Sleeping With The Billionaire - A Standalone Royal Alpha Billionaire Prince Romance (New York City Billionaires - Book #2)
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“Until then, Mr. Hargrave,” she replied in a breathless, nervous voice that made me think of darker, more intimate things. I tipped my hat and stepped back from the car, laughing to myself as she peeled out in her haste to escape. I decided then that I was going to enjoy the hell out of summer.
Chapter Three
Rachel
I was halfway back to Austin before I noticed how far to the right the needle on my speedometer was. I took my foot off the gas, grateful that I had caught myself before I’d been caught by a speed trap. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I wasn’t quite clear about how much of that was because I had an internship at one of the most respected and prestigious ranches in the state and how much was because whenever Daniel Hargrave got close to me, my knees threatened to give out.
I was beyond impressed with the stables and the high tech birthing center on site, and to distract myself from a certain set of ice-blue eyes and touchable black hair, I spent the remainder of the two-hour drive brainstorming ideas for Lago Colina Ranch. I had a secret dream of one day training a racer, and I wondered if I could convince Mr. Hargrave or his stable-master Pete to board a horse or two for training.
My phone buzzed in my purse like an angry wasp, but after breaking land speed records in my little Rav4 already, I thought it best not to tempt fate by digging it out and reading texts while driving. I parked in the garage and as I turned the car off and sat quietly, I began shaking as the immensity of what was happening to me sank in.
I knew I still had to speak with my advisor Dean Green about creating this position specifically for me, but I wasn’t as angry or offended as I felt I probably should have been. I mean, if it got me an internship at that gorgeous ranch, who was I to complain? I breathed through my anxiety and within minutes, felt well enough to actually check my phone and go up the apartment, where I was sure I’d be hit with a barrage of questions from my roommate.
I checked my messages. There were two from my parents, asking about the interview, and one from Edith, regarding the same. My brother had texted to specifically tell me he wasn’t asking about the internship, but if I wasn’t going to be home over the summer at all, would I be offended if he packed up the remaining things in my old bedroom and turn it into a weight room? I laughed and responded to him first, then sent affirmative replies to my parents and my mentor.
Lastly, there were texts from both Freddie and Tracy, asking me to meet them for lunch, with an amendment from Tracy to swing by and pick her up first. I texted Tracy to meet me downstairs, rather than go up and get her, and replied to Freddie that we’d be on our way soon, if she wanted us to pick her up, as well. Tracy responded with a thumbs up emoji and the number two. However, her two minutes turned into ten as I sat there with my eyes closed, imagining waking up on that ranch every morning and taking Peacemaker out for a sunrise ride every day.
Poor Peacemaker had been stuck in the suburbs for two years, ever since the medical costs of a car accident had forced my parents to sell their property and downsize our lives. Thanks to a good lawyer and my dad’s amazing business sense, our lives had gotten mostly back on track. However, my younger brother, Caleb, had made friends and was happy in the high school he was attending, so my parents put off moving again until he graduated, which was going to happen in about three weeks.
Tracy banged on the window, and I jumped and glared at her while she stood laughing, hugging herself with mirth.
“You’re such a cow,” I panted as she climbed in the passenger seat. “I should’ve just left without you.” She attempted to look chagrined as she buckled her seatbelt. She opened her mouth to apologize, but I held up a finger to silence her. Chuckling, she sat facing forward and drummed her fingers on her knees. After a couple of minutes of silence, I felt she’d been punished almost enough and decided to give her a little payback.
“I’m going be spending the summer on the ranch!” I shouted abruptly, causing Tracy to jump and clothesline herself on her seatbelt. Coughing, she made a pistol with her hands and pretended to shoot me.
“Touché, bitch,” she croaked, rubbing her throat where the seatbelt bit into it. She turned and smiled at me as we sat at a red light. “Congratulations!”
