by Dani Wade
Then an unexpected vulnerability swept over her. “Do you think my mom would have liked it? Liked me?”
LaDonna stepped closer, reaching for Presley’s ponytail and pulling it forward so it fell in a golden swath over her shoulder. “Most definitely, honey. But then again, she loved you in jeans and T-shirts, too. She didn’t care much for fashion herself.”
“She didn’t?” Presley struggled to remember more about the mother she’d lost so long ago.
“Oh, no,” LaDonna said with a soft smile full of memories. “She much preferred the comfort of her work pants. She dressed up when she had to, but she really wanted to be at ease most of the day. Formal clothes made her constantly worry about buttons coming loose, pockets poking out or the fabric twisting and not lying right. That stuff seemed to happen to her constantly.”
Presley chuckled. “Like me.”
“Like you.” LaDonna shook her head. “I always wanted you to go with your gut, Presley. Still do. So would your mother.”
Presley eyed the darkly handsome man across the room. Could she? Should she? Would she risk missing the most spectacular opportunity to ever come her way?
“You look beautiful, Presley. Don’t forget that.” Again LaDonna fingered her ponytail. “So like your mother. But most importantly, you finally look like you, comfortable in your own skin.”
The little pep talk, which might have been insignificant to most people, stuck with Presley the rest of the night, prodding her into action. But it wasn’t until she drifted in soft waves of approaching sleep, comfortable in Kane’s arms, that she finally listened.
“I love you,” she whispered, speaking the words that had been weighing on her conscience all day.
But when she finally slipped into slumber, his silence in return haunted her.
Sixteen
Kane’s energy waned late the next afternoon, forcing him to excuse himself a few minutes early from the tour of the hosts’ stables. They had some gorgeous animals, but Kane’s focus was nonexistent at the moment. His uppermost need was to get a few minutes alone in their suite—some time to regain his equilibrium and figure out what the hell he should do now.
He’d been distracted since hearing Presley’s whispered words the night before.
Kane had struggled to keep his body from reacting. He hadn’t wanted her to think he was rejecting her precious gift, so he’d held perfectly still, letting her think he was already asleep.
He wasn’t sure the ruse had worked. Presley had been subdued today, but that could also have been a natural consequence of Marjorie’s over-the-top presence this weekend. The woman seemed to be everywhere they went. And her laugh—Kane had never known a sound that grated on his nerves so badly.
The thought of Presley having to manage this woman—her outrageous spending, constant criticism and, yeah, that laugh—all in an attempt to honor her father’s wishes that Marjorie be supported and part of the Macarthur business made Kane’s respect for the man take a nosedive. Of course, he’d probably known that Marjorie would sink within a year if Presley wasn’t taking care of her.
As if his thoughts had conjured her, Kane heard that high-pitched, nail-scraping sound in the foyer at the end of the hall. He had a strong urge to turn around and find a back way upstairs, but that might take him a while in the unfamiliar expanse of the sprawling mansion. It was a gorgeous place but not the easiest to navigate.
Straight ahead was the quickest route.
The deep rumble of a male voice assured Kane that Marjorie wasn’t alone. Perhaps he could squeeze through with just a quick acknowledgment. Except what he heard as he reached the spot where he could make out the actual words stopped him in his tracks.
“Sun is one of the most well-known and well-respected stallions in the industry, Ms. Macarthur. I’m shocked you don’t have buyers lining up a mile deep.”
“Oh, he’s such a special animal—we don’t want him to go to just anyone, so we’re keeping the sale inquiries discreet, if you know what I mean.”
Kane glanced around the corner to see a balding gentleman he’d met at dinner the night before. Peter, he thought his name was. His vague race predictions and lack of hands-on knowledge left the distinct impression that Peter’s wife was the brains of that operation.
The thought that Marjorie would try to sell Sun again, knowing the problems it had caused for Presley the first time, confounded Kane. The thought that she would sell such a beloved animal to a clueless stable owner was beyond his understanding.
“Well, I know he’s a derby champ and renowned stallion,” Peter said. “Y’all must want a pretty penny for him.”
As she mentioned a figure almost twice what she’d charged Kane, his blood went from simmer to boiling. Somebody was getting bold. The fact that she’d do it while Kane and Presley were under the same roof proved she simply didn’t care about the consequences.
Peter must have realized the price was over-the-top, because he shook his head.
“I do have a couple of other interested parties,” Marjorie added for good measure.
“Still, I can’t commit to that kind of money without consulting my wife. Will tonight be soon enough for an answer?”
Smart man. Before Marjorie could answer, Kane stepped from his hiding place into the foyer.
“That’s a very good idea,” he said, his voice echoing in the dome of the rotunda. “In the meantime, would you leave me with Ms. Macarthur for a moment? We have a pressing matter we need to discuss.”
The man nodded, walking away with a smile and a light whistle, completely unaware of the tension he left behind. Marjorie eyed Kane warily as he approached, and rightly so. His anger had grown to the point he couldn’t hide it from his expression anymore.
