlier, they can kiss my ass. I’m not selling. They can’t offer me enough. I’d sell Con before selling to Hamilton or Phoenix. Hell, even Bachmann and Jericho, I won’t sell to. All of those soulless money grubbing bastards can take a one-way trip straight to hell.” She didn’t miss it this time, there was a slight narrowing of his eyes before his expression smoothed out. Her suspicion jacked sky-high.
Is he playing me?
Could one of those places, not Mr. Phoenix, but the other two, have sent him to try and get her on their side?
Her anger and suspicion wavered as he beckoned her closer. She went willingly and she couldn’t seem to help it, as this man mesmerized her every time he was near.
Rex threaded his fingers into her hair. “You’re a beautiful woman, Jules.”
“Not so bad yourself.” She closed her eyes and enjoyed his touch along her scalp. Inhaling deeply, his scent surrounded her. If she could freeze time and keep this moment, she’d be happy to.
“Come here,” he rumbled, rolling them, so she was beneath his heavier body as one hand slid beneath her pajama bottoms, slipping between her legs.
Chapter Five
Jules positioned her body for the jump, holding Conquistador to maintain the correct number of strides between the poles, and she winced at the soreness between her legs.
Con sailed over and she whimpered at the jarring impact. God, this hurts. She didn’t do a lot of jumps but Con had been a jumper prior to coming to her and he loved it. The things she put up with because of her love for him.
“Atta boy,” she praised and they pressed on. “Your mama was a whore for the past few nights. It was so worth it though, in case you were wondering.”
He twitched an ear back toward her and she laughed. “Yeah. I bet you don’t care at all.”
While it had been only a few nights, and an afternoon, it was a workout unlike she’d had in years. So, worth it. “Can’t happen again though. He’s not sticking around and I don’t need to get used to him being with me.”
As she thought of Rex, he stepped into the arena. The man looked different. There was an aura of cold arrogance around him. Sure, it faded but all day the moments she saw him that description came to mind. Recently, he seemed different from before. Who knows though, he doesn’t know who he is, so was would be the difference?
He lifted his hand in greeting but didn’t approach further.
“Sorry boy, only on pass this time.” She refocused and finished up the course. She never allowed him to stop midway, that only bred poor behavior. Patting his neck as they trotted after hitting the last jump, she headed to Rex and find out what he needed. “What’s up?”
“Mr. Phoenix is back once again. Wants to talk to you.”
Jules ground her jaw before nodding. “He’s not taking the hint.” A huge sigh.
>
“Let me handle it.”
“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”
“He isn’t listening to you. He will listen to me.” Determination and arrogance laced his tone.
“No.” She swung down from Con’s sixteen-hand high back. “I’m capable. Men need to learn women aren’t pushovers. I’ve dealt with this my entire life. I’m looked by and talked over because of the fact my father was a black man and the fact I don’t have a dick. Trust me, women don’t want them, we’re around enough of them on a daily basis. Then I’m berated because I demand respect not given to women. I’ll handle it.” She stomped off, Con behind her snorting with each step. It chaffed her having to deal with this level of bullshit so often. It completely wiped away any lingering euphoria from her time with Rex she’d been thinking about.
Jules swung up on Con again and settled in the saddle before riding out into the sunny day. She rode up to Mr. Phoenix and halted her stallion. “No appointment, Mr. Phoenix, and I have no time to spend with you. I told you to make an appointment,” she asked Con to move on.
“Seems to me, you have plenty of time but maybe it’s because my name’s not Hamilton.”
Stopping Conquistador, she canted her head to the side and peered at him. “I’m sorry? What does Hamilton have to do with anything?”
Disbelief crossed his pinched expression. “He’s down here, slumming as if he’s working for you. Knowing how he operates, low and slimy, he’s probably finding dirt on you. Anything to boost his own running in the acquisition of this property.”
Please let him be wrong.
The second she glanced back and saw Rex there, she realized there was no lie. At least not from Mr. Phoenix. From Rex—or whatever his name was—most definitely.
Mr. Phoenix’s chuckle was menacing.
Rex covered the ground in low sure strides. “She already told you to leave, Lawrence. Get off this property.”
So, he knows the man well enough to know his first name. Her belly churned and she nearly hurled her small breakfast all down her leg and Con’s side. Shifting her mount, she stared at the approaching man.
“So, you’re allowed to be here? Thinking a little personal attention would yield you better results?”
He flicked a cold gaze over her then went back to Lawrence Phoenix. “You shouldn’t speak about things you know nothing about.”
Her anger surged over the sides of the walls containing it and she maneuvered Con between him and Phoenix, focusing on Rex. With a finger snap, she pointed to Ward then Mr. Phoenix. She had complete confidence her silent order would be obeyed.
Rex drew up short and met her gaze, the anger in them fading to something else.
“Explain.” Her word cracked like a whip.
“We’ll talk later.” He looked beyond her at what she presumed to be Ward and the man he was escorting off her property.
His condescending tone had her lips curling in distaste. Such arrogance. And dismissiveness. “We’ll talk now. This is my place.”
He gazed up at her. “Planning on coming down from there?”
“No need. This will be quick.” She heard the quiet purr of Mr. Phoenix’s car as he drove away. She didn’t watch him leave. “Who are you?”
He swallowed. “Royal Hamilton.”
The name alone was akin to an ice pick to her heart.
Figures. A man she’d come to respect and —dare she say it—fall in love with as they were side by side working for these past weeks turned out to be one of her biggest pain’s-in-the-ass. She gripped the reins so hard she believed the color might be squeezed out of the leather. “When did you know?”
