“I don’t think you need that whip,” Jimmy said with a laugh as she rode into the center of the arena and parked out. He removed the riding crop from her left hand.
“I don’t think so either,” Aimee agreed, knowing her boss was pleased with what he’d seen, and so was she.
“What’s the verdict on my horse?” A deep voice cut in.
Aimee’s head jerked up and she gazed between the horse’s ears to see an elegantly dressed stranger in a gray Armani business suit walking toward them. Didn’t he care about ruining those shiny Gucci shoes?
When the man reached them, he shook hands with Jimmy. Aimee sat deeper in the saddle, shifting her weight and stretching her legs. Her chest tightened as a sixth sense alerted her to trouble.
Cam?
Then the man glanced up at her. They made eye contact and his bone-melting smile almost unseated her.
She straightened herself in the saddle, aware of her labored breathing. Her one-time lover was as dangerously sexy as she remembered, with hair the color of steaming café mocha and a face classically chiseled like a male model’s. His eyes were dark, brown, and as before, they seemed to see right into her core. She stirred in the saddle again as that familiar current of attraction sizzled between them.
“You purchased a live ’un, Mr. Brennan,” Jimmy said, catching the horse’s bridle.
“That was my intent, Mr. Burke.” Cam’s tone was all business. “Buy the best horse and put him with the best Saddlebred horse trainer in Kentucky.”
Aimee knew Jimmy wouldn’t be swayed by Cam’s blatant compliment. The old trainer had worked with wealthy horse owners for years, and he was the same with every client—low-keyed, practical, always doing what was best for each horse in his care. He’d been that way with her dad when her horses had been in training with him. Ray Elliott’s volatile temper made him hard to work with, but Jimmy had always managed her father with calm, good grace.
That’s why Jimmy’s next comment startled her.
“I don’t know about that,” the old trainer said, his tone unassuming. “That’s why I asked you here today, Mr. Brennan. I’m not capable of doing the job now crippled up like I am. But my assistant here is a good ’un. Expert rider, she’s ready and quick. If you’re satisfied with her working your horse, I’ll be happy to do what I can for you.”
Cam’s gaze moved from Jimmy up to Aimee. She raised her chin a bit, transmitting her nervousness through the reins and her legs to the big horse. Bliss snorted and moved out of his parked stance. Only Jimmy’s firm grip prevented the horse from prancing forward.
“On your feet!” Using the riding crop, Jimmy gently but firmly touched the back of the horse’s front hooves, commanding Bliss to behave and stretch out again.
“And who is your lovely assistant?”
Cam knew who she was. Aimee caught herself pressing her lips into a thin line and trying to fight the irritation rising within.
Jimmy became the polished gentleman. “Camden Brennan, let me introduce you to my assistant trainer, Aimee Elliott.”
Why did handsome men always know they were handsome? Cam’s opinion of himself hadn’t changed either. It was evident by the self-assured smile on his lips, a smile that said he expected to charm the socks off her again. No way! Not if she could help it.
“Miss Elliott?” He offered up his hand.
“Mr. Brennan?”
She could play along too. But she didn’t like the way he stressed her name, as if asking her marital status. What business was it of his? Maybe she was just touchy about the subject. Her best friend Sarah had gotten married last year and was already a mother of a cute little baby boy.
She had willingly taken herself out of the marriage market, hadn’t she? Too many men with ulterior motives had soured her on the subject of matrimony. Camden Brennan was technically her boss now. What had happened between them was finished long ago and best forgotten. She could remain professional.
Aimee leaned her right arm across the horse’s neck and took Cam’s outstretched hand. She caught her breath as scorching heat from his fingers seemed to spread to hers through the leather of her gloves.
“If you have confidence in Miss Elliott, Mr. Burke, so do I.” He looked straight at Aimee with what could only be described as “bedroom eyes.” Then he had the nerve to wink.
“Thank you, Mr. Brennan.” She let the tone of her voice drip with sarcasm.
“Call me Cam. Most of my friends do.”
