by Cara Summers
Except for his brother.
The hedge came up fast. He barely had time to worry if she could make it when they were sailing over it. Then heads down, knees hugging their horses, they raced neck and neck toward the stream. Lucky surged ahead. Seconds later, Hunter reined the horse in at the stream. Then she pulled up beside him.
“You’re very good,” he said.
Laughing, she said, “Did I mention that the equestrian club at my college made it to the state finals in steeple chasing?”
He shot her a grin. “No, but I can believe it. How did you do?”
“Second place. I took a personal blue ribbon.”
He studied her for a moment. Her face was flushed, her eyes laughing. Why hadn’t he noticed before that she made his world a brighter place? That he was… He felt his heart stumble.
“Rory, I—” He caught himself, a sliver of panic moving through him. What words would he have blurted out if he hadn’t stopped? Would he have told her what he was feeling—that he might be falling in love with her?
“What?”
No. Another needle of panic raced up his spine. Love? That couldn’t be true. It was ridiculous. He’d known her for two days. Still, the urge to reach out to her was so strong that he tightened his grip on the reins. Lucky began to dance. He had to think, make a plan. One thing he did know—once words were spoken, they couldn’t be taken back.
“Let’s ride along the stream for a while,” he said.
“Sure.” She eased her mount to his side as he steered Lucky along the water’s edge.
Hunter searched for a topic of conversation, something, anything, that would stop the words that he couldn’t seem to get out of his head.
But it was Rory who asked the first question. “Why did you decide to go into business?”
“It was a family tradition.”
“What kind of business was your family in?”
“Banking and investments. I’d always thought I’d become part of it.” Even when he’d been heavily into rebellion. At nineteen, he’d thought he had a knack for investing. At the end of that first semester of college when he’d come home, he’d intended to sit down and talk to his father about working in the investment section of the bank.
“I’m so sorry. Forget I asked that. I mean…you lost so much when you lost your family.”
When he looked at her, he saw nothing but pure distress on her face. Impatience and guilt streamed through him. “You don’t have to be sorry. It was a long time ago.” He hesitated for a moment, then said, “There’s a story I’d like to tell you. I’d like your take on it.” The words had poured out, surprising him.
“Sure. Go ahead,” she said.
“I told you part of it yesterday. There was a young man—he had parents, a brother, and a family business that he figured he’d go into eventually, although it had always been made clear to him that his older brother was slated to step into his father’s and grandfather’s shoes and run the business. He felt resentful and since he wasn’t destined for the role of crown prince, he decided to assume the role of black sheep.”
“Understandable.”
Hunter wondered why it was so important that he tell her the whole story. Perhaps he needed to lay it all out for himself again. Perhaps he needed an objective opinion. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t seem to prevent himself from continuing. “The last summer before he went away to college, he didn’t stifle any of his rebellious urges. He had an affair with an older woman, he partied, he drove fast. He reported in late to work at the family bank and he left early. No one was happy with him, except for the woman he was having an affair with. She seemed to be highly amused by his behavior.”
When he paused this time, she said nothing, but as the horses continued to walk, she reached out a hand and covered one of his.
“Then he went away to college and began to see things a little differently. He could continue to play the role of black sheep, or he could find a way to carve out a niche for himself in the family business and prove everyone wrong. Then something happened when he went home for the holidays.”
Rory tightened her grip on his hand. “He lost the family that he wanted to make amends to.”
“Yes,” Hunter said. The horses stopped, and they loosened the reins. “He lost them—but not in an accident. On the night he came home, the family was having a meeting. They were all seated at the dining room table.”
As he spoke, Hunter could picture it in his mind as if it had only just happened. “One of the bank’s attorneys was there, too. It seems that his father and brother had piled up some gambling debts at a nearby casino, and they’d ‘borrowed’ quite heavily from the investment accounts at the bank.”
“They’d embezzled investors’ money?” Rory asked.
“In plain terms, yes. Of course, they’d expected to be able to pay it all back before the quarterly audit, but they never quite managed to win that jackpot in the sky at the casino. The news of the embezzlement was going to hit the papers within the week. They’d called in some favors and had managed to delay the story, but they couldn’t bury it forever.”
“And once the story hit the newspapers, there would be a run on the bank’s funds, and thousands of people could be hurt.”
He turned his hand and linked his fingers with hers. “Exactly. But the attorney and the family had a solution. All they needed to pull it off was a scapegoat. The key element of the plan was to make sure that investors didn’t lose their faith in the bank or in the people running it.”
“So the black sheep became the scapegoat?”
The anger in her voice softened something deep inside of him. “Yes. Since he’d never been associated with the running of the bank, he was the perfect choice. All he had to do was confess, sign over a trust fund he’d inherited from his grandmother to cover the losses, and promise that he would never work for the family business.”
“What about the crown prince? Did he have to sign over a trust fund, too?”