“We will talk about this—”
“When did you know?”
“A couple of days.”
Tears of shame burned her eyes. “I see. You know now who you are, call them. Be gone by tonight. Ward will help you.” She nudged Con forward.
“Jules,” he called out after her.
She stopped but did not look at him as she replied, “The name is Ms. Tarrington, Mr. Hamilton, and of this moment we have nothing to say to one another. I don’t want you back here. Stop sending me paperwork, I’ll never sell to you.”
Jules rode away, finally allowing the hot tears to splash down her cheeks.
αβ
Rex stood there watching as Jules—a woman he’d developed serious emotions for while he’d been here, perhaps even fallen in love with—rode away without a single glance back in his direction.
I should have told her the second I remembered who I was.
He shrugged. Life was chockfull of shoulda, coulda, woulda’s. Part of him—most if he were he to be honest—expected her to be in awe of who he was. That’s what he was used to in his world, the women fawning over him, looks and wealth made a desirable package to many. To the others, money never failed to be a driving force for their methods. And his wealth bought him much forgiveness.
It’s not going to work with Jules.
A shadow crossed his face and he shifted to see Ward approaching.
Gone was the amiable cowboy and in his place was a highly annoyed one. “Here,” he said shoving a cell phone in Royal’s direction. “Call who you need to get gone.”
Without comment—wasn’t much to say truly—he took the phone and called Dan.
“Hello?” Dan’s tone was sharp and cold.
Rex got it, not a lot of people had his personal number, and this was coming from a number he wouldn’t recognize. “It’s me,” Rex said.
“Holy shit, Rex! Where the hell have you been? Where are you? Are you okay?” The questions were delivered with rapid fire succession. “We’ve been looking everywhere.”
He held up a hand as if they were in the same room. “I’m fine. Long story. Send the plane. I’m out here at Petrichor Farms.”
Dead silence.
“You ended up on that property you wanted to purchase?” No disguising the laughter in his tone.
“Pick me up.” He ended the call and tossed the phone back to Ward.
The man watched him as he put the phone back in his pocket.
“What?” Rex asked, perturbed by how this had played out.
“You are a visitor, Mr. Hamilton. You need an escort at all times. You understand. Insurance and all that.”
He bristled but merely headed to get his items. Half way there, he stopped. He had no need to take any of this with him. He would be in a suit by day’s end.
Ward cocked an eyebrow. “Taking any of your slumming clothing?”
“No need.”
“Good, didn’t want you back in her house. We will wait in the office. You know where it is.”
As he headed for the office, Rex gazed at things from his business side. He’d been doing that a lot since his memory reminded him he wasn’t Rex-last-name-unknown farmhand but Royal Hamilton, cold-ruthless-billionaire.
Still no denying the beauty of this area. Her father had picked well in location selection. He entered the office and nearly smiled at all the photos on the wall. Majority of which were the horses and the children who came to ride them. Sure, there were a few of them with Jules from competitions. The main one was the quad frame of images facing her seat on the desk with her and her father, along with their horses.
Ward sat behind the desk and laced his fingers behind his head. “How long before you screwed her had your memory come back?”
Anger simmered. “None of your business.”
“Sure, it is. She’s my best friend and boss. I’ve seen the way you two looked at each other.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb. I doubt you amassed millions without having sense. You’re in love with her.”
Rex wasn’t ready to face that fact. “Again, none of your business.”
“And the kind guy is no more.” Ward shook his head with a dramatic sigh
He refused to take Ward’s bait.
And yes, the man didn’t let him off the hook. �
��You gonna marry her? Make an honest woman out of her? Or rather…try.”
The instinctive retort of no on his tongue was held by a crystal-clear image of Jules walking up a long aisle toward him in a white wedding dress. He stumbled over his refusal.
Ward laughed, an unpleasant sound. “Don’t worry, she wouldn’t marry you.”
“Why not?” Okay, so that bruised his ego a bit. Correction—more than a bit.
The phone rang and Ward went from meddling annoyance to professional in mere seconds.
Rex didn’t move until a dark SUV pulled up and he saw Dan step out of the back. He got to his feet, Ward followed suit, and went to meet his right-hand man and the waiting vehicle. Rex strode toward him and gestured to the back of the vehicle. Dan got back in and he slid in after him. “Not a single word,” Rex snapped. “Let’s go.”
Dan held up his hands in surrender then buckled his belt as the driver got them on their way back to the airport.
A half hour later, Royal Hamilton settled into his seat on his jet and as they taxied down the runway, he had a mix of feelings. Distasteful at the thought of never seeing—or touching—Jules again. Glad to be going home.
Chapter Six
Rex reclined in his overstuffed leather chair, a tumbler of one-hundred-year-old Irish whisky dangling from his fingers, nearly empty.
Dan slumped on an identical chair across from him, his own drink untouched.
Low jazz played in the background as the rain pounded the windows, nearly blocking the night lights of the city.
“We found your bike and are pressing charges against those responsible. They ran up a few hundred thousand in charges. Don’t worry, the company has already waived them from your card, so it won’t be an issue.”
“It’s fine.” He grunted. That amount of money wouldn’t have bothered him regardless, but he was happy to be back home where he was supposed to be and not giving a damn about anything at the moment.
“We have a press conference scheduled for tomorrow.”
Rex nodded as Dan’s voice trailed into nothingness.
“I’ve married Scott from security and am having a sex change.”