He still held her hand—securely—as if not wanting to let it go. His thumb caressed the back of her glove for a split second, long enough to send more warning shocks straight up her arm.
“Cam,” she said, stressing his name. “If you don’t mind, we need to unsaddle your horse and cool him off.”
“Surely.” He released her hand. “You’ll find I’m pretty green at this game. I hope you’ll teach me what I need to know.” He stepped back.
Jimmy nodded to her. Aimee nudged Bliss out of his parked stance and circled the two men, falling in behind them as they walked out of the arena into the stabling area.
She had Mr. Sexy Ex-Boyfriend at an advantage now. High up on the horse’s back, she had a great view of his lean-hipped stride and the cedar shavings that now clung to the cuffs of his expensive trousers. For all his arrogance and put-on charm, he was as out of place in a barn as she would be in a boardroom.
They reached the stall, and Rodney was there to take the bridle so she could dismount. With practiced efficiency, she slipped her boots free of the stirrups and swung her right leg over the horse, turning in the process to face the saddle. Gripping the front and back of the saddle, she balanced her weight on her arms.
“Here, let me help you.”
Before she could drop to the ground, Camden Brennan’s hands grasped her waist. Her body tensed at his touch. Slowly, he lowered her to the ground, his warm breath touching the nape of her neck.
She spun around. “I’m perfectly capable of dismounting myself, thank you.”
“Of course,” he said, but he didn’t give her space. Instead, he held her waist and gazed at her, his eyes burning with a strange light.
Now at a disadvantage because she was on the ground, Aimee’s mouth tightened. She didn’t tower over him as she did most men, yet he was uncomfortably near. She tried to ignore the heat that rushed to her face and blasted through her whole body.
“Perhaps the next time you come to the barn, Mr. Brennan…”
“Cam,” he countered.
“You’ll come dressed for the occasion.” With a meaningful glance at his ruined shoes and dirty trouser legs, she slipped out of his grasp, wheeled and walked away.
Aimee heard him laugh, a deep rolling laugh that sounded genuine. “I promise to take your advice, Miss Elliott.”
She should be angry at his presumption. At the way he had touched her so intimately. At the way he pretended not to know her. Instead, her heart hammered with a strange anticipation.
Oddly, Camden Brennan’s pledge was one she hoped he would keep.
Chapter Three
Girls’ Night Out
The Racetrack Restaurant, Louisville
Aimee shook her head as if that would remove the memory of Camden Brennan. What was wrong with her? She had no business getting weak in the knees about Jimmy’s new client—a guy she’d slept with many years ago and then ditched.
Aimee picked up her half-empty glass of chardonnay and took a small sip. Why did she find the man intriguing? She recalled the way her hand tingled from where he had touched it, and the memory of his warm breath upon the back of her neck tickled her senses. She had been down this road before, but once more, her body was not cooperating.
She had promised herself not to do it again—reacting to a guy like a filly in season. Especially not after Norm.
Norman Sanders had been the last one in a long string of disappointments. Like all the others, except maybe for Cam, he had been an ugly reminder that guys cared more for D
addy’s money than for her. She had finally learned that lesson.
Aimee sat down the wine glass and absently ran her finger up and down the stem. The chatter of her three best friends seated with her at the table added to the hum of conversation in the restaurant. She listened only half-heartedly to Sarah, Kate and Tracy.
Imagine! She’d been about to marry Norm, but the big-time jerk couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and his bragging had gotten back to her. She could thank one of Norm’s fraternity brothers for revealing her fiancé’s secret. Turned out that good old Norm had been betraying intimate details of their relationship, to put it nicely, and also claiming he would be C.E.O. of Daddy’s company within five years.
Fat chance! She had ditched the lying ne’er-do-well so fast that it made his head spin. Throwing the diamond ring back in his surprised face had satisfied her anger very nicely.
