by Claire Marti
“Call me on your way back. I want to hear how it goes. Be nice.”
“Sure. Talk to you later.” Holt forced his shoulders to relax.
He flashed his ID for the guard at one of Pacific Vista Ranch’s four guarded gates and drove up to the main house. Hell, the place was already fortified like a medieval castle; all they needed was a moat and drawbridge. Extra security seemed like overkill, but Harry was paying the bills, not him.
He gave a low whistle as he cruised along the curving road and admired the rolling hills and dappled sunlight reflecting off the clusters of trees. In the distance, chestnut mares grazed in the sprawling pastures and not a single cloud marred the brilliant blue San Diego sky. The mountains of Colorado would always be home for him despite leaving years ago, but these green hills and lush foliage appealed almost as much.
Did the McNeills appreciate how lucky they were to call this place home? It sure beat the tiny studio where he crashed in the Los Feliz neighborhood of Los Angeles. Los Feliz was cool, but he was rarely home, so it was more of a place to stow his suitcase and guitar between jobs.
When he pulled into a parking spot in front of the courtyard entrance, his tour guide for the afternoon sauntered toward him wearing faded jeans, an equally faded t-shirt, and a cowboy hat.
“Are you ready to see the ranch?” Her voice was clipped.
“That’s why I’m here.” He gritted his teeth. Damn it, he’d try to be polite. No need to start out this visit at odds with her. “Lead the way.”
“Let’s head over to the stables, it’s best to see it on horseback. My dad said you were an experienced rider?” She asked as she strode past him.
His step hitched when he glanced down and saw how her jeans highlighted her perfect heart-shaped ass. Whoa. He shook his head and hurried to fall into step alongside her, careful to keep his gaze on the path. “Grew up riding horses outside of Denver.”
“You had horses? On a ranch, or…?” She looked up at him from underneath the brim of her tan hat. He caught a glimpse of smooth creamy skin and unpainted naturally rosy lips. Her eyes were hidden behind mirrored aviators. She smelled like sunshine and the outdoors. His gut tightened.
“Not exactly. I grew up next to a ranch and helped out in the stables. Everything from mucking out stalls, to grooming and exercising the horses. I ride every chance I can since then.” His neighbor’s horses had been one of his primary joys and reasons to smile growing up.
“Yeah, I couldn’t imagine life without my horses and riding every day.” She smiled, revealing straight white teeth.
Stop noticing her perfect ass and her equally perfect smile, damn it. “How many horses do you have here? I saw five barns?”
“Yes, five barns and close to one hundred horses between Hercules, the mares, foals, and yearlings. We’ve got one barn for the family’s horses and that’s where we’re headed now. Are you up for a challenging mount or an easy ride?” One dark brow lifted.
“I’m always up for a challenge.” No way would he get stuck on a slow horse. “So, the other barns are all your breeding mares?”
“Exactly. We also house Hercules, our stallion, at the far end of our personal stable.”
“Makes sense.” His shoulders relaxed. What do you know? When she wasn’t sneering or snarling at him, they were actually carrying on a civil conversation.
They reached the modern, meticulously maintained building with stalls running along the full length and stopped inside the open doorway. Sam waved to one of the grooms who was cleaning some tack, “John, can you please saddle up Rocco for him?”
Holt frowned. “I can saddle the horse.” Did she think he was incompetent?
“Don’t worry about it. John knows where Rocco is and it’ll be faster. Come with me while I saddle my horse.”
He kept his gaze honed on the stables, resisting the urge to look at her. They stopped in front of one of the stalls on the right side and a gorgeous palomino poked her head out and whinnied.
“Hi sweet Princess. Ready to go out?” She crooned and leaned in to stroke the horse’s face.
“Princess?” His first instinct was right––spoiled little girls and their ponies.
“Her full name is Princess Buttercup. Didn’t you see The Princess Bride? She’s the ultimate heroine.” She whipped off her sunglasses and her enormous chocolate brown eyes widened.