Hunter nodded, almost amused by the fury in her voice. “Oh, yes. There was a lot of money to replace. But the attorney had the papers all drawn up. The trust-fund money would eventually be replaced with legitimate bank profits. And there would be an advisory board appointed by the board of directors to see that no one was able to do any more ‘borrowing.’ The solution had been carefully thought out.”
“Except that no one was thinking about the scapegoat.”
“No. Everyone at the table seemed to think that he’d be perfectly willing to go along with it.”
“What about the older woman he was having the affair with? Didn’t she stick by him?” Rory asked.
Hunter shook his head. “She was a reporter and the family gave her an exclusive on the story.”
“She couldn’t have believed it.”
The conviction in her voice had him staring at her. “Why do you say that?”
“She should have known him better than that.”
Hunter wondered for a moment what difference that simple kind of faith might have made in his life ten years ago.
“Did you…did the scapegoat go to jail?”
“No. The family and the bank’s attorney had connections that extended to the prosecutor’s office.”
“What happened to him?” Rory asked.
“The day that the story broke, he made all the required public apologies. Then he left town and never went back.”
She threw her arms around him then and held tight.
Hunter couldn’t have described the emotions swirling around inside of him. First faith and now understanding. He’d lived without them for so long. If someone, any member of his family, had shown him either ten years ago, everything might have been different.
When she finally lifted her head, he saw that her lashes were wet, but her eyes were still angry. This time he felt his heart take a long, slow tumble.
“Why did you tell me this?” she asked.
Using his thumb, he wiped away one of her te
ars. “I’m not sure. I guess I’ve been thinking about going back there.”
Priscilla raised her head and gave it a shake. Taking it as a signal, Lucky took a step forward, and Rory tightened her grip on the reins as her horse followed. “I think they want to get going.”
For a few moments they rode in silence. Then Hunter asked, “What would you do?”
She glanced at him in surprise. “I’m not sure that I can advise you. I can only tell you that family stuff can really haunt you. I was so angry with my father for years. I thought he’d abandoned us. Then out of the blue, my sisters and I got a letter for our birthdays a few weeks ago. From him. He’d left them with his attorney. For the first time, I saw things from his point of view.”
“Did it help?”
She smiled at him. “Some. It didn’t change the fact that he left us. But I learned that he loved us and he regretted leaving. I think if he’d had it to do over again, he would have stayed.”
Hunter wasn’t so sure that if he went back to his hometown, he’d find such a happy ending. “I swore I’d never go back.”
“Maybe that was the best decision back then. But I think that being older and looking back can sometimes shift your perspective. You can change your mind about going back.”
Yes, he could, Hunter thought, and he wondered if he’d been moving toward the decision ever since the first threatening note had been delivered to his hotel room. When he glanced at Rory, their eyes met and held for a moment. “Rory, I—”
Whatever else he might have said was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. After lifting it to his ear, he said, “Yeah?”
“You weren’t supposed to go off of the estate,” Tracker said.
“Good morning to you, too,” Hunter said.
“You’re not going to think it’s so good when you get back here. I just arrived a few minutes ago and I ran into Lea Roberts at the front gate.”
Hunter swore under his breath, then said to Rory, “Lea Roberts is at the front gate.”
“There’s no telling who she might have told or who might have followed her. Where exactly are you?” Tracker asked.
“We’re on the other side of the hill across from the estate. We’ve been following the stream toward the woods.” On the other end of the line, he could hear Tracker talking to someone. Then he came back on the line. “Follow the stream through the woods. McGee’s son and I will bring the horse trailer, but it’s going to take us a half hour or so. We’ll take the long route to avoid being followed.”
“Got it,” Hunter said.
“Do me a favor and get into those woods. I don’t like the idea of you riding around out there in the open.”
“Yeah.” Tucking his phone back into his pocket, Hunter said, “Tracker wants us to get into the woods ASAP. They’ll be picking us up on the other side in half an hour.”
Rory nodded and then urged her horse into a canter. Hunter followed suit, but he was on the alert now, scanning the surrounding fields and the hills. It wasn’t until they entered the woods and slowed the horses that Rory turned and spoke. “I know Lea wants those pictures, but how could she know about this place? I didn’t tell her.”
“Good question.” He’d been thinking about the same question, and the most probable answer didn’t make him happy. Lea had remembered that Hunter Marks had gone to college with Lucas Wainwright. That meant that she suspected his true identity.
They rode in silence until Rory said, “I can see the road ahead.”
Through the trees, Hunter saw an SUV drive past. A glance at his watch told him that they still had another twenty-five minutes before Tracker would pick them up. “We might as well circle back and rest the horses in that clearing back there.”
Once they’d dismounted and tethered the horses, Hunter began to pace. There was only one solution. He was going to have to go back to Oakwood and find a connection between one of his employees and what had happened ten years ago. As good as Tracker McBride was, the man hadn’t been there. He didn’t know the players.
