Made for Marriage

by Helen Lacey

  “I’m nervous,” Fiona admitted as she ran her hands down her ivory riding breeches.

  Callie unclipped Indiana’s travel rug. “You’ll be fine. This is your first competition—just enjoy the day. You and Titan have worked hard for this.”

  Fiona’s carefully secured red hair didn’t budge as she nodded enthusiastically. “Thanks for the pep talk. I’ll go and get our stalls sorted.”

  Callie organized their gear once Fiona disappeared. Both horses were already groomed, braided and ready for tack, and by the time Fiona returned Callie had saddles and bridles adjusted and set. It took thirty minutes to find their allocated stalls, shovel in a layer of fresh sawdust, turn the horses into them and change into their jackets and long riding boots.

  Callie’s first event was third on the agenda and once she was dressed and had her competitors number pinned to her jacket she swung into the saddle and headed for the warm-up area. The show grounds were teaming with horses and riders and more spectators than usual, which she put down to the mild October weather. She warmed Indiana up with a few laps around the ring at a slow trot and then a collected canter. She worked through her transitions and practiced simple and flying changes. When she was done she walked Indy toward the main arena and waited for her name to be called.

  The dressage test was a relatively simple one, but she gave it her full concentration. This was only her third show in as many months and she wanted to perform well. Indiana, as usual, displayed the skill and proficiency in his movements that had seen him revered by followers of the show circuit when she had been competing years before.

  Before it all went wrong.

  Before Craig Baxter.

  Handsome, charming and successful and twelve years her senior, Craig had been a gifted rider. So gifted, in fact, that Callie often overlooked his moodiness and extreme perfectionism. Because underneath the charm and success, it had always only been about the competition. About results. About being the best.

  And nearly four years after his death she still hurt.

  It’s better to have loved and lost…

  Yeah…sure it was. Callie didn’t believe that for one minute.

  Love hurts. And it was off her agenda. Permanently.

  What about sex? Is that off the agenda, too?

  She’d thought so. But…in the last week she had been thinking about sex. Lots of sex. And all of it with Noah Preston. The kind of sex that had somehow invaded her normally G-rated life and made her have X-rated thoughts. Well, maybe not X-rated—she was still a little too homecoming queen for that. But certainly R-rated…

  The announcement of her score startled her out of her erotic thoughts. She bowed her head to acknowledge the judges and left the dressage arena. As she cornered past three other riders waiting for their turn Callie eased Indiana to a halt. Because right there, in front of her, stood the object of all her recent fantasies.

  Chapter Three

  Dressed in jeans, a black chambray shirt and boots Noah looked so damned sexy it literally made her gasp. He held keys in one hand and a pair of sunglasses in the other.

  She stared at him, determined to hold his gaze. Finally, curiosity got the better of her and she clicked Indiana forward. “What do you want?”

  He moved toward her and touched Indy’s neck. “Nice-looking horse.”

  “Thank you,” she said stiffly, hoping he couldn’t see the color rising over her cheeks. Callie collected the reins and swung herself out of the saddle. “Did you want something?” she asked again once both feet were planted on the ground.

  “I did.”

  So tell me what it is and go away so I can stop thinking about how totally gorgeous you are and how much you make me think about wanting all the things I never thought I’d want again.

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “Your apprentice told me where to find you.”

  Joe? Callie wanted to ring his neck. “So you’ve found me. And?”

  “I’d like to talk to you.”

  Callie tilted her chin. “What have I done now?” she asked, clutching the reins tightly so he wouldn’t notice her hands were shaking.

  He half smiled and Callie’s stomach did a silly leap. “I guess I deserve that,” he said.

  She moved Indiana forward. She wouldn’t fall for any lines, no matter how nicely he said them. She wouldn’t be tempted to feel again. She couldn’t. It hurt too much. “Oh, I see—today you come in peace?”

  “I wanted to apologize.”

  “You’re a week too late,” she said stiffly and led the horse away. Callie felt him behind her as she walked—felt his eyes looking her over as he followed her past the rows of small stables until she reached their allocated stall.

  Fiona came out from the adjoining stall. “Hi, Noah,” Fiona greeted with a cheek-splitting grin. Callie didn’t miss how the other woman’s hand fleetingly touched his arm.

  Clearly, no introductions were required. Fiona saw her look and explained that she taught his son at the local primary school and took an art class with his sister, Evie.

  “So you two know each other?” Fiona asked.

  “Yes,” he replied. “We do.”

  “I’d better go,” Fiona said quickly and began leading Titan from his stall. “My event is up next. Wish me luck.”

  Callie watched her friend lead the big chestnut gelding away and then turned her attention to the man in front of her.

  “Okay,” she said. “You can apologize now.”

  He laughed and the rich, warm sound dipped her stomach like a rolling wave. Callie felt like smiling, but she wouldn’t. She wanted to be mad at him—it made her feel safe.

  “I overreacted last week,” he said. “I know Lily took your horse without permission.”