He chuckled, his jaw softening. “Best movie ever and you’re right, Princess Buttercup stole the show.” Robin Wright was still one of the most powerful, beautiful actresses in the business.
He couldn’t fault the way Sam expertly saddled her horse before the groom approached with Rocco, a grey gelding. Together, they led the horses out into the sunshine and mounted. She practically leapt onto her horse, as agile and graceful as a jockey.
“We’ll cover the whole ranch and finish over where we have sectioned off for the movie set.” She turned her horse and trotted off, obviously used to people obeying her commands.
He followed her lead and admired her obvious athletic prowess. Suck it up, Ericsson.
Rocco proved to be the perfect mount, full of energy and spirit. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d ridden simply for pleasure and not just as part of a scene in a movie. Stables weren’t exactly abundant in his neighborhood and it wasn’t like he had much free time.
Sam loosened the reins and cantered toward the gate where he’d entered. Damn, she looked like some kind of goddess. He loved speed, so he followed suit. The wind cooled his cheeks and the knots around the base of his neck dissipated with the fresh summer air and the freedom of flying unencumbered on the back of the powerful animal.
Watching her ride wasn’t too tough of an ordeal either.
So he could ride.
So he was an absolute natural on Rocco.
So he was definitely a genuine horse lover. She would know.
The tight ball of tension in her belly uncoiled. The positive quality could help balance out his personality, because the arrogance set her teeth on edge.
Although he didn’t seem too annoying today. More like mildly bothersome. She could at least try to be civil while she showed him around.
Her shoulders softened, and she reined in by the enormous mahogany wood and wrought iron gate and paused while Holt joined her.
“This is where you came in. This entrance is primarily for the family and for those working with us on the breeding operations. Since you’ll be staying here, you can use it.” She gestured to the large wooden door set into the twelve-foot-high stone gate. “You shouldn’t need to walk through, but I can give you the security code later in case Edgar or another guard isn’t on duty. Okay?”
When he nodded his tawny head, she ticked off the points with her fingers. “Anybody affiliated with the movie besides you or Harry must use the south gate. Each person will be screened by security every time they arrive. If they fail to show proper identification or aren’t on the list, they will not be allowed in. No exceptions. Got it?”
He nodded again. His large bronzed hands, crisscrossed with faded scars, were loose on the reins. “Sure. They’re used to it. Every movie set has varying degrees of privacy and they’ll know this one is tight.”
“We’ll ride along the perimeter so I can show you where the trails are and how the ranch is set up.” Stop focusing on those rugged hands. She trotted along the protective fence covered with green winding vegetation and riotous fuchsia bougainvillea. Fragrance from expansive beds of scarlet and pure white roses floated around them.
They rode along in comfortable silence for a few more minutes and she assumed he was surveying the beauty of the property, just as she was. The pure splendor of the emerald hills and lush foliage had captured her soul when she’d first seen it as a heartbroken fifteen-year-old girl. More than a decade later, she never took it for granted.
They crested a large hill and she stopped and pointed down to the now-empty racetrack. He reined in next to her, his strong denim-clad leg mere inche
s from her own. The heat from his body caused the fine hairs on the back of her neck to prickle again.
Her tummy didn’t flip flop. Definitely didn’t tingle either. Yeah, right.
“Wow, a racetrack? I thought you just ran a breeding operation? Do you train the yearlings too?” His sculpted lips parted and damn, was that a slight dimple in his square chin? The tingling on the back of her neck traveled south.
Don’t stare at his perfect chiseled, devastatingly handsome face. “The track was already here when my dad bought the ranch, so it made sense to keep it. We’ll use it when the horses feel like flying and we’ve been playing with the idea of starting to train some of the foals born here. Pretty cool, right?”
“It’s awesome.” He grinned and another dimple winked in his lean cheek. “Does Rocco like it?” He shifted his gaze toward her, his expression lit up like someone who’d just received free front row seats to the Super Bowl.
