Seduction's Stakes

by Claire Ashgrove

  At that moment, she dropped her pen and bent to pick it up. Her ankle-length, gauze-like sundress molded itself to the very same delectable bottom he was imagining. No panties. No telltale mark of any kind of underwear. Soft, curvy, pert. Riley felt his cock stiffen in response. She was all glorious and free beneath that flimsy dress. Sheer torture.

  "Nice little treat, ain't she?” Harvey Weatherson set one age-spotted hand on Riley's shoulder and offered him a cigar with the other. “Ain't a man in here who wouldn't give his nuts if they thought they had a chance at tasting that slice of pie.” His weathered features wrinkled into an amused grin, and his watery-blue eyes sparkled as he added in a lower voice, “Including me. Don't be tellin’ Pearl that, though. She'd cut mine off for just thinkin’ about it."

  Riley laughed and shook his head. “Don't worry, Harvey. I won't tell Pearl a thing."

  Accepting the cigar, he put the end of it in his teeth and gnawed on it. He didn't smoke, but every now and then, he enjoyed the unlit flavor. His eyes strayed back to Maddie.

  "Best put it out of your mind, son. She's made it known she won't have a thing to do with anyone involved in racing."

  Riley didn't need Harvey to tell him that. He already knew. He was still trying to learn his lesson, however. He'd asked her out at least a dozen times, and each time she refused. But the little flash of interest behind her dark green eyes said something entirely different. It reminded him of the seventeen-year-old twig who once had a crush on him. Tall and thin, back then, she hadn't even been able to fill out her bikini. Now, however, he mused as she turned sideways, and he caught a glimpse of her ample breasts, she was all grown up. And those damn green eyes of hers kept him coming back time and again, to try. One day, her words would match the message they conveyed.

  "Nice win, son. You know that time ties you with Northern Dancer's 1964 run, don't you? Puts your stud colt right up there with the Hall of Famers.” Harvey's blue eyes twinkled again.

  Riley nodded, but he hesitated with his response. He didn't intend to jinx the future by assuming too much ahead of time. “Let's just hope he's on his game at the Preakness."

  "Aw hell, Pimlico is a shorter race. Mister Spoilsport shouldn't have any problem there. Got your eye on the Triple Crown, do ya, son?"

  "Who doesn't?"

  The old man burst into raspy laughter and smacked his bony palm against Riley's back.

  At the sound of Harvey's wheezing cackle, Maddie turned around. Her eyes fell on Riley, their shimmering light speaking volumes as they worked their slow way up from his loafer-clad feet, along his Armani suit pants, and at last, to his face. His pulse jumped in response to her blatant appreciation, blood flooded to his groin, and his stomach clenched into a knot.

  He summoned a lazy smile and dipped his head in an acknowledging nod.

  She turned away, but not before he noticed the blush that crept into her cheeks.

  Riley made his mind up, right then and there. Maddie McCleery wouldn't tell him no again. One way or the other, he'd taste that sultry mouth of hers, feel it skate across his body. If he had to use his two-year-old colt as a bargaining chip, he would.

  She finished her business with Cormak and started for the door.

  As she passed him, he reached out, grabbed her elbow, and pulled her to a halt. “Nice run with Infidelity today, Maddie.” He winced inwardly. What a stupid thing to say after the look she just gave him. Yet, there it was, all business, nothing that opened the door to invitation of a more personal nature. It was all he could think to say.

  He wasn't even certain what prompted him to stop her—other than the sudden need to touch. His impulse was rewarded, though. Beneath his fingers, her skin burned into his. When her mouth fell open in startled surprise, he couldn't tear his eyes off it. Soft, full, moist. Would she taste like today's mint juleps? Or would she be sweet, sugary?

  He needed to know.

  Her shock vanished, replaced by a polite smile. “Thank you, Riley. Congratulations to you too."

  She gave a little tug on her arm, but Riley held fast. Her skin was far too soft to let her go just yet. He brushed his thumb over the inside of her upper arm. What he hadn't intended to do—and didn't realize he had until it was too late—was draw her closer to him by refusing to turn her loose. Almost nose-to-nose with her now, just a few inches away from her face, the soft fall of her breath brushed across his cheek. Mint. Definitely mint. He checked a groan as he felt the tightness pull at his pants again.

  "You're coming over to my place tonight, aren't you? Pearl loves to see you, Maddie.” Harvey dropped the casual air he assumed with men and reverted to a polite, respectful tone, much more representative of his generation.

  At Maddie's light laugh, Riley's heart stumbled. Husky, yet whimsical. He'd never heard that quality in her voice before, and it did all kinds of new things to his system. Things like flip his gut upside down and strain his cock further. Almost uncomfortably hard, he fought the urge to shift his weight to make room in his pants. Thank God, they were loose, or he'd embarrass himself by not being able to hide his erection.

  "I'll be there, Harvey. Tell Pearl I won't forget her."

  She glanced down at Riley's hand before lifting her brows in silent question. He jerked his hand back, mindful of the intimacy of their closeness, and shoved it into his deep pocket. But when she tipped her head ever so slightly to the side and lowered her lashes a fraction, looking at him with those expressive green eyes, his mouth went dry.

  "You'll be there, won't you, Riley?"

  He recovered enough to summon a quick smile. Not trusting his voice, he said only, “Of course."

  "Good, good,” Harvey exclaimed. “Don't either of you be forgettin’ Pearl's made it a formal affair. Neither one of you attended last year, and Pearl got tired of seein’ jeans and cotton shirts. Said she saw enough of them out in the barns."

  Maddie flashed him a bright smile and quipped, “I picked out a special dress just for the occasion."

  Moving closer to the exit, she paused mid—step and looked over her shoulder. Her eyes locked on Riley's once again, and there was no doubt about it—they held candid invitation. “Do save me a chair, Riley."

  The corner of his mouth pulled up in a grin as he nodded. He'd save her a chair. In Harvey's secluded garden, right near the fountain. Where no one could witness the way he intended to kiss her.

  With a wag of her slender fingers, she stepped outside, leaving him to gulp in the lingering faintness of her floral perfume and stare at the mesmerizing sway of her hips.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER TWO

  When Maddie stepped through the wide foyer doors and entered Harvey Weatherson's late nineteenth century grand ballroom on the arm of a hired butler, there wasn't a head that didn't turn her way. Even the women stared. It just took them a moment longer to investigate what had their men's instant attention.

  She came alone, as she'd done for as long as Riley could remember. And every time, the reaction was the same. Wives pursed their lips. Husbands awkwardly cleared their throats and turned their stare to their plates. Single men ogled her—whether they had a date or not. And at least one whispered, “bitch,” hissed by some insecure female, floated over the fleeting seconds of silence. Then, as if Maddie had snapped her fingers and ordered them to do so, everyone scrambled to return to whatever it was they were doing before she arrived—eating, picking up conversation, toasting, laughing over a now-spoiled joke. The noise of celebration returned as they all tried to hide their reaction.

  Riley suspected he wasn't the only one who kept his gaze fastened on her, appraising the copper-colored sequined gown, and noting the way it cut in beneath her arms. It revealed just enough of her skin along the side of her breast to tease, but tastefully gathered into a beaded strap before spoiling what would be a delightful surprise. It hugged her narrow waist and clung to her dangerously long legs like a glove. But the high kick pleat pulled his attention to her bare thigh bene
ath.

  Just one look, and every part of him stood at attention. From his errant friend in his trousers to the hairs on his arm. He choked down his forgotten sip of wine, amused when his neighbor to the right made the same little coughing sound. No, he was certain, he wasn't the only man unable to look away.

  He was, however, the only man confident enough—or perhaps stupid enough—to set his napkin aside, push away from the linen-covered table, and move toward her in greeting.

  Her eyes settled on him as he approached, and her mouth curved into a bright smile that almost stopped him in his tracks. Despite her earlier friendliness, he hadn't anticipated that. Couldn't recall when she'd ever looked legitimately glad to see him. He had expected her to nod politely, accept his elbow because etiquette demanded she do so, and then casually converse with him as he led her to the table.

  "Evening, Riley.” She waited a moment, taking him in with one quick roaming glance, before she settled her fingers into the crook of his offered arm. “Did you save me a seat?"

  He grinned. “I did."

  "Good. I've been looking forward to tonight all afternoon."

  He chanced a sideways glance at her, uncertain what to make of that comment. When she caught him looking, she gave him a little wink that sent his heart slamming into his ribs. Lord, the woman knew how to draw a man in.

  "I'm sorry I'm late. My truck died on me on the way here. I had to call a cab."

  "Truck?” He'd never paid much attention to what she drove outside of the trailer combination used on race day. For some reason he'd expected her to drive a flashy little sports car. The vision of her perched behind a pickup only sparked that simmer of desire further. Strong and assertive—that's what trucks were. Just like her.

  The fact her truck broke down took a bit longer to sink in. “Did you get it towed?"

  "Nah, it's sitting on the side of the highway still. I'll deal with it tomorrow."

  He sensed opportunity. Never one to miss it, as he pulled out her chair, he asked, “Want a ride home later?"

  She tucked her dress around her and scooted into the velvet-cushioned chair. When she turned her head up to look at him, her long blond mane fell over one shoulder and danced against her lap. The urge to run his fingers through it, despite their present company, hit him with such force he clenched his hand to resist.

  Looking at him as if she weighed her answer, he prepared to hear her refusal. But when her chin dipped into a gracious nod, and she smiled once more, he almost tripped over his tongue. What had happened from two weeks ago at Lexington when she refused his advances, to today? And where had his ability to function gone? He hadn't felt this awkward ... ever. Shaking off the oddities, he took his seat beside her.

  "I suppose then, I'll have to keep you close at hand, so I know when you're ready to go."

  Over the rim of her wine glass, her bright green eyes twinkled. “I suppose you shall."

  It finally occurred to him, she was flirting with him. Riley lifted his own glass and drank deeply. And then he decided to see how serious she was.

  * * * *

  When Riley's hand slid over her knee, Maddie almost choked on her prime rib. But willing herself to appear nonchalant, she swallowed down the bite and cut off another piece, not acknowledging his advance.

  Mistake.

  The warmth of his touch spread up her thigh, as he inched his way higher, until one finger slipped beneath the high kick pleat and brushed against her skin. Oh, God. What was he doing?

  She stole a glance from the corner of her eye, only to find him casually engaged in conversation with the gentleman next to him. She didn't recognize the middle-aged man, but whatever they were discussing, Riley seemed swept up. So much so that it almost excused the way his hand slipped further beneath the pleat to caress the sensitive inner skin of her crossed leg.

  This wasn't supposed to happen. Her subtle affection, the way she let him read in her eyes how attractive she found him, was only intended to give her the upper hand. Not the other way around. He wasn't supposed to be in control of this tonight.

  Nor were his fingers supposed to feel so good. What was it Sybil had said about orgasms?

  No, she wasn't going to consider that. Racing owners, trainers—for that matter anyone who frequented the track—weren't dependable. They took too many risks, approached everything far too casually. Everything except racing. Tonight was all about getting what she wanted from him. She'd play along with his advances, but she refused to let him affect her. She would resist.

  Soon, they'd finish dinner, and Harvey would make a brief toast. He'd congratulate Riley, Pearl would invite them to mingle, and the guests would spread out through the lower rooms, and the outside gardens of the Weatherson's enormous estate. Men would gather in the old-fashioned parlor and on the veranda for cigars and bourbon. Their ladies would stay nearby, perched on a knee, pretending interest. The few women genuinely interested in racing talk, like herself, would congregate with them. The others, those who came merely for the social aspect, would lounge in Pearl's plush couches, sipping Pearl's expensive wine, and talk politics or something Maddie found equally boring.

  She'd finish her business after she loosened up with some wine. Then she would leave—via taxi, like she'd planned all along.

  Riley's hand crept higher, tugging her dress up a little. She sucked in a sharp breath. If she stopped him, would he realize she wasn't interested? If she let him continue on his wandering path, would he think she was easy? Shit, where was Sybil when she needed an example to follow? Sybil knew how to handle these situations.

  She took another drink.

  "Maddie! It's so good to see you tonight. I missed you last year, dear.” Pearl's voice came from behind her opposite shoulder, and Maddie twisted her head around, thankful for the distraction.

  "Hi Pearl, it's good to see you as well. I couldn't make it last year with Momma's passing and all."

  "I know, dear. We were so sorry to hear about your mother. I know the last few years had been rough on her, what with the her heart and all. I'm sure she's in a better place now. How are you doing?"

  "I'm doing well. It's a bit odd to have Momma not around on Derby Day, but I think she'd be proud of Infidelity today."

  "Infidelity looked beautiful on the field. Are you taking him to the Preakness?"

  At that moment, Riley's hand made its final ascent, and he slid one finger, very slowly, over the satin covering of her panties. Maddie's breath lodged in her throat as a shock of pure pleasure coursed through her, followed by an all—consuming flash of heat. The fleeting touch both so delighted and stunned her, she didn't even realize her leg shifted slightly away, until his fingertip dipped beneath the elastic band at the juncture of her legs and trailed lightly over her intimate curls.

  "Maddie? Are you going to the Preakness with him?” Pearl repeated, peering at her with concern.

  The question snapped Maddie back to reality and fixing a smile on her face, she slid her hand beneath the table as she nodded. “Yes, I am.” Her fingers fastened around Riley's. With clear insistence, she pulled his hand from beneath her skirt and set it firmly on her knee. For emphasis, she folded hers atop his.

  There. At least he wouldn't think she was totally refusing him. Just denying him the freedom of intimate touch at the table. Damn it all, that was too close.

  Confounding her further, he flipped his palm up and caught her fingers between his. She almost groaned at the wave of heat that raced up her arm. When he proceeded to brush his thumb alongside hers, little tingles of pleasure pricked her skin with goose bumps. She tamped down a shiver and tried to focus on what Pearl was saying now. Something about Mister Spoilsport. And she looked like she expected some sort of response.

  Riley came to her rescue. At the sound of his horse's name, he turned and joined in the conversation. “Yes, we'll be at the Preakness too, Pearl. And I agree, Infidelity and Mister Spoilsport should have a good match there."

  Oh, so that's what it was abou
t. She should have known. Would have known if he wasn't intent on distracting her.

  Then, the funniest little idea took hold in her mind. She'd set out to seduce him into selling his colt, and unwittingly, he was playing right into her hand. Literally, if not figuratively. She could use this to her advantage. Twine him around the pinkie he presently held fast. All she needed to do was take control of this game he was playing.

  "You kids have fun tonight.” When Pearl grinned, the dangling diamonds at her ears sparkled. She looked younger, livelier, and more robust than her sixty some odd years typically revealed. “I just wanted to tell Maddie hello. I think I'll finish my dessert now."

  As Pearl excused herself, Maddie's brow pulled into a slight frown. Dessert? She looked around, searching for the array of sweets Pearl usually provided. On her plate, a square of chocolate cake, laden with dark fudge icing, awaited her. When had that happened? What happened to the rest of her prime rib?

  She spied the ripe red strawberry.

  Concealing an impish smirk, she dipped her head until the urge to giggle passed. When she had her humor under control, she summoned what she hoped was a sultry smile. With a squeeze of Riley's hand to get his attention, she picked up the berry between thumb and forefinger, and lifted it toward his mouth in a gesture that couldn't be misunderstood. She meant to feed him.

  His warm ale-brown eyes flickered with dark intensity as he leaned closer, holding her gaze unblinkingly. Her heart fluttered. When his inviting mouth parted to take the fruit between his teeth, she thought she'd lose her composure. Something she couldn't explain arced between them before he closed his eyes and broke their gaze. Surprisingly long, his dark lashes brushed against his high cheekbones, and as his lips closed around her fingertips, Maddie's stomach bottomed out.