  Her chin came up. “Bravo. I’ll bet saying that was like chewing glass,” she said as she opened the stall and ushered Indiana inside. Then she clicked the bottom door in place. “So,” she said, “was there something else you wanted to discuss?”

  “First, that you reconsider and give Lily riding lessons.”

  Callie didn’t try to disguise her astonishment. “I thought you were going to find her another instructor.”

  “Apparently you’re the best around.”

  “Yes,” she replied, fighting the rapid thump of her heart. He was close now. Too close. “I am.”

  “And I want the best for my daughter.”

  “You should have thought about that before you called me an irresponsible nutcase.”

  His green eyes looked her over. “Is that what I said?”

  Callie unbuttoned her jacket. “Words to that effect,” she said, feeling suddenly hot and sweaty in the fine-gauge wool coat she’d had tailored to fit like a glove. She longed to strip off her hat, but the idea of him seeing the very unattractive hairnet she wore to keep her thick hair secure under the helmet stopped her.

  He smiled. “Then I owe you an apology for that, as well.”

  “Yes, you do. So, anything else?”

  “That you give me another chance,” he said quietly. “I might be a jerk on occasion…but I’m not such a bad guy.”

  She snorted and that made him smile again. God, her hormones were running riot. Did this man know how earth-shatteringly gorgeous he was? She had to pull herself together. He leaned back against the stall and Callie watched, suddenly mesmerized as the cotton shirt stretched across his chest as he moved. One step and I could touch him. One tiny step and I could place my hands over his broad shoulders.

  “So, do we have an arrangement?”

  His voice jerked her thoughts back. “No, we don’t.”

  “Are you going to play hard to get?”

  The double meaning of his words could not b
e denied and Callie blushed wildly. She looked at her feet, thinking that any minute she was going to plant one of her size nines into her mouth and say something she’d regret. And typically, she did exactly that.

  “I’m not playing anything with you,” she said hotly. “As you pointed out so clearly last weekend, I don’t have the skills required to handle your daughter. What I do have is a business to run…a business that means everything to me. I work hard and I won’t do anything that could tarnish my reputation.”

  His gaze narrowed. “And you think teaching Lily would?”

  “I think…” She stopped. It wasn’t about Lily. It was about him. She only hoped he didn’t realize it. “I think…another teacher would be better for her. Someone she would actually listen to.”

  “And if I promised that she would listen to you, Callie?”

  She drew in a breath. It was the first time he’d said her name. It sounded personal. Intimate almost. “You can’t promise something like that.”

  “She’ll do what I ask.”

  Yeah…like putty in his hands. That’s how Callie felt at the moment. “Look,” she said pointedly. “All I want to do is run my school and care for my horses and try to fix up my house, which is crumbling around my ears. I just don’t want any drama.”

  It sounded lame. Callie knew it. He knew it.

  Something passed between them. Awareness? Recognition? A look between two people who hardly knew one another…and yet, strangely, on some primal level, had a deep connection. More than merely man to woman. More…everything. It scared the breath out of her. Thinking about him was one thing. Feeling something for him was another altogether.

  “And there’s nothing I can offer you that might make you change your mind?”

  Callie’s temperature rose and launched off her usual, well-controlled sensible-gauge. It was ridiculous. She couldn’t imagine everything he said to her had some kind of sexual innuendo attached to it.

  “Nothing.”

  “Even though you say you need the cash?”

  It sounded foolish put like that. But she wasn’t going to give in. “Exactly.”

  “That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

  “Well, you know me—all bad judgment and recklessness.” She picked up the pitch fork. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to go and watch Fiona.”

  He half shrugged, looked at the pitch fork as though she might consider running him through with it, then took a small card from his pocket and passed it to her. “If you change your mind—”

  “I won’t.” Callie folded the small business card between her fingers and opened the door to Indiana’s stall. She slipped inside and waited a full five minutes before emerging—and only when she was certain Noah Preston had left.

  Noah usually let the kids stay up a little later on Saturday nights. But by eight-thirty the twins were falling asleep on the sofa and Jamie took himself off to bed just after Hayley and Matthew were tucked beneath the covers.

  Lily, however, decided to loiter in the kitchen, flicking through cupboards as she complained about the lack of potato chips. She made do with an opened box of salted crackers.

  “So,” she said as she sat. “Did you ask her?”

  Noah stopped packing the dishwasher and looked at his daughter. The makeup and piercings and black clothes seemed more out of place than usual in the ordinariness of the timber kitchen. He wished she’d ditch the gothic act, but he’d learned fast that barking out ultimatums only fueled her rebelliousness.

  “Yes.”

  Lily looked hopeful and Noah’s heart sank. How did he tell his kid the truth? “She’s thinking about it,” he said, stretching the facts.

  His daughter’s expression changed quickly. “She’s still mad at me?” Lily dropped the box of crackers and stood. “She’s the best, Dad. And learning from the best is important. It means I might get to be the best at something, too.”

