“I’m very sorry about talking in your class,” she said quickly. “And that I left early. My friend was upset.”
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak.
“And I’m sorry I missing my riding lesson. I know that was even worse but I was still with her, and we both lost track of time and it was thoughtless but it really was important.” Her voice quivered with thoughts of Joey. “P-please. You have to know it was important.”
“Okay,” he said.
“I can’t even say why…” She blinked in surprise. “Okay?”
“Yup.” He stepped in. His head tilted and he covered her mouth in a hard kiss. Seconds later, it turned tender, so gentle her tension eased away. She’d been preparing for a battle and now she was melting inside. He widened his mouth, deepening the kiss. His tongue turned teasing, tantalizing with its exploration, until every nerve in her body woke. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed closer, needing to feel him.
He slipped his hand beneath her shirt, running it along her back, so slow, so assured, his confident touch making her quiver. She sighed when he lifted his head, a throaty sound of disappointment, but now his mouth trailed along her neck and that felt good too, his teeth and lips jolting her with sensation.
His hand slid along her ribs, his thumb just below her breast, fingers teasing as they stroked her skin, lingering when he found a sensitive spot until she wiggled and thrust up with impatience.
His hand obligingly palmed her breast then honed in with unerring certainty, squeezing her nipple beneath the bra, as his mouth returned to hers, hungry now, hungry and possessive.
He lifted his head but kept her centered against his obvious erection. “I want you,” he said, his voice husky. “And it doesn’t matter how many classes you skip. Come home with me, Megan.”
“I have to feed my horses first.” She gave a throaty sigh as his thumb brushed her nipple. “And I have to hide from Lydia.”
“We’re not going to sneak around.” He dipped his head, his breath warm and insistent. “Just pack your bag and move in.”
Move in? She shook her head but it was tough to rationalize under the ministrations of that persuasive mouth, the erotic way his hand stroked her breast. She sucked in a quivery sigh, her mind and body turning pliable from his touch.
“I think Lydia would make my life miserable if I did that,” she managed. “Don’t you?”
His hand lowered an inch, settling over her ribs, and she almost groaned with disappointment.
“I’ll look after you,” he said. “And Garrett’s a good friend.”
“But I still don’t think people should see us together. Not even Garrett.” A sense of unease filled her and she glanced over her shoulder, certain she heard the shuffle of feet. “I need to feed Jake and Rambo, and wash some clothes. Maybe I’ll come over later.”
“Later?”
“When it’s dark,” she said.
He lowered his arms and eased back, leaving an emptiness where his body had been. “The parts for my car arrived so I won’t be home when it’s dark. I was hoping you’d drive into town with me and have dinner.”
She hesitated far too long for such an astute man.
“Never mind then,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll do some gate work.”
“Oh, I forgot.” Her words came in a rush. “Ramon is letting me join his class tomorrow. He says I’m ready.”
Scott nodded but his jaw looked like granite. “Congratulations,” he said.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Why are you drinking rum with me,” Garrett asked, “when you could be doing more pleasurable things with the school hottie?”
Scott scowled but Garrett only chuckled and propped his feet on the coffee table. “I had my eye on her, you know,” he admitted. “As usual, the women prefer you.”
Scott’s frown deepened. The idea of Garrett with Megan was irritating. “Is that why your wife left? You were dipping into the student body?”
Garrett reached over and sloshed more rum into his glass. “I’ve always had a hard time resisting temptation,” he said, totally unabashed. “But there were other factors too. I love my life here, Lord of the Manor, so to speak.”
“Lords don’t usually have their dog’s legs bashed in.”
“No.” Garrett gave a negligible shrug. “And once in a while we get a dangerous student like Joey Collins.”
“Is he ganged up?”
Garrett nodded. “He was working with a group out of L.A.”
“Was?”
“Is. So tell me where’s the luscious Megan tonight?” Garrett asked. “I need to thank her for helping with Rex.”