“Doing a little business, Marjorie?” he asked, his voice quiet but forceful. He wasn’t yelling, which was a good sign he was keeping his rage under control.
“I don’t believe that’s any of your business.”
“Then you’d be wrong.”
“No,” she countered, her voice squeaking a little as he stepped closer. “No, I’m not wrong. You are not part of Macarthur Haven.”
“Actually, you are wrong. You just tried to sell a horse that doesn’t belong to you—for the second time.”
“You must have misheard the conversation,” she said, tilting her chin up.
“Really?” Kane mimicked Marjorie’s high-pitched tone. “‘I’ll settle for that price, even though he’s worth far more.’” He groaned, shaking his head. “Marjorie, that’s twice what you charged me. I think you’re getting a little greedy.”
“Presley asked me to do it,” Marjorie said, changing her tune. “She couldn’t face doing it herself.”
“Now you must think I’m ignorant.” He stalked close enough to see the tremble of Marjorie’s lower lip, but it didn’t evoke any sympathy from him. “Presley loves that horse. She’d never sell him. That’s the difference between us, Marjorie. I see Presley’s heart, not just dollar signs.”
That had her narrowing her gaze. “How in the world could you know Presley better after two months than someone who has known her most of her life?”
“Maybe because I actually see her.”
“Really?” Marjorie planted her hands on her well-endowed hips. “Well, doesn’t that make you sound like an awesome guy? Even though we both know you’re only dating her because of a contract. It’s all a business deal.”
“A business deal that happened because you stole her horse and sold it to me illegally.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Excuse me?”
Her eyes widened, but Marjorie didn’t back down. “You’ve gotten a lot out of that deal, haven’t you? An awful lot.”
“So you’re just going to—what? Keep forcing her to fix your mistakes
so you don’t go to jail?”
Marjorie gasped. “Presley would never do that to me.”
“No, she wouldn’t,” Kane agreed. “She also wouldn’t put a stop to your illegal activities. So I’ll make sure this never happens again.”
Marjorie rolled her eyes. “And how do you plan to do that, tough guy?”
“I’ll shut you down permanently. Your easy access will be over once I marry her.”
That caught Marjorie’s attention, her eyes widening. Then she stared over his shoulder, her look turning almost calculating. Kane didn’t care what she planned to throw at him next. He had the upper hand now.
Only Marjorie wasn’t afraid of delivering low blows that were only true in her own mind. “That’s almost as bad as forcing her to give the money back and sign a contract saying you could escort her all over town, change how she looked, use our horse as stud—all with the added bonus of sex on demand.”
“Marjorie!”
LaDonna’s voice rang through the foyer, causing Kane to turn around with dread settling in his stomach like a stone. A group of half a dozen people watched from the doorway leading to the foyer.
Right in the middle of them stood a white-faced Presley.
* * *
“What do you want?”
Presley should have been surprised by LaDonna’s words, but she wasn’t. She could even make a guess as to who was at the door to their suite, since she had no doubt her stepmother would not be coming around to apologize. Heck, she probably wouldn’t even go home but would continue to enjoy her weekend and the race tomorrow, oblivious to the looks and whispers cast her way.
No, the person at the door would definitely be Kane. He was too responsible to back down from his obligations.
Whatever he said must have been sufficient, because LaDonna glanced over her shoulder at Presley. The question in her expression was obvious, even though she didn’t speak. Presley replied with a short nod.
LaDonna opened the door. “You have ten minutes,” she warned before slipping outside herself.
Presley didn’t turn around again to watch Kane cross the room. It would remind her too much of the day before, and the stride of those long legs as he came for her. No. She couldn’t face those memories right now.
Instead, she continued packing her suitcase.
“Leaving?” he asked.
Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t the soft, apologetic note in his voice.
“What’s the point in staying?” she countered. “I can’t be much help to you now that everyone knows I’m only with you because of a contract.”
“Everyone?”
“This business is a pretty tight circle, as you well know,” Presley said, tossing her extra pair of jeans into the suitcase with more force than necessary. “Word has already spread through the house by now, I’m sure. It will hit basically everywhere by the end of the race tomorrow.”
Kane stepped close, halting the jerky movements of her hands with an arm across the front of her body. “Presley, I’m so sorry you had to hear that.”
“Not as sorry as I am to be humiliated in front of people who have known me my entire life.”
“That was not my intention. When I heard what she was doing—”
“You know what’s even worse, Kane?” Glancing down, she noticed that the garment she kept worrying between her fingers was actually the silky nightgown she’d brought, knowing Kane would see her in it at some point. The old Presley would never have dreamed of wearing such a thing. Yet she’d thought about wearing it with excitement just two days ago.
She dropped it as if it burned her hands. “The worst part is that for some of them, this will explain exactly why you would choose to date someone as frumpy and uninteresting as me.”
“Presley, that’s not true.”
She tilted her head up to meet his gaze. It hurt, having him this close, seeing the eyes that had stared her down with lust and laughter now dark and guarded.