Six years earlier, when she told Camden Brennan to take a hike, there had been no engagement ring involved, which at that time had been part of the problem. The man may have made mind-blowing sex, but he had also made it perfectly clear that settling down was the farthest thing from his mind. At least Cam hadn’t been impressed by Daddy’s money. His stepfather had enough of his own.
With her bad track record, she didn’t have time for stray thoughts about men, especially not with the opportunity of a lifetime on the line. Her dream was literally riding on the next few months. She had to develop the expertise to train American Saddlebred show horses and then win a few important shows during the upcoming season. That was how she could establish herself as a trainer, ready to start her own operation.
Camden Brennan, with his disconcerting grin, was an unexpected complication. She didn’t want the untimely distraction. She had too much to prove. To herself. To her family. Besides, she had to quiet that niggling dread that lay like a bad meal in the pit of her stomach.
What if she really was nothing without Daddy’s money?
Aimee’s fingers closed tightly around the wine glass. She lifted it to her lips, tasting the suddenly bitterly tart wine. She frowned at the thought of having to work with Cam even if it was in a professional relationship.
“Why so glum?” Kate asked, drawing Aimee back into the moment.
“Oh!” Aimee replied a little too quickly, glancing around the table at her three friends. “Just thinking.”
“He must be pretty hot.”
Aimee threw Tracy a sharp look. “Why does everything with you come down to a man?”
Tracy shrugged. “I’m twenty-five and single. What else should I be thinking about?”
“Try your career,” Aimee shot back.
“Don’t start bickering again,” Sarah warned, her face flushed with the blissful glow of new motherhood. “We’re here for a nice, relaxing dinner.”
Aimee wondered when she had lost the role of peacemaker in the group—probably after Sarah met and married Lane, her Prince Charming and owner of the Racetrack Restaurant where they now dined. Their girls’ night out had lost much of its punch, taking place in the elegant surroundings of softly lit brass lamps, plush carpets, rose-colored table linens and attentive waiters Soothing piano music had replaced the snazzy jazz and loud noise of their former watering holes.
Times had changed no doubt about that. Granted, the former college suitemates had little time for the bar scene. They were all busy with their own lives—Sarah with a newborn at home, Kate working on her master’s degree, and Tracy putting in long hours at her job.
“What happened to our theory about kissing toads and turning one into Prince Charming?” Tracy wouldn’t let up. “It worked for Sarah.”
Aimee waved a dismissive hand. “Been there, done that. All the toads I’ve kissed have never morphed into a prince.”
“You’ll find your man,” Sarah said, giving them an affectionate look. “All of you.”
“Sure,” Kate replied with a dismissive snort and picked up her pina colada.
Although she still liked having a good time, Aimee knew Kate was definitely out of the marriage market. One rotten divorce had settled that for her.
In a flash of honesty, Aimee realized that for all the grumbling she’d done, she didn’t want to be like Kate. She didn’t want to give up all hope. She was too much of a romantic for that. She believed in happy endings. But she had to tread warily with Cam back in the picture. She couldn’t fall for the guy simply because he sent her body into meltdown mode. She couldn’t let herself fall for Camden Brennan.
“So what’s going on with you, Aimee?” Sarah asked. She took a sip of her club soda with lime—minus the vodka. She was breastfeeding. “I’m so swamped with diapers and colic that I rarely see the real world. Fill me in.”
Aimee grinned. Sarah complained, but she was head over heels in love and wouldn’t change her life or the dirty diapers. “Well, Jimmy got a new horse in yesterday. I rode him this morning. Great potential. And get this—his name is ‘Wedded Bliss.’”
“I like him already,” Sarah said with a nod.
Tracy looked interested. “Where did he come from?”
“Shipped from Missouri. The horse is young. Jimmy thinks he has world grand champion potential.”
“Is the owner out of state?” Sarah asked.
“No, he’s a businessman from Louisville.” Aimee looked up as she spoke, and her stomach did a giant flip-flop.
Fate must have it in for her, that or bad karma or very bad luck. Camden Brennan, following the maitre d', weaved through the crowded tables and headed straight toward the empty one beside theirs. Please don’t let him see me.
Her nerves stretched tightly like a horse anticipating the signal to canter.
And of course he spotted her.
“Miss Elliott, what a surprise to see you here.”
So much for her swift prayer for invisibility.
Aimee felt her face flush. “You can cut the charade, Cam,” she spoke, not hiding her irritation. “You know my first name very well. We have a history, if you remember, and my friends know it too.”
Tracy’s eyebrows lifted and Aimee knew her friend’s matchmaking antenna had zoomed in at her obvious animosity. “Camden Brennan,” Tracy gushed. “I haven’t seen you around for…let me see…has it really been six years?”
Tracy had been in on all the gory details of Aimee’s decision to call it quits with the handsome grad student. She knew darn well how long it had been.
Cam turned to Tracy. “I’ve been busy running my father’s business,” he said with a gracious nod. “Refresh my memory. You are?” He let his question hang in the air.
“Tracy Harris. We met at the University of Kentucky.”
“That’s right.” His smile seemed genuine, but Aimee reserved her judgment. After all, men were all alike in her book. They were only after Daddy’s money.
“I’m Kate Long, Mr. Brennan.” Kate stuck out her hand and he shook it.
“Cam,” he corrected. “Kate, it’s good to see you.”
“Are you dining by yourself, Mr. Brennan?” Sarah asked.
“Yes, I am. And you are?”
“Sarah Williams, friend of Aimee’s from college. My husband owns this restaurant.”
“Ah, the Racetrack is my favorite Louisville restaurant.” The two exchanged smiles.
Warning lights flickered in Aimee’s brain. No, Sarah, don’t do it. But she did.
“Why don’t you join us?” Sarah waved a hand at the fifth empty chair at the round table. “We haven’t ordered yet.”
He didn’t hesitate. “My pleasure,” Cam said, accepting the seat pulled out expertly by the maitre d'. “I can’t refuse the invitation to dine with four charming ladies.”
Give me a break! Aimee frowned at him, at all of them. She knew her friends well enough to know they were up to no good. What Cam was up to was another matter.
The headwaiter switched the place setting from the original table. Cam accepted the menu from him and made his drink order. Then he glanced at Aimee.
She curved her lips up into a smile, one dripping with disdain.
He had the audacity to lift a challenging eyebrow, a predatory light sparkling in his eyes. The flash of his you-know-what-I’m-thinking smile incited an even larger warning signal. Yes, this guy was up to something.
Aimee lifted her glass of chardonnay. “Cam is the new owner of the horse I was telling you about,” she said and then took a sip of wine, her gaze never leaving his.
“He is?” Kate drawled. She looked from one to the other, and Aimee could almost read the speculation in her friend’s eyes.
“I hear you have a wonderful horse,” Sarah joined the conversation.
“Yes, ma’am, so I’m told.” He replied with a dose of Southern charm. Then he turned his gaze back to Aimee. “I’m very new at this game.”
I bet you are. Aimee tilted her head and smiled again. Her mouth was growing tired from forcing so many smiles.
“Aimee has ridden my horse.” Cam’s eyes locked with hers. “Perhaps she can tell us what she thinks.”
“You paid big money for an unproven, five-year-old horse.” Her tone was mild, but censure was implied by her words. “The gelding has potential, but if you want to make money when you sell him, he will have to do well in the show ring this season. Maybe Jimmy can figure out how to make him level out.”
“Why American Saddlebreds, Mr. Brennan?” Sarah asked. “Why not buy a Thoroughbred? That seems more the kind of purchase a man with your money would make, especially here in Kentucky.”
“Yeah,” Tracy piped up. “I’d think a man like you would want the thrill of winning.”
People who owned and showed American Saddlebreds might do it for the love of it, but often the tax write-off was another motivation.
Cam lightly fingered his menu and didn’t answer right away. “That’s a good question,” he admitted leaning back in his chair. “My mother rode before I was born. She took me to horse shows at the state fair when I was a child. I was looking for a hobby that I can become intimately involved with.”
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