“I know it’s hard to wait,” Rory said. “According to my sister, Tracker McBride’s about the best there is when it comes to security.”
“Yes,” he said, stopping to turn to her. She was leaning against a tree, and in the dappled sunlight, she reminded him of a wood sprite. Feelings moved through him again, and each time they did, they grew stronger.
She extended a hand to him, and he found himself moving toward her before the thought had even entered his mind. Would she always have this kind of pull on him?
“I have an idea of how we could pass the time,” she said as she grasped his hand.
“By blowing bubbles?” He dug into his pocket and pulled out two pieces.
Laughing, she said, “Not exactly. I have a better idea.”
“Me, too.” He shoved the gum back into his pocket.
“Tell me your idea. You know how I hate waiting.”
He brushed her lips with his. “I noticed that last night.” Then he was delighted when heat flooded her cheeks.
“Thank you for last night, by the way,” she said. “For letting me try all those…things. And the stuff you tried, that was good, too.”
He raised her fingers to his lips. “My pleasure.”
“I want you to know I’ll remember last night forever. I’ll remember you forever.”
Hunter felt his heart turn over again as a new realization streamed through him. He wanted more than memories of Rory. Barely understanding his feelings, he couldn’t tell her yet what he was thinking, but he could show her. “Why don’t we create some new memories for both of us?”
“You’re reading my mind.”
He leaned down and nipped her earlobe, then whispered, “Are you wearing the thong?”
“Maybe.” She pressed two hands against his chest and looked up at him. “Since we’re creating another memory, there’s something that I didn’t get to try last night.”
His eyes narrowed. “Does it involve tying me up again?”
“No, unless you’d prefer that.”
“I’d like to keep my hands free.”
She touched the pearls she was wearing around her neck. “It involves this necklace you gave me. I read about it once, and I’d like to try it.”
Hunter wondered if he could have refused her anything. “We’ve only got about twenty-five minutes.”
She smiled at him. “I’ll have to make you come very fast, won’t I?” Then she reached down and touched the swollen length of him.
He sucked in his breath, and Rory felt that same ripple of power that she’d felt last night when she’d been in control. Moving her fingers up and down his length, she said, “I don’t think there’ll be a problem. Just put your back against this tree.”
While they were shifting positions, she said, “Since we’re pressed for time, I won’t ask you to strip, although I enjoyed watching you do that last night.” Talking helped her keep her mind on her plan, she discovered. While she opened his belt and pulled down the zipper, she continued, “Sierra, that’s my academic sister, says that power is a potent aphrodisiac, and…” Once she had him free of his briefs, her breath backed up and she lost her train of thought for a moment. But her body seemed to know what it was doing. Her hand enclosed him and she felt his erection hard yet velvet smooth against the palm of her hand.
“You better get on with whatever you’re going to do, or this will be very fast indeed,” Hunter rasped.
“Yes.” Rory licked her lips and nearly bent down to taste him, but then she remembered. “The pearls.” After releasing him, she fumbled with the clasp, then freed the necklace. Fighting against the trembling in her hands, she finally managed to get the strand of pearls wrapped three times around the base of his shaft.
At his raspy groan, Rory glanced up at him. His eyes were dark, Terminator eyes, her fantasy man’s eyes. But now she knew the real man—and he was kinder, gentler, and much better than anything she could have imagined. Keeping
her eyes fixed on his, she closed both hands over the “bracelet” of pearls and slowly drew them up the length of his aroused penis.
“Rory—” His voice was raw, and she was sure she could feel the heat in his eyes sear her skin.
“You like that,” she murmured as she managed to reposition the pearls.
“Like? I—” He broke off as she drew the pearls up his length again.
“I like it, too,” she said. “I like to hold you like this. I like knowing that I can give you pleasure.” His breath was coming in pants now, and the power she felt brought a fresh wave of pleasure. “You asked me earlier if I was wearing the thong. I am.”
“That’s it.” He gripped her hips and shifted her so that her back was against the tree. Then he all but tore her jeans and boots off.
She heard a low moan when he fingered the waistband of the thong, and then his hands were pressed like a brand against her naked buttocks, and he was lifting her.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered.
And then at last he was inside of her. When he withdrew and thrust in again, she felt the scrape of the bark against her back and the hard length of him filling her completely. She was tender down there from the ride, but that only seemed to add to the pleasure.
“Hold tight. This is going to be a very rough ride.” Then he began to move and each thrust brought a sharper wave of sensations.
“It’s just like it was the first time,” she said.
“It’s nothing like it was the first time.”
He was right. That first time, he’d been a stranger. The Terminator. Her fantasy man. But Hunter was real. And for the moment, he was hers.
“Say my name. Tell me you want me,” he said.
“I want you, Hunter.”
He increased the pace. “Say it again.”
“Hunter,” she said as she felt her climax begin. Even as the waves of it began to roll over her, catching her up in its power, the realization moved through her again—this was nothing like the first time. Because she’d fallen in love with Hunter.