  She looked painfully disappointed and Noah felt every ounce of her frustration. If she’d followed Callie’s rules, it wouldn’t have been a problem.

  “Lily, whoever you get lessons from, you’ll have to follow the rules.”

  Lily’s dramatic brows rose. “I’m not the one who shouted at her.”

  Noah stiffened. “I didn’t shout. We had a conversation.”

  “Yeah, and after that she said she wouldn’t teach me.”

  He had to admit his daughter had a point. If he hadn’t acted so irrationally and lost his cool with Callie, he figured Lily would have been able to stay at the school. Lily had messed up, but so had he.

  “’Night, Dad,” she said unhappily and left the room.

  Noah looked at the clock. He was weary but not tired. He left the dishwasher and headed for the living room. The big sofa welcomed him as he sat and grabbed the remote.

  Another long Saturday night loomed ahead. He flicked channels absently and settled for a movie he’d seen before. It didn’t hold his attention for long. He kept thinking of Callie. She was a real dynamo. All feisty and argumentative, high octane. But underneath, he saw something else…something more. He wasn’t sure how he knew—but he did. Whatever was going on with her, she wore it like a suit of armor. And he was interested in knowing what lay underneath all that fire and spirit. Hell, he was more than interested. Way more. The way she’d glared at him from beneath her hat, the way she’d filled out her riding jodhpurs… His skin burned thinking about it.

  He flicked channels again, but it was no use. Television wouldn’t hold his attention tonight. More so than usual, he felt alone and…lonely. Absurd when he lived in a house filled with children. And when he considered how great his family was. He loved his kids. His parents were exceptional, and his sisters were the best he could ask for.

  But right now he wanted more than that. He needed more than that.

  But what?

  Company? Someone to talk with?

  Sex?

  Perhaps it was more about sex than he was prepared to admit. Up until a week ago he’d been in a kind of sexual hibernation. But Callie had him thinking about it. And got him hard just thinking about it. And not the vague, almost indistinct inclination that usually stirred him. This was different. Way different.

  Maybe I should ask her out?

  That was crazy. That would be like standing in front of a bulldozer.

  She can’t stand you, he reminded himself. Okay, maybe I’ll just ask her to reconsider about Lily again?

  Despite his brain telling him to forget the idea, Noah picked up the telephone and dialed the number he couldn’t recall memorizing but somehow had. She answered on the fourth ring.

  “Callie, it’s Noah Preston.”

  Silence screeched like static. Finally she spoke. “Oh—hello.”

  “Sorry to call so late.”

  A pause. “That’s okay—I’m not in bed yet.”

  His body tightened. He had a startling image in his head and shook himself. Maybe I will ask her out. “I was wondering if you—”

  “I haven’t reconsidered,” she said, cutting him off.

  “What?”

  “About Lily,” she said on a soft breath.

  All he could think about was that same breath against his skin. “I was actually—”

  “Janelle Evans,” she said quickly, cutting him off again.

  Noah paused. “What?” he asked again.

  “She’s an instructor just out of town. She has a good reputation. She breeds quarter horses. I have her number if you’re interested.”

  Oh, I’m interested all right. But not in Janelle Evans.

  She was talking fast and Noah knew she was eager to end the call. Bulldozer, he reminded himself. “Ah—sure.”

  He took the number she rattled off
and had to ask her to repeat the last few digits because she spoke so quickly.

  “Well—goodbye.”

  He hesitated, feeling the sting of her reluctance to engage in conversation. “Yeah, okay—goodbye.”

  She hung up and he dropped the telephone on the sofa. He needed a shower—as cold as he could stand. Then he’d go to bed and sleep off the idea that he wanted to make love to Callie Jones more than he’d wanted to do anything for a long time.

  On Sunday morning Callie woke at seven, after spending a restless night fighting with the bedsheets.

  It was all Noah Preston’s fault. She didn’t ask for his late-night call. She didn’t want to hear his sexy voice just before she went to bed. She didn’t want to spend the night thinking about him.

  She dressed and made short work of a bowl of cereal topped with fruit, then grabbed her hat and headed outside. The sun was up, already warming the early October morning air. She fed Tessa then headed for the stables, where Joe waited outside Indiana’s stall.

  “Are you taking the big fella out this morning?”

  Callie shook her head. “Not today.” Indy’s long head swung over the top of the door and she ran her hands down his face. “’Morning, my darling boy.” She turned back to Joe. “He did well yesterday, two firsts and a third, so he gets a day off. Give him a feed, will you, and then tack up Kirra. The English saddle please.”

  Joe made a face. “What do I tell the kid?”

  Callie frowned. “What kid?”

  “The one who’s here for a lesson.”

  Callie shook her head. “I don’t have anyone booked until eleven.”

  “I know,” Joe said. “I checked the booking sheet. But she’s here.” Joe pointed to the office. “I put her in there,” he said, then more seriously, “and told her not to touch anything.”

  Callie strode the twenty meters to the office and swung the half-opened door back on its hinges. She stood in the threshold and looked at the young girl sitting at her desk.