Her pulse accelerated and her nipples hardened. “Yes Rocco likes it and no, we aren’t racing on the track today. This is business, remember?” Her body apparently forgot that important tidbit. Please don’t let him notice.
“Okay, boss, whatever you say.” The grin remained on his face. Maybe he wasn’t such a jerk after all.
She laughed. “That’s more like it.”
“So, once we reach the other side of the track, we’ll approach where you guys will be set up. There’s room for some trailers and equipment. No night filming, no bright lights late because it will disturb the mares’ circadian rhythms and it can mess with their fertility.”
Business, this was all about business. Being civil was one thing, but skirting the edge of flirtation was unacceptable. She gripped the reins, seeking her composure. Focus on the ranch.
“Don’t worry, no night scenes planned. They’ll build a few structures for the outdoor set, which they can break down when those are done. And, the background shots of your horses can be filmed with a skeleton team. Harry said he’d make sure to only have the necessary actors and crew for each scene so it shouldn’t ever get too crowded.” His husky voice assured her as he easily matched her pace.
“I’m so glad you understand. You’re making me feel better about all of this.” She nudged Buttercup forward, determined to re-establish some distance between them. A red-tailed hawk soared overhead, iridescent turquoise dragonflies flitted about, and the quiet scene warmed her as it always did. To the west, pastures rolled out as far as the eyes could see, with mares peacefully grazing on the verdant lawns. When they reached one of the lines of split rail fences, her heart warmed.
“I’m looking forward to filming this movie here. It will be great. This place is just incredible. Can you show me the rest of the property?” He smiled, relaxed in the saddle.
“Sure. You’ve already seen the breeding shed, I’ll show you the other stables, the rehabilitation facility, the foaling sheds, and where Amanda’s vet practice is housed.” Pride surged in her chest; Pacific Vista Ranch was the best in the country.
“Must be nice to keep it in the family.”
Her spine went rigid. Surely she had misunderstood his overly bland tone. “Excuse me?”
“I said it must be nice to keep it in the family.” His gaze was scanning the horizon, not even paying attention to her.
Heat suffused her cheeks and she whipped her head to glare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you run the breeding operation and your sister is the equine vet, right?” He shrugged. “Not everybody is so lucky to have a dad who owns a ranch like this. No offense, but some people actually have to apply for jobs.”
“There’s no luck involved. My sister is a frickin’ genius and graduated top of her class from Virginia Tech Veterinary School. And, I’m one of the best breeding managers in the country because I work my ass off.” She wheeled Buttercup around. Total asshat. “Some of us have real jobs and don’t just play make-believe all day.” She snapped over her shoulder and let Buttercup fly.
Arrogant baboon. The breeze helped cool her cheeks, but the anger bubbled up into her throat. He wasn’t the first man to assume she was in her role because her dad handed it to her on a platter. How dare he question Amanda though? Nobody insulted her family. This is what she got for ignoring her initial gut instinct. And she’d actually just been flirting with him? Rude, Hollywood jerk.
She’d done her duty and shown him where the movie would be filmed. Someone else could show him the rest of it. Or he could scurry back to L.A.
“Wait up.” Rocco’s pounding hooves were closing the distance between them. No way in hell would she finish the tour––she’d fulfilled her duty by showing him the gates and movie location. She clucked at Princess Buttercup to speed up.
She reached the stable first and leapt to the ground, her jaw set, and steam puffing out of her ears. Dylan was walking up the hill toward her, looking cool and lovely in one of flowered sundresses. Not even her sweet twin could soothe her fiery temper right now.
“Sam, oh, and hello, Mr. Ericsson.” Dylan smiled up at the idiot.
“Call me Holt, please.” The rude baboon jumped off Rocco and flashed his pearly whites at her sister. Probably veneers. Come to think of it, his messy blond hair was probably highlighted.
“Holt.” Dylan’s smile remained in place. “Did Sam show you everything you needed to see?”