“It is,” she said softly. “They’ve known me forever as a smart businessperson, but not as a woman, Kane. I won’t be able to pretend any longer that I’m truly a person you would want to be with for—” her breath shook for a moment “—for more than a business arrangement.”
“Did you not hear what I said down there? None of this will be an issue anymore. I want to marry you, Presley.”
She stepped away, unable to tolerate being this close to him while he said those words. Words she’d only dreamed of hearing. Words that she knew didn’t hold the same meaning for him as they did for her. “Oh, I heard. And just a day ago I heard you tell me this was just about a contract.”
“That wasn’t me, sweetheart. That was you.”
“I believe I told you I didn’t know what this was really about, Kane. But that’s changed.”
“For me, too.”
Kane didn’t give any quarter this time. Gone was the man reaching out to her with soft words and kid gloves. Here was the man plowing over her boundaries with passion.
His forceful advance backed her up against the nearby wall. Not because she wanted to retreat, but because she was afraid of what one touch from him would ignite inside her. She was right to be afraid.
As Kane pressed close, her body ignited with heat and need. Presley was perilously close to losing her head in her desire for the things Kane could make her feel. Without her permission, her hands clasped his upper arms tight. She didn’t protest as he buried his mouth against her neck.
Could she possibly live without this? How would she survive without the heady passion Kane had brought into her life? His body was backing her against the wall, mouth pushing aside the collar keeping his lips from her skin, hard need pressing into the cradle of her hips—and Presley wanted nothing more than to lose herself in the drive to ecstasy she’d only found with this man.
For long moments, she gave desire free rein. Her nails dug into his shirt. Her thigh clamped around the leg he slid between hers. When his mouth captured hers, she opened to him without hesitation. No matter how much she questioned Kane, this, she knew, he couldn’t fake.
But even as he tasted and tempted her, she could not hold back the doubts of a lifetime. The fear of never being loved. The fear of never being pretty enough. The fear of never being truly seen. Doubts proven true again and again...until Kane.
If she didn’t walk away now, new doubts would creep in, and she didn’t want to live like that anymore. Didn’t want to wonder if this was a business deal with a side dish of desire. No. She wanted love.
Somehow she found the strength to push him away, to step around him, to walk to the bed. Alone.
She snapped the suitcase closed. Whatever was left, LaDonna could ship to her. Right now, she simply had to get out before this humiliation gave way to the river of pain lurking beneath her careful control.
Pulling the suitcase from the bed, she rolled it toward the door. But she only made it halfway before she turned back. “What hurts even worse is that you think I would settle for a marriage that wasn’t everything I deserve.”
“And exactly what is that?” His soft tone was completely gone now.
“A man who respects me enough to trust I can fix my own problems, who will stand strong with me when I need him to and make decisions with me...not for me.”
This time she didn’t pause until she reached the door. “I’ll have what’s left of your money for the stud services returned to you in full by Monday.”
Seventeen
The last person Presley expected to knock on their door on the following Wednesday evening was a lawyer she recognized from town. James Covey was well liked among the racing community, though he didn’t actually own any horses. He was known to be fair, and Presley knew from seeing his name on the envelopes on Kane’s desk that he was also the
Harringtons’ lawyer.
“Who is it?” Marjorie called from the hallway leading to the foyer. They’d been in the middle of dinner when the bell rang.
“No one,” Presley called back as she opened the door.
“Ms. Macarthur?” the man asked, a more pleasant smile on his face than she would have anticipated.
“Mr. Covey?”
“I have a package for you from Mr. Kane Harrington.”
She was shaking her head before he even finished. “I returned his money to him by cashier’s check on Monday, delivered by courier,” Presley said, anxiety churning in her stomach despite her certainty that she’d done more than was legally required of her. “Mr. Harrington should have no further need to contact me, much less through legal channels.”
Unless he’d decided to insist on using Sun as a stud. She’d taken a significant hit to her business to return Kane’s original sum to him in full. It hadn’t been required according to their contract, but she’d wanted no further ties between them, which meant Sun would not be serving as a stud for the Harringtons’ new stables. She hated to back out of any business deal, but right now, her sanity was more important to her than her bank account. Remembering that it was only a temporary loss that the business would recover from helped.
No matter how much writing that check had stung.
“I cannot say why Mr. Harrington chose this way to contact you, ma’am,” the lawyer said.
Again, Presley wondered about his benign expression. Either he was quite good at masking his true thoughts or the envelope didn’t contain a subpoena or any other legal threat.
He continued, “I was simply instructed to deliver it to you personally.”
Presley barely registered his parting “Good evening” as she studied the oversize envelope in her hands. It was creamy white with the lawyer’s logo in one corner and her name scrawled in Kane’s bold handwriting across the center. Just seeing the strong curves and almost sharp lines brought to mind an image of watching him write. Kane’s script wasn’t messy, like a lot of men’s. Instead it was indicative of his personality, daring and smooth and elegant.