I squirmed in my seat and giggled. “It was amazing and intense. I thought maybe I’d blown it a couple of times; Mr. Hargrave the elder was really specific and asked some questions out of left field, but I managed to pull some answers out of weird past experiences I had,” I felt my stomach clench. “There was another surprise, though.” I paused, trying to find words that wouldn’t incriminate my traitorous libido. “The eldest of the Hargrave sons seems to be running things. He gave me the bulk of my interview…” My voice trailed off and Tracy poked me in the arm.
“And? AND?” she pressed. I shrugged my shoulders. The truth was, I really didn’t know what to say about him. He was gorgeous, that was for sure. But there was something else about him, an ease in his own skin that I both envied and admired.
“Well, it seems like the whole change in management is new to them, so I’m not sure who will be calling the shots,” I finally added. “I really hope there’s no, you know, power struggle or contention. I wouldn’t want to be in the middle of that.” I pulled up in front of the salon Freddie worked at and Tracy texted her that we were outside. “What do you think, Trace?” I mused. “Do you think my future will be made this summer?” Tracy laughed and fiddled with the radio stations.
“I don’t see why not!” she laughed and waved at Fredericka, who was staggering towards the car, balancing boxes and bags as she walked. I popped the trunk as Tracy jumped out to help with the packages.
“What, you couldn’t wait to go shopping with us?” I teased her when they got back in the car. “Now what are we going to do after our celebratory lunch?” I turned the car on and took us to the Blue Lemon, one of our favorite lunch spots. Freddie got her second wind while we ate and was able to outspend me and nearly Tracy, as well.
I called my mother as soon as we got home that evening and worked out the details. I was excited to have Freddie taking my place in the apartment while she and Jayden decided if they were ready to move in together.
My parents seemed happy for me, although it did mean I had to skip out on our summer vacation plans. I suggested to Caleb while we face-timed that he ask them for a proper senior trip for his graduation and watched his face light up right before the phone started shaking as he jumped up and down in excitement.
“Scotland!” he shrieked into the camera. For a moment, he was a child again, not a nearly six-foot-two, hundred-eighty-pound man.
“That was my general idea,” I replied. “I would’ve picked somewhere sunny, but hey, different strokes, right, kiddo?” He laughed and the video shook some more. I signed off and started packing clothes. I didn’t think I’d be needing any sun dresses where I was going, so I boxed up everything dainty and pretty and hauled it to the storage closet. I looked at what was left and realized I hadn’t made all that much of a dent in the pile. I seriously considered what that meant about my sense of style and created a new parameter for packing, so that I’d have enough clothing to last the summer with the wear and tear, without taking more than three bags. By the time I had divided everything into appropriate piles, I was exhausted.
I readied myself for bed and slid between the soft, cool sheets and passed out. The next morning, my parents arrived bright and early to help with the boxes. In the end, I had so much to store, I was afraid I’d take up the whole storage space at the apartment, and my dad had come through for me and offered me the upper floor of his garage until I started school again. I rode back to my parents’ house with Caleb, listening to old country songs and talking about how long to wait before he came to visit.
Back at the mom and dad’s house, Skipper attacked me with wild puppy abandon and nearly drowned me in dog slobber from his kisses. Caleb and I took Skipper down to the equestrian center where we boarded the horses, and went for a ride.
The week flew by, and before I knew it, Sunday had arrived again and it was time for a last fling with my friends and family before leaving for the great unknown…or at least, the possibility of the unknown that lay at a gorgeous ranch and lake a mere a two-hour drive outside of Austin. I was thrilled and terrified, and the combination left me feeling numb and slow-witted. I was handed a glass of champagne, but Tracy took it from me before I could drink and handed me a glass of water instead, and slipped me a small, white pill, scored down the center.
“My anxiety meds,” I stated dumbly.
“You looked like you were having one of those silent panic attacks. Your eyes just sort of glazed over and I thought you could use a hand.” She patted my shoulder. “You are doing an amazing thing here, honey,” she said. “You’ve been through a lot and you’re not just carrying on: you’re thriving.”
