Rowan: A Billionaire Brothers Romance (The Corbett Billionaire Brothers)

by Imani King

  But hell, maybe he doesn’t even want me like that. Maybe I’m just a passing fancy.

  A flush or embarrassment rises over my cheeks, and I’m grateful my skin is too dark to show that shit. I can feel it, hot and aching against the cold of the day, the nip of the wind pouring over both of our bodies as we stand there staring at each other, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for someone to cave, someone to think of something.

  Instead, Rowan just keeps brushing Symphony and winks at me again while he tends to her.

  “We’ve got saddle and tack. We can suit her up. You don’t have to trot her or anything, just walk. That’s all she needs on a day like this. But we get the blood flowing, and I’ll ride Calliope.”

  “You only have mares?”

  “This season, yes. I was breeding a while back, but I find mares suit my personality better. They tend to like me better than the stallions, anyway.” He grins again, and something about it looks lascivious, like he’s thinking about me. But that’s silly—he couldn’t be. I’m not the focus of his every thought. He has been asking a hell of a lot about my life, about the painting, about my sources of inspiration. Almost an uncomfortable amount.

  Rowan turns and starts leading Symphony back to the stable. Calliope whinnies when she sees Rowan again, tapping her hooves against the packed dirt of the stable floor.

  “I swear this isn’t like any other stable I’ve seen, Rowan.” My eyes dart around, and I see that there are pristine watering buckets, bags of oats and a climate-controlled, refrigerated unit that contains loads of carrots and apples.

  “They’re spoiled. And usually we’ve got more horses around at this time of year. It’s, uh, climate controlled too, Miss Cadence.” He tips his hat at me in the manner of an old-fashioned cowboy, and I put my hand to my chest. Against the backdrop of the stable, sky expanding behind him, snow falling gently over the grass, my heart almost skips a beat. “We don’t keep it too hot. I like them to feel like they’re in their natural habitat, but the New Mexico winter gets a little colder than they like it. Like Eliza Doolittle, they’re inside girls.”

  Rowan starts saddling Symphony up, hooking up all the different thingies to the other thingies. I have no idea what the hell he’s doing. He tightens down the saddle and puts in her bit--at least that’s what I think it is--and then holds the reign out to me.

  “You don’t want to ride her, you can walk her out through the snow a little ways.” Rowan opens the door to Calliope’s climate-controlled stall and leads her out through the door. Calliope nuzzles against Rowans shirt like Symphony did, and Rowan hands her two carrots that she inhales with her velvety-looking mouth.

  “I’ll ride her,” I blurt. I don’t even realize what I’m saying, but it comes from somewhere inside of me that makes me want to please him, like he’s the high school quarter back and I want him to take me to prom. My hands start shaking as soon as he turns and nods at me, and my body follows. Whether it’s the cold or the giant animal standing in front of me as I limply hold the reins connected to its neck, or the man with the blue eyes looking at me with a half grin, I can’t know for sure.

  “Oh you will? Let me get this girl set up, and we’ll get you on board.”

  “You talk like I’m going to be sailing a ship.” My voice comes out too chirpy, and I step back in nervousness, accidentally tugging on Symphony’s rein. She steps toward me and I let out a yelp.

  “Well with that type of reaction, it seems like you might be better off on a ship, baby doll.” Rowan chuckles and brushes Calliope down quickly, putting on her saddle and tack while I grip Symphony’s reins so hard I can feel my knuckles freezing beneath the gloves I’m wearing.

  “Maybe… maybe I shouldn’t do this.” I gulp and look up at the creature I’m holding. “Holy fuck. Maybe I shouldn’t—” Before I can say another word, Rowan walks over to me and puts his hands around my waist. I’m still gripping the reins hard, and I’m starting to shake again.

  “I don’t have stool out here right now, so I’ll lift you up and you put your foot in the stirrup.”

  “No, no no—I can’t!”

  “Then you hoist that left leg on over the saddle and hold onto the reins tight.”

  “I got that, Rowan. That’s the only part I got—but—” Rowan lifts me so that my right foot is perfectly positioned over the stirrup so that I have no other choice but to slide it in. I’m still quivering when he pushes me gently against the horse’s side and, acting on instinct, I swing my leg over and secure it into the other stirrup.

  *Goddammit, godammit. What the fresh hell am I doing up on a horse? There’s no way on earth.

  “Times wasting, Symphony.” Rowan slaps the horse fondly on the rump, and it feels like there’s a vibration that rolls through her body. She whinnies and then starts walking, and suddenly I’m aware that there’s a living, breathing being that I’m riding on. I tug on the reins helplessly, already feeling like I’m going to fall. I clutch my feet into the stirrups and lace my fingers into the horse’s fur. Symphony lurches forward into the cold air, and I yelp as I almost fall over to the side.

  “Oh God! Oh God! I’m going to fall! What the hell is she doing?” I hear the clop of hooves behind me, and I look back to see Rowan riding the other horse. He’s grinning from ear to ear, and Symphony just keeps on walking, the great beast that she is. “Rowan!” I shout. “What in the hell are you doing to me?”