Scott shrugged and grabbed the remote. He pointed it at the huge plasma TV then tossed it aside in frustration. Eleven o’clock. Megan would be in bed. She might have been in his bed if he hadn’t been so pissed, but it rankled she thought he wouldn’t protect her from Lydia.
And he also had the feeling she’d been reaching for an excuse. He didn’t expect women to fall all over him, but dammit, they were usually more eager than Megan. Something was holding her back.
“Do you have some sort of rule that instructors can’t date students?” He turned to Garrett. “If so, I want it changed.”
“All right.” Garrett gave another of his irritating shrugs. “Tomorrow I’ll announce that students have to bang their instructors.”
“Don’t be an asshole,” Scott said. “Or I’ll quit.”
“You’ve never quit anything in your life.” Garrett twirled his glass, studying the melting ice. “But I’ve been advised that everything will be renewed now, so maybe you should go. This was all your battle-ax of a secretary’s idea anyway. There’s no pressing reason to stay.”
Scott rubbed his temple, absorbing Garrett’s words. He didn’t have a headache, not yet, just a nagging sense he was missing something.
“Belinda’s my assistant, not a secretary,” he said. “And we have to find that punk who hurt your dog. That’s the big reason I can’t go.”
Garrett laughed.
***
Megan flipped through Joey’s magazine, staring blankly at ads of racing studs, trucks and farm equipment. The usual stuff. Any hope he’d written a Mexican address or name in the margins was quickly dashed. If there was a clue to his whereabouts in these pages, she didn’t see it.
Tami sprawled on her bed, commenting with enthusiastic detail about each of her new phone’s functions. Megan closed the magazine, deciding it was more fun to listen than to analyze Joey’s reading material.
“Hey, look. I googled the school and I can see everything.” Tami reached for another piece of chocolate without taking her eyes off the screen. “The track looks small from an aerial shot but when you’re galloping and your legs turn to jelly, it feels like a marathon.”
“Garrett sure has a big house,” she added, almost in the same breath. “And the villa next to him is pretty nice too. There’s even a tennis court.”
Megan padded across the room and plunked down beside Tami. Garrett’s pool looked immense, a kidney-shape of blue. She recognized the front driveway where Rex had been brutalized and then Scott’s villa with its own hot tub and pool.
“Who lives in those two smaller units on the other side?” she asked.
Tami pointed at the screen. “Ramon is in that one. I remember Miguel complaining it didn’t have a pool.” She snickered. “Poor Lydia has the tiniest one, stuck way off in the trees. Serves her right for being such a bitch.”
Megan leaned forward, craning to see. Judging from the size of the villas, Ramon had more status than Lydia. And of course, so did Scott, although that was probably because of his friendship with Garrett.
“Can you google Scott?”
“I already have,” Tami said. “I checked out the Taylor Investigative Agency too.”
“Taylor Investigative Agency? That’s the name of his company?”
“Yeah. Remember when Garrett in
troduced him on the first day.”
“No. I missed that class.” Megan edged sideways, her eyes glued to Tami’s phone. Scott had mentioned working in L.A., but she hadn’t asked details. Hadn’t wanted to spark any return questions about why she’d left a thriving jewelry business to attend jockey school. But a private investigator? This was wonderful.
“What kind of cases does he do?” She strained to read the tiny writing. “Things like missing persons?”
“Says here fraud, asset searches, child custody, protective services,” Tami said. “Boring stuff. And there are no good pictures. Do you want to see the Baja Tinda’s pool? The diving board is so high—”
“Wait, Tami. Please. May I see your phone for a sec?”
“See. It’s cool, isn’t it?” Tami passed it over with a satisfied smile. “Way better than my old one. I can’t believe Miguel gave it to me.”
Megan thumbed down the screen, engrossed in the material. There was plenty to read—Scott had been an L.A. cop with numerous citations, including a medal of valor, but had switched to private practice. Some rough stuff too. She followed a recent link, skimming quickly.