“Well, she was going to show me the other stables and the rehab and vet building, but if you’re available maybe you can show me?” Holt’s tone was honey sweet, completely opposite of his sharp comments a few moments ago. Why was he standing so close to her sister?
“You’ve seen what you need to see. Just go back to La-La Land, where you belong.” She ignored Dylan’s gasp and wide eyes.
He addressed Dylan, all innocent charm. “I drove down to see everything today before we arrive for filming. I’d hate to go back to L.A. and not be able to tell Harry I’d seen the entire ranch.”
“I can do it. I’ve finished work for the day. We can just walk over from here if that’s okay?” Dylan had always been the polite one.
He smiled and took a step closer to her twin. “If you’re sure it isn’t too much trouble?”
“No trouble at all. See you at dinner, Sam.” Dylan’s brow creased momentarily, sensing the tension. They strolled off toward the other barns, like they didn’t have a care in the world.
Why was her sister being so friendly toward Mr. Hollywood? Wasn’t he the enemy?
“Perfect. You two go. I’ll take care of the horses.” She muttered to Buttercup and Rocco.
Because that’s what privileged little rich girls do.
5
The ranch is amazing. You’re lucky to live here.” Holt smiled, the knots of tension gripping the back of his skull relaxing in Dylan’s agreeable company.
Why was Sam so damn sensitive about him simply stating the truth about working for her father? It was a fact, right? Even though she’d been handed her job, she was smart, passionate, and an expert on horses and her ranch. His respect for her had grown throughout the ride. For a while there, he’d actually enjoyed her company. Sure, he’d been blunt, but shouldn’t she be able to handle it?
“We are. It’s truly been our safe haven since we moved here after—” She hesitated, but continued quickly, “After we moved from Los Angeles.”
“Look, Harry will bend over backwards to make sure you won’t even notice we’re here. Only necessary crew will be here when we film.” He softened his tone. Why couldn’t Sam be more like her sister? Even-tempered and polite?
“You’re nice to say so. I hope that’s the case. Anyway, here is the first stable and the other three are basically identical, with thirty stalls each. I believe my dad’s cleared out some stalls for the movie star horses you’re bringing.”
They stepped into the entrance of the enormous terracotta-roofed structure. High wood-beamed ceilings, huge stalls running along each side, and a well-groomed dirt floor appeared to
be impeccably maintained. Soft whinnies and snorts punctuated the mild summer breeze and the familiar scent of fresh cut hay reached his nostrils.
“Wow. These horses have it made and the Hollywood ones will be spoiled.” Everything here was top-of-the-line and expensive. The smells might be the same, but nothing else here remotely resembled his neighbor’s ancient wood barns he’d grown up close to in Colorado.
Through the open entrance on the far end, he spotted a few single-level structures, which weren’t as massive as the stables. “What are those buildings to the west?”
“Come on, I’ll show you. Amanda might be around too and we can say hello.” She seemed to float over the ground, unlike her twin who stomped like an angry toddler. Damn it all to hell, stop comparing them.
“So, those are the vet buildings?”
“Exactly. The clinic, offices, and the rehabilitation facility. It’s state of the art.”
“Of course it is.” Damn, he needed to watch the sarcasm around Dylan. She didn’t deserve his snark. “I mean everything looks like it’s the best.”
Her brows drew together, but either she was too well mannered to acknowledge his rudeness or chose to ignore it. “Why wouldn’t we have the best for our horses? Come on in.” She pulled open a glass-paned door leading into a single-story cream stucco building.
An empty pale green waiting room with a long reception desk and plenty of natural light greeted them. “Amanda, are you in here?” She smiled at him. “We’re really formal around here.”
“Dylan, is that you?” Dr. McNeill hurried in from a room on the far end of the sunny space. She jolted and halted mid-stride when she saw him.
Her smooth golden brow creased. “Oh, hi Holt. I thought you were touring the ranch with Sam?”
“Yeah, we were, but she had to finish something up, so Dylan offered to show me the rest.” No need for the two nice McNeill sisters to hear about his scene with Sam.