  “You’re the one that said she could handle riding a horse! Looks like you got your wish!”

  I nearly topple off the horse as she picks up speed and walks into the cold New Mexico air. The snowflakes start biting against my face like tiny pinpricks, and I grip onto the reins even tighter. “This wasn’t exactly my wish—I was just trying to be a good sport. In fact—”

  Before I can finish my sentence, Symphony has picked up speed, and I find myself wondering why the hell Rowan didn’t try to teach me how to ride or anything like that. Maybe he thinks it’s easy, but my heart is pounding fast, and my palms are sweating something fierce against the worn, soft leather of the reins. I whip back around to see the mountains ahead of us, and soon Rowan is alongside me, astride Calliope. I’m sitting stiff as a plank, but I hear Rowan’s voice coming to me. I zone in on what he’s saying even though my brain still feels dizzy, like I might up and fall off of this damn horse after all.

  “All right, city princess. Just relax.” Rowan steers the horse next to me and takes part of the reins even as I’m still holding them. “You’ll spook Symphony real good if you keep sitting like that. Just relax. If you need to tense something up, tense your abs and lean forward just a little bit.”

  I do as Rowan says, and immediately I feel far better, even though there’s a giant living beast beneath me that I never should have agreed to ride. “Okay, okay. I think I can do this. Are we going to ride them for like five minutes? Or what? Do they need to... pee?”

  Rowan laughs out loud and throws his head back. A plume of white mist comes out with the laughter, and he’s outlined in the dim light of the sunrise and the sparkle of the freshly fallen snow. “They’re not puppies, sweetheart. We’ve got to walk them about a mile before the snow gets too deep for them. They’ll get frustrated once it’s deeper. They’re finicky things. Spoiled rotten.”

  I smile and snort for a second, so low that I don’t think Rowan hears me. He’s got a knack for spoiling the hell out of some animals. I don’t want to crane my body around again, but I’d bet that Eliza Doolittle is walking behind us, eyes locked on Rowan, wearing that plaid red coat that Rowan put on her this morning.

  That man. That man in front of me with the fine, muscular ass. The magic hands and the jawline that goes on for days.

  The horses keep walking forward, to the mountains that sweep the horizon behind Rowan’s ranch, like they both know where they’re going. I gulp and try to remind myself that Rowan is fully aware of where we’re going, and moreover, he’s guiding symphony as he walks. And we’re going slow, abo
ut as slow as a person on a morning stroll. I keep my mouth shut because I know that whatever comes out of it will betray my dread. And it’s too beautiful a morning for that. I keep looking over at Rowan, wondering when I’m going to freak out and fall off the damn horse he’s got me riding. But as we near the mountain trail, my body starts to calm itself. I’m breathing deeper, taking in the fresh mountain air. I gulp hard as we start riding up the rocky trail, but Symphony knows the way as she follows Calliope and Rowan, her hooves clapping against the snow-covered trail as we climb higher.

  Rowan was right, I find myself thinking. This is a beautiful morning. A wave of peace settles over both of us as we ride on in silence.

  “You’re doing pretty good pretending to be a country girl,” Rowan says as we climb up the winding path through the evergreen trees. The snow is falling harder now, but still not hard enough to make the horses that uncomfortable, apparently. Both of them keep marching on, despite the white blanket that’s starting to settle over everything in this New Mexico paradise.

  I sigh, and my breath is fully visible between the falling snowflakes. “If you think I’m pretending to be a country girl, I’m not, Mister.” I shake my head at the idea. God, I couldn’t even imagine a life like this every day. Or could I? The wind kicks up and seems to reach through my jacket and jeans, chilling me to the bone. The snow whips across my face, but here I am, riding a damn horse and wearing a man’s old farm jacket, looking up over the mountains to see the sun filtering through the first snow of the season. “Not that I don’t like it out here,” I add.

  “Don’t worry. I know it. You just like the view. By the view, I meant the view of my backside.”

  A flush creeps over my body, and I open my mouth to shout something back at him, something saucy or funny or equally cheesy—but I don’t know what. A gust of wind hits me right as I open my mouth wide, and I choke, then start coughing, the spasms wracking my chest. Acting on instinct, I let go of the reins and bring my hands to my throat. I have the vanishing thought that I have no clue what I’m doing, and I’m probably too inexperienced to be riding a horse. And just like that, I topple forward, losing my balance and falling to the ground with a hard thud. The fall knocks the breath right out of me, but I roll to the side, suddenly convinced that the horse is going to stomp me to death. But instead, she looks down at me and stomps one hoof like she’s exasperated.

  “Oh hell no, fuck. What the hell...” I mumble. My right foot starts to grow cold, and then numb. “My foot, oh God. What in the—it must be broken!” My words come out in a rush, and I start breathing hard, my voice rasping. A hundred feet or so ahead, Rowan brings Calliope to a halt and swings down off of his horse in one graceful leap.