The search for Robbie Stevens finally ended last night when authorities trapped his kidnappers in a remote section of Wheeler Ridge. Robbie had been celebrating his third birthday and on his way to Disneyland when he was abducted from his parents’ limo. The family had engaged private investigative services after rumored dissatisfaction with the FBI.
Reports of last night’s daring raid are still scanty. However, it is believed there were several fatalities, and two of the rescuers are in serious condition. John and Mary Stevens appeared briefly on camera to thank the public for their support, but both were visibly shaken in the wake of the shootout. “Scott Taylor is our son’s guardian angel,” Mary Stevens said. “He pushed Robbie to the ground and shielded him from the gunfire. I pray Mr. Taylor recovers.”
Megan’s breath caught. She remembered the newscasts, the heroic agent who had taken a bullet to save a child’s life. Not an FBI agent, but Scott. Thank God he’d been able to bring that frightened little boy home. She swiped the corner of her eye, fighting the lump that filled her throat.
Tami tugged the phone back and resumed her scrolling, oblivious to Megan’s emotion. “Let’s look at the Baja Tinda now. The diving board is amazing.”
Megan blew out a shaky breath. No wonder she’d been instantly attracted to Scott. No wonder he was the school’s golden boy. He was a good man. He found people. He rescued them.
She clasped her hands in front of her chest and for the first time since coming to the school, she was buoyed with hope. Tomorrow she’d hire him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Megan followed Tami into the classroom, smiling when she saw Eve already seated in the front row. “You’re early too,” she said, grabbing the adjacent seat.
Eve grimaced. “Ramon was wild about me missing his riding lesson yesterday. He’d flip if he discovered I’d also missed the addictions class.” She shot a wary look at Tami who was engrossed with texting. Her voice lowered. “Did you get in much trouble?”
“A little,” Megan said. “But it’ll be okay.” At least she hoped so. Scott hadn’t been happy yesterday. Her gaze drifted to the side door, willing him to appear. This morning she would behave like a model student, take copious notes and nod respectfully at everything he said.
And afterwards she’d explain the real reason why she didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention from school staff, then ask him to find her brother. His caliber of agency probably charged substantial fees, but he was obviously the best and she wanted him.
In more ways than one.
She blocked her thoughts, determined to focus on Scott, the professional. “I have an idea about finding Joey,” she whispered to Eve.
“Give Ramon and Lydia a lie detector test.” Eve sounded absolutely serious.
Tami shot them a warning scowl. “I don’t want you two beside me if you’re going to talk and get me in trouble,” she said. “This is my favorite class.”
“We’ll be quiet as soon as he walks in,” Megan said, fingering her pen. “Promise.”
“Which means right now.” Tami elbowed her in the ribs as the door clicked open. Scott strode to the front of the room. Megan gave him a welcoming smile, but his businesslike gaze covered every student.
“Good morning,” he said, without a trace of a smile.
Wow, he looked surly. He didn’t have his usual jacket on either, just worn Levis and a faded shirt that picked up the gray in his eyes. He didn’t need clothes to project power though. The room was so quiet she could hear Peter breathing two rows back.
Every female seemed to watch intently as Scott turned and walked to the whiteboard. Were they really listening or just admiring his body, the way the denim tightened around his butt? When he turned, Tami’s head jerked and Megan knew at least one person had been looking below the belt.
Not me though. She kept her gaze carefully focused on his face, trying to be the picture of an attentive student. He hadn’t shaved this morning and the dark stubble was rather intimidating. Rough…kind of sexy. She pressed a finger to her lips, imagining the feel.
The sound of pens on paper yanked back her attention. Oh damn, everyone was writing. She hadn’t absorbed a word.
She ducked her head and hastily scribbled her name. Couldn’t think of anything else so wrote it again. At least she was writing. She doubted Scott would be able to read upside down. On the other hand, he was multi-talented.
She swallowed. It had been a mistake to sit so close. She felt like a groupie and it was impossible to concentrate, not with him only a few feet away. He looked like a cop today, an undercover cop with a sexy voice and a sexier body. Her cheeks turned hot. She shifted in her seat, trying to concentrate on his words.
“Some states have mandatory breathalyzers,” he said. “Not only jockeys can be tested but also grooms who lead a horse to the paddock. And exercise riders. You may be asked to provide urine. Be prepared for random screening and hair follicle testing.” His gaze seemed to settle on her and she pressed back, her shoulder blades digging into the hard chair.
Why was he staring? She hadn’t used drugs in years. Not even a joint.
“For most of you, it will be a constant battle to maintain riding weight,” he went on. “Learn your triggers so you can deal with them. Substance abuse can start with a simple weight loss drug and continue because of emotional dependency.”
She put down her pen and crossed her arms. Her face felt stiff. Of course, none of this stuff applied to her. She’d never had much trouble with her weight, and emotional dependency was an overused expression. They’d used that phrase in every stage of her ten-step counseling. She was tired of it. Her dad leaving hadn’t been that big a deal. It hadn’t affected her. Her mom was good, she was good, Joey…
Joey wasn’t so good.
She realizing she’d stopped breathing and sucked in an achy gulp of air. But persistent voices whispered that her brother was dead. She sensed it in every fiber of her being, the way a weight cramped her chest, how she always thought of him in the past tense. Even his girlfriend had lost hope.
Her eyes itched. She glanced frantically at the exit. The air was stifling, almost impossible to breathe. All these people around. She didn’t want them to see her cry. She had to get out, now, but it was twenty endless feet to the door.
And she couldn’t walk out on Scott. Not a second time. Her fists clenched and she blinked furiously, afraid if she looked at Eve her grief would erupt. For a moment, Scott’s gaze held hers. She jerked her head away, feigning a cough, and swiped furiously at the corners of her eyes.
“We’ll quit a few minutes early today,” Scott said.
She rose so fast, her pen and paper slid to the floor. She bent down, but her eyes were too blurry to see the pen.
“Here it is,” Eve said, reaching under Megan’s chair. “Want to grab a coffee before our riding less
on? This was a short lecture so we have extra time.”
Megan turned her head, still blinking. She really wanted to bolt out the door. Curl up in a private spot and grieve. Alone. However, Eve sounded so sad, so needy, and was obviously hurting too.
“Sure.” Megan kept her head bent as she pretended to reorganize her notes. “Want to come with us, Tami?”
“No, thanks,” Tami said, scooting toward the door. “I just texted Miguel. We’re meeting at the jock barn. See you later.”
Megan glanced toward Scott but he was already surrounded by a group of eager students, all females. Besides, she had to escape. She turned and hurried for fresh air, conscious of Eve at her heels.
She stepped from the building. The bright morning sun slammed her face and she rubbed her eyes
“Are you okay?” Eve asked.
“Yeah, the sun’s so bright. I just need some air.”
Eve slipped her hand around Megan’s wrist and gave a quick squeeze. “It’s hard not to think of him,” she whispered. “Sometimes it hits out of the blue.” Her quiet empathy made Megan’s eyes prick again.
“Joey wasn’t doing drugs,” Eve added, her voice low. “You have to believe that. He had a single room so I was with him almost every minute. He was riding great too. Top of the class. We were on the list to ride at Santa Anita. And then Ramon took him to Mexico.
“I wish he hadn’t gone,” Eve continued, her voice cracking. “The trailer left so fast he didn’t take his helmet. I never even said good bye.”
This time it was Megan who squeezed Eve’s hand. Usually Megan liked to deal with her pain in private—she hadn’t had many close friends since her brush with the courts—but it helped to share this crushing sorrow. And soon they’d have Scott’s help.
She shot a cautious glance over Eve’s shoulder. Peter sauntered toward the barns, walking alongside a petite brunette, but he was well out of earshot.
HORSES AND HEROIN (Romantic Mystery) Page 14