I agreed with her. I’d gotten farther than I ever thought I would when I was stuck in a hospital bed for two weeks and all the news I got seemed bad. I took the busipirone and drank the water. Tracy turned to go, but I caught her by the arm. I gave her a hug and squeezed her so tight I spilled the last bit of the water. She squealed at the cold water hitting her back, and I laughed so hard I couldn’t apologize.
We rejoined the party and within minutes, I felt more able to talk and laugh with my friends. I spent the remainder of the evening dodging the increasing questioning regarding the younger Mr. Hargrave, whom I was finding had something of a reputation among the long-standing residents of Austin. I had to admit that I could see why they were popular.
I kissed and hugged my friends goodnight, and my parents slipped off to bed while I double checked that I had all the appropriate veterinary paperwork for both Peacemaker and Skipper. It would’ve been bad form to ask them to let me bring my animals with me, then expose their livestock to any illnesses they were carrying. I brushed Peacemaker and promised him a ride as soon as we settled in tomorrow. I looked into his dewy, brown eyes and spared a thought for the eldest Hargrave brother and wondered if he would see the amazing creature that my young racehorse really was.
Chapter Four
Daniel
I heard the trailer coming up the drive long before I saw it. I grabbed my hat and tossed back the last dregs of a disappointing cup of coffee I’d brewed and intended to finish over an hour ago. By the time I stepped out of the cabin, I could see my parents speaking with people I presumed to be Rachel’s family, and I picked up my pace to a light jog.
I skidded to a stop, however, when one of the loveliest, young thoroughbred stallions I’d ever seen came around the corner, rearing and tossing his head. At his reigns, keeping a tight control of him, was Rachel. She looked completely calm and at home with the nervous horse, talking to him and stroking him until he calmed down. He loved her; I could see it in the way he listened to her and his eyes and ears remained fixed on her.
She looked over to where I was standing and her face lit up in a smile. I waved and slowly made my way over to join the group, taking care not to disturb Peacemaker’s calm. I had just reached them when I saw, to my horror, a young, golden retriever bounding up to us and Rachel’s nervous charge. I reached out for Peacemaker’s reigns to help Rachel while simultaneously bracing against the expected bucking.
“Skipper!” scolded Rachel in a hiss as he spun out under Peacemaker’s belly and pranced out, tongue lolling wildly. Peacemaker glared balefully at me out of one eye, but didn’t do more than twitch his withers. “Skipper and Peacemaker are buddies. They have been since we brought little Skip home from the dog shelter,” Rachel explained.
“Yes, they are sweet together,” an attractive lady chimed in. I looked at her pale, brown skin and green-hazel eyes. Rachel’s mother, I guessed. She radiated the same quiet confidence I saw in her daughter, unaware that she affected anyone around her and perfectly content not knowing. I considered some of the women I’d been dating lately and realized that a lot more women could have that particular quality and it would improve the lives of countless men.
I introduced myself to her father, Francisco (call me Frank), and heard my mother mention his wife’s name was Merida. While the two mothers went into the big house, chatting away like old friends, Rachel, our fathers, and the young man I took to be her brother, led Peacemaker to his stall in the stable. Jackson caught up with us, his hair still wild and flat on one side, like he’d just gotten out of bed.
“Well, yeah, I was asleep until I heard the horse ruckus,” Jackson admitted when I flicked his head. He looked over at Rachel’s brother. “Hey, man, you’re Caleb Martinez, right? You played lacrosse with Georgetown High, right? You guys rocked state this year.” Caleb nodded and blushed.
“Yeah, I played,” he confessed. “I wasn’t the star or anything, though.”