  “Cadence, Cadence!” Rowan seems to fly over the snow and to my side, his hands searching over my body and carefully touching each bone to see if it’s broken. Deep in my mind, I’m absolutely convinced that my foot is broken. There’s no feeling left in it now, except for the aching pain creeping up my ankle and making its way toward my knee.

  I close my eyes tight against the pain and numbness in my foot as Rowan cradles it in his hand. “Is it broken?” My voice comes out in a harsh whisper. I keep my eyes closed to counteract the lurching feeling in my stomach. Please don’t let it be a broken bone. Please don’t let it be a broken bone. I feel Rowan cradling it in his hands, and the warmth starts to come back.

  Rowan chuckles and then lets out a full on laugh. I open my eyes to see him pulling my shoe out of the stirrup that’s still attached to Symphony. “Here’s your shoe, young lady,” he says with a glimmer in his eye. “I do think you twisted your ankle pretty good, but if I get you back up on Symphony, we can get you back—”

  “No! No more horses!” I almost shout the words back at him. “I can walk.” He raises an eyebrow but helps me up to my feet. The ankle is sore, but I can put weight on it after he helps me back into my boot. The biggest thing that’s hurt is my pride. And I’m not sure that will heal up in the same time my ankle will.

  Rowan takes me by the arm and walks me up to Symphony. “Take the reins in your hands then. You gotta walk her back to the stable. Don’t tell her I said so, but horses naturally need some guidance, and she won’t do too well if you start traipsing back there without her.”

  I roll my eyes. “God, fine. Help me back up on the horse.” He smiles broadly and draws me into a quick kiss, sending warmth that spreads through my veins and pools in the place between my legs that he’s so adept at stimulating. Even as he helps me back onto the horse, my body is craving him again despite the ache in my foot.

  For some reason, as I ride back, I’m less nervous than I was before.

  Even with something I built up like this, the worst has already happened. By the time we get back, the two of us are talking and laughing again, and he’s sweeping me off of my feet and into his beautiful estate.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “What’s happening between us...” She starts and then purses her lips like she does when she’s thinking. There’s still snow on her hair, and I wonder why that damn woman didn’t wear a hat when we went riding. It’s like she enjoys being cold. But she has been wearing the slippers I gave her. And that thought alone makes me smile. “What’s happening between us...” She starts again as she takes her jacket off and I beat the snow off of my boots. But she doesn’t finish. There are things that are caught up in her mind, and for whatever reason, they won’t come out yet. There are tears in the corners of her eyes, and she turns away, maybe hoping I won’t see them.

  I have the fleeting thought that I ought not to be messing with a woman who has to leave. But I’m overpowered by the thought of her skin against mine, her hot body melting against me, the wild and reckless abandon of the way she makes love.

  “It’s amazing,” I say as I put my shoes up on the shelf in the mudroom. Like everything else in this damn house, it’s made of dark reclaimed wood. I wish Cadence could stay here and be the person who appreciates it all, lives in this rich, silent world I built to house a family and keep it safe.

  She turns around and shrugs out of her coat. “What’s amazing?”

  “Us, here. This. What’s happening between us. It’s amazing. That’s what you were going to say, right?” I stand up and go to her, even though she’s awkwardly kicking off her boots.

  “That’s all true--but--“

  “If it’s all true, don’t say a damn thing more.” I brush one hand against her cheek, and she leans into me. Her skin is still cold and flushed from riding, and I bet her fine ass is sore, after riding for the first time and then dramatically falling to the ground like a thirteen year-old girl whose never seen a horse before. I smile at her and kiss those sweet, juicy lips. Just tasting her makes my cock stiffen, the fire lighting deep inside my body. Those lips make me think about spreading her apart and tasting her again, flipping her over and riding her until she’s shaking against me.

  That’s the thing about this fine woman, as fiery and deep as a fine whiskey. She’d probably kick my ass if she knew how much I think about whiskey when I’m kissing her. Maybe she wouldn’t if she knew how much I liked whiskey.

  She doesn’t say anything, but I feel her body starting to melt against mine, her hands finding the muscles of my arms, then roaming down my back and squeezing my ass hard.

  “Seeing you out there today...” I growl the words and bite her lip before I finish my thought. “Your legs across that great big horse, using your body to ride her--“

  “Oh my God, it was a hot mess.” She laughs and then crumbles in embarrassment.

  “Damn right it was. Emphasis on *hot, though. You did damn good for your first time. Well enough that I want to ignore every damn thing you’re saying and have you again.” I pause and bring my fingers to the buttons of her shirt. I hadn’t noticed but she’s wearing one of the shirts I left in her room. “Jesus, sweetheart. You look fine in my clothes. Wish I could see you wearing them every day.”

  “I have to
leave on the 31st--“ I’m barely listening to her, and my fingers are swiftly starting to unbutton the clothing between us, tugging the waist of the shirt out of her jeans, revealing the deep, beautiful brown of her skin.