Seduction's Stakes

by Claire Ashgrove

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  The Wild Rose Press

  www.thewildrosepress.com

  Copyright ©2009 by Claire Ashgrove

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Reviews

  Seduction's

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  A word from the author...

  Thank you for purchasing

  Other Champagne titles to enjoy:

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  The smoldering look behind those bright green eyes had nothing to do with any horse and everything to do with passion.

  At length, Riley began to chuckle. “Maddie, Maddie, Maddie.” He shook his head, amused despite his painful discomfort. “I can't sell him for three hundred thousand. And, while I promise you, making love to you would be worth three times that, I'm not going to sell him that way."

  Her look of disappointment only further provoked his humor. He leaned forward, sampling her mouth again. It took less than a heartbeat to bring her back into his arms and elicit her fiery response. Horse or no horse, Maddie McCleery wanted him. As much as he wanted her.

  Sliding his lips closer to that tempting earring once more, he murmured, “You like a good wager, don't you?"

  Her throaty laugh sent another rush of desire racing through his veins.

  "Of course."

  Suckling at her dainty earlobe, he took it between his teeth and tugged gently, desperately trying to ignore the catch in her breathing. “I'll make you a bet then."

  She spread her hand across his abdomen, sliding it upward to flatten it against his chest. “What kind of bet?"

  Reviews

  "Claire Ashgrove has definitely got style and originality to her writing, and there's no doubt in my eyes that this author has got a wonderful future ahead of her."

  ~ Debby Allen (Romance eBooks)

  "A fun, sexy read that stretches the term ‘prize’ to a new length."

  ~Skhye Moncrief, www.skhyemoncrief.com

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Seduction's

  Stakes

  by

  Claire Ashgrove

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Seduction's Stakes

  COPYRIGHT ©

  2009 by Valerie M. Hatfield

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  Cover Art by Nicola Martinez

  The Wild Rose Press

  PO Box 706

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Champagne Rose Edition, 2009

  Print ISBN 1-60154-569-X

  Published in the United States of America

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Dedication

  To those who have dared to dream the impossible and held your breath on risky bets.

  Life is about taking chances—

  may you all achieve your personal Triple Crown.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Acknowledgements

  With much thanks to all of the wonderfully talented companions in craft who have kept me encouraged, graciously offered suggestions and guidance, and devoted long hours to reading. Specifically, I want to thank the members of Midwest Romance Writers, Mid-America Romance Authors, and Heartland Romance Authors. Ladies of WCW, you've been a beacon of support and hope throughout the many stormclouds. Belles, without your keen eye and encouragement I'd still be kicking that first manuscript around the house with no intention of ever using it for more than firestarter instead of learning what to do when things don't work. Nikki, without you, there would be no Seduction's Stakes. Lynn and Kelly, you are my greatest and earliest influences. Thank you for all your patience. All my other friends, as there are too many to name, your support and excitement has been a constant source of motivation.

  To my editor, Mary, thank you very much for believing in Seduction's Stakes, and your expertise. Your enthusiasm is extremely inspiring and makes the nitty-gritty enjoyable.

  To my family, what can I say? Despite the many trials and frustrations, you've been there always. Your love, understanding and patience is endless. Garrett and Pierce, it's been frustrating at times, but you're still my number one boys. You all are amazing, and I love you more than words can express.

  Last, but certainly not least, to the greatest racehorse I know, Hesa Angel, and Lou for making my dream come true by selling him to me. Angel is, has been, and always will be a constant source of inspiration and motivation.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER ONE

  " ... And it's Infidelity on the turn for home with Mister Spoilsport trailing on the inside. Brimstone makes a break for it, passing Mister Spoilsport, but it's Infidelity blazing ahead. Here comes Mister Spoilsport on the inside, nip and tuck for a short lead, Infidelity on a hard chase now. Mister Spoilsport is going away! Two and a half lengths ahead! Mister Spoilsport for the win at two minutes flat! He earns his place next to Northern Dancer today, folks! Infidelity comes in second, with Brimstone for the show."

  "Damn it!” Maddie McCleery exploded as she thumped her clenched fist against the painted grandstand railing. “What is with Jennings’ horses? Infidelity should have won, Sybil! He's been leaving everyone in the dust all spring."

  She turned her glower on her best friend as she gave in to a fit of frustrated fury. Under normal circumstances, she'd have felt blessed to have her horse take second at the Kentucky Derby. But faced with Riley Jennings’ stolen victory, today's place left a stale taste in her mouth. No
matter how she tried, she simply couldn't beat the man. Her horses could win all season long; and the moment his entered the field, she inevitably came in behind. Usually right behind. Nose to nose type of behind. Today though, he rubbed it in like salt on a wound with the two and a half length distance.

  Sybil reached up to reposition her wind-blown, pale lavender, straw hat. “Who knows, Maddie. The man's just lucky. Damn hot though. Think you'd introduce me?"

  Maddie rolled her eyes. Leave it to Sybil to focus on men when the horse she'd just wagered over five thousand dollars on failed to win. But then, to Sybil, money grew on trees. Win or lose, she didn't care. Her agenda today was simply to find the best looking man out of the elite group of trainers and owners to add to her never-ending list of wealthy idiots that fawned over her shocking red hair and size ‘D’ boobs.

  "Don't you need to go down to the infield and collect your horse or something? Look, he's already down there. If we go now, we might bump into him in the tunnel.” Sybil rose to tiptoe, peeking over the crowd to watch Riley waltz with his horse toward the winner's circle.

  "They aren't interested in my boy now. Second means little to the press. I need to go pay my jockey. I'd like to get to the barns before Jennings does.” To accomplish that, she'd need to hurry. She couldn't understand it. Why they always lost to Riley. No matter the horse, no matter the field, no matter the terrain. They always lost. She was sick to death of losing.

  "Take me with you to Harvey Weatherson's Derby Day banquet tonight? I've got to meet Riley, Maddie. I've been sitting back waiting for you to do something; but if you aren't going to, I'm not waiting any longer."

  Fed up with her friend's incessant comments, Maddie clenched her fingers around the railing and sucked in a sharp breath. Letting it out, she counted to ten before turning an annoyed look on her childhood friend. “Oh, for the love of God, knock it off already. Riley Jennings is a pig. Every time I've seen him there's a different girl on his arm. His ego is as big as China, and sure he's nice to look at, but Jesus, Sybil, have a little class. You know I can't stand that man."

  Sybil blinked her surprise. With a look that asked Maddie if she'd lost her mind, she lifted one strawberry eyebrow and countered, “You used to like him a great deal if I remember right. Skinny-dipping with him and all."

  Maddie tensed with the reminder. She'd tried to forget that long-ago memory. “We were kids then, and that was years ago. Before he inherited his father's racing farm and started rubbing my nose in the dirt."

  The crowd broke out in another roar of cheers, and Maddie looked to the winner's circle. Ben Farley sat atop the black colt, sporting a wide smile. The jockey touched his fingers to his green and navy helmet, and offered Riley a nod of respectful acknowledgement. She let her gaze settle on Riley. Six foot tall, if not a little taller, his broad shoulders spoke of strength even hidden beneath a khaki-colored suit jacket. Kept in a stylish cut, his wavy brown hair glinted with the bright springtime sunlight, and in the light breeze, every now and then, it tumbled over one eye. Had he been any other man, she would have shared Sybil's interest.

  Observing Riley's self-satisfied smile, Maddie glowered again. Pompous ass.

  "I need to get to the barns, Sybil. Before the rest of the owners file in and I get stuck there."

  "I'll walk down that way with you. I'm sure Andy has the car waiting near the entrance, and I think I'll head out before traffic turns into a nightmare.” Sybil picked her small clutch off her seat and tucked it under her arm.” If the man bothers you that much, you need to find a way to beat him. Maybe then you'll see how freakin’ hot he really is. Any luck buying the colt of his you want?"

  Shaking her head as she navigated the stone stairs in her uncomfortable heels, Maddie's attention wavered to the breathtaking grey colt Riley wanted to sell. He'd refused her three hundred thousand dollar offer, and his subsequent laughter had humiliated her. He wanted double, at least. Not unheard of in the racing circuit, and nothing she couldn't immediately do, but far higher than her pride could accept. “He had some fancy schmancy excuse, but I suspect he's refusing because I won't go out on a date with him."

  "Which I completely don't get. The man's eyes about fall out of his head every time he looks at you. Maddie, please. If you won't introduce me to him, let me live vicariously through you. Go out with the guy. I bet he could make a woman orgasm for hours."

  She rounded into the walkway leading to the long tunnel that would, a half mile later, open to the barn area, and folded her arms across her chest in defiance. “If you say one more thing about Riley Jennings, I'm going to smack you, Sybil. I don't get involved with racing men. Period. They're nothing but trouble. I've yet to meet a one of them that isn't opposed to hedging life's bets."

  "Have you considered that if you dated him, you might just get that colt?"

  "Sybil,” she exclaimed, exasperated. “I am not bartering my body for a horse!"

  "I didn't say that.” She pulled on the ribbon beneath her chin and tugged her hat off her head, shaking out her wealth of curly red hair. “At no time did I mention sex, bodies, petting, touching—anything along those lines. I said date."

  She'd also said orgasm, but Maddie didn't feel like reminding her. Instead, she frowned. At thirty—one years old, Riley had only improved with age. The lanky, but handsome, eighteen-year-old she'd lost a round of Truth or Dare to transformed into a broad-shouldered, confident man, whose commanding presence not only garnered him respect with racing's elite, but also left a trail of simpering women in his wake. She wasn't about to become one of them.

  Then again, what Sybil proposed had merit. One date. Heat him up a little. Stroke his ego. Perhaps stroke something else—over his clothes of course. Insinuate promises she didn't intend to fulfill, and he'd give in to her proposed offer before he realized she wouldn't follow through. A trick older than time itself.

  She wanted that colt. It was the one horse with the propensity to beat Riley's on the field. That win would be even more satisfying than any other—his own homebred horse stealing away his constant victory.

  A smile crept across her face. No, it wasn't such a bad idea after all. She could do it tonight even. While she wouldn't be privy to Churchill Downs’ winner's celebration, she would be at Harvey Weatherson's banquet. Riley's ego wouldn't let him stay away. He'd want to hear the praise over Mister Spoilsport. Not to mention, the added chaos of an abundance of guests would keep him distracted just enough he wouldn't see through her plan.

  The longer she thought about it, the more she could feel the sweet taste of victory, and the more tempting the idea became.

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  Beneath the wreath of red roses hanging around Mister Spoilsport's neck, Riley Jennings’ fingers smoothed the horse's black hair. Kentucky Derby winner—he couldn't believe it. He'd prepared for this day since he was a little boy who followed his father around the shed row. They'd come close on two occasions, but today the dream came true. The crowning moment to three generations of Jennings racing. How he wished his father could have seen Mister Spoilsport run.

  He pressed a kiss against his horse's neck. “This one's for you, Pop."

  As the last of the reporter's disappeared, he handed the big black's reins to his groom and clapped the young man on the shoulder. “We did it, Scott. Take this boy on over to the veterinary shed. When you're done, take him back to the barns and hose his legs down. Go ahead and wrap them tonight. I'll meet you there."

  Unlike any racing owner he could recall—and his memory held countless names—he was the only man who both owned, and trained, his horses. He suspected he was the only one qualified, as the rest of the owners had more experience with money than any actual horse management. As such, his victory was doubly rewarding.

  "Sure thing, boss."

  The man was more boy than adult, and when he grinned, Scott's freckled cheeks only emphasized his youth. But he was good with horses. Damn good, Riley thought, as the gangly twenty-year-old marched Mister Spoilspor
t away to a soft whistling melody.

  The horse pricked his ears and bumped Scott's elbow with his nose.

  The groom responded with an affectionate pat and a peppermint disk.

  He reminded Riley of himself.

  Clutching his trophy beneath one arm, he turned toward the twin spires that marked the Jockey Club. Staring at the legendary edifice, he committed the vision to memory. He didn't intend to forget this once-in-a-lifetime view.

  With a shake of his pants leg, he knocked off the dust and headed for the underground tunnel that would lead him to the stabling area. The throngs of people already flooded out of the grandstand and infield, moving in waves that resembled a brightly—colored, stormy sea. In their wake, debris cluttered the ground—plastic cups, forgotten hats, an occasional shoe—all souvenirs for the lucky grounds people that would spend the next week cleaning up.

  The long walk felt much shorter against the thrill of winning. What he remembered as a bittersweet journey in years previous, now felt like a short jaunt around the block. Down the outside trail, he waved to the reporters and spectators alike that yelled their congratulations. A few men and cameras waited at Mister Spoilsport's stall, conversing with Ben, no doubt, about his first Derby win. Never one who really enjoyed the spotlight, he headed for the small shed where owners and trainers gathered to both celebrate and commiserate.

  Pushing open the door to the small, but busy, building, he stepped inside the noise. Across the room, talking with the renown jockey Arthur Cormak, a swathe of blond hair drew his immediate attention.

  Maddie McCleery.

  The sexiest racehorse owner he'd ever met. Damned if just hearing her voice didn't short—circuit his libido.

  Stepping around a burly man with biceps as wide as Riley's thigh—no doubt one of Sheikh Ramana's bodyguards—he angled his head to get a better look at her.

  Today, she'd freed her long golden hair from its usual loose ponytail, and beneath her wide straw bonnet, it hung like fine silk down her back. The ends of it brushed against the top of her delicious little ass. For a moment, he pictured her naked. God, what heaven she would be. Tanned skin that probably didn't have a bathing suit line, flush up against that beautiful hair. Like a bright flag marking the way to treasure. Inviting him to explore.