Jackson shook his head and jabbed me in the chest. “Don’t believe it, man.” He jabbed me again. “This guy was the shit at the state game.” He turned to Rachel and her family. “I wasn’t on the team; I already graduated two years ago. I just went with some friends.” He grinned and feigned a boxing combination aimed at my gut. “You missed it to do ‘paperwork’ and stayed home all weekend like the old man you’ve turned into since Dad handed the business over to you.” I laughed, but it was true. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d left the ranch for anything other than business. I looked up at our guests, a little embarrassed.
“Oh, don’t worry, we have a workaholic here, too,” Rachel’s dad remarked, pointing at his daughter with his thumb. “Sounds like you two will get along just fine.” I saw the look that passed between our younger brothers at the last thing he said. But, thankfully, our fathers didn’t. I looked at Rachel in her threadbare work shirt over a tiny tank top and snug, well-worn jeans and I couldn’t help but agree that I had every intention of getting along with Ms. Martinez in every way I could think of.
My mother had, of course, demanded that the Martinez family all stay for lunch, and together, we hauled Rachel’s luggage to her private room in the bunkhouse. At the last minute, I looked at the accommodations and had palpable regret at putting her in there so close to the men, some of whom were seasonal and I didn’t know very well. I took my father aside and expressed my concerns, and he readily agreed.
I asked Rachel if she’d rather be up at the house, and she declined the offer, pointing out that she would have a much harder time gaining the respect of the other ranch hands if she was coddled and given better lodgings than they were. She hauled her bags into the bunkhouse, studiously ignoring the stares and muttered catcalls of the four, seasonal workers. I glared at them, and the muttering stopped as long as I was in the room.
The moment I walked out the door, they picked it up again. Rachel made her way back through the room behind me, and I heard a chair scrape as one of the guys approached her. By the time I strode into the room, she was standing in front of Carter, who was now sitting with his chair leaned back on the rear two legs. She had her foot between his legs on the seat of the chair, and as I watched, she calmly pushed with her foot until it fell over with a crash. She looked at each of the other men in turn as if asking if anyone else had anything to say. I tipped my hat down and exited while staring at the floor, to hide my laughter. I didn’t mind them knowing I thought they were stupid; I just didn’t want her thinking I didn’t respect her methods.
We brought in a few extra things, Skipper’s dog food, a couple of pictures of her family, a girl thing or two I honestly didn’t recognize. While we were all there together, I inspected the room. When I checked the door, I realized there was no proper lock. I informed her that she was perfectly permitted to stay in the bunkhouse, but not u
ntil I had replaced her doorknob with one that locked and possibly installed a deadbolt, as well.
When she argued, my father stepped in and agreed that while we knew the men we hired full time would never invade her space, there were times when we brought in extra help, and it would be remiss of us not to protect her in that situation, especially as she was the only female. I assured her we would do the same for any woman, and if we brought another on board while Rachel was here, we’d set up this end of the bunkhouse for multiple sleepers and she could share her space, as well. That seemed to placate her, and she agreed to take her smallest suitcase up to the big house with us.
Before we walked out, Rachel handed me a folder, marked with “Skipper and Peace” on the front in black sharpie. I looked inside and saw complete veterinary records and training certificates, including one declaring Skipper an ideal horse dog, calm and non-aggressive.
“I wanted to make sure you had a copy before we moved in,” she explained. I accepted the file and motioned for her to walk with me to the business office while the others headed back toward the large dining room. Once inside, I closed the door so we would have privacy and tossed the file on the desk.
“I’d like to know more about why you want to be here and what you hope to accomplish, Rachel,” I began, motioning toward the only chair in the room that wasn’t piled high with files and paperwork. She looked around her and arched an eyebrow at me.
“Well, I was hoping to get more training in herd management from your stable master, but if you’d like, I could play administrative assistant and dig you out of here.”
“No thanks. I accepted the mantle of responsibility, I’ll figure out what the hell Dad had going on and get it cleaned up myself,” I laughed. I poured a small tumbler of whiskey and offered it to her. She turned it down, and I tossed it back and poured myself another. “Do you think that being here is the best for